Monthly Archives: November 2013

Om nom nom nom

For a while now, I’ve been a “flexitarian.” I was eating a 75-85% vegetarian diet but I also ate meat because it was convenient and I am lazy. Besides, occasionally this girl really needs bacon. And chicken tacos. And maybe a bloody steak. Hmm. Maybe I wasn’t as good at being a flexitarian as I thought.

A few weeks ago, I decided to give being a real vegetarian a try. It’s best not to ask me why, unless you’d like a boring treatise about food justice, the environment, the intelligence of (some) even-toed ungulates and my feelings. I have a lot of feelings to share with all of you. I could write volumes of bad poetry about my feelings and then author a dissertation on the poetry. I really tried not giving a damn about chickens, as they are stupid jerks, but apparently I am incapable of that. It’s an annoying personality trait.

Anyway, for a seemingly minor lifestyle change, my body has revolted. It might be the cold weather. It might be that I need to adjust my diet to include more protein or fat or who knows what. All I know for sure is that I’ve been ravenous and it’s not pretty.

More and more my stomach has been, “Excuse me, I need food right now.”

I try to ignore it because it’s never actually time for a meal and I’m very busy. So my stomach gets more insistent, “I’m totally serious. Like, stat. Food. Now. Now. NOW!”

Fine. Whatever, stomach. I’ve been grabbing an apple or a piece of chocolate so I can go along with my busy, yet merry, way. Small snacks between meals have shut it up in the past. However, when I do that now my stomach is all, “No. That was the wrong thing. I’m still very hungry and now I’m slightly upset too. Pay attention to meeeee!”

My grouching stomach gives my brain cause to chime in, “That chocolate gave me a sugar buzz. I refuse to do anything productive until you remove these sugar-buzz bees from my head space.”

Never one to be left out, my mouth starts yelling, “I dare you to stuff as much food as possible into your mouth! I double-dog dare you! Let’s see how much cheese we can fit in here! And beans! And quinoa!”

“No.” I say, “It’s 10:30 in the morning. We aren’t eating those things. It’s time to work.”

“Let’s eat ALL THE SPINACH!!!” yells the brain. My brain is obviously still upset about the extra sugar. (Or possibly psychotic. Why else would I be craving spinach?)

“No. EGGS AND CHEESE!” shouts the stomach.

“CAAAAAAARRRRRBBBBBSSSS!!!!” roars the mouth.

I tell my mouth that less than 30 seconds ago it was demanding high-protein food and not carbohydrates.

“LET’S EAT A WHOLE LOAF OF BREAD!” it replies, “SMASH YOUR FACE IN IT! OM NOM NOM NOM”

I tell my mouth that’s still carbohydrates and we really need to eat more vegetables. I am ignored. That’s not unexpected as my mouth has never been one for rationality and/or continuity of thought.

“I vote we hibernate until April,” volunteers the brain, obviously overwhelmed by the combination of a sugar-crash, November rain and the increasingly loud demands of the mouth.

“Hey! This is my problem, remember? This is about me. And I’d really just like to be filled to an uncomfortable level with red curry” says the stomach.

“Ooooh, yes! Definitely that!” agree the brain and mouth in unison. “Let’s gorge on curry, curl up under all the blankets, and stay there until spring time.”

Finally, my legs speak up, “Hey, when you’re done being crazy and food-obsessive, can we go running again sometime soon? We’re getting twitchy and restless and it would be great if you ran until we collapsed. Hibernation sounds like a horrible idea.”

*sighs*

So, as you can see, I’m in turmoil. Has anyone else gone vegetarian? Did your appetite spiral out of control, and if so, what did you do to ease the transition? Help me, please!

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Mass hysteria! Cats and dogs living together

We have two cats now.

I’m not really sure how it happened.   I mean, I know the details of what transpired. I could lay it out, piece by piece, but that story is boring and doesn’t really capture the spirit of what happened.

I feel the story can be best be portrayed with a crappy Paint comic instead.

The lesson in all of this is that when life gives you lemons, you should make lemonade. If life gives you cats… well, don’t make cat juice. That’s gross. I can’t imagine the cats would like it either. 

However, there’s no reason I couldn’t help the cats make metaphorical lemonade with the bad hand they had been dealt.  I wanted cats and the cats needed a home. Voila! Metaphorical kitty lemonade! 

Kyle pretends to be a long-suffering victim in all of this. Whatever. He supposedly hates cats but I have evidence to the contrary:

  1. He takes an inordinate number of selfies with both cats.
  2. He built them a cat tree
  3. He lets a 3lb kitten sleep in his beard.

Quite  obviously, this is hate made manifest. (I need the ability to convey rolling my eyes super hard on blog posts)

Even if you aren’t swayed by this argument, I feel Kyle and I are pretty even. That jerk gave me pink-eye two weeks ago because he refused to go to the doctor. Two days of infected eyes equals twenty years of cats. 😀

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November 12, 2013 · 3:20 am