After one week and countless obstacles to evade (my brother waving bacon in my face, watching my friends chow down on Fletcher's hamburgers and resisting the call of Philly Cheasesteak Lean Pockets from my freezer), I have managed to completely abstain from meat. Don't worry, I'll pat myself on the back.
Today my boss, after informing him that I had jumped on the vegetarian bandwagon, asked me if I'm doing okay. To which I replied: "uh yeah, it's not like I stopped eating."
The feedback for vegetarians is predictably non-diverse. When you tell people that you don't eat meat they typically reply with one of two responses:
1) Dude, you're off your f*ing rocker.
or
2) That's so eco-friendly of you!
At this point I'm deciding whether or not either of these comments motivates me or discourages me. One would think that both would encourage. Undoubtedly, the first fuels a "me against the world" flame that can't be extinguished. However, the latter has done more harm than good for my vegetarian mindset.
Sure I am happy to be playing my part in a sustainable world, but it'd be easier to feel good about it if I didn't have to hear the eye-roll inducing chirping of the granola mountain earth brigade every time I motion for a pile of carrots. An example of this would be my good friend and anarchist, we'll call him Roger Thor, suggesting that I start eating lentils because they're "a magical little bean," or whatever.
My point here is, that in order for vegetarianism to become more ingrained in United States culture, there need to be more iconic role models to follow. American youth don't look to Natalie Portman to craft their consumption habits after, certainly not while Donovan McNabb is pumping Cambell's Chunky Soup.
Average citizens may be more inclined to reduce their carbon footprint through their diet if we had more appealing (less annoying) spokespersons for the vegetarian lifestyle (if you can call it that). At this point, I'm not sure who to suggest. But if they don't wear a bandana or any article of hemp clothing, they'll have a better chance at being effective.
I'll tell you what though, as long as Chipotle's cilantro lime rice, guacamole and plethora of salsas are fresh and tasty, their chicken is nothing more than an afterthought to me.
Peace and love,
TT
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Day 2, The Vegetarian Voyage --- This is going to be harder than I thought...
Good morning all,
My first full day as a vegetarian was marred with regret. Upon waking from my peaceful slumber, I strolled into my kitchen to pour myself a nice cup of half-caf sumatra and gather my food for the day whilst munching on my breakfast. While gazing into my fridge, I practically had to yank my hand away from the magnetic field drawing my hand toward the leftover bacon and sausage someone had left in a Styrofoam container, instead moving right past it to snag a few orange slices.
At that moment I foresaw my next hundred encounters similar to this that I'll face this coming month. While making my lunch and snacks for the day, I could not take my eyes off of the newly purchased pack of all-beef snack sticks. It would have been so easy to snag a couple of those to provide me with a quick protein pick-me-up that afternoon, yet I suppressed the urge and opted for some bland at best Reduced Fat Wheat Thins. A wise choice since I'm fairly certain that all-beef snack sticks played a large role in my childhood obesity.
My menu for day 2 is as follows:
Breakfast:
2 slices peanut butter toast (with white choc. PB, beats the hell out of a side of bacon)
1 glass of orange-pineapple juice
about 34 cups of coffee
1 Nutri-grain bar (strawberry acai, of course)
Lunch:
Cheese enchilada lean cuisine
roughly 3.69 oz of RF Wheat Thins
1 Nature Valley Granola Bar (Maple Brown Sugar)
4 Orange Slices
about 12 more cups of coffee
Dinner:
1 bowl of creamy alfredo pasta, hold the cluck
1 handful of salted-in-the-shell peanuts (great protein alternative)
2 Pork-chops in a bottle
*Before you gasp at this, I am referring to the deliciously smooth taste of Budweiser
The outlier in this menu is clearly the spike in coffee consumption, possibly to balance out my lack of energy from protein shortage. However, this drastically reduces my fat consumption since I like my coffee how I like my licorice...black.
Looking forward to 30 more days of this...anyone else care to join me?
TT
My first full day as a vegetarian was marred with regret. Upon waking from my peaceful slumber, I strolled into my kitchen to pour myself a nice cup of half-caf sumatra and gather my food for the day whilst munching on my breakfast. While gazing into my fridge, I practically had to yank my hand away from the magnetic field drawing my hand toward the leftover bacon and sausage someone had left in a Styrofoam container, instead moving right past it to snag a few orange slices.
