I've been a vegetarian for a few years now, and normally this doesn't interfere with my life...except for when I am desperately trying to build muscle at the gym.  ...okay, so I lied.  Not eating meat has a big impact on my personal life, but the impact is usually limited to feeble attempts at body building.

Aside from making me look like a living skeleton, not eating meat makes social gatherings that involve food a little awkward.  ...and almost all social gatherings involve food.

I freaking dare you to think of a social gathering that doesn't involve food.  ....Go ahead, take your time.

That's right, you can't!  Food is always involved when people get together.  Having someone eat something that you brought/preapared is a great way to show that you care about them.

But what do you do when that person refuses your offering of delicious food?  You stare awkwardly and wonder what the hell is wrong with them.  There's nothing wrong with me, I just don't want to eat meat.


Most of my family and friends are quite supportive of my eating habits since they really seemed to help with my weight loss and active lifestyle.  However, my "little" brother knows that if I ate meat I would be ripped out of my freaking mind...thus making me less of an embarrassment to his god-like biceps.

Unfortunately, not everyone in my family understands the benefits of a vegetarian diet.  My grandma is nearly 100 years old and finds it to be confusing at best, and deathly at the worst.  Yes, my grandma is nearly a century old...but that doesn't stop her from making sure all her grandkids are happy, healthy, and have a mountain of hearty food available.  I would rather gnaw off my left arm than disappoint her (I'm notoriously left-handed), so this makes meal time with Grandma a little difficult. 

Do I cave in to her request and break my vegetarianism to make her happy or do I run away screaming?  Neither!  I just eat obscene amounts of everything else!

Usually I can get away with eating a veggie burger or tofu-dog and this makes her extremely happy since if it looks like meat then it must be just as good for me.  Unfortunately, tofurkey is expensive and nasty, so faking it just isn't an option for Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner.

If you haven't tried tofurkey, it is like taking sawdust, tofu and breading, compressing it into a blob and then smothering it in spices.  Disgusting.

The only thing I hate worse than upsetting Grandma is upsetting my niece.  She is by far the sweetest and most adorable kid on the planet...and SHE KNOWS IT.  Brittni can get me to do anything, and I am not exaggerating.  I ran 16 miles during a heat wave only to bump into her at the finish and then take her to get shaved ice immediately after instead of passing out on the floor with a gallon of water as usual.


It's not that she condemns my diet and thinks it is stupid like my brother does.  She just thinks it's weird for me to refuse to eat anything that is delicious. 

Fortunately, there is one sure way to make any awkward situation enjoyable...booze!  As I have said before, I don't drink much or often; so when I do have something flammable in my glass the reaction is fantastic.  ...and family gatherings are always a good reason to drink.


My brother-in-law, Kevin, is easily the coolest relative I have since he knows how to solve problems, particularly the ones involving me awkwardly bumbling around the house trying to avoid questions about what is (or isn't) on my plate. 

If I were half as cool as Kevin, everyone would think it's awesome to be a vegetarian...when it really kind of sucks.

Despite being an English major from a University with a notorious bar culture, I am not much of a drinker...despite my very best efforts to achieve the noble status of "Drunk Writer."  As an undergrad, I wanted nothing more than to grow a beard, reek of booze and sulk in the corner of a pub with my laptop and regrets.

HOW AWESOME WOULD THAT BE!?!  [Pretty awesome]

Anyway, on my quest to becoming a booze hound I found that different drinks influence my behavior so differently that I've diagnosed myself as a schizophrenic drunk.  Basically, each type of drink creates a different kind of drunk.

Like I said, I don't drink much since I, unfortunately, do not enjoy being hungover, spending lots of money, or going to places full of intoxicated (and thus erratic) strangers.  I also seem to possess the digestive system of a twelve-year-old child that has spent his entire life on a purely vegan diet.

...When I do drink, it goes a little something like this if I have sweet or caffeinated mixed drinks such as Coke & Rum.
I call this type of drunk "The Tornado" because I become a being of PURE DRUNKEN ENERGY capable of fueling every major metropolitan city on the planet with my spastic behavior and supernova ADHD.

I drank Jagerbombs once, and I will never do it again.  The results were terrifying.  I am surprised the building I was in did not collapse.  I think I played DDR for something like 8 hours with my Japanese, Korean and Chinese dorm-mates until I passed out on the futon and puked all up in my crazy garbage can.  (And I really liked that garbage can too!)

Sugar and alcohol aren't always a bad thing though.  I went as JD from Scrubs for Halloween, and was promptly introduced for the Appletini.  Ooh sweet baby jesus in a jungle gym, that magical concoction is like drinking jolly rangers!  It was so delicious that I didn't care that it made me look like a total wuss.



It turns out that drinks such as the Appletini turn me into The Musical Ladies Man.  I will sing anything and everything.  ...and since I only ever have these at bars, that means Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" will be played at least 20 times.  I will sing along every single time (for the ladies).

Despite popular belief, drinking doesn't make anyone a classy ladies man.  Ever.  This is particularly true when I drink Scotch (my favorite).  Straight liquor of any variety will turn me into a hyper-aware mess that I like to call The Paranoid Agent.


Blue and red lights, people moving toward the exit, gestures that look anything like reaching for a weapon and I am like a Vietnam-vet having a horribly vivid flashback.  It is time to kick ass, save lives and LEAVE NO MAN BEHIND!  If I am drunk on liquor, I will sneak around corners like I am James Bond.  If I have been drinking scotch I will cover my tracks like reality has become "Call of Duty"....and I don't even play that game!

"Why not just drink beer?  It's manly and definitely not the kind of drink to make you an idiot."

Ahh, if only it were that simple.  But, beer is liquid bread...and that just makes me full, sleepy and strangely philosophical. 


I love Guinness, but I will politely tolerate American beer when socializing...but all beer of all types creates the same type of drunk with me.  I get full, I get deep, and then I fall asleep.  Such is the fabulous life of a narcoleptic philosopher.

And the best part of all of this is that it only takes a few drinks to make me goofy as shit.