OMG - I've turned veggie!

I've never been much of a cook. Meal time consisted of whatever came out of a box and a boring frozen vegetable boiled beyond recognition to go with it. Every now and then I'd get a wild hair and pick up a cookbook only to labor over something that either didn't look like the picture or according to my kids, "tasted nasty". It's pretty sad when it tastes so repulsive that a timer would be set and a threat issued in my attempt to get my kids to eat it. (this didn't last long so please don't call CPS or lecture me on the bad feeding habits I am encouraging. I learned.) Now that I have turned veggie I have come to the realization that I must learn to cook or I'll survive only on salad and raw trail mix. Let the lessons begin!

Luckily my very first meal was relatively easy AND i had help. We made tacos, a family favorite. Lettuce - yup. Avocado - yup. Salsa and beans - yup, yup. Tofuti sour cream - Yum. I honestly don't see much of a difference. Bring it on. Fake meat? Not too bad either. Cooks & looks just like meat. Some come pre-seasoned so thinking and creativity is not necessary. See how nice these veggie companies are? Always trying to help another veggie out. However, I don't recommend saving and re-heating the next day. We're all friends right? Well, friends don't let other friends get raunchy gas without a warning. Consider yourself warned. ;) Peppers and onions were also cut up and sauteed & thrown in. Double yum. All in all taco night was a success. My son went back 4 times before I stopped him. I don't know if it's proven you can get fat on soy but I decided not to chance it with my kid.

It has been almost three weeks now and I have cooked a few veggie meals that tasted pretty good. Spaghetti with fake meat and salad; brown rice with steamed broccoli, cauliflower and carrots; tofurkey Italian sausage on a whole wheat roll; grilled veggie kabobs with tofu - I'd skip the tofu next time. That was a little chewy - like a mushroom that wouldn't die. Pass. But the veggies rocked. Smoothies have been a favorite breakfast but cereal with Rice Milk ain't too shabby either. Oh and Soy chocolate milk is delicious! In cooking all of these though i kind of felt like I was cheating. I'm not sure why really but it just seemed too easy. I mean, I'm changing my entire life style here - you'd think I'd sweat a little. So I decided to get down and dirty today. Nothing was going to stop me. Not my fear, not a stove that I rarely touch, not knives that aren't all that sharp, and not the hot, muggy weather. Nope, I was making soup today. Soup from scratch, no less. Oh yes. I am a bad ass.

Ever seen a bag of beans at the store and wondered, what the hell do you do with that? I have. I've even read the directions, and I'm not an imbecile - I can follow directions like any good kindergartner. But I would still wonder, what the hell do you do with that? I've had a bag of 12 bean soup in my cupboard for almost two years now. No bullshit. It's collecting dust like your grandmother's Precious Moments collection. I bought a bag of lentils at the store yesterday. My first thought? It was $.89. Dude. Who can beat that price?? My second thought? What the hell is a lentil?? I bought it anyway because I keep reading they are good for you and part of any good veggie's diet and I had a relatively simple recipe to try out. (oh and in case you are wondering what a lentil is - a petite legume seed high in protein, calcium and vitamins A & B - google it.) I chopped my onion, celery, and carrots and added them to hot olive oil. I added spices from my VERY OWN spice collection. No boxes here with a packet of unknown powder to unleash, no siree. I added water and crushed tomatoes and the lentils.I boiled. I simmered. The house started smelling good. And voila'! Dinner was ready. Dude. this was a big ass pot of soup for two people. I seriously prayed it wasn't going to make anyone retch and be wasted. Jeff tasted. I tasted. Surprise, surprise - it was goooood. Well, I have to admit, I am pretty freakin proud of myself. I made soup! I made yummy tasting soup! Now I know how cavemen must have felt back in the day when they made fire. If i was capable of an erection I think I would have sprouted one. I made soup from scratch and it was tasty. Oh happy, veggie me!

For all of you penny pincher's out there thish meal cost about $7.00. And there's enough for another day or two so knock that down to $3.50. I could get a meal for $3.50 when I was a meat eater. Oh yes. A fat hamburger with greasy french fries and an ice cold diet coke. But that's not all - oh no, there are extras thrown in there. A little build up in the arteries. A pinch of fat on the ass or belly. And once the sluggishness wears off, hey maybe it will come back to say hi when you go to the bathroom with the runs. MMMM mmmm! A greasy meal that doesn't let you forget. gotta love that. What's up McD's?? I'm lovin it! Super size that for me will ya? Maybe I'll feel it tomorrow too.
Ahem. No, thank you. For $3.50 I'll feel satisfied minus the runs and the fat, knowing that my body is thankful for what I just put in to it.

