Really.
I mean, it's kind of a turn-off, I guess. But still, everyone I've dated has eaten meat. I just wouldn't let them french me while they were chewing a hamburger or something. It's their choice to eat it. Just like not eating it is my choice. So fuck off.
I know there are so many stereotypical vegetarians and vegans that jump at the chance to lecture you on your immoral ways. They ruin it for the rest of us non-pretentious ones who feel that you are a grown-up and can make your own decisions. I mean, really, is there any stable-minded person over the age of 10 who doesn't realize that there is slaughter involved in the meat they're eating? Maybe not the full extent of the brutality that can be involved, but even so, I've heard so many people go "well, now I never want a hamburger ever again" once they see some PETA propaganda, but that lasts at most a week before they're back at McDonald's. I prefer the people who proudly say "I LOVE EATING DEAD COW!!". At least they're not living in voluntary ignorance. If you're okay with what's involved, then go right ahead. I definitely don't agree with your decision, but I am not going to lecture you. If you say something blatantly false, like "The animals love being killed! It tickles!", then I might be so bold as to say "Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's not the case," but it's nothing I'm eager to pursue.
I've noticed recently that now the meat-eaters are the lecturers. Now it is the carnivores who, once I can no longer avoid saying I don't eat meat, go "You're vegetarian? Why? What are your reasons?" with an obvious excitement, hoping I say a keyword like "cruelty" or "health" so they can launch into their own pro-carnivory shpeel. Usually, regardless of what I say, they jump right in anyway. "WELL DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY FIELD MICE ARE KILLED IN THE HARVESTING OF SOY!??! DID YOU KNOW THAT EXPERIMENTS PROVE PLANTS HAVE FEELINGS TOO?? DON'T YOU KNOW HOW UNNATURAL IT IS NOT TO EAT MEAT?!?!??!?!?!?!?" Sigh. Please, wait for a vegetarian/vegan who will give you a stimulating debate, rather than one who wants to just punch you in the throat outright. "Oh man, this hot dog is soooo good ... man, I love how dead animal tastes. Too bad you're a vegetarian, this is delicious. Mmmm ... nom nom nom." Haha, I get it, you're being funny. Oh wait, I mean an asshole. Did I ever give you a reason to defend yourself? Did I ever make any comment whatsoever? Did I ever convey even an inkling of giving a shit?
No. I did not. I am definitely not "ashamed" of being vegetarian, but at the same time, I don't walk into a room and boast "I do not eat carcass! I challenge all you carnivorous assholes! FEEL GUILTY EATING MEAT IN MY PRESENCE!!" I don't usually even tell people unless they ask why I didn't order a burger, or if I want to come over for steak dinner.
(Which reminds me, thanks to all the people who generously, or even grudgingly, go "well, we can go to a different restaurant" or "maybe we can make pasta or something". Thanks, but that's not necessary. I'll have a salad, or pick around whatever meat there is, or maybe just have a meal of beer, because your company is probably more important than whatever we're eating. Seriously. Not trying to be the pitiful vegetarian in the crowd forced to eat only garnish, I just really don't care. Unless a good percentage of the group doesn't eat meat, then it would be nice if we don't go to Outback.)
So stop going out of your way to be a dick, please. I'm not asking you to feel guilty, just don't be a dick. I don't make a big deal out of it, why should you?
For the zero readers out there who are genuinely curious about my reasons, I will tell you. It started off about 10 years ago mostly with me just not liking the taste of meat anymore. I also preferred animals to, you know, not be murdered and stuff, but I've never been an activist or anything. As time has passed, my choice has been reinforced by the knowledge of all the shit they put in meat and the ways most animals are raised and slaughtered. And eating dead bodies is just not appealing to me. Recently I've been curious about remembering what certain meats taste like, and had bites here and there, but it's about as unappealing as I remember (except for that home-smoked salmon, that was pretty good). The end.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Thursday, April 8, 2010
cat interactions with dreams 00:10
Last night I had a dream where I had to commit suicide, and so did my mom. I think maybe I had to kill her but she decided to do it herself to spare me from murdering my own mother, or something. It was pretty bleak. I said she could write a letter to Dad for him to read when he got back from work, letting him know what happened. I told her to be sure to mention it was my fault. My mom was turned away from me the entire dream, so I couldn't see her face, but I could feel the immense disappointment and sadness from her, with a faint mix of tragically unconditional love. The disappointment came across the strongest, and I felt very small, like a child again, and trapped behind a wall of cold glass.
