Twelve years ago I went to India on a sort of college travel abroad thing. We were gone for sixteen days. About a month after coming back I went vegetarian and then pierced my nose. I think if you plop a bunch of young adults (late teens, early twenties) from the States into one of the poorest parts of a third-world country, then fly them back and land them in L.A. on Christmas Eve, weird stuff is bound to happen.
My grandpa found it pretty amusing. "You know, you can eat the cows here," he'd said to me.
It wasn't too difficult giving up meat. There's no meat in chocolate, dorritos or cheese pizza. Let's just say that in the following two years, I made up for not gaining the freshman fifteen.
I must credit Matt for bringing me back over to the meat side. I also must credit full time graduate school with a two hour commute and working on the weekends for dropping the excess cushion that my dear family lovingly refers to as my 'fat time'.
Matt was convinced that turkey that I ate only on Thanksgiving was the 'gate-way' meat. I laughed at him, but it turns out he was right.
Giving up grains and diet coke is going to be a bit more challenging. If I want ketchup in six days, I'll have to make my own. Same with bbq sauce. Yesterday I had my first Diet Coke with lunch (some sort of record I think) and one with dinner. No headaches. Lots of tea.
The last sunrise of 2012. Mt. Hood is in the center.