I have a feeling I'm going to like this cooking thing. oh and bonus - Jeff said I looked sexy while I was doing it. NICE. ;)

It's been quite a day. Mostly good mixed with a little frustrating and topped off with a bunch of self hate. Nice icing. what did I do to deserve such a scrumptious reward? I was just the example of motherhood perfection. Just ask my daughter. Not. She probably wants to smother me with a thick piece of meat. Suck on that mom. And choke.

Ahhhh. i feel better. how is everyone else?

On to veggie business. It has come to my attention that a lot of meat eaters out there feel the need to express their love for meat at any opportunity. Well, once they know you are a veggie. I've wondered about it ever since lunch. Not a long time in carnivore years but I think veggie years are = to dog years because it seems like I've thought about it for hours. oh wait....
I'm in the lunch room minding my own veggie business and eating my yummy veggie lunch (fake chicken patty w/ avocado & lettuce on whole wheat & a side of carrots for all you that are curious) when a friend of mine asked how the veggie trek is going. I love it when i get asked this question because it allows me to profess my love for veggie ism and how great I feel without feeling like I am rubbing it in a not-so-great feeling meat eaters face. Because I'm not. really. I'm just very excited about the awesomeness I feel and I want everyone to feel this way. (this of course excludes the crappy "I suck as a mom" feeling that i bring on by own accord. for some reason, the veggies cannot perfect this no matter how many broccoli's I shovel down my throat). As I'm sharing with my friend, a co-worker pops up from the book she was buried in to exclaim, "I couldn't live without meat" and then back down into the book grave she goes. Hmmmmm. Ok. I guess I could have asked her to elaborate but, to be honest, i didn't really want to. It was a conversation killer. That one sentence sucked out every nutrient and vitamin in the room. My friend went back to reading her magazine and eating her own defrosted lunch while I cleaned up and left the room.

Then I thought about it ALL. DAY. LONG. Seems like forever in dog-veggie years. It made me realize that this life sucking sentence has been meat clevered into my conversations more than once. How strange that it just now made such an impression. The dead silence maybe? Uh, my first clue. I pondered.
And then I realized, horror of horrors, that I also am guilty of being of being a life sucker. Now, surprise of all surprises, I didn't beat myself up too much about this. After all, I had been a carnivore my entire life and only a veggie now for two weeks so I cut myself a little slack. However, I will apologize to my vegan friend if I ever killed an inspiring, veggie-love filled conversation with a stupid comment like, "I love meat. Me couldn't live without me (grunt-grunt)", as I hitch up my pants over my meat loving ass and wipe the spittle from my chin.
I'm just kidding. No spittle. The ass though - oh yes. Laugh if you want but I'm sure all you steak lovers have heaved and hoed your pants over your ass and then proceeded to do the jean squat across your bedroom. You know who you are. Can I get a hee-haw??

So, I'm not going to be too hard on those that say it to me either but I am still trying to figure it out. Why is that necessary? Is it said to establish some type of hierarchy on the food chain? You know, meat eaters on top and all the veggie eating - tree huggers on the bottom? Or is that statement supposed to sum it all up? It doesn't require any further commentary or explanation like veggie ism does because well, meat speaks for itself? Moooooo. Oink. Oink. Or maybe, just maybe for some, not all mind you, but some, could it be their desperate stance in a conversation they don't understand and makes them uncomfortable? Hmmmm. Chew on that carrot stick.

Before I get accused of veggie stuck-upism, think about it. Meat eaters don't have to defend their food habits. Or where they shop. Or what they substitute (soy, tofu, oh my!). No one asks them how they get their protein. Or calcium. Or iron. No one wonders how on earth they live without sugar, or try to anyway. (Damn that high fructose corn syrup! they sneak that shit into everything!!!) No one asks because in a meat eaters world, it is assumed they are doing it right. It is assumed they know what they are eating and how it affects their body. It is assumed they are superior.

But what if they're not? What if they are wrong and the veggies are right? What if the FDA and the USDA and the CIA and the FBI, oh wait. not those guys. We know they are ALWAYS right.
But what if they're not? What if it is just about money? I mean, it is a business and business is money. Or there's no business. Hmmmm. Something to think about, something to ponder. What are you eating? Why are you eating it? What is in it and hey, how do you feel afterwards? It's your body. We only get one. Maybe we shouldn't treat it like a trash can. Or a pig trough.

