Other girls get their boobies during puberty.
I get them when my body decays into a paunchy white dumpling sack.
Hip-hip-fucking-hooray.
I was a vegetarian for 7 years before transitioning to veganism in 2010.
My preference in lifestyle choice stems from a desire to live cruelty free, as well as enjoy the health benefits of eliminating meat and dairy products, which are often loaded with hormones, fat, cholestrol-raising agents, and other yucky shit.
The environmental impact of raising/processing meat is shocking, and according to the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations “one of the top two or three most significant contributors to the most serious environmental problems, at every scale from local to global.”
I’m not trying to come off as a preachy hippie (a stereotype that the modern vegan population can’t seem to shake, despite including people of all different walks of life), and I understand that some PETA douchebags have done a brilliant job of embarrassing animal rights advocates… But not every one of us a belligerent asshole, flinging blood on anyone in a leather jacket.
One of the servers who works in my parents’ restaurant will bring in cartons of beautiful, pastel pink & mint duck eggs from a friend of his who raises the birds as his pets. Humane, natural, and local, I don’t have any problem with their source. Over the weekend, I had my first taste, in the form of dairy-free deviled eggs. While I’m not sure that I’d feel comfortable drinking milk again, the occasional scrambled sandwich, courtesy of a happy neighborhood duckie, sounds egg-cellent to me. :]
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I remember when I cared about things like eye makeup,
and a strong, toned, body,
and modeling,
and eating,
and washing my hair with cold water.
I remember nights spent laughing, maybe even sleeping.
I remember days spent working, and doing, and living.
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And what do you do when in the midst the already whirling anxiety hurricane, life throws you the biggest surprise of all?
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