I don't exactly remember the next thing, but my mind started wandering to cats, and I was in an animal shelter adopting a neon green cat wearing a monocle. Then I guess I went "Oh yeah, back to killing myself" and I plunged back into the previous heavy atmosphere. I cleaved my rib cage in two, but didn't start dying until I pulled the blade out. The absence of any pain was what scared me most, as I could see blood bursting from my chest Kill-Bill-style, spurting with each heartbeat. Other sensation and perception faded until all I could feel was my heart beat. I could really feel it, beyond the dream, and it terrified me more than any pain could have. I drifted into death, which was really wake-land.
Priya was sitting next to me, using her front paws to aggressively knead my chest right above my heart. Providing the special effects for my dream, I guess. "Really feel it" indeed.
It reminded me of a childhood dream I had involving the X-Files and Gillian Anderson in my basement and impostor David Duchovnys. At the end, I was in my hallway having a karate fight with the impostor David Duchovny ("You're not the real David Duchovny!" I said to him accusingly, which I apparently actually said out loud in reality too), but after the first couple strikes, it quickly devolved into a girlish-style slapfight. I woke having a slapfight with my cat BJ, who was understandably pissed that I was striking him. (And probably pissed that I named him "BJ". I would be too.)
Another cat-dream interaction, of a different kind: Nothing wakes me up faster than the sound of a cat beginning to hurl (*hrk-hrk-hrk-hrk-hrk*). I am literally up and moving the cat onto a non-carpeted surface before I've even woken up, or finished processing that I even heard the sound. I will thank my cat Claude for that, who spent his last elderly years pretty much exclusively in my bedroom and had a lot of hairball problems. It would've been nice if he had timed his vomiting to when I needed to wake in the morning. I miss you, Claude, even though you peed on my Playstation 2 and I'm convinced that's why the AV output plug is so touchy.
I don't exactly remember the next thing, but my mind started wandering to cats, and I was in an animal shelter adopting a neon green cat wearing a monocle. Then I guess I went "Oh yeah, back to killing myself" and I plunged back into the previous heavy atmosphere. I cleaved my rib cage in two, but didn't start dying until I pulled the blade out. The absence of any pain was what scared me most, as I could see blood bursting from my chest Kill-Bill-style, spurting with each heartbeat. Other sensation and perception faded until all I could feel was my heart beat. I could really feel it, beyond the dream, and it terrified me more than any pain could have. I drifted into death, which was really wake-land.
Priya was sitting next to me, using her front paws to aggressively knead my chest right above my heart. Providing the special effects for my dream, I guess. "Really feel it" indeed.
It reminded me of a childhood dream I had involving the X-Files and Gillian Anderson in my basement and impostor David Duchovnys. At the end, I was in my hallway having a karate fight with the impostor David Duchovny ("You're not the real David Duchovny!" I said to him accusingly, which I apparently actually said out loud in reality too), but after the first couple strikes, it quickly devolved into a girlish-style slapfight. I woke having a slapfight with my cat BJ, who was understandably pissed that I was striking him. (And probably pissed that I named him "BJ". I would be too.)
