Slippery Slope

It would seem that I am a fair-weather vegetarian. After a few slipups and resolutions to keep myself in line, I had meat on Thursday and I felt as though I was beginning a slow slide down a slippery slope. The Thursday in question, my friend Corin offered to make me salad and I, never one to turn down a free meal, agreed; but, when I got there, the salad had chicken in it. Not just any run of the mill chicken, it was moist and delicious and I had a(nother) weak moment, and I ate the damn salad. It was harmless enough, I thought, but then today I woke up hung over, a Saturday ritual, and all I wanted was a steak or wings or bacon, anything meaty would have done just fine. So to appease my hunger and prevent another slip, I ate everything in sight, other than meat; and, nothing. All day I felt hungry. I had a huge salad, a plate of pasta and several snacks and I was STILL hungry; ravenous by the time dinner rolled around.

My grandmother was having the family over for dinner this evening, and she graciously accommodated my new lifestyle choice and made me fish; but, she also had wings and potato skins with bacon, like what the f*#k. So needless to say, I slipped. I didn't just slip, I ate, what felt like, a million wings, 3 potato skins and my pride. Once I started I could not stop.

I mean, I, typically, don't work out on weekends, because I am usually hung over and I think having the expectation of myself and then not following through, only makes for disappointments; so perhaps I should take that approach with eating meat; because it would seem that being hung over, renders my resolve to not eat meat, absolutely useless. So maybe my new approach should be, no meat in the week and whatever happens on the weekend is out of my hands. Yes! I like the way that sounds.

I was telling my friend Corin, the chicken salad girl, that I had slipped again and I was lamenting that I was a lackadaisical vegetarian, to which she replied "those are the best kind!"
I like the way she thinks.

Slip ups and Hiccups cont.

I broke again. I had meat. I was super hungover from Saturday night's antics and I broke. Chris' coworker makes tortiere and she gave him one; he made the whole pie and the smell was so overwhelming, I could not help myself. What can I say, my resolve to not eat meat was very very weak, due to my state. I had a monstrous salad for lupper(lunch and supper), and some quinoa for breakfast; but, the only thing my body wanted was meat. I had the smallest sliver of tortiere and feel horrible about it and made Chris promise not to tell anyone. But I've dusted off my shoulders, spilled the beans, repented and I am back on the wagon. This time I spared myself the scare tactics, I was in enough pain.

I ran

I recently accepted the fact that I am growing up; and, I figured since I am getting serious about my life, I should get serious about my health. I am well on my way, I've already made changes to my diet; and today I ran. I also ran a few days ago; but, I didn't want to say anything until I was sure that I was going to do it again. Today I did. It was hell. Last week’s run was full of hills, 3 to be exact; and, today's run was long, miles long. I cursed many times, but I finished. I'm told that I should feel a "runners high", which must be a euphemism for sick, because I could barely keep my dinner down. I personally don't push myself that hard, but I have been running with my best friend Chris, who is a man machine; he has recently lost tons of weight and knows what it takes to get results, which why I enlisted his help. To give you an idea of his machine-ness, he runs to my house, we run and then he runs home. I mean, wow. He is the perfect person to kick my ass and he is. Despite wanting to cry and quit halfway through, once I get home, sit and get bearings back, I feel great, accomplished even. So even though I want to cry, puke and quit, I think I'm going to run again. And then probably again after that.

(wo)Man up

Growing up is a bitch. It's not my opinion, it's fact. I realize that all the struggles are just a part of the process. Otherwise, what the hell for? Submitting to the process is the pain of this growing up thing, isnt't it? Granted, I can be very hard on myself, especially when it comes to success; I tend to be very high strung and rather impatient when it comes the future I have planned. And patience is a virtue that I have yet to master. Growing up is a slow process, they say, but I feel like it's all happening so fast yet not fast enough. So far my 20's have been wrought with anxiety, uncertainty and failure; my fingers are still crossed for success. I have been told on a number of occasions to relax and just keep doing what I am doing (gotta love grandparents), but it's difficult when I feel like I have no idea what I am doing or where all this work is going to lead; but who does? I realize that lately I have been heavily focused on the negative, especially on here; and, looking back at my previous posts, 1 saying comes to mind, MAN UP. I need to (wo)man up and grow up. Although growing up is extremely uncomfortable, it's happening.

If I can give up meat, I can, most certainly, grow up.

New

It occurred to me, this morning, that I am still very new at my job. Well, it didn’t occur to me, so much as it smoked me in the face, in the form of an asinine mistake. I fucking hate being new, hate it. Just to give you some back story; I sell ads for a magazine, and I will freely admit, that I have never been a great sales person. But, it’s for a food magazine and I want to write…it makes sense. A foot in the door if you will. My first hurdle was learning how to sell, which I am slowly getting a grip on; but, goddamn it, it’s not happening fast enough. I keep making mistakes and mistakes make me feel and look like a fool. Christ, I am also still new at this writing thing too. I just want, so badly, to be great. I know that things take time; but, for heaven’s sake, I am 24 and I am not getting any younger. I’m just tired of being new at things, it is the most uncomfortable feeling there is. The feeling of not knowing what hell I am doing, it's keeping me awake at night. I have been “new” all bloody year. All those stupid job changes over the past 12 months has made for a perma-newness that I simply abhor. It is as if I enjoy torturing myself, I’m a masochist. I must be. For fuck sakes, this tunnel is still so dark. Where's the light??

