Vegetarian For A Month: Day 1

Today marks the first of 31 days, during which I will try my very best, not to consume any meat. For anyone who knows me at all, this will come as a shock of the same magnitude as Michael Jackson’s autopsy report which states clearly that he was in fact human.

As friends, family, co-workers, and others hear of this month-long experiment, there will be questions;

“Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“Who made you do this?”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Do you need to talk to someone about a problem in your life?”

Perhaps the second toughest part of this experiment will be fielding these questions and not becoming overly frustrated with those asking them. First, I will put what I anticipate to be the most frequently asked question to rest:

No, my girlfriend did not make me do this!

Though she is completely supportive, and quite helpful with ways to make sure I get enough protein and nutrients during my vacation from flesh, she has in no way imposed this upon me. However, something she recently did indeed played a role in inspiring this idea. Though she has lived most of the last ten years as a vegetarian, she recently began eating meat for what I see as a completely selfless reason. In anticipation of our recent trip to Australia, she decided to train her body to process meat so that she could, “try everything in Australia, and not be a pain in the ass about finding food she could eat.” Though nobody would have viewed her as a pain-in-the-ass if she hadn’t been eating meat, I thought it was a nice gesture (although she doesn’t fool me. I had seen her eyeing my steaks for months and I know she just couldn’t take it anymore.)

So, as she made the decision to cross over to my carnivorous world temporarily, so shall I TEMPORARILY cross over to her herbivorous world as well. I plan to keep all three of you blog followers updated every few days throughout this experiment, and hopefully it will keep me on track and on the wagon (not the meat wagon).

Tonight, when I tell my roommate (who somewhat depends on me to cook his meat-filled dinners) of this plan, I anticipate a tantrum similar to the one seen here.