things vegetarians love to hear

About a month ago, I decided to go vegetarian. I'm even almost-vegan, because drinking cow's milk has never really been something that made sense to me, and recently I started thinking about what you're eating when you're eating an egg and bleeeegh. I tried veggie-ism when I was in college but was not in the right mindset. I had that whole meat-brainwashed (brain-meatwashed?) thing going on, and giving up meat was a struggle. Fast-forward about 5 or 6 years and I started listening more to my body - I very seldomly ate red meat because of the havoc it wreaked on my intestines, so the hubs and I mostly ate chicken, pork, and fish. About the fish - when I was younger my parents took me to San Fransisco and I, having a sensitive sense of smell, barfed from one end of Fisherman's Wharf to another. It wasn't until I was 20 and working as a waitress for an amazing chef at a pub in London that I started liking more than fish & chips. So I guess I'm not totally vegan because I cannot, allergy-wise, do without local honey, and I'm so in love with fish right now I'd be pissed if I gave it up.

People have some very strong opinions regarding vegetarianism. I've also come to notice that American notions of "health" are completely jacked up. If you ever meet a vegetarian, never EVER ask, "So...how do you get your protein?" unless you want to get punched in the junk. I get this question just about as much as I get, "So....what exactly IS a music therapist, anyway?" The good news is that *gasp!* meat is not the only place to get protein. I mean, really. I don't want to be one of those vegetarians on a crusade to get everyone to give up meat. All I know is that it works for me and if you ask me why I'm going to tell you, but PLEASE don't ask for the sake of arguing.

blah

the MRI results came back and I have tendonitis in my right wrist.

I'll see a hand specialist in January. 'til then it's hand brace and anti-inflammatories for me!

I'm really bummed about this.

Pyrrhus at the top of the world

I went to the Ghost Bar the other night and it was...interesting. Here are some thoughts.

You.
Over there with the sunglasses on.
What is so bright that you're wearing those in here?
Tonight?
Is it the dazzling madness swirling around you?
The expensive drinks?
Maybe you're afraid of heights.
Or maybe you're famous.
In this place, anything is possible.

The bachelorette by the elevators,
struggling to get her footing as the world swirls madly around her.
The skinny girls and the fake lips and the
men with the important looks and important suits
with their girls who have equally important not-much-on
to go with their high heels
and their money and their drinks.

What are you looking for with those glasses on?
I can see the city stretch out before us and
still feel a void stretch out from all of us in here,
bouncing off the floor-to-ceiling windows
back to us to squeeze the life from us.

Can I borrow your sunglasses?
All I can see through the haze and the pulsing lights
is desperation.

Can't Stop.

I've journaled since I could write, hence my insane collection of journals. Some I wish I could burn, those memoirs of pre-adolescence filled with such deep musings as, "I really like so-and-so and he totally glanced at me in the hallway today." I blogged a bit in college and have had a love-hate relationship with these things because certain individuals in my life at the time would take my written words, analyze them, then spit them back out to me as if all that encompassed me was those words. So, to whoever's reading this at the moment, know that I write completely for myself and it's probably not about you.

And if you're wondering what happened to "festina tarde," though I enjoy the concept, my husband was quick to point out that it sounded like "festering turd." Mellifluous is my favorite word anyway ;)

I blog because I cannot NOT write. Sometimes it's decent, sometimes it's really really mundane. But, I'm in the middle of working on my thesis and I think that writing for the sake of writing is good to clear one's mind and maybe some creativity will come out of it. Mostly, I just have so many words in my head that they often get in the way of everything else. Also, as a student therapist I'm required to write down a lot of things for a lot of different professors, supervisors, etc. and it's nice to write for me once in awhile. It's brain candy in the way that The Devil Wears Prada was to my insatiable reading appetite.

So anyway. I'm blogging again. Hooray.