I’m broke, I’m stressed, I’m new and I want nothing more than to devour a steak.

Fuck.

Shock Therapy

After my slip up yesterday, I decided it was time for some shock therapy. If this is going to be a success, I need to be drastic. This morning, I spent an hour forcing myself to watch those horrible PETA style videos. Even made myself cry. Oh yes, I am serious about this. So I watched, shed a tear and recommitted to this challenge. I also decided that I am going to adopt pescatarianism as a semi permanent thing. My new goal is 6 months. 6 months of no meat, is a daunting thought, especially for an admitted carnivore such as myself; but, the shock therapy worked better than I had anticipated. I have yet to go do a full on "I'm a veggie now" grocery shop, but I am confident that once I do that, things will get easier and I won't have to be so hardcore and resort to scare tactics. But I will say this, and don't think that I am trying to employ hypocrisy; but, I will eat meat, under very strict guidelines. It must be local, organic and sustainably raised and it must be bought directly from the farmer, I want to meet the man (or woman) who raised this animal from infancy and look into their eyes; I want to put a face to my meat, if you know what I mean. I think that is fair, it's the least I could do.

1 (and a half) week(s) to eat

I broke. I ate meat. I was prepping for a catering job and beef stew was on the menu. I had to try it. It was delicious and for a moment I thought, "what the hell am I doing, I love meat, I am never giving it up", then I swallowed the bite and collected my thoughts, just a small moment of weakness. The way I see it, people deserve little slip ups, how many smokers have you seen with the patch?? Anyways, I made up for it after and had a salad with fish. I feel light again. Tomorrow is a new day, one without meat and perhaps with a workout!

Realness. Revisited.

To say that this past weekend was unreal, would be a gross understatement. It has been about 2 and a half weeks since I decided it was time to grow the f*@k up. But this past weekend the old Bianca came out to play. My friends and I had planned to go to Vancouver to see our dj idol, Boys Noize, play a show. The trip was months in the making, but due to recent events my trip was up in the air. But against my better judgement, I decided to go anyways, brokes or not. I commited to myself to do it on the cheap and it was off to a great start; I made a trail mix to quell my hunger and lower my food requirements (good for the waistline and the pocketbook!), I took public transit from the airport and the hotel was down the street from the bar. The perfect recipe for a cost conscious trip. Upon my arrival, we went for lunch, but I kept it real and had soup and water. Confidence was high! Then the vintage shopping happened and sadly I succumbed to weakness' of the flesh. If there is one thing that I cannot control, it is my love of vintage shopping; and, that folks is where the shit hit the fan. $60 later (I know, I know), I had to get out of there, but the damage had been done. From that point, the realness was out the door and old Bianca was back and she was wreaking havoc. We went to dinner, bought copious amounts of booze and god knows what else. My plan was to come home with some extra cash, as that would be the responsible (real) thing to do. After the Vitamin Water at the airport, the total that I returned with was a whopping...wait for it...$3.68. $3.68!!!!! WTF. So I am back to square one, or rather square 3.68. I feel it necessary to reiterate, that I have a major spending problem, I love to do it and apparently no matter how hard I plan to stay on track, I cannot. The icing on this unreal cake is, I had to borrow $30 from my mom to get me to my next payday. I am a prize piece.


The sad thing is that I don't regret the trip at all. That perhaps is the most problematic part of this whole thing.

Give me a few more days of reality and I am sure the remorse will set in...

1 week to eat

I have made a descision. I am giving up meat. Well, just for a week, as sort of a challenge; and, to see if I can hack it. I am starting to develop this nagging feeling in my gut, that I cannot seem to shake. Meat fabrication is ever so mean and I love animals; I certainly don't want to be one of those people who talks about how much they love animals and then eats meat, the mean kind. The million chickens in a coup, baby cows not being able to move around for the sake of tender veal kind of mean. As much as I would love to eat free range, sustainable meat, I cannot (re:b-r-o-k-e); so the only other option here and as hard as it will be, I must give up meat. This new food chapter will come as a surprise to anyone who knows me, as I love chicken, LOVE IT, when I was 18 I wanted to start a website called Chicken.com. And let's not forget the red stuff; on a hungover morning I have been known to cry out for meat, I love it red and dirty. And as awkward as I am making this, I simply want to detail to you how much I love meat. But what must be done, must be done. So for the next week, I will bid adieu to this wonderfully delicious relationship, in fine fashion; I'm having everything, chicken kiev, steak tartar, lamb chops, bacon, if it's from an animal, I am eating it...gross I know. But necessary. I am sure after the initial aftermath of this breakup, I will look and feel, as good as I (deep down) know this descision is. After all, it's only a week.