My co-workers think that blogging is just a symptom of pathological narcissim. In an attempt to join the ranks of narcissists everywhere, here I am!!! Worst case scenario, my words will amount to mere...blah...blah...blahs.
Okay, I'm going to admit to something awful. I'm revisiting veganism. This is my second tour of duty. So I'm scum. No, not because I've now joined the more enlightened, but because I fully empathized with farm animals and understood the environmental and economic harms created by the meat industry, and yet one day I walked straight into a burger joint and ordered a big greasy hamburger. I didn't even blink. I then spent the next six months hiding the fact that I was eating meat from my friends, family, and co-workers. If you're vegan, the thought of eating meat probably makes you sick, and you probably think I'm a fucking fascist, right? Well please don't write me off just yet.
I started eating meat on the request of my boyfriend, who is an omnivore. He and I have been dating for six years. He was previously married to a vegetarian. One of the things he liked about me was that I would eat meat. That may sound strange, but food is an integral part of our culture and relationships. It is particularly important during initial dating. It seriously ruins when you are at a romantic restaurant, sitting next to each other, letting your leg gently rest against his, and when he asks what you want to eat...you start discussing the litany of the "can't-haves." "Well, I would get the chicken pasta, but I hope they can take out the chicken, butter, cream, etc..." Don't you ever feel like the girl from When Harry Met Sally, except there is no amazing fake orgasm to punctuate your order? Anyway, my boyfriend begged me to stop being vegan.
Sure I'm generally compliant, but I also knew there were benefits to being an omnivore. I could have dinners with acquaintances without having to explain my diet, my ethical rationale for my diet, and then bear their excuses for their choices (not to mention the occassional attacks on my beliefs). Also, I'm an attorney. Dinners with clients were awkward if I ended up eating only lettuce for dinner because lettuce was the only vegan option on the menu. Being an omnivore was just easier.
So, I started eating meat and it tasted good. Within one year, I gained 80 pounds. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that I'm a compulsive overeater too. I would eat what I call amorphous meat, which includes any meat that doesn't come on a bone. No bones, I could convince myself I wasn't killing an innocent animal for my own selfish desires. Anyway, the other day, I went to a Chinese barbeque restaurant. The food was awesome. We had ordered duck, pork, and beef dishes. I was so excited because good Chinese food is hard to come by in my city. On the way out of the restaurant, I had to wait for my boyfriend to pay the bill. I stood right next to place they hung all of the carcasses of dead chickens, ducks, and other meats. I tried to overt my eyes so I wouldn't feel sick. Unfortunately, in attempt to overt my eyes, my gaze rested on the head of dead pig --probably the one I had just eaten. The cooks had sewn his mouth open so that his mouth was cocked into a giant unnatural grin. Were they trying to make us believe this little pig was happy to be eaten? It was grotesque. I was grotesque for eating that poor pig.
I decided to go home and start segregating my refrigerator. Sean's dairy products and meat go into separate drawers that do not touch the rest of my food. He has to buy and cook his own meat. I won't touch it. That was three weeks ago. I've already lost 13 pounds! Better yet, I'm not compromising my beliefs anymore. If I'm a vegan freak --so be it! Fuck 'em!