At that moment I foresaw my next hundred encounters similar to this that I'll face this coming month. While making my lunch and snacks for the day, I could not take my eyes off of the newly purchased pack of all-beef snack sticks. It would have been so easy to snag a couple of those to provide me with a quick protein pick-me-up that afternoon, yet I suppressed the urge and opted for some bland at best Reduced Fat Wheat Thins. A wise choice since I'm fairly certain that all-beef snack sticks played a large role in my childhood obesity.
My menu for day 2 is as follows:
Breakfast:
2 slices peanut butter toast (with white choc. PB, beats the hell out of a side of bacon)
1 glass of orange-pineapple juice
about 34 cups of coffee
1 Nutri-grain bar (strawberry acai, of course)
Lunch:
Cheese enchilada lean cuisine
roughly 3.69 oz of RF Wheat Thins
1 Nature Valley Granola Bar (Maple Brown Sugar)
4 Orange Slices
about 12 more cups of coffee
Dinner:
1 bowl of creamy alfredo pasta, hold the cluck
1 handful of salted-in-the-shell peanuts (great protein alternative)
2 Pork-chops in a bottle
*Before you gasp at this, I am referring to the deliciously smooth taste of Budweiser
The outlier in this menu is clearly the spike in coffee consumption, possibly to balance out my lack of energy from protein shortage. However, this drastically reduces my fat consumption since I like my coffee how I like my licorice...black.
Looking forward to 30 more days of this...anyone else care to join me?
TT
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
The Vegetarian Voyage, Day 1
To anyone who is reading this, if anyone,
Today I embark on a journey of self-control and stupidity. With the emotional support of my hansom and fit sponsor, Bimmy Jackes, I commence my one calendar month (the 14th day of June through the 13th day of July) abstinence of animal protein (aside from dairy products and eggs). Admittedly, it is treacherous for a carnivorous man to vegetize himself on a whim, especially during the blistering months of June and July. He may become jaundiced from the sudden influx of vitamin A or crippled by the sharp decline of gelatinous fat; its also possible that he may suffer a TBI after slipping on his own drool after the first time he sulks past the meat case at his local supermarket. But believe you me, I have thought this decision through (as much as I typically do, which is minimally).
I acknowledge all the bountiful feasts I will be missing out on these next 31 days: the mind-boggling assortment of luncheon meats I could sample at high school grad parties, the meterwurst challenge at Gasthoff's (definitely not the correct spelling) that I'll have to postpone, and of course, my aunt's lip-smackingly splendidlyumptious pork ribs I'll have to pass up on our nation's Independence Day.
Instead I'll have to make do with a plethora of mundane pasta salads and vegetarian side dishes that eating establishments often slap together to create a complete "meal" for every poor sap who chooses to abstain from meat.
Nevertheless, in the words of Barnibus Stinson:
"Challege accep....former Massachusetts senator, may he rest in peace, brother of Jack, Kennedy!" (Ted, challenge accepTED!)
So, to any follower of this blog who witnesses me consuming any delectable form of chicken, pork, beef, turkey, ostrich, dog, kangaroo or rattlesnake any time before July 13th, I hereby administer permission to slap whatever it may be right out of my hand(s).
I'm sure nobody will read this anyway, but please wish me luck those who do.
Here goes nothin...
TT
PS, if there are any typos, point them out if ya wanna be an ass like me
Today I embark on a journey of self-control and stupidity. With the emotional support of my hansom and fit sponsor, Bimmy Jackes, I commence my one calendar month (the 14th day of June through the 13th day of July) abstinence of animal protein (aside from dairy products and eggs). Admittedly, it is treacherous for a carnivorous man to vegetize himself on a whim, especially during the blistering months of June and July. He may become jaundiced from the sudden influx of vitamin A or crippled by the sharp decline of gelatinous fat; its also possible that he may suffer a TBI after slipping on his own drool after the first time he sulks past the meat case at his local supermarket. But believe you me, I have thought this decision through (as much as I typically do, which is minimally).
I acknowledge all the bountiful feasts I will be missing out on these next 31 days: the mind-boggling assortment of luncheon meats I could sample at high school grad parties, the meterwurst challenge at Gasthoff's (definitely not the correct spelling) that I'll have to postpone, and of course, my aunt's lip-smackingly splendidlyumptious pork ribs I'll have to pass up on our nation's Independence Day.
Instead I'll have to make do with a plethora of mundane pasta salads and vegetarian side dishes that eating establishments often slap together to create a complete "meal" for every poor sap who chooses to abstain from meat.
Nevertheless, in the words of Barnibus Stinson:
"Challege accep....former Massachusetts senator, may he rest in peace, brother of Jack, Kennedy!" (Ted, challenge accepTED!)
