Project Vegetarian

Abstract: This week, I decided to do a bit of a social/health experiment: I decided to be a vegetarian.

Introduction: Unlike most vegetarians, my motivation for doing this was not that I hate the idea of eating things that once had faces or that I don't really like meat. My mission was more health-based. I have had a very temperamental digestive system ever since I was a baby, and my body seems to go in cycles with whether or not my intestines decide to cooperate. The last two weeks or so, they decided not to cooperate.

I haven't been unreasonably stressed, so I don't think my discomfort was due to that this time. So I did some thinking, and I concluded that it must be because my body is having trouble digesting some of the things I eat. I eat a relatively balanced diet, with fruits, meat, carbs, (some) veggies - you know, things you're supposed to eat - and out of those categories, the only one which has ever triggered problems with me is meat. So I decided to cut that out of my diet this week.

There was another side to my motivation too, though. Vegetarians at my school always bitch that there's nothing good to eat here. I always thought that there were plenty of good foods, especially because the dining halls always feature at least one vegetarian or vegan dish at each meal. So I wanted to see if their bitching is warranted or not.

Methods: I avoided meat and fish for 5 days (which was especially hard when I craved sushi). I substituted alternative protein sources for meat, like tofu, beans, and cheese. I ate lots of salad.

Results: I made it the whole 5 days. I noticed an improvement in my digestive comfort, and I also noticed that there ain't shit for vegetarian food at my school.

Discussion: Project Vegetarian was a great challenge for me, but I am thrilled that my 5-day experiment period is over. I'm sorry, but vegetables suck. I have never once in my life craved a big bowl of vegetables. I only eat them because I know I'm supposed to.

I did experience noticeable improvements in my digestion, though. I had no discomfort this week at all! I didn't really increase my intake of green veggies, but I think that maybe the decrease in complex protein consumption took some of the pressure of digestion off my stomach and intestines.

I have also concluded that vegetarians are absolutely in the right when they complain about my school's food. I swear, I have never eaten so many variations of noodle-vegetable-sauce dishes in my life. Dinner got to be very monotonous. The best thing I had all week was vegetarian chili and mashed potatoes, and that was nowhere near as delicious as beefy chili. Even salad was more appealing than most of the dishes.

Conclusion: I am totally going to eat a big, fat plate of beef for dinner tonight.

This one's for the ladies

I wish I could be a self-esteem counselor, specifically for girls with self-image issues. I feel like I'm at a really good place with myself and my body right now. It's taken a lot of work to get here, though.

I don't understand where this pressure for American girls to be skinny originated. And men don't even seem to understand that it's there. Honestly, maybe only ONE in ten girls (if you're lucky) doesn't struggle constantly with her self-image, constantly being the operative word. I firmly believe that all women experience dissatisfaction with their body shape or weight at least once in a while. Even though my attitude about my own body has improved substantially, I still get disappointed with myself every now and then and wish that for once I could be the super-skinny, physically flawless Victoria's Secret model inside my Cosmopolitan magazine.

But the thing is, unless you are that model, you can never be that model. Everyone on Earth has unique body, and no matter how hard you work it, no matter how many things you do to modify it, it will never be the body you see in the magazine. At least in your mind.

It's all just frame of mind, really. You will never be enough unless you believe that you can be. I think that's the problem with the female American culture: we constantly tell ourselves that we'll never be enough. We're always wanting something more. The media only intensifies the message we're sending ourselves.

Like I've said, I've worked long and hard to get to this point of self-acceptance. Rather than viewing my body as something superficial, something that is only there for looks, I view it as a functional vessel. It exists so that I can do things, like learn, cook, play an instrument, create artwork, sing, walk seven miles, and love other people. It is a house for my personality and my spirit. It is something that is very important that should be taken care of and loved, not hated and deprived.

I wish I could help my fellow girls in understanding this idea. It's really difficult discovering this truth by yourself. And coming to this realization has improved my life on the whole, not just in the self-esteem department, so I hope that I can help guide other ladies toward a similar positive change in their lives.

So you wanna be a rock superstar?

I really, really wish I could be a rock star. I've always wanted to be the frontwoman of a super famous, super talented, super awesome band.

I definitely have the stage presence for it. I've been doing theater for about 10 years, so I know how to present myself in front of an audience. I have excellent public speaking skills, and I'm not afraid of being by myself in front of a large amount of people. I've been told that I stand out in a crowd when I want to.

I also have the personality for it. I'm zany, but smart. I'm expressive, but not ostentatious. I'm creative, but also down-to-earth. I'm pretty chill, but I also have a noticeable dorky side. I think I'd be a likable and interesting public figure.

I just wish I had a stronger voice. I absolutely love singing, but I'm not good enough to command a stadium. I can do more than just carry a tune, yet I'm not even close to rock star status. This makes me sad.

It could be so easy for me. I could make millions of dollars and pay off all my debts, and at the same time release music that changes people's lives, or at least makes them enjoy life a little bit more. I could strengthen the presence of women in rock and roll and become a positive role model for my younger listeners. I could use my popularity to gain support for animal rights and charities and stuff. And everybody would always be looking at me and wishing they were as cool as I was.

I just want people to wish they were me for once.

It's about friggen time!

Finally getting a chance to update this thing! Gawd!

Yeah, it's been pretty busy. School hasn't been overly demanding this year so far, and even though this week has been the busiest I've had in a while, it doesn't even compare to my busy weeks last year. The most time-consuming aspects of my week weren't even school-related - I had job training two of the nights and a three-hour lab on one of the others. If I didn't have an exam today, that probably wouldn't even have seemed like much of a packed schedule. It was just the squeezing-in-time-for-studying part that made it seem extra busy.