Another cat-dream interaction, of a different kind: Nothing wakes me up faster than the sound of a cat beginning to hurl (*hrk-hrk-hrk-hrk-hrk*). I am literally up and moving the cat onto a non-carpeted surface before I've even woken up, or finished processing that I even heard the sound. I will thank my cat Claude for that, who spent his last elderly years pretty much exclusively in my bedroom and had a lot of hairball problems. It would've been nice if he had timed his vomiting to when I needed to wake in the morning. I miss you, Claude, even though you peed on my Playstation 2 and I'm convinced that's why the AV output plug is so touchy.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
"Fuck The Drug War": An example of the guys I attract. 23:13
I've met a lot of unique people since I moved to Seattle. Mostly creepy people, or people who start off kind of endearing and then are creepy later. Last month at a bar I met someone named Fuck. (Middle name: "The Drug", last: "War". Considering changing to "Fuck Religion".) He had some interesting facial tattoos, one of them being a naked man above his eyebrow with some sort of profound quote next to it about facing the wind or something. "Ladies are usually pissed when they meet me because they realize they've been screaming my name during sex for years!" That scared away most of the group surrounding me. I ended up talking to him because, well, most others had left, and the one friend I was with was deep in a group of people I couldn't weasel myself into. I thought he actually knew people there, but it turns out he just knew one guy who he met on YouTube, and that guy had left.
Once he saw that I didn't really give a shit about his shock tactics, he proceeded to hit on me aggressively and almost bought me a drink except that it coincided with me getting the fuck away from him. Just before I had decided to bail and after he made his offer, I asked him bluntly "Well, how much are you willing to spend?" with a straight, unfriendly face, hoping it might either dissuade him or win me an expensive drink. "Well look at you!" He squealed, using the opportunity to caress me somehow. "Whatever you want!" I decided the drink wasn't worth it.
One of the conversation topics he introduced out of the blue: "Are you related to anyone who has died recently or has some sort of severe disability?" Another winning quote: "You're vegetarian? That's cool. I'm vegan, except that I eat meat and cheese and eggs and other animal products. But I still feel like I identify most with the vegan mentality." He also had communion wafers in his pocket that he had stolen somehow. Classy.
One of my favorite parts: He sucked down the last of his drink. "Ew, that tasted bad. I need to get the taste out of my mouth." He looked at me for a moment, then started to lunge forward. At the first sign of movement towards me, I blurted out "Eat a cupcake!!" (There were cupcakes there). He reached for one, then paused, looked back at me and seductively said "I don't want a cupcake." I got up and paid for my drinks.
I have learned that the best thing to do in these situations is just leave, because I attract the winners who don't understand what "no" means. Even after the 7th time. Even after "Look, I am NOT attracted to you that way, and never will be. There will be no chance with me, ever. EVER." Even if I proceed suck on the face of another guy right in front of him. There will still be unwanted touching and attempted kissing, as if I'll suddenly change my mind. Maybe, despite my deliberate statements and actions saying "no", which these days are beginning to border on insulting to them, I still somehow seem to convey a "tee hee, maybe" or an "It's opposite day!". I don't know.
(Not that I attract guys all the time, but the infrequent and few that pursue me are fucking psychosauruses.)
I'm considering violence next. I wish I hadn't lost my pepper spray.
Once he saw that I didn't really give a shit about his shock tactics, he proceeded to hit on me aggressively and almost bought me a drink except that it coincided with me getting the fuck away from him. Just before I had decided to bail and after he made his offer, I asked him bluntly "Well, how much are you willing to spend?" with a straight, unfriendly face, hoping it might either dissuade him or win me an expensive drink. "Well look at you!" He squealed, using the opportunity to caress me somehow. "Whatever you want!" I decided the drink wasn't worth it.
One of the conversation topics he introduced out of the blue: "Are you related to anyone who has died recently or has some sort of severe disability?" Another winning quote: "You're vegetarian? That's cool. I'm vegan, except that I eat meat and cheese and eggs and other animal products. But I still feel like I identify most with the vegan mentality." He also had communion wafers in his pocket that he had stolen somehow. Classy.
One of my favorite parts: He sucked down the last of his drink. "Ew, that tasted bad. I need to get the taste out of my mouth." He looked at me for a moment, then started to lunge forward. At the first sign of movement towards me, I blurted out "Eat a cupcake!!" (There were cupcakes there). He reached for one, then paused, looked back at me and seductively said "I don't want a cupcake." I got up and paid for my drinks.
