It’s days like this that I am glad that Charlene and I live on opposite coasts. Read on to find out why.
Day 3:
elizabeth:
I am not sleeping well – is it be the plight of innocent animals that is keeping me awake or is it a bit of indigestion from that damn veggie turkey? I am so off veggie turkey. My cats won’t even eat it. Would it be animal cruelty if I tried to slip it into their evening meal? I am not even going to try. They are on speed dial with their lawyer.
I think I am going to make a change in how, or I should say in what I eat. I can’t get those animals and what they are subjected to out of my head. I hope you notice that I did not go all graphic with what I have confronted again. Don’t get me wrong – a world without pepperoni on my pizza is total madness and I think I can no longer watch the Food Channel’sDinners, Dives and Drive-Ins. I went without a hamburger for 15 years until Guy Fieri took me to one too many greasy spoons and I caved in. Man, am I a cheap date.
Had a veggie burger and I was happy to be back in the land of Boca. Maybe we can get Guy to convert? Maybe when….pigs fly?
Now I am not seeing the weight melting off. Oh, Ms. Freston, author of Veganist , may I have a word with you? 🙂
And this little piggy used to go “Wee! Wee! Wee!” all the way home.
Day Threee:
Charlene:
We’re all friends here right? I have a confession to make. The real reason I was reluctant to go vegan for a week had nothing to do with what I would or would not be eating. Sure, I had to give up my beloved cream in my morning coffee and yes, when I had pasta I had to pass the parmesan cheese to the right without shaking some over my plate (BTW – I’m not talking about that stuff in the green can, I’m talking about the real stuff, I haven’t eaten that green can stuff in years), but I get to fill the voice with things like chips with guacamole and pita chips with hummus.
So, no, that’s not the reason.
The reason I was reluctant to eat a vegan diet for a week was out of fear. The fear of having gas. Uncomfortable, bloaty, smelly gas. And… ahem… after the bean-o-thon of last night’s dinner and the leftovers I consumed today for lunch at bean-o-thon part two, my fear has come to full fruition. Never in my life have I been so sad that I don’t have a farting dog. If I had a farting dog at least I could sit near her and blame her from the odious smell that is apparently coming from my body. I’d slip her some beans when nobody’s looking, but I think giving her the bad uncomfortable gas that I’m experiencing would be sort of the opposite of the whole anti-cruelty to animals that veganism is supposed to bring. So there you have it, my dirty little secret.
Today I had peanut butter toast with honey and bananas. Of course it was only after I slathered honey on top of my melty peanut butter I realized that honey is probably not considered vegan because it is made from bees. Oh give me a freaking break people. Bees like making honey. Cows might not like that farmer getting overly friendly for the sake of my beloved brie, but one thing I know for sure is that bees do not mind making honey. And so what if they do – they’re freaking bees! For lunch I had leftovers from last night’s dinner. For dinner my friend Lucy came over for cocktails and we had chips with hummus, tapenade, dolmas, olives and these really salty yummy almonds. Delicious. I’m a little frightened that I’m not missing my normal food – I’d hate for this to become a habit!
