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.

Weekend: Part II (and the days following)

Minus the Friday fiasco, my weekend was great! I went to Copley Square, I watched movies, I hung out with my sister, and I went to the Cheesecake Factory and had a delicious dinner followed by delicious cheesecake. Saturday through Monday were pretty low-key, just how I like it.

Classes have been going well. I've only had three classes of fencing, but so far I really like it! No swords yet since we're learning footwork and whatnot, but we played a game today that was pretty fun. It's called "Slap the belly." Basically, you face off with a partner, taking turns advancing and lunging, trying to see who can slap the other in the belly with a fencing glove first. I won a few rounds today. It was interesting to see how each person has a different fighting style. Personally, I need to work on being a little less aggressive and a little more tactful; the rounds I lost were the ones where I was concentrating too hard on attacking the other person rather than luring them in and waiting for them to lunge and miss before I counter-attacked.

I GOT A JOB! I'll be working for concessions at Agganis Arena. I'm thinking it's going to be a fun job because I'll be working with lots of fellow BU students and because we'll get to see/hear concerts and other cool events. Hopefully I get a decent number of hours, considering the hours aren't really fixed because they're driven by events.

Something I've been thinking about the last few days: have you ever noticed how you can usually tell right away if you're going to get along with somebody? Like, when you meet for the first time, you just click? I've been noticing that more and more since I've been meeting so many new people here. I've met lots of people who I know have the potential to be a great friend of mine, and I know this because there's, like, this little clicking feeling in my gut, like our personalities snapping together or something. I've also met some people who spark absolutely no feeling in me whatsoever. And it's not like they're bad people or anything. They're certainly nice and interesting. It's just that I feel absolutely nothing when I meet them. If anything, I feel like the brief companionship is forced, like both of us know that something isn't fitting into place. I don't think this a form of prejudice or anything. I think it's more of a natural or spiritual phenomenon.

I think I'll end here.

Weekend: Part I

This is the first weekend I've spent at school in a very long time. I left quite a bit last year, so I've kind of forgotten what it's like to have so much free time in Boston.

Friday night was... well, pretty horrible. One of my girlfriends - whom we shall call "A" - kidnapped me and convinced me to go out with her and her roommate. The first few hours of the night were spent with me trying to help her figure out what to wear (a.k.a. me voting for one outfit and her picking another one), me trying to convince her that she doesn't look fat in the chosen outfit (and all the other contenders, for that matter), and me ultimately feeling under-dressed and kind of butch. Even though what I was wearing - jeans and a t-shirt - was completely fine and entirely appropriate for the evening's festivities.

Then we went to my guy friend's - whom we shall call "B" - house to pre-game, which consisted of downing three shots of Tequila in 15 minutes. Off we went to the Sigma Chi party.

This is when the drama ensued.

But first: a bit of background history. A and B dated last year for a brief 2-month stint. History lesson over.

B's a pretty flirtatious guy. It's just in his nature. Half the time he doesn't even know he's doing it. A is a pretty worrisome girl. It's just in her nature. Most of the time she is completely aware she's doing it, but she does it anyway because she can't stop.

So at the party, B flirts with lots of girls. He even flirts with me, but that's not entirely out of his character. He's my best friend who at one point had, and maybe even still has, a crush on me. Anyhow, A gets jealous and decides we need to leave to go to another party hosted by a girl who lived on our floor last year. I don't object because I'm not a big fan of frat parties as it is, and the other party promised to be more low-key because it was hosted by two girls who happen to be potheads. In my mind, potheads are chill and would thus prevent further drama.

While all this is going on, A also feels responsible to show her roommate a good time. This is because her roommate transferred from Wheaton, a smaller college, to here in order to go to better parties.

We leave and start making our way to a house we've never been to before, apparently located in Brighton somewhere. A calls the girl from our floor, who tries to give us directions, but since both parties in the phone conversation are drunk and frustrated, we end up getting lost in Brighton. Then A and her roommate start fighting because we're lost instead of partying it up, and I just try to keep them from hating each other forever, which would be awkward since they live together.

A decides to call a taxi, and we go home.

What a fucking mess of a night.

The aftermath: A and her roommate are now mad at each other, A and B are now mad at each other, I can't hang out with A and B at the same time anymore, and I have decided that I'm never going to a frat party ever again because they're stupid.

Luckily the rest of my weekend has been decent so far! More on that later.