I have learned that the best thing to do in these situations is just leave, because I attract the winners who don't understand what "no" means. Even after the 7th time. Even after "Look, I am NOT attracted to you that way, and never will be. There will be no chance with me, ever. EVER." Even if I proceed suck on the face of another guy right in front of him. There will still be unwanted touching and attempted kissing, as if I'll suddenly change my mind. Maybe, despite my deliberate statements and actions saying "no", which these days are beginning to border on insulting to them, I still somehow seem to convey a "tee hee, maybe" or an "It's opposite day!". I don't know.
(Not that I attract guys all the time, but the infrequent and few that pursue me are fucking psychosauruses.)
I'm considering violence next. I wish I hadn't lost my pepper spray.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Going well enough 21:39
Getting ready for school in the morning is easy when all you need to do is yank on the same ol' scrubs and drink whatever coffee is left in the pot from the night before. Waking up at 6:45 is the hardest part. It's not entirely difficult to go to bed at a reasonable hour, but unfortunately, Maverick sleeps in my sock bin all day and spends the nights trying to see how much stuff he can rearrange or knock over, preferably things filled with liquid or something messy that can fall onto me while I sleep. Come 3 am, Priya wakes up too, and the two of them race laps around the room and bounce off the furniture, using my body as the start/finish line. In the morning I find that Mav has gone through my bra and underwear drawers and removed everything, as well as tangled together all the prisms hanging above my window.
They're experiencing a bit of drama with the dog we live with, since they value their personal bubbles, and the dog likes to play almost as much as it likes to eat their shit out of the litter box. If my door is open, the dog is in the doorway, eyes wide and eager, quivering in the hope that the cats will make any movement that can be conceived as playful. Only in the past week have they begun to leave the bedroom without me out there luring them.
Since my free time hasn't really been filled with much studying yet (no need so far), I have filled it with Law & Order: SVU instead. Upon moving and being forced to abruptly cut off my TiVo Law & Order marathons, I thought I would continue watching it a bit on my laptop. Of course, "a bit" turned into a minimum of 6 hours of SVU every day, and I gradually worked my way back through the whole series. When I finished, I started reading books a little, but decided to purchase another Harvest Moon game and play that too much instead. Why actually go outside when I can go outside in a video game? Speaking of which, I am actually half-playing it while writing this, and I would rather be full-playing it, so ta-ta.
They're experiencing a bit of drama with the dog we live with, since they value their personal bubbles, and the dog likes to play almost as much as it likes to eat their shit out of the litter box. If my door is open, the dog is in the doorway, eyes wide and eager, quivering in the hope that the cats will make any movement that can be conceived as playful. Only in the past week have they begun to leave the bedroom without me out there luring them.
Since my free time hasn't really been filled with much studying yet (no need so far), I have filled it with Law & Order: SVU instead. Upon moving and being forced to abruptly cut off my TiVo Law & Order marathons, I thought I would continue watching it a bit on my laptop. Of course, "a bit" turned into a minimum of 6 hours of SVU every day, and I gradually worked my way back through the whole series. When I finished, I started reading books a little, but decided to purchase another Harvest Moon game and play that too much instead. Why actually go outside when I can go outside in a video game? Speaking of which, I am actually half-playing it while writing this, and I would rather be full-playing it, so ta-ta.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Relocation 15:46
I moved to Seattle. (XEATTLE!!)
I forgot my underwear.
I should be getting a big box o' undies in the mail tomorrow. Yay.
It is evident that Seattle is going to take all my money and make me a fat, caffeinated alcoholic with strange sleep patterns. Not much of a change, really, except for an increase in intensity.
Well, at least until vet tech school starts in a couple weeks. I don't exactly know what to expect, but Admissions said I probably wouldn't have time for a job, so I am expecting to be busy. It'll be a refreshing change from sitting at my parents' house with the TiVo, watching bizarre Discovery Health Channel programs and 10 hours of Law & Order every day. "10:30pm, time to get into my PJs - oh wait, I've been wearing them for the past week. I guess I'll watch more Law & Order then, or maybe 'Born Without A Face'. Either that or I'll finally get dressed and go to the bar." Well, away with that! No longer! ...We don't have TiVo here. Or any channels, actually. Looks like it's to the bars, then, and there are at least 3 within a 30 second's walk.