So, to any follower of this blog who witnesses me consuming any delectable form of chicken, pork, beef, turkey, ostrich, dog, kangaroo or rattlesnake any time before July 13th, I hereby administer permission to slap whatever it may be right out of my hand(s).
I'm sure nobody will read this anyway, but please wish me luck those who do.
Here goes nothin...
TT
PS, if there are any typos, point them out if ya wanna be an ass like me
Monday, April 11, 2011
She's a soda supernova in the sky --- Published in the CSB/SJU Record Newspaper 04/08/11
Erin Andrews, where were you while we were getting high?
With recent promotions to host ESPNU’s edition of College Gameday and sports correspondent for Good Morning America, Andrews has certainly launched herself into the cream of the crop for women sports journalists (not to take anything away from Pam Oliver or Holly Rowe, of course). She has also been a contestant on Dancing with the Stars and oh yeah, did I mention she is a University of Florida alumna? Enough said.
For those of you (women) who are dismayed at my boyish discussion of Ms. Andrews thus far, don’t fret. I’ll move into a more appropriate analysis of her contributions to anti-stalking legislation.
Yes, it is quite out of character for me not to defend feminism in sports, but it would be straying away from my writing style to neglect some sort of satirical chauvinist dialogue.
Nevertheless, Erin Andrews’ most recent contribution to sports could be her best yet: Thank you Erin Andrews for bringing Diet Mountain Dew Supernova into our lives.
Obviously Andrews is not credited with inventing the flavor, name or formula for the drink. However, she has played an integral role in its success as the recent winner of Mountain Dew’s FanDEWmonium competition.
Although I will admit I have never tried the colorful and flamboyantly-named soda, I simply feel as if the ad campaign that accompanied Diet Mountain Dew’s Supernova and Voltage was wildly ingenious.
I mean, why not pit one of ESPN’s most celebrated (hardly) sportscasters against everyone’s favorite sweet and savory sideline reporter?
Kenny Mayne (representing Voltage) and Andrews (representing Supernova), respectively.
We have all seen the commercials: Mayne and his half-wit squad dropping “Twitter-bombs” versus Andrews’ cool collective gang of beautiful people simply encouraging folks to try their soda. Is it any wonder Supernova brought home the bacon? I mostly enjoyed the way each spokesperson was portrayed, women’s intuition proved superior to man’s lack thereof.
But enough of this silly soda debate, as much as women tend to frown at the way men salivate over Erin Andrews, we can all learn something from her grit and professionalism.
In 2010 Andrews began working with Senator Amy Klobuchar (Wayzata High School alumna) to crack down and strengthen anti-stalking laws.
It’s no secret she has faced severe adversity in that department with her sex tape scandal and numerous death threats. Andrews possesses qualities that anyone can admire: wit, journalistic integrity (which I clearly don’t have), charisma, passion and of course the ability to be successful in “a man’s world.”
So, for all the women management majors or anyone else who feels belittled in a good old boys profession, stand up and fight because that is the only way to turn the tide.
Our View – Grumbling majorly, part deux --- Published in the CSB/SJU Record Newspaper 04/08/11
As a graduating senior, one might assume that my mind has been void of anything pertaining to the commencement of my undergraduate academic career. However, as we seniors are attending receptions and celebratory dinners left and right, I can’t help but observe the striking differences in the way each discipline commemorates its accomplishments over the past four years.
Some major faculty choose to wine and dine its students, others award a certificate of achievement, and some simply give a firm handshake complete with a pat on the back and no celebration at all (boring science majors). I myself am a double major in communication and management and even among these similar areas of study, the events are distinguishable.
Last week the communication department treated us students to a classy and elegant reception, complete with some free booze of course. I must admit, there is nothing more gratifying than having a beer and some informal conversation with my professors, whom I’ve despised at times, and hearing the words “congratulations, we’re proud of you and we’ll miss you.” It shows you a humanistic side of academia that you won’t find in a laboratory.
Yesterday I attended the management department’s senior happy hour at O’Connell’s, equally enjoyable. Honestly, I’ve been much closer and more intertwined with my communication professors and coursework, maybe it’s because we talk about feelings. But I again felt a sense of satisfaction following the reception. My professors actually care about what happens to me after I leave this glorious place we affectionately call home, even if it is only for a few more weeks.
Following these gatherings, I choose not to reflect upon the fact that my days here at CSB/SJU are numbered, but rather that I will leave here in May feeling completely at peace with my college experience.