On being social

Quick update: I started classes yesterday, and so far, so good! Most of the topics are very interesting, and for the ones that aren't as much, the professors are funny and cool enough to make up for it. I think this is going to be a great semester.

Longer update: I've always thought of myself as a loner. I still think of myself as a loner. I honestly have no problem with spending some good quality time with myself. However, I have noticed the past few days that I tend to be happier when I'm social.

It's true that socializing does get tiring, but for some reason, each time I meet someone new and have a decent-length conversation with them, I find myself simply glowing afterward. I don't know whether it is because I put myself in such a friendly, happy, outgoing mood in order to make them feel comfortable and it merely carries over into my alone time, or if it's because I am genuinely glad to have interacted with another human being. I guess it doesn't really matter why it makes me happy, just as long as it makes me happy.

So I suppose this means I should be a little less of a hermit, especially when my mood is on the slightly gloomy side. I've never been one to share my problems with others, and I'm not saying I suddenly will; just maybe it might be helpful for me to surround myself with people when I'm upset rather than shut myself in my room.

Back in Boston!

I am officially moved in and cozy here at my new dorm. I love my room! It's so much bigger than I was expecting. You could easily fit a king-size blow-up mattress on the floor between the beds.

I got here yesterday at about 11:20 AM. After carrying all my stuff up four flights of stairs (my poor dad nearly had a heart attack), I met the rest of my family and hung out with them for a bit. They left after dinner and I met my buddy Aaron to hang out. The whole night was pretty low key; we just listened to music, played Super Smash Brothers (I suck at it >:[), and watched some movie about the Doors on TV. I got back to my dorm around 1 and talked to my roommate for a good half hour before going to sleep.

Speaking of my roommate, she's really nice! We spent several hours of the day today doing some roommie bonding. All I can say is that so far, so good. I can only hope that the rest of the year with her is just as great as these past two days!

Tomorrow begins the fall semester. This half of the year, I will be taking Drugs and Behavior (Psychology), Quantitative Reasoning (computer science), Biology I, American Sign Language, and FENCING! I'm excited to learn how to sword fight. Especially because it may be applicable later in life. Ha ha.

I can feel in my gut that it's going to be a great year :D

Long-distance love

Relationships are so weird. Long-distance relationships are even weirder.

After the warm glow of the new relationship flame dies down, you start to notice the little negatives. For some reason, these little negatives turn into big negatives when you add a couple miles between you and your partner. I think that it's because you have so much time to yourself to overthink, and it's so much easier to be mad at somebody for their flaws than it is to miss them.

I'm pretty sure my relationship is the toughest thing I've ever endured in my life. I often wonder how my life right now would have turned out had I not said yes to him. Easier, I'm sure. But I've grown so much and learned so much, and even though I still suffer, it will all be worth it in the end.

I hate when I have my doubting periods. Being unsure of what to do is one of the worst feelings in the world, especially when you're convinced that any decision you make will be a bad one. But the thing is, every time I see his face, I fall in love again and know that I am not ready to have him missing from my life.

I am feeling much better about everything now. This is just a cycle I go through. Every summer, as my move-in date inches closer and closer, I start worrying and getting angry about the dumbest things in my relationship. Then I act like a moody bitch, which I think is a subconscious effort to make things easier if the relationship takes a turn for the worst. But again, like I said, I just have to see his face to know that everything's going to be okay and that I really have nothing to be angry about.

Now that things are good in the hood, I can't wait to get back to school!

I'm not a cunt, I swear!

I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. Why can't I just be happy?

I'm not a cunt, I swear. My problem is that I'm a worrywart. I worry, I get nervous, and I get quiet. As a result, I come off as a total bitch. BUT I'M TOTALLY NOT ONE! So why do I allow myself to come off as one?

I don't mean this to sound conceited in any way, but I know that I am a good person. I'm kind, I'm funny, I'm smart, and I just have a very agreeable personality altogether. So why the fuck do I have so much trouble showing people that?!

I'm truly pissing myself off. It's not like I've only misrepresented myself once; I've misrepresented myself repeatedly. In front of all the same people, too. I've done nothing to convince them that I'm not a moody bitch, but I've done a wonderful job of reinforcing the idea that I am one. I feel like it's too late now to do anything about it, but I'm going to have to keep trying.

Please, please believe me when I say that I am a good, pleasant person. I promise that I am, and I'm horribly sorry that I haven't been able to prove that yet. Please give me another chance. Please?