Maybe we should tend to it like we do our gardens.

I feel spastic. You ever have one of those days? So much is going on and I have so much inside me that wants to come out; all the thoughts are pushing and shoving against each other, hoping the most aggressive will win. Ahem. Aren't vegetarians supposed to be passive??? My innards didn't get the memo. Or if they did, they tore it into tiny pieces before shoving it down an intestine so it can be eliminated.

Spastic. I could talk about the yogurt I'll never eat again, or how I wake up with so much energy now it freaks me out, or how the thought of elimination makes me grin from ear to ear. Oh yes, going to the bathroom has never felt so good. Or I could talk about how I feel when I am asked every day what I ate, or how I get looked at from the corner of people's eyes as if, now that I am vegetarian, I am also a spy reporting the habits of a carnivore's world. hmmmm, the list is endless. Spastic. Or maybe I could talk about why I feel so damn edgy today and yesterday which doesn't have anything to do with what I am eating but really it does. Oh yes really it does.

It has been four days since I have met up with my friend. Four days. The past two being absolutely excruciating. I miss him. He has been my constant companion since I was 13 years old. The one I could go to no matter what and he would always calm me down, make me feel better. Ten minutes with him and I'd feel relief and, and, happy?Oh, there were a few times when I would push him away, banish him from my very presence but I would always go back. Sometimes with my eyes closed, head bowed in resignation. Sometimes running full force with arms outstretched hoping I could reach him that much faster because I wanted him so bad. Oh yes. I wanted him with every fiber inside me. Other times I would feel desperate and once he was there, instant relief. I am almost quivering now with anticipation.
It is this anticipation I am hoping I can stomp on, full force, crushing the life out of it and all the deceitful lies of comfort it brings. Because you know, he is killing me. With each meeting, each rendevous, each 10 minute break, he is killing me. We will call him Smoke. I hate him and love him at the same time. Like an abusive boyfriend, he woos me with promises of a better day and please, just one more chance, if you take me back it will be So. MUCH. BETTER. I'll never hurt you again. I give in, of course I give in, because this is what happens when you are an addict. It doesn't matter what the addiction is, the abusive boyfriend treats us all the same. He beats my insides black and blue until I can barely breath. He fills me with himself until I weeze and gasp and cough, begging for more and begging for it to stop all at the same time. Who can reason with an addict? Nobody. We know. I know. Let's recap. Overweight doesn't = stupid and neither does addiction. I am chained. I am shackled and sadly sometimes I handcuff myself. Even as I write this I don't know if I will see Smoke tonight. It's not that I see Smoke so much I crave it but the thought of never seeing Smoke again sends me into a panic that makes me shake. Like all addicts do.

I don't know if I would break up with Smoke if I hadn't met Veggie. So funny too because I always laughed at people that broke up with one when another was already waiting. How weak and pathetic I would think. Can't they just do it on their own? Oh, I am so sorry if I ever thought that about you. How wrong, how wrong I am! What if it isn't weakness but a new found strength instead? A rock that was provided at just the right time, a time such as this?
It is ironic to me that I am cleansing my body of dead, rotting corpses only to fill it with rat poison. No thank you, I don't eat cheese but could you please pass the arsenic? Am I fucking retarded? Ahhh. slow down and breathe. Not stupid or retarded. Addict remember? I read something before (actually several times because I love it so much) that describes an addict as a bird. A bird only does what it does. It eats and sits in a tree and poos. You can stand under the tree and get pooed on or you can move away from the tree, or at least carry an umbrella, to avoid the poo. I have always identified with the person standing under the tree dodging shit bullets. How strange to be both the shit dodger and the shitter. I am the person and the bird. huh. A thought to ponder. How do we stop being a bird? Is it possible? Any addict I know of that stops their addiction is still the bird, just a Recovering bird or perhaps a bird "on-the-wagon" or maybe even the bird that flew "off-the-wagon". I can hear it now, oh look there goes that damn bird shitting again? When oh when will that bird learn? Shit sucks.

I am not perfect. NO freaking way. I am as flawed as they come. Sometimes I try to see me the way God does and I just cry because he loves me so much anyway. It's overwhelming.
Maybe I will see Smoke, maybe I will not. Maybe tonight I will not take his calls. But whatever happens, I can only take it one day at a time (that's addict talk in case you didn't know but I don't think smokers get a token. damn!)