Yes I went to class (most of the time), I learned an inordinate amount (I’ll never stop learning), I had a little bit of fun I guess … and yeah, I talked about my feelings and discovered who I really am. But you know what? I still managed to meet, befriend, acquaint and get to know a lot of really great people and do a lot of real fun things. Much of this I credit to the skills and knowledge I was and am equipped with from my studies in communication and management.
I have probably spent more money than I’ve wanted to at St. Joseph’s famous watering holes and lost many brain cells along the way, but a good friend of mine (who is a biochemistry major) recently informed me that our brain produces more of these a day than we could ever lose anyway so that is the least of my concerns.
I’ve never understood the rivalry among disciplines over who’s smarter, or who works harder or whose better looking (communication majors by a landslide). Why not lay down the swords, seniors, and enjoy these last few weeks we have together? I may only go to class every other day and not wake up until 10 a.m., but I bet I’ve had a lot more fun than any biochemistry major. Seriously, meet me at the bar this weekend and we’ll swap stories if you’ve got them, but don’t interrupt my mom time on Saturday.
I’m going to close with my favorite joke from one of my favorite professors here at CSB/SJU (who will soon be our new Academic Dean of the College): What will a non-liberal arts science major who only memorizes formulas call a communication or management major in 10 years? Boss …
Congratulations on your promotion Dr. Richard Ice, Chair of the Communication Department, you’ve earned it.
Some major faculty choose to wine and dine its students, others award a certificate of achievement, and some simply give a firm handshake complete with a pat on the back and no celebration at all (boring science majors). I myself am a double major in communication and management and even among these similar areas of study, the events are distinguishable.
Last week the communication department treated us students to a classy and elegant reception, complete with some free booze of course. I must admit, there is nothing more gratifying than having a beer and some informal conversation with my professors, whom I’ve despised at times, and hearing the words “congratulations, we’re proud of you and we’ll miss you.” It shows you a humanistic side of academia that you won’t find in a laboratory.
Yesterday I attended the management department’s senior happy hour at O’Connell’s, equally enjoyable. Honestly, I’ve been much closer and more intertwined with my communication professors and coursework, maybe it’s because we talk about feelings. But I again felt a sense of satisfaction following the reception. My professors actually care about what happens to me after I leave this glorious place we affectionately call home, even if it is only for a few more weeks.
Following these gatherings, I choose not to reflect upon the fact that my days here at CSB/SJU are numbered, but rather that I will leave here in May feeling completely at peace with my college experience.
Yes I went to class (most of the time), I learned an inordinate amount (I’ll never stop learning), I had a little bit of fun I guess … and yeah, I talked about my feelings and discovered who I really am. But you know what? I still managed to meet, befriend, acquaint and get to know a lot of really great people and do a lot of real fun things. Much of this I credit to the skills and knowledge I was and am equipped with from my studies in communication and management.
I have probably spent more money than I’ve wanted to at St. Joseph’s famous watering holes and lost many brain cells along the way, but a good friend of mine (who is a biochemistry major) recently informed me that our brain produces more of these a day than we could ever lose anyway so that is the least of my concerns.
I’ve never understood the rivalry among disciplines over who’s smarter, or who works harder or whose better looking (communication majors by a landslide). Why not lay down the swords, seniors, and enjoy these last few weeks we have together? I may only go to class every other day and not wake up until 10 a.m., but I bet I’ve had a lot more fun than any biochemistry major. Seriously, meet me at the bar this weekend and we’ll swap stories if you’ve got them, but don’t interrupt my mom time on Saturday.
I’m going to close with my favorite joke from one of my favorite professors here at CSB/SJU (who will soon be our new Academic Dean of the College): What will a non-liberal arts science major who only memorizes formulas call a communication or management major in 10 years? Boss …
Congratulations on your promotion Dr. Richard Ice, Chair of the Communication Department, you’ve earned it.
Luck of the Kardashians --- Published in the CSB/SJU Record Newspaper 03/04/11
Is dating a Kardashian the key to winning a championship?
Last Tuesday, the Minnesota Timberwolves hosted Kobe Bryant and the Western Conference power house, the Los Angeles Lakers.
For Wolves fans, the Lakers coming to town typically means a roll-over game where you attend simply to see the likes of Kobe, Pau Gasol and Andrew Bynum thrash our dismal defense (aside from Kevin Love of course).
