Thursday, January 10, 2008

Four Things

1. My resolution this year is to knit myself something. I am knitting a couple of rows every couple of days on my Daisy Stitch Handwarmers from Purl Bee. I have chosen a yarn that I got from my sister and brother-in-law for Christmas in purple and pink and green and coordinating yarns: lime green, pink, and white. It disturbs me that these colors are the same as my matching Monday scrubs (the top is hot pink, the pants lime green) because I hate them. I match everyone, and it's just a bit too bright. But, provided I finish knitting an object this year, I will have coordinating gloves. I refuse to give them away. I am knitting something for ME.

2. I am a vegetarian again, like I was from the time I was eleven until I was twenty-one. I took a couple of years off, to see if I was a vegetarian for the right reasons. I have determined I am not a vegetarian for the right reasons, but I feel better not eating meat, and it's a crucial part of my identity. It's interesting that I forgot the "other people" factor of being a vegetarian, as in the way that "other people" are constantly asking "why." Maybe this isn't true everywhere, but there are many cattle farmers here, and many people that are relatives of cattle farmers, including myself. I am not a vegetarian to be a personal affront to anyone. At all. I am a vegetarian because my diet is an inseparable part of who I am and I am not a meat-eater. There. But, I am telling my co-workers this: "Oh, there are lots of boring reasons, you know. I want to be healthier." This, I think, will mean to them that it is a diet, and while vegetarianism is NOT an acceptable thing amoung these women, dieting is. (Case in point: Coworker upon finding out my diet: "Oh, Shannah, I have a deer in the back of my truck I'm going to butcher." Me: "Ah. Well, you know I grew up on a goat farm." Nothing disgusts me. It's not their death that bothers me, or the fact that you're eating them, it's the way... well, I didn't go into it with her and I'm not going to here.)

3. I miss my friends. Everyone is either living somewhere far away and more exciting, working evenings, having babies, or redoing their bathroom. This leaves me with Roxie. She is a good dog, but not a brilliant conversationalist. Perhaps I should invest in cable.

4. I am taking medical terminology on-line. This has nothing to do with creative writing or special ed, but does give me a brighter future in medical records.

Wednesday, January 02, 2008

In Search of the Lentil

I thought the lentil was an ordinary bean, a yummy main dish, a vegetarian staple.

But here, in God's armpit (this is a loving term for west Texas) they no longer sell the little beans, apparently.

I was at the specialty grocery store this evening, stocking up on vegetarian dishes, and there were several other people there at 9:30: a gay couple, an Indian man, a local tattoo artist and his girlfriend, and a handful of female college students. Not a busy evening.

I went down every isle. This is my second grocery store. I was disappointed by two things: 1) no lentils (how do you not have a little bag of beans?!) 2) no 6-pack of eggs (I will not eat 12 before they expire).

(This post is dying slowly, so I stop here... this is what has happened to me now, that my friends have all officially graduated and moved away, gotten married, or had babies: I buy expensive food. I sit at home and write the strangest poetry yet. I consider Iowa caucuses and Annie Lammott's books. I engage others at work only because they ask about my dog. I worry about the state of West Texas because of its lack of lentils until it is way past my bedtime and write about it on my knitting blog. But there are vegetarian knitters out there, right? There are other lentil eaters? What, oh what, am I going to do with all my stewed tomatoes without any lentils?)