Meat is Dead

Oh... hey... sorry.... I guess I kind of forgot that I like blogging and that it only works if you actually write stuff in your blog. I remember now!

So it's... November now.... That means that my vegan journey officially began over a year ago. Soooooo much has changed in my thinking in that amount of time. Let's go on a little journey through memory lane, shall we?

So last October my sister called me to tell me about the episode of Oprah she'd seen illuminating the problems with the meat industry and advertising the growing vegan movement. A lightning bolt struck my core of beliefs and I decided before she'd finished her sentence that I was going to join the movement and give up my baked brie cheese fetish once and for all. I started ferociously baking 20-lb cheese-less veggie pizzas daily. (I think I just answered my ever-lingering question of why I gained weight the second I became vegan....) I did this for about a month, bolstering my fierce devotion to the Veg Cause by lapping up the segments of animal cruelty in Alicia Silverstone's book The Kind Diet. At the Italian restaurant I managed in Santa Barbara, I traded in my nightly employee meal of three-cheese-and-jalapeno fusilli for a simple marinara and veggie capellini. I patted myself on the back, feeling the wings of my self-righteousness lift my compassionate feet straight up from the floor and into the wanna-be-Sistine-Chapel-replica that adorned the ceiling of our eatery.

But then... something... happened.

I guess.

I mean, it MUST have.

Because last Thanksgiving, my younger sister and I had one of our "Traditional Sister Thanksgivings" where we only have one day off of work so we stay in Santa Barbara together and get drunk and see a movie. And last year we went to the Holdrens Steakhouse in Goleta. And I got three dirty Ketel martinis with bleu-cheese-stuffed olives. And an appetizer of...

steak.




Okay? I said it, okay?!! Steak. STEAK! STEAK STEAK STEAK STEAK STEAK STEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Huh. Now that doesn't look like a real word. That IS how you spell that, right? Hm.

Anyway, what's weird is I don't remember having any dramatic vegan downfall or anything. All I know is that in October I was eating homemade paprika hummus, on Thanksgiving I was eating stinky cheese and steak, and on Christmas I was the one trying to make chopped salad and roasted vegetables the new holiday meal. I guess I just had a bumpy start, and then in December-ish I started my serious, no-nonsense commitment.

Ish.

For the nine months I lived in Encinitas, I was puuuuuuuumped on veganism. It was so easy! I was managing a veg-friendly cafe with such magic vegan ingredients as Daiya mozzarella cheese, tempeh strips, and Gardein "mock" chicken. While I mostly shoveled down big romaine lettuce salads with rice and veggies and tofu dill dressing, I never had a lack of variety of interesting and comforting foods (*cough*cough* vegan chocolate cupcakes with Tofutti soy cream cheese frosting *cough*cough).

When I decided to come up here to SLO, my same wise sister who inspired me to go veg in the first place said to me, "Be careful, that's like the BBQ capital of California up there."

I laughed. What, am I gonna be walking around downtown and trip and fall open-mouthed onto a rib?? HA. Nonsense.

And really, that's NOT what happened. No.... What happened was that about a month ago I started having gnarly red-meat cravings. And I mean GNARLY. I work at a place that serves hamburgers, tri-tip sandwich rolls, and pastrami sandwiches. Normally these things gross me out. But for about three weeks, they made my stomach grumble with desire. There was an off-putting disjointedness occurring between my watering mouth and the knowledge that the enticing aroma belonged to a dead animal's cooked carcass. Nothing about the REALITY of meat was appetizing to me anymore... but it took all my willpower not to scramble over the bar counter and rip that half-eaten, ketchup-y hamburger from the lunching accountant and smear my quivering lips all over it.

I couldn't contain my sinful thoughts anymore. I exploded one morning in a fit of fiery confession at my poor innocent mother. I told her that I was a siiiiiiiiick fuuuuuuuck and that I'd been thinking about meat every. single. day. and that I didn't know WHAT to DO about it. She recommended that I go online and look up other vegetarian's struggles with meat cravings. I did just that. And all I really learned is that for SOME reason, whenever people in online groups write comments, they try emBARrassingly hard to use big words and look like fucking geniuses. I sorted through all the henceforths, the inasmuches, and the neverthelesses before realizing that these people had nothing to do with me. And also that I hated them.

I called my wise sister and asked her advice. She recommended that I eat a big meaty veggie burger with all the fixin's. I smiled weakly. I was too far gone in my desires to be appeased by a measly Gardenburger. I was seeing red. That Thursday I went to the local farmers' market with my friend Stephen. We moseyed around the crowded street looking for a portable meal. I mumbled something in an off-handed manner about wanting something with steak and then chuckled nervously. Unaware of the internal battles over the matter twisting their way through my guts and my consciousness, he murmured politely in agreement and then bumped into me when I halted suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk, panting feverishly and pointing at a food stand with my tongue hanging crookedly out of the side of my mouth. He took a second to shudder at my demonic expression, then joined me in line for the fattening steak-and-cheese baked pastry pies I'd zoned in on. I struggled to order one as my teeth chattered in guilty anticipation and sheer manic expectation.

We sat on the curb and ate our steak pies. Stephen chatted about school and I heard my mouth say "Uh huh. Yeah. School. Got it." as my hands tried to push away my thick ethics surrounding them and getting in the way of me and my meeeeeat.

One bite. Hm.


Two bites. It tastes... good??


Three bites. But it kind of also tastes like... poop?? I mean actual... poop?


I finished the small-yet-rich dish. I blinked. I looked at my hands. I remembered Stephen. I looked at him. "Ready to go to the movie?" he asked. I nodded. I felt sad.

I sat through the movie 50/50, which was so good I forgot to think about the fact that I had part of a cow in my tummy. Well, I TRIED to forget. Every fifteen minutes, the cow took its angry hoof and jutted me right in the lower intestine. I spent the second half of the film breathing like a breeding woman (deeply in through my nose and out my mouth), willing myself not to insult the cow's memory by upchucking its remains onto the theater floor. I repented.

That was a couple of weeks ago. Since then, I have reverted to my former opinion of meat as food: not for me. I ate a bunch of sauteed mushrooms and roasted kale, and the cravings went away entirely. Just needed some iron, I guess. I really need to pay more attention to meal-planning so that I can get all of my nutrients and not walk around in an anemic haze thinking that I need to go grabbing up innocent animals and putting them in my mouth. **shudder**

It's not that San Luis doesn't offer a vegan-friendly environment. It actually is REALLY veg-friendly. More often than not, restaurants will actually say on their menus to ask servers about "vegan options." The actual word "vegan" is on there, guys! That's huge!!!! I think that what IS different for me is that in Encinitas I was surrounded by fellow vegans, and it was something that I was actively participating in every day of my life. Since I moved here... it's been such a private journey. I quietly eat my char-broiled artichoke at work and order my almond-milk lattes at Linnaea's Cafe. I politely answer coworkers' questions about why I don't eat meat and I not-so-politely roll my eyes when they try to catch me on a million ways I'm "cheating" on veganism. Yes, I'm wearing my mom's leather cowgirl boots. I don't feel bad about it, either. No, I didn't know that beer contains fish brains. I'm still going to finish my pint, thank you. And so on and so forth. I guess it's made me realize that even though veganism IS exciting and IS trendy and super rad and brilliant and all those other amazing things... it's also just a non-glamorous lifestyle that you agree to each and every day, whether there's someone to high-five you about it or not. And you know what? There's something beautiful about that. If veganism is perfection, then I am far from it. But it's nice to at least strive for something, and to so firmly believe in something that could potentially save the world. Also... I really just kinda like the almond-milk lattes at Linnaea's....