One day at a time and if I go back today that doesn't mean I have to tomorrow. True dat. After all, I never thought I'd be a Veggie and maybe Veggie can also be my rock. For such a time as this.

Growing up, my mom didn't let me eat sweets much. She had a love/hate relationship with Oreo's and her body that I later adopted. Not the oreo's, the body and sweets in general. I remember saving my allowance so I could go to the corner am/pm after school to get my sugar fix. Frozen yogurt with mini m&m's. I used to put the m&m's on the bottom so I would eat them last. Walking home, I'd scarf down the pink hill of freedom and for me, the m&m's were the ultimate finale in my rebellious Independence. Throwing the cup away in a lobby trash can so I wouldn't get busted was so symbolic of how twisted our food notions were.
My relationship with sugar went through a lot of ups and downs as I've gotten older. I've learned not to hide my food, secrets make everything seem shameful. Well, because we make it that way. I learned how to MODERATE. That seems to be the hip word all the gym freaks want to shove down my throat. MODERATION. In theory this is awesome. In practice, way more difficult. Don't believe me? check out all the overweight people the next time you are at the mall. I'm sure they've heard the word before too. Overweight does not = stupid. Only skinny people think that. People are overweight for a reason. I was overweight for a reason. Could be laziness, could be. But I'm thinking it went more along the lines of hopelessness, loneliness, emptiness, a lot of "ness". But not stupidity. It's so easy to judge and make assumptions. Let's remember the word "ass" is in assumptions. Don't be one.
I jumped on the sugar-free bandwagon with abandon. Diet soda? check! Fat free cookies? check! sugarless gum? check, check!! Even though I was on this wagon, the shit wasn't working. Well, I was in the wagon, looking out a different window, getting a new view of a countryside that was not moving. I remained the same but in my mind, I was doing it right so I forged ahead knowing it couldn't be the concept that was wrong but that it must be me. Again, somehow, I had screwed up and if I just kept going, maybe I'd finally get it right. My belly mocked me and I was crushed.

I was stunned to learn that all the fake sugars (sugar substitutes for those that think I'm getting ghetto) were contributing to my bigness. Well, I'll be! It kind of pissed me off to be honest. The anger felt good. Skinny Bitch calls sugar the devil. Well that's cool with me. I'm always one for wanting to give the devil a swift kick in the ass. So, sugar is out.
Well, it was for 5 days. On the 6Th day I made a justification. "Justification" is not a bad word, however; when I find myself doing it, it's normally because I'm trying to make myself feel better about doing something bad. My justification? My best friend's birthday. You know what that means. Birthday cake. But not just any birthday cake. Flour Power cake. Scrumptious, yummy smelling cake from the best freakin bakery around. To top it off, I bought the cake so I was lucky enough to smell it all the way home before I put it in my fridge. This is when it started - the justification. If i just have one, tiny, sliver of a piece, how bad could that be? HA! The sugar devil was laughing his granulated ass off. It really was a small piece. I don't even know if it could be counted as a piece. I guess it doesn't matter because I only had three bites of it. Three. Small. Bites. It was the center that did it. All that butter cream frosting..... One bite of that and the sugar devil thought he had me. Thought I'd throw my fork down and inhale it from the plate the way the piggies do (think Christmas Story). But this did not happen. It might have except for the GIANT KNIFE SLICE through my skull. Thankfully I paused long enough to drink some water and answer a question before i took another bite. Thankfully I felt the pain. Now, I don't know if this is common but keep in mind I dropped sugar from diet completely. No soda, no coffee, unsweetened tea, and veggies. I've been granola for FIVE whole days now and there I go dropping a sugar bomb on my serene bloodstream.
I have found that pain, physical or mental, is God's surefire way to get some one's attention. Maybe this wasn't God. Maybe it was just my body. Either way, my attention gets gotten when there is pain. I had a screaming headache and it had SUGAR radiating from a neon sign. Below it were the words"dumb ass", just in case I wasn't sure getting the headache was my fault. Ow.

I am learning , learning, and that lesson need not be taught again. Sugar is out. Healthy is in. Hey, I didn't even beat myself up too badly. Veggies - they do the body and the mind some good. Perhaps they have a bit if self love mixed in with all their vitamins and crunchiness. I'll take it....with a side of hummus.