However, some fans flock to these games thinking they might have an outside shot of catching a glimpse at some of Hollywood’s favorite starlets: the Kardashian sisters.
Yes, everyone who’s anyone knows Khloe Kardashian is happily wed to LA’s sixth man, Lamar Odom. And when Khloe gets lonely for Lamar’s company she sometimes treks up to the arctic, that is a Minnesota winter, just to watch her hubby beat up on the lowly T-wolves. At times, her sisters and family have been known to appear at games as well.
But even greater news has rocked the world of celeb chasing basketball fans as of January: Kim Kardashian and one of Minnesota’s favorite son’s have “kourted” one another; Hopkins High School distinguished alumni and New Jersey Nets forward, Kris Humphries.
What does this mean for T-wolves fans?
Well fellas, for you it will take much less convincing to get your significant other to accompany you to a game if you bundle the chance at seeing a Kardashian with some quality time at the Target Center. And for you ladies, it’s at least one more chance to see Kim or Khloe each year! I know, I know, contain your excitement please.
But really, Kim was seen just last month visiting the Humphries clan in Minnetonka … and Kris (Humphries not Kardashian) being a Minnesota native and property owner in the land of 10,000 lakes bumps up the chance of seeing her in the offseason as well!
At this point, I will digress. Obviously I could care less about seeing Kim, Khloe, Kourtney or Katarina.
I was much more excited about having the chance to see Kendra Wilkinson again when Brad Childress stupidly acquired Hank Baskett to the Vikings’ receiving core last fall. Irrelevant, I hope my cynicism has shown through.
The real question here is … are Shawn Carter (more commonly known as Jay-Z) and the New Jersey Nets now NBA title bound for the 2012 season? It worked for Reggie Bush and the New Orleans Saints, Odom and the Lakers, and I’m sure if Ray-J decided to lace up and take a hack at winning the Masters or something like that he probably would have.
This of course, would be the biggest leap toward championship aspirations for any Kardashian beau, but nevertheless it is a possibility.
Alright K-Love, get that game face on and take a whack at wooing Kourtney because we’re tired of the NBA cellar.
She may have a child but I’m sure you’d make a great baby daddy. Rob’s not taken yet either … for the love of the game Kevin.
Tanning: not just for the fairer sex --- Published in the CSB/SJU Record Newspaper 03/04/11
Last Sunday I did something that even two years ago I never would have considered doing. I went … wait for it … TANNING. Yes ladies and gentlemen, repeal my man card because I just violated a gender norm. Go ahead and take it, I don’t care about gendered stereotypes anyway. For a man, being a male is a superficial societal expectation that, frankly, I don’t think we should be required to adhere to.
Reluctant to even travel to the fine tanning establishment my girlfriend recommended, I managed to suppress my inner-masculinity, put one foot in front of the other, and marched right in. After waiting behind a pack of full of orange teeny-boppers and one middle-aged man, I timidly requested the “Around the World” package designed for folks like me to build a nice base tan so as to prevent becoming a lobster at my exotic spring break destination. Side note: who knew that you had to get your fingerprint scanned before being allowed to tan? I felt like I was being initiated for a free-masons society.
After about five minutes of interrogation to accept me into the system I was escorted to bed number eight where I prepared myself for bronzing. The employee reminded me to shut the bed, apparently lots of guys forget that … I certainly would have. I climbed in, cranked up my iPod and mellowed out to the cool island sounds of Jimmy Buffett and Bob Marley.
Eight minutes breezed by as I fell into a sedated state. As I arose from the bed like Darth Vader in the Empire Strikes Back I embarrassingly strolled out of the salon. On the drive home I came to the realization that I had no reason to feel embarrassed. I actually found the harmful UV rays and the entire activity quite soothing. Although I still don’t think there’s any comparison to the healing power of natural sunlight, I am happy to be stepping out of my gendered box.
Of course there is always some level of vanity that is associated with tanning and you can definitely over-do it. My “fake-baked” twin brother has at times resembled a potato that was left in the oven for too long. But for the purpose of not ruining your expensive vacation by baking to a crisp in your first exposure to fiery southern rays, I highly recommend it. And you know what boys? Don’t feel ashamed. As much as we like to raz those who do, I know the number of closet male tanners is higher than we think.
So for the rest of the thousand people that are heading down to Panama City Beach for spring break, take my advice or suffer the wrath of Apollo while the smart travelers sip Mai Tai’s and Pacifico’s en la playa. If not, refrain from pestering the intelligent bunch of us who do. Hit the bed gentleman, you’ll be glad you did.
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