My new bedroom is approximately the size of the closet of my last bedroom in Olympia - no exaggeration - but that last bedroom was ridiculously massive. So I'm not complaining, it's just an amusing observation to me. My only complaint is that I don't have room for my keyboard, so I will really miss playing piano. I suppose I would have space for it if I'd opted for a bed that didn't take up half of my bedroom, but my bed is where I spend up to 80% of my day, so I ain't fuckin' around thar. Speaking of which, I've had a hard day of eating and reading comic books, so it's time for a nap.
I forgot my underwear.
I should be getting a big box o' undies in the mail tomorrow. Yay.
It is evident that Seattle is going to take all my money and make me a fat, caffeinated alcoholic with strange sleep patterns. Not much of a change, really, except for an increase in intensity.
Well, at least until vet tech school starts in a couple weeks. I don't exactly know what to expect, but Admissions said I probably wouldn't have time for a job, so I am expecting to be busy. It'll be a refreshing change from sitting at my parents' house with the TiVo, watching bizarre Discovery Health Channel programs and 10 hours of Law & Order every day. "10:30pm, time to get into my PJs - oh wait, I've been wearing them for the past week. I guess I'll watch more Law & Order then, or maybe 'Born Without A Face'. Either that or I'll finally get dressed and go to the bar." Well, away with that! No longer! ...We don't have TiVo here. Or any channels, actually. Looks like it's to the bars, then, and there are at least 3 within a 30 second's walk.
My new bedroom is approximately the size of the closet of my last bedroom in Olympia - no exaggeration - but that last bedroom was ridiculously massive. So I'm not complaining, it's just an amusing observation to me. My only complaint is that I don't have room for my keyboard, so I will really miss playing piano. I suppose I would have space for it if I'd opted for a bed that didn't take up half of my bedroom, but my bed is where I spend up to 80% of my day, so I ain't fuckin' around thar. Speaking of which, I've had a hard day of eating and reading comic books, so it's time for a nap.
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Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Birds and the weather 13:44
I finally moved in the birds together a couple weeks ago. At first, Piccolo sort of stalked him, persistently trying to preen him, and he would peck her away. But quite suddenly, a couple days later, they were preening each other and snuggling up together on perches, and the following day they were trying to figure out how to have sex. Oh, the swiftness and excitement of new love! They are both too young to breed, and I wouldn't want them to anyway, but I am not too concerned yet because they can't seem to figure out what to do. Piccolo sort of presents herself while Simon makes the most charming burbles and shuffles around her confusedly. Sometimes he'll jump on her back and just stand there, making puzzled chatters while unsure of what to do next, then steps off. Yeah, the first time can be awkward.
Also, it's flippin' freezing outside. Yes, I am talking about the weather, which is always fascinating (and I may be desperate for something else to put in this entry so that it's not all about bird sex). But the sky is clear and the sun blinding, and when I am inside sharing a sunbeam with the cats, I think "gosh, it's beautiful, I should go out and smoke hookah and read". After about 15 minutes, my fingers are numbly swiping at the book attempting to turn the page, and I am glaring at one of the cats sleeping blissfully next to me, jealous of his fur. Fortunately, the fictional (post-)apocalyptic scenario and/or non-fiction warning of one that I am most likely reading about distracts me enough to finish the hookah session, because I'll be damned if I am going to waste any good shisha.
