Vegan for Lent (aka one week back in CA, already a hippie)

Lately I've been watching a lot of documentaries on healthful eating and living. The evidence for eating a plant-based diet seems overwhelming, especially with cancer and heart disease running in my family. After watching Vegucated and seeing baby male chicks get ground up for fertilizer (which made me cry... who am I?), I was pushed over the edge and decided to take the plunge and try on this vegan thing. I can survive anything for 40 days, right? Right?

Don't worry... it will never come to this.

Since I'm likely scrapping this blog and starting a new one once I get renewed creative direction, I'm logging this experience on UGDL in the meantime. Which will be great so I can delete the evidence afterwards. Here we go...

Today is day one, which included juicing for breakfast (carrots, granny smith apples, beets, and ginger) and a salad full of kale, bell peppers and other healthy stuff for lunch. My stomach is already in knots from the detoxing and I feel like I'm having labor contractions. This is so much fun already!

My dad warned me that drinking too much juice when you're not used to it can make you throw up and/or feel terrible. He likened it to not training and then doing a marathon. Unfortunately, I've done exactly that and crossed the finish line TWICE, and so I told him he was full of shit. Apparently not.

On an unrelated note, I'm interested to see how becoming a vegan (at least temporarily) affects my dating game. I've heard several men say it's a dealbreaker. I don't understand why. I mean, what guy isn't dying to take a girl out who will order nothing but a side salad with dressing on the side? Good thing I'm close to LA - I should fit right in with those skinny salad-eating bitches! Except for the minor detail that I'm not very skinny after four years in Chicago and a January of binging on deep dish. Which means that until I am skinny, I will probably be dating black guys. That should thrill my Sicilian father to no end! (I would say "just kidding" to soften that statement but you all know I'm not.)

More updates to come.

Thoughts on Faith and Life

I'll start this post by saying that I have no idea where this blog is going anymore. The soul-searching that started in August by means of bettering myself after a break-up is really just getting started... so I'm not making any promises about content. Or frequency.

With that out of the way, I want to share a few of the things that I heard today at Chicago Ideas Week. Sessions are $15 each, and the enrichment I've gotten this week is beyond words. Best thing I've been to since living in Chicago.

Anyway, there have been a lot of impactful moments this week thanks to CIW, but the best were at talks this afternoon and tonight. The first talk was about religion. Oddly enough, the part that really stuck with me most was the speech given by a Catholic turned atheist.

As she spoke about the "fairy tale" of religion, this anthropologic explanation we've created to give context to our world... it just made me, well, sad. Mainly because I feel like in the last year I have tapped into a vein of energy, spirituality and happiness that's just pouring out from my world like a spigot. Certainly that's always existed - but now my perception and awareness have opened it up. And it just saddens me to hear people speak adamantly, declaring that doesn't exist. And maybe it is all made up. A figment of my imagination, as I've heard it described by some. But so what if it is? I'm happier and tapped into a whole new plane that I'd never experienced before, and surely there's no harm in that.

This speaker's reasoning for atheism was that it cannot be proven that God exists. Well... isn't that the whole point? Faith wouldn't be faith if you had cold, hard, scientific evidence that God exists. But the people who don't believe want proof. But there's ample proof. I mean, if God doesn't exist, whatever he/she/it is, how else do you explain the healing power of prayer? Or that felt experience of God being in the room with you, as I did when my Zio Adriano died? Or the calm and clarity that wash over you after asking God for those exact things? Forget science. That's all the proof I need.

Then came tonight's talk. I heard Deepak Chopra, Mitch Albom (author of Tuesdays with Morrie) and others speak on the meaning of life. Chopra said that "we are not human beings having a spiritual experience - we are spiritual beings having a human experience." I think that's true and that it transcends all religions.

Later Albom spoke, essentially saying that the key to immortality was giving of yourself. Listening. Sharing with others. Being open. That small stone of kindness you throw into the pond of the world can have huge ripples - don't underestimate. Be kind and giving and you'll live on through others. He gave a wonderful metaphor about living on after death. If you put a penny in a piggy bank, that penny is gone. You can't see it or feel it. But shake that piggy bank, and you can still hear it.

Lots of great things to think about. I'm continually figuring it out, but thought these were points worth sharing.

Goodnight and God bless!

Friends with an Ex - An Urban Dating Legend?

Well, I ultimately decided not to detail all of my break-up coping mechanisms on the blog. I figured it might be a bit TMI. (Here's the recap: yoga, church, beer and wine, friends, more beer and/or wine. Works like a charm, trust me.)

Three weeks later, and I feel good. Really good, actually. It happened pretty quickly too, which took me by surprise.

Normally after a break-up I'm moping and crying and devastated, replaying all the wonderful times and wading around in the shock of it ending, wondering what I could've done differently. But not this time. I wouldn't change a thing.

The overwhelming feeling I have now? Gratitude.

Mostly for the perspective that comes with age and experience. All those other boyfriends who went by the wayside - well, I survived, didn't I? This time is no different.

There's also gratefulness to J for showing me 80-85% of what I ultimately want in a partner. He was pretty damn close to perfect, and I owe him for showing me that great guys really are out there.

And you better believe I wish that guy nothing but the absolute best. I picture that one day, I'll pass him in the street - we'll both be happy and doing well and we'll know we did the right thing. Come to think of it... isn't that a scene from The Break Up?

Anyway, that kind of happened today. I was walking home after buying a last minute bridal shower gift, and was running late as usual. His house is halfway between Crate & Barrel and my place, and of course I ran into him. Had I been punctual, I wouldn't have. Funny how timing works, isn't it?

Did I mention that this first post-break-up run-in was right outside of his building? Awkward. I'm glad I had a C&B bag to sort of prove I'd been shopping, or he probably would've thought I was stalking his life.

But aside from the awkwardness of the location, seeing him really wasn't so weird. There was the whole being-caught-off-guard thing, but beyond that I felt like we were both genuinely happy to see each other. No longing, no resentment.

After parting ways, I felt like we did make the best decision for both of us. That's a pretty great thing to feel, especially only three weeks out.

When we broke it off, I'd hoped that we could be friends. Maybe we really can be.

Have any of you ever tried to be friends with an ex? Did it work? I'd love to know...

wake up call

The silver lining to breaking up on a Saturday morning is that you have the whole weekend to hang out with friends and do fun things that distract you from your heartbreak. Like eating and drinking my way through Chicago for the past 48 hours. (I should not have gotten on the scale this morning.)

And then Monday morning comes and reality sets in.

I think the strangest part of a serious relationship ending is the change in routine. You wake up and want to text him. Or expect to see a message or get a call from him wishing you a good morning. But you can't and you don't.

I had a really hard time getting out of bed this morning. Maybe because I'm not 100% convinced that I made the right choice. Part of me thinks it was a mistake.

But knowing I have to press on and that it's truly going to take a day at a time, I forced myself to get up and go to yoga. And now at 11am, I feel much better than when I repeatedly hit snooze a couple hours ago.

Not only has this morning's yoga set me up for a more productive and active day, but I feel calmer and stronger and more focused. This should have been part of my morning routine for months now. I'm grateful for the extra motivation this whole experience has given me. Because I know I've got to keep pushing harder.


image found here.