Reason # 212 why I'm glad to be a vegan

Meat eaters will eat an average of 21,000 animals in a lifetime. 

(also read that in Foer's book)

woof.

oh, it's fun to be single and vegan during the holidays

...well. I survived. Single in our house translates into being relegated to sleeping on the god damn air mattress...as if I needed another reminder of how pathetic being single is around the holidays. I debated on bringing home a match.com date just to feel the privledge of sleeping on a real bed.  Perhaps though, that would be cause for not even being allowed to sleep in the house...and might be more awkward than a little air mattress back pain in the morning.

Now, don't get the wrong idea. I'd sleep on a ton of bricks just to have the family all in one place (and I do love and appreciate them all)...I don't really mean to sound like an ungrateful, pms'ing bitch. I promise, I'm not...sometimes it just takes a small straw to set me off.

I also won't admit it too loudly.  It's hard to be vegan around the holidays.  Especially when there are 20 lbs of lobster steaming in my parent's kitchen.  The fact that I still wanted it even after I actually saw my dad battle one of the live, 5 pounders, to plunge into it's own sauna of death...felt wrong?  I felt terrible about myself.  Actually, I might feel even worse about myself at the moment, thinking about my close call with lobster AS I'm watching the Bachelor get waxed on television.   

Poptarts

In a day that everything went wrong, and I really am not exaggerating... it began with falling asleep on boxes last night and forgetting to set my alarm for this morning.  It ended with trying to get my broken phone replaced because of a faulty and inconsistent ringer problem.  When I explained the problem (my phone not ringing) it magically started to ring.  I was on tech support for 30 minutes pleading my case, when finally, they agreed to replace my phone.  I felt the illusion of good luck for 20 seconds, until the tech support person said, "oh, shit."  My warranty ended two days prior.  TWO DAYS. So...no phone. 

Anyway, that wasn't even the worst part of my day...but I won't go into that.  If it wasn't for this one student, I would most likely be curled up in the fetal position, listening to Joni Mitchell, sobbing... pathetically.
Students were bringing in little gifts all week for Christmas and I was writing thank-you notes and handing them out periodically.  This morning was the last day before break.  This wonderfully, kind hearted student came into class today, smiling.  Just to give you a little background... last year, this student's father died on his birthday...the anniversary being only a few days ago.  They don't have much at home.  He walked over to my desk and handed me a package of poptarts.  He said, "I wanted to get you something."  I gave him a thank-you note later and he proudly put it in his pocket and carried it around. When I asked him if he was doing anything special over break, he told me he was happy because the church brought over a box of food.  This student gave me poptarts, most likely a part of the food box that his family was given.  He gave me what is most likely a treat to him, something he doesn't normally have.  He literally gave me what he had. 

That's what this season is about.

Honestly, after crying, I contemplated giving up veganism to eat these poptarts.  Instead, I think I'll have them framed or preserved in some way.  Ha.

Merry Christmas.    

Seahorse Love

I'm currently reading the book, Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer and learned the following about these amazing little creatures:

The sea horse can often die from exhaustion if stuck in a current or getting caught in a wave because their tiny fins have to beat much like a hummingbird to swim.  Thirty five species of seahorses are actually in danger of extinction due to being a casualty of seafood production (mostly shrimp).

Because seahorses are so easily exhausted, they usually anchor their tail in seaweed or link to each other to prevent from being swept away.

The most amazing thing about seahorses (besides that the male gives birth) is that they mate for life and are monogamous.   

P.s. If you haven't read Foer's book, you should.  It's Amazing.

Murphy's Law

Unwilling to give up my morning coffee stop at Sheetz, I have been cleverly carrying a small tupperware container of soy coffee cream with me in my purse.  This Monday morning, I got my coffee as usual, but when I tried to open it in the car, the damn tupperware lid was vacuumed shut.  I tried opening it from all different angles and started to get flustered because the clock was ticking and I was already running late.  In a moment of desperation, I tugged at the lid with all my might and the entire contents flew all over my jacket, my pants...soaking through to my underwear.  As I began hysterically screaming "why me"  like Nancy Kerrigan circa 1994, I caught a glimse at myself in the rearview mirror.  I had soy creamer stuck on my eyebrows.  That was my low.  I was really glad I thought ahead to bring enough for my afternoon coffee as well.  Sitting in my wet seat all the way to school where I teach, I had a developed quite a mean, urine looking stain and soy swamp ass.  As I walked through the crowded eighth grade hallway with no cover since my jacket was soaking wet, I couldn't help but think how this could have been avoided if I drank normal cream.

Carnivores-1  Vegans-0 

# 63 of Things You Shouldn't do as a Single

Shopping in a city where there is a serial killer on the loose.

My mom just called to warn me.  There's a serial killer on the loose in Philadelphia.  I guess I should make alternative plans, pepper spray may not be sufficient for warding off a serial killer. 

Survival Mode

I'll tell you.  It's been a long road to get here.  It all started two years ago when I was in my then boyfriend of three and a half year's  truck driving home from somewhere one night.  I was watching the moon and remembered back to my six year old self.  I used to watch the moon, like every other kid, from in the car and pretend it was chasing us...popping out from behind trees, darting behind buildings.  I thought about what that six year old version of me would say about my life now.  What would six year old Meg say?  I was pretty sure she would say, "Get out of that fucking truck.  If you have to try and be happy, you're not happy." 

I'm not going to attribute everything that happened after that to a younger version of myself, but I did get out of that truck. Three weeks later, I moved out. 

The Seinfeld-ian train wreck of misfortunate things that have ensued since then is quite hilarious, and I've never been happier.