It all started simply enough. I began reading Skinny Bitch, not because I wanted to be a bitch but because i totally wanted to be skinny. I had tried everything else; counting calories, writing down everything I ate, low fat, no fat, low calories, no calories, oh yes, and exercise. Still, I've remained the same for oh, months, years, and what else can I do? I get as motivated as the next person when I watch the Biggest Loser and I bet if I worked out for 6-8 hours a day then I would lose 10 pounds a week too. Unfortunately i have that pesky issue - oh yes, a job. So that is out. Puking and starving myself ? Totally out. Although I can kind of admire their sick dedication, it is a sickness and you know, I have enough sick crap rolling around in my head - no need to add another. Oh yes, and I have daughters. I mustn't totally mind screw them. It is my deepest desire (well, one of them) that they love themselves and don't ever participate in the sadistic game of COMPARISON. Wouldn't we all be better off if we could appreciate each other instead of envy each other? Oh well, I'm getting off course here.
So, my sister in law was nice enough to lend me the book. She said it was good. I had heard it is very straight up and to be honest, had avoided it because I really didn't want anyone telling me I was fat - straight up or dancing around a bush. But I said sure because hey, what I was doing was getting old and my sister in law, well she is a Skinny Bitch. (don't freak out ya'll. She'll consider this a great compliment). It was Sunday, August 2ND (which is now my official veggie birthday. I am expecting a celebration. And a vegan cheesecake. :) ) and my sweet hubby was cooking a turkey. I started to read. If you haven't read this book, you should. It is quite funny and full of information. But if you are prudish or easily shocked you will need to get over it or not read it because you will be called a pussy or a fat cow more than once. Don't worry - they say it in love.
Anyway, I'm reading. I'm hooked and laughing and nodding my head in agreement, yes I do need to stop drinking soda and smoking and start exercising and.... the list goes on and on. I'm starting to think that the book makes a lot of sense and I should start eating more veggies but not just veggies. I couldn't do that. but more veggies. Then I got to the chapter about animals.
Now, I am not an animal lover. I do not get excited over exotic birds (or ANY bird for that matter), I'm not interested in swimming with dolphins (duh - sharks), cats to me are satan incarnate, and dogs, well, they smell. I have a dog. And he's the only creature I love. I really do think he is the only lovable one. I go to the zoo every few years with the kids and I'm good. The best part to me is if i get lucky enough to see an elephant pee. It is freakin hilarious. I know I sound immature and maybe a little gross but then, you must not have ever seen an elephant pee. Freakin. Hilarious.
Ok, so I am at the chapter about animals and I knew it would be graphic. I mean, they are trying to make a point so we all know, it's got to be graphic. But I never expected what I read and then pictured in my mind. As I write this I am getting tears in my eyes just thinking about it. Remember - not an animal person. It was truly horrible. I sobbed. My 14 year old daughter, we'll call her Sammi, looked at me like I had lost my mind. My husband, we'll call him Jeff, looked at me the same way. I couldn't stop crying or thinking that I had a turkey cooking in the oven. I almost puked. It was right then that the change took place. (ok I am crying now)
I thought of all these comments I had ever made regarding food. My best friend is .. well, awesome but also very spiritual. She very much believes that how we treat creatures or any living thing comes back to us. My sister in law, she's vegan. That pretty much sums it up. We all know how she would feel about animals then. I on the other hand, I'm very ashamed at how callous and unfeeling I must have sounded - even to myself. Well, now. Not then obviously.
I felt like God was shaking up my insides. I felt like the tears were His way of cleaning me out. I also think He wouldn't have minded if had puked but I was able to keep a clamp on that one. I was crying for being a part of something so cruel and unnecessary. I was crying because I didn't know better and I should have. I cried because God gave us this earth and the animals and commanded us to take care of them and we have screwed that up royally. Maybe you don't believe in God and that's ok but I do. And at that moment I felt like He was holding me accountable for being complacent. Maybe I hadn't personally ripped off a cow's leg or boiled a pig alive but I certainly didn't do much to stop it either. In fact, I didn't even want to know about it. Whoever said "ignorance is bliss" is a selfish asshole. (yes I am a christian but I do cuss. God knows. Deal with it.) I knew I would always be different. I still don't know how different or where the line gets drawn but I am different.
God says (if you don't believe in God, again, just roll with me here) that if we do something and we know it is wrong, we are sinning. How could I ever eat meat again and then look God in the face? I couldn't. I can't. I don't know if I would be able to look at myself the same. That's saying a lot. I've done some pretty bad things and managed to look at myself just fine.
It's been a week. I am still adjusting, searching, learning, reading, and trying to find a balance. But I am excited and motivated. And guess what? I feel fabulous. And guess what else? I've lost 3 pounds this week. Bonus.