Also, it's flippin' freezing outside. Yes, I am talking about the weather, which is always fascinating (and I may be desperate for something else to put in this entry so that it's not all about bird sex). But the sky is clear and the sun blinding, and when I am inside sharing a sunbeam with the cats, I think "gosh, it's beautiful, I should go out and smoke hookah and read". After about 15 minutes, my fingers are numbly swiping at the book attempting to turn the page, and I am glaring at one of the cats sleeping blissfully next to me, jealous of his fur. Fortunately, the fictional (post-)apocalyptic scenario and/or non-fiction warning of one that I am most likely reading about distracts me enough to finish the hookah session, because I'll be damned if I am going to waste any good shisha.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
destiny is annoying 11:06
Tuesday started well enough when I was awoken early by a loud "OOTEENI". I'd forgotten that the night before at 4am, as I struggled to sleep, I decided to change my text message alert to the Jawa sound. It was louder than I remembered, and also not nearly as amusing.
The text was from a number I didn't recognize. It read: "We are nocking."
Being half-asleep, my first impression was that it was a creepy message. Then, because neither of the doorbells work, I found it entirely possible that someone was in fact knocking on one of the doors. Who would have my address and visit at 8am, and also have my phone number while I didn't have theirs, I didn't know, and was not enthused about knowing. I was sure that after I greeted them with my morning hair and squinty-grumpy-sleep-face and a "what the fuck", they would no longer want to know me as well. I stumbled downstairs, still half-asleep, and checked both doors. No one was there. I wasted no time in returning to bed, but being curious, asked "Er ... who is this?"
The reply came a moment later: "Destiny".
Ha-ha. I didn't know if it was actually someone named Destiny, or if it was some text-message advertisement playing on the whole "destiny's knocking" thing ("destiny's knocking...MAKE MILLIONS FROM HOME TODAY!!"), or if it was actually ... destiny. I was intrigued by the latter, because it's about fucking time it got in contact with me. However, considering I don't believe in it, and if I did I don't see why it would be a plural thing ("we"), and also I'm pretty sure it would know that "knocking" is spelled with a "k" in front, I texted back and suggested they had incorrect digits. Destiny apologized.
So I could've totally dismissed destiny almost immediately after waking this morning. In fact, later on that day, destiny texted again, asking "Are u there", and I had to explicitly state again, repeatedly, that it had the wrong digits. Apparently destiny isn't the sharpest concept, and was within one text message of being told to fuck off before it finally understood. Good grief. Destiny finally decides to play some cards in my life, and it's fucking annoying as hell. Makes sense. It's probably a little low on the self-esteem from being overshadowed by fate, which has a subtly different but more serious position.
The text was from a number I didn't recognize. It read: "We are nocking."
Being half-asleep, my first impression was that it was a creepy message. Then, because neither of the doorbells work, I found it entirely possible that someone was in fact knocking on one of the doors. Who would have my address and visit at 8am, and also have my phone number while I didn't have theirs, I didn't know, and was not enthused about knowing. I was sure that after I greeted them with my morning hair and squinty-grumpy-sleep-face and a "what the fuck", they would no longer want to know me as well. I stumbled downstairs, still half-asleep, and checked both doors. No one was there. I wasted no time in returning to bed, but being curious, asked "Er ... who is this?"
The reply came a moment later: "Destiny".
Ha-ha. I didn't know if it was actually someone named Destiny, or if it was some text-message advertisement playing on the whole "destiny's knocking" thing ("destiny's knocking...MAKE MILLIONS FROM HOME TODAY!!"), or if it was actually ... destiny. I was intrigued by the latter, because it's about fucking time it got in contact with me. However, considering I don't believe in it, and if I did I don't see why it would be a plural thing ("we"), and also I'm pretty sure it would know that "knocking" is spelled with a "k" in front, I texted back and suggested they had incorrect digits. Destiny apologized.
So I could've totally dismissed destiny almost immediately after waking this morning. In fact, later on that day, destiny texted again, asking "Are u there", and I had to explicitly state again, repeatedly, that it had the wrong digits. Apparently destiny isn't the sharpest concept, and was within one text message of being told to fuck off before it finally understood. Good grief. Destiny finally decides to play some cards in my life, and it's fucking annoying as hell. Makes sense. It's probably a little low on the self-esteem from being overshadowed by fate, which has a subtly different but more serious position.