I never got fully depressed or anything, but as you may have noticed from my last few posts, I did hit a bit of a low point. I'm doing better now. I haven't been plagued with too many melancholy thoughts as of late (which may or may not have had to do with my busy-ness). The only sadness I've experienced in, like, the last week and a half was caused by a disturbing dream I had last night. The good news about that is that dreams aren't real life, so I'm feeling just fine in my waking self.

IT'S ALMOST OCTOBER YAAAAAAAY! I love October! Next to December, it's my favorite month. Just like with December, a lot of that has to do with the holiday at the end of it. Halloween has always been one of the days I look forward to most out of the year. I like to dress up and eat candy. But I also like October because of the general feel of the month: freshness, mischief, crisp Autumn air, apples, pumpkins, corn maizes, black cats... I can't exactly pinpoint the feeling October arouses in me, but whatever it is, I LOVE it.

Speaking of October and Halloween, I still don't have any costume ideas....

Always dreaming of the past...

Once again, I woke up this morning feeling rather sad and nostalgic. Usually this happens when I've had a dream about some sort of happy memory or somebody I haven't seen in a long time. Today is no different.

Last night I dreamt that I was at a dining room table surrounded by my cousins. We were all laughing, eating cinnamon rolls (why? I don't know.), and quoting the Christopher Walken SNL skit "Googly Eyes" (again, why? I have no idea.) Each of us was so happy and didn't have a care in the world, other than who would get to finish off the glaze used to frost the cinnamon rolls. I can still feel remnants of the warmth that filled me in my sleep when I looked around at my smiling family and felt like bursting with joy and love.

These sorts of dreams are bittersweet for me. They make me so incredibly happy, but when I wake up, I wish I could go back to sleep forever just so I can hold onto that feeling. Only in dreams can I have the past once more. When I'm conscious, all I can do is try to remember. I can't see the past as clearly, and instead of becoming filled with the cheer of my childhood, I'm left with an empty longing.

I wish I could let go. I know that those days are gone and that I should be concentrating on making the present just as wonderful, but I can't help thinking that things were so much better back then. I've been corrupted. I can never experience the pure, innocent bliss of childhood ever again. I can bring pieces of it into my life, but things are too complicated now to fully convert. All I can do is dream.

I apoligize for the slew of slightly depressing entries as of late. I am not completely depressed; I just tend to write about the emotions which affect me the most. Nostalgia happens to be one of them.

Just another misfit toy

I wish I could figure out what is wrong with me. Sometimes I think I have some form of social anxiety or agoraphobia. I never think too seriously about diagnosing myself because I'm a psychology major and shouldn't be abusing my knowledge by suddenly concluding that I have some sort(s) of mental disorder(s). At the same time, I never fully dismiss the possibility. You never know.

The reason I bring all this up is because I've been having a lot of difficulty feeling comfortable in certain social situations. Most notably, I get very uncomfortable when I am introduced to a group of people who are friends of a friend of mine. Introductions are fine and I like meeting new people and everything, but if I hang around the group for too long, I start getting depressed. They'll all be talking to one another and having a great time, but I get all sad and quiet and keep to myself. Even if they try to involve me in the conversation, I don't get any happier or more talkative. Then I start worrying that I'm doing a horrible job of representing myself, realizing that I'm probably coming off as super shy or a total bitch, of which I am neither, and a billion negative thoughts start running through my head, making me even sadder and quieter. Ultimately, I leave the group and go off on my own way, feeling depressed and disappointed in myself.

I don't fully understand why this happens, but I think it may have to do with the fact that I haven't had a core group of close friends since I moved to Spencer in the summer before 5th grade. I barely remember what it's like to know several people intimately all at once and to want to spend all my free time with them. I long for this feeling again so badly, but I feel like I keep fucking up my chances. Being introduced to a group of people is a perfect opportunity to make myself part of a group, but something in my head always tells me first that it's too late, and I get discouraged. Every day, I feel like I'm running out of time, that everybody is getting to be friends with each other and that soon I'm going to be left all alone with nowhere to belong.

The reality is that it's never too late. I know that people don't suddenly decide they have enough friends and don't want any more in their life. In fact, I'm sure there are plenty of people like me out there who are longing for a place to belong. I just don't know where to find them, and I get overwhelmed with how big the world is and with how many people are in it. I wish I could just wear a neon sign over my head saying "looking for best friends" and having an arrow pointing down to me. Maybe that would help.

I hate that I know better. I know that I should be going out and actively trying to get to know people, even if they already all know each other. But I just can't shake the sadness that seems to be weighing me down.

I wish I could just get a chocolate lab puppy and name her Riley and have her be my best friend.

Lamey Lameface Lameford

As endearing as my college nickname "Lamey" is, it's also kind of a cruel reality. I am very lame. Or at least by many people's standards.

I don't go out very much. I don't enjoy big parties. I just don't see a point in getting hammered and talking to a bunch of people you don't know and won't remember the next day. Most of the time, there are just so many people that I don't know what to do with myself. That's not really my idea of fun.

What's fun for me is gathering with a small group of friends to play games, or getting into my pajamas and baking cupcakes, or challenging myself to a difficult crossword puzzle. Of course all of these activities can be enhanced with alcohol if I feel like having a crazy night, but that's pretty much the extent of my party animal-ness.

I don't see these preferences as making me lame, but a lot of other people do. It makes me kind of sad, to tell you the truth.