Henry Ford is a murderer

Ever notice how one thing can throw off your whole day? (Note: this will NOT turn into ranting session.)

On my way home from dropping my brother off at work, I was driving down a back road when all of a sudden there was a flash of brown and a KATHUD. I looked in my rear view mirror to see a quivering blob of fur on the side of the road.

I still don't know what I hit. I just kept driving. I was in shock.

The whole ride home, and the rest of the day, I prayed and prayed that I didn't hit somebody's pet. At least when you hit a squirrel or a frog or a turtle, it is highly unlikely that it belongs to a family. The worst that could happen in that scenario is that the animal was a parent whose babies were depending on it for food. But if you hit a pet, it's just like you murdered some couple's adopted baby or some kids' hairy younger sibling.

My reasoning tells me that the animal was too small to be a dog and too round to be a cat. I think it may have been a groundhog or something of the sort.

Whatever it was, I'm sure I killed it. Even though it wasn't there later when I drove on that same road, the "kathud" was far too pronounced to have been anything other than a fatal hit.

I wasn't horribly depressed the rest of the day, but everything did seem a little more glum. It's hard for me to digest the fact that I couldn't have done anything to prevent the death of that animal.

Time to upgrade my life!

Dane Cook is a funny guy, though I find his voice and his general manner of speaking to be obnoxious. Thus, I can only watch his stand-up. If I happen to be listening to his comedy without some sort of visual aid, I suddenly become filled with anxiety and rage. Some might say it's an odd reaction.

Why then, one would ask, do I have a Dane Cook's CD "Retaliation: Want" on my ipod? My answer: I don't know. I keep forgetting to take it off. It bugs the crap out of me whenever one of his skits comes up on shuffle, especially the one called "Bamf". That one seems to come up a lot. I can't tell you how many times I've been jamming out to sweet tunes only to be interrupted by "I MADE SOME UPGRADES IN MY LIFE SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA UPGRADE YOUR LIFE THERE'S THINGS THAT YOU NEED TO DO YOU NEED TO INVEST IN YOURSELF IN YOUR SOUL." I usually switch it right there, before he goes on to talk about how he needs a new "ve-hick-ul" to become a "bad ass mother fucker."

But the last few times the skit has unpleasantly surprised me during my itunes visits, it got me thinking. Maybe Dane's right. Maybe it's time for me to upgrade my life. I mean, I don't need to upgrade to the title of BAMF because, obviously, I'm already there. Duh. But I do need to take some steps to revamp my badass self.

So I'm starting with this blog. I've had a livejournal ever since the tender age of 14. Me and LJ... man, we've had some good times. But lately there's been very little activity there. Also, I feel like that journal is somehow trapping me in my teenage years. My username is deppluvr, for Chrissakes. I am no longer the angsty, naive, wannabe-punkass I once was. Nor am I nearly as obsessed with Johnny Depp (though I still worship the man). Plus, I not-so-smartly made my journal friends-only and took on the tedious chore of locking each of my entries. I really don't feel like reversing that whole process, and I think it would make my journal inconsistent if I suddenly stopped locking my entries. In short: I need to start over. I need a big girl's blog. I need to... UPGRADE!

I'm slowly but surely upgrading other aspects of my life, too.

In the material world: I'm on the lookout for a new bag (I hate saying purse or pocketbook because it sounds too girly and old-lady-ish) and a real wallet. Though I love my hedgehog and mushroom Yakpak bag and my purple duct tape wallet, they make me look like I'm thirteen-years-old. I'm also in dire need of new shoes, but I'm going to stay away from the Vans and other skater shoes. I've gotta get some more ladylike footwear. Lastly, I'm working on expanding my wardrobe to include more than just tees and jeans. Sure, they're comfy and practical, but they can get rather boring.

In my mental world: I'm trying out a new positive attitude thing. Though I'm a natural worrywart, I'm making an effort to look at the bright side of life. So instead of being nervous about going back to school, getting homesick, being forced into social situations outside my comfort zone, and maintaining my long-distance relationship, I'm getting excited about seeing my buddies, breaking in my brand new notebooks, making new friends, giving the roommate deal another try, living on my own once more, and coming home to go apple picking and corn maze-ing in the fall. I have faith that this year is going to be a great one and that everything will work out for the best.

I'm sure there will be more upgrades to come, but for now I'm just taking baby steps. And, I can't believe I'm saying this, but thank you, Dane Cook, for existing in my itunes library and reminding me to "invest in [my]self, in [my] soul."