Still Meatless

This isn’t going to be funny, because it’s just too painful for me to talk about. For I have gone over two weeks without consuming any meat. And, unbelievably, I am still alive. And I have not taken another’s life. Yet.

To recap, my friends doubted my capacity to go without eating meat. I can understand why, since I am a carnivore of the highest order. But they so ridiculed me when I told them that I could go without meat that I decided to do just that and not eat any meat in March - purely to prove my asshole friends wrong.
And so far, so good. For the most part.

At first, it was very rough. See, as a vegetarian, I have a major strike against me:

I do not like vegetables. At all.

(Note that I will call myself a "vegetarian" even though I am, apparently, a pseudo-pescatarian, which means that I am allowed to eat fish, other seafood, eggs, cheese, etc - everything except meat and fowl.)

A vegetarian breakfast is not a problem. Back when I was a meat-eater, I would usually have cereal or a bagel with cream cheese for breakfast anyway. Rare was the day that I got a bacon-egg-cheese bagel, usually only on hungover weekends (but god do I fucking miss those).

Lunch proved to be more difficult. I used to get a sandwich for lunch with ham or chicken or some other sweet delicious animal. Now, I’ll have an occasional slice of pizza, but mostly I just eat tuna. That’s it. I’ve had tuna for lunch maybe 10 of the past 16 days. My hair is starting to fall out and I’m hallucinating from all the mercury I’m consuming, but hey - at least it ain’t meat!

Dinner is the hardest one, mostly because I just realized that I have not turned my oven on since mid-January. I have used the burners on the stove, but that was only to light some of my arm hair on fire (I LOVE the smell of burning hair).

So I’ve been eating pizza for dinner. Lots and lots of pizza. Occasionally, I’ll order out and get some pasta, but that is rare, too expensive, and takes too long. I can stop on my way home from work and get a slice of plain and a slice of white for $5, so that’s what I’ve been rocking.

Bagels, cereal, tuna, and pizza. That’s it. That’s been my diet for the past two weeks. Well, that and a ton of sweets and desserts, since I have to enjoy myself at least a little in this otherwise miserable time.

But I think I made a breakthrough two nights ago. I bought some "fake" breaded chicken patties (ingredients: bread crumbs, mush, vegetable protein), microwaved them, put them on a roll, covered them in Russian dressing and - and I can’t believe I’m writing this - they were delicious. I mean, DEEEE-licious. I actually bit off part of my ring finger in the feeding frenzy, as I tasted the closest thing I’ve had to meat in weeks (and no, accidentally eating part of your own finger does not mean you’ve broken your vegetarianism; there are rules about self-consumption).

[Author’s Note: I tried to find a fancy word for "eating oneself", since I know the Greek word for eating is φαγο, which is roughly pronounced fag-o, but sadly, no such word exists. Then I tried to make one up, like suiphagis, but that just didn’t look right. Although linguistically it works. But whatever. I’m just trying to impress you. Moving on...]

I realize that the fake chicken might have been so delicious because I hadn’t eaten meat in a while. If you think deeper about it, I just might be a genius in this regard. I started my vegetarianism eating nothing but pizza and tuna, making myself so sick of them that by the time I got some "fake" meat, I thought it was great and am now happy with it. Conversely, if I had started eating fake chicken at the outset of my vegetarianism, with the taste of real (juicy, delicious, once-living) chicken and cow fresh in my mind/mouth, I would have probably thrown it against the wall and started eating the scabs I have all over my arms from my most recent fall down the stairs.

But if two nights ago we had a breakthrough, last night we had a major setback. I won’t get too into detail, but last night for dinner I ate the Burger King Big Fish sandwich, complemented with some onion rings, and topped off with a Hershey Sundae pie. And yes, it was as bad as it sounds.

The reason why you’re getting this post so late is because I’ve spent about half the day on the toilet. Good lord. I know it’s bad when you have blood on the toilet paper, but that doesn’t usually concern me (though I do force myself to stop wiping when there’s more red than brown/black/dark green), but what happens when you see a piece of brain on the toilet paper? Again, I only went to med school for one year, but I’m pretty sure that I left a nice chunk of my cerebellum in the bathroom. Or maybe it was some lung. I really can’t say.

So now, as I write this, I’m ready to head to the nearest steakhouse to get two steaks, put some chicken fingers between them, and eat until my heart stops. When I die, please make sure that my tombstone reads, "Vegetarianism is totally fucking horrible. I mean, what the fuck, right?"

But still, I soldier on. Never doubt my ego, pride, and stubbornness. I intended to remain meat-free until April 1. I know that I will be put to the test this weekend in Queens, where I will not be able to enjoy a taco truck dinner (2 tacos, side of rice and beans and some pico de gallo...I can’t even think about this without starting to shake). Not only that, but the NCAA Tournament starts this weekend, and my hosts have assured me that they have all sorts of animals ready to barbeque. I got a call from my buddy Leo, who I’ll be staying with this weekend:

Leo: "I just read your blog - am I gonna have to buy vegetarian shit for you this weekend? Cause I'm not."
Me: "No, I’ll manage."
Leo: "You’re not seriously going to not eat meat, are you? We have four types of sausage!"
Me: "No, I can’t. Please stop."
Leo: "John, did you hear me? I said we have four types of sausage! And hot dogs, burgers, wings - everything! Why are you doing this?"
Me: "I just want to say that I went a month without meat. That’s all. I don’t have much, but I need this."
Leo: "So what? Lie and say you did it."
Me: "Dude, I can’t lie."
Leo: "Wha - hello? Hello? Who am I talking to? John, you lie all the time! Your whole life is a lie! The first time I met you, you told me you were an orphan!"
Me: "That’s true, but I have to go. I can’t take this."
Leo: "Alright, well, I’m gonna go eat a hot dog. Because I can. Pussy."

So wish me luck. And if I see you in Queens, be gentle with me. I am fragile right now (and not just colonically). Somehow, in someway, this experience will make me a stronger person. Or someone will die. One or the other.