Paper Fruit

Yesterday I saw a bunch of vegans I know online sharing this article, “The 19 Most Annoying Things About Being Vegan,” and it was pretty good for a laugh. It’s sadly true that most vegans I know (including myself) have experienced most it not all of the items on that list, including dealing with the hand-wringing of people who become suddenly concerned with our protein intake, or obviously take some sort of bizarre pleasure in playing “gotcha” by pointing out that abstaining from cheese and meat is (allegedly!) pointless because there’s pig fat in tires and animal by-products in plywood. It’s also an amusingly self-aware article about veganism, for friggin once, since instead of taking the but why do you refuse to think about the screaming of murdered baby pigs and cows you omni asshole tone so rampant in internet articles about veganism, even the “funny” ones, it instead points out that yeah, some of us do miss the taste of cheese sometimes, and yeah, we do laugh at jokes aimed at vegans because we do have a sense of humor, and yeah, while it’s frustrating to be fed plate after plate of grilled veggies at catered events, it’s super-nice of people to ensure there’s a vegan option.

But another reason that Buzzfeed piece made me laugh so much was that last week I saw at least (at least!) fifteen thousand people posting and reposting a Guardian article called, absurdly, “Can vegans stomach the unpalatable truth about quinoa?” Upon seeing it for the first of far-too-many times, I immediately felt my expression becoming frown-cat face because I’ve been vegan for nearly 7 years at this point and I can smell a finger-pointing, smug-but-misinformed locavore article a million miles away. It’s a talent, what can I say?

Anyways, the article starts out with a description of quinoa, a grain-like seed native to South America, and talks about how it’s become increasingly globally popular in recent years because it’s good for you and tastes pretty okay too. It’s also a “credibly nutritious substitute for meat” (reputable nutrition journalists without an obvious bias against vegans would simply call quinoa a “good source of protein”, btw).

It then talks about how the global appetite for quinoa has begun to affect Peru and Bolivia negatively, alleging that farmers in those areas no longer can afford their staple food and are eating less healthy, more processed alternatives. If accurate, this is obviously extremely distressing. I say “if accurate,” as it turns out that NPR ran a similar article in November of last year, but there has been some question about the truth behind some of their claims, which are similar to the concerns raised in the Guardian article. I don’t know for sure which side of the story is true; both sides raise interesting issues. Regardless, this concern for Bolivian and Peruvian farmers is certainly something I’ll be considering when making future food purchases.

Yet, setting aside the core of the article for a moment, I think it’s fascinating that the finger in the Guardian article is pointed directly at vegans. Vegans, it basically says, can you handle the truth that you’re also morally suspect when it comes to making ethical dietary choices?

Yes?

Duh?

Protip: That’s exactly why many of us vegans are vegan in the first place! (Shockingly enough, it’s not just that we hate fun and bacon and also really enjoy being a giant pain in the ass to everyone when traveling or deciding where to go to dinner!) Thus, the finger-pointing (and finger-waggling) the author utilizes to make the various points she’s trying to make beyond the whole quinoa thing that defined the first part of her exposé is kind of … stupid. Like this, for example:

Soya, a foodstuff beloved of the vegan lobby as an alternative to dairy products, is another problematic import, one that drives environmental destruction. Embarrassingly, for those who portray [soy] as a progressive alternative to planet-destroying meat, soya production is now one of the two main causes of deforestation in South America, along with cattle ranching, where vast expanses of forest and grassland have been felled to make way for huge plantations.

What’s actually embarrassing is that even the Guardian, who ran that dumbass article, can’t even stand behind the author’s claims—they have, since publishing the piece, added a footnote to the above quote I cited clarifying that, in their own words, “while soya is found in a variety of health products, the majority of production – 97% according to the UN report of 2006 – is used for animal feed.” Yep, it’s not actually those pesky vegans ruthlessly destroying the rain forest with our appetite for fake bacon bits and plant milks! Because—again, another protip—as vegans, we eat neither the animals fed with soy beans nor do we consume the products of animals fed with soy beans. (We just eat the soy beans. Yum!)

Additionally, the notion that such a small group of people out there—vegans are, I think, less than 2% of the population in the U.S.—could be the ones responsible for this problem is deeply silly. The bias in the Guardian article is so absurd, so obvious, so pointlessly, misguidedly accusatory, that it’s pretty cringe-worthy that this was presented not as an op-ed but as environmental/world news. Because, despite our efforts to vote with our dollars, vegans simply don’t have enough economic clout, enough large-scale buying power, to impact such an enormous change on the world. (The reason there’s ten jillion kinds of plant milk at the natural food store isn’t the vegan clientele—it’s that vegetarians and omnivores also like hemp milk.) While it’s true that I bought one bag of Bob’s Red Mill Quinoa a year and a half ago, and I have genuinely no idea if it’s South American or not … I’m still using it. Compared to, say, Whole Foods’ (omnivorous) salad bar, or the Boulder yuppievore restaurants around here who serve it alongside elk steaks and farm-to-table chicken and whatever else, I’m statistically insignificant. Not that my insignificance excuses my actions—like I said, I’ll be considering this issue whenever I think about buying quinoa in the future—but as a vegan, I simply don’t matter as much as the vastly larger population of rich omnivores who control the market for “health foods.”

Why am I bothering to point out this article’s bias against vegans? Surely the issue as regards farmers in South America is more important? Yes, definitely! And because of that, I feel that it’s important to note that the author’s ridiculous sputtering over those people who make different ethics-based dietary choices than she does is so extreme that she herself gets away from her point, wasting valuable space and time ranting about those troublesome vegans instead of doing actually good investigative journalism on what seems like a major issue. Instead of keeping her focus, her article devolves into an attempted ha-ha about soy, and asparagus, and how locally-raised meat and dairy are so much better for the earth and for humans (though she is just plain wrong about that … at least, so says the extreme leftist vegan propaganda engine called, uh, the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations.)

Anyways. I guess my overall point is that when it comes to talking about global food markets, shortages, economics, and the ways we can be better people … unless one’s goal is simply to get as many hits and comments as possible, surely focusing on the truth behind what our appetites are doing to the planet and the people living on it—and what we can do to change things for the better—is probably a better way to raise awareness about those issues?

This last weekend Jesse, Raechel, John and I all ran the Colorado Warrior Dash together! Warrior Dash is one of those obstacle-races that are becoming more and more popular (others include the Rugged Maniac, the Spartan Dash, the Tough Mudder, etc.), and those who sign up run and then climb over/under various obstacles, high-step through tires, leap over fire, and various other feats of strength and agility.

The aforementioned people are all very awesome/tolerant, and thus I managed to convince everyone to run the race as ponies from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. I ran as my favorite pony, Rainbow Dash (I am nearly 31 and just typed that, YES I KNOW OK LEAVE ME ALONE), and Jesse went as his favorite pony, Pinkie Pie. John and Raechel, who aren’t, er, quite as enthusiastic about the show were, respectively, assigned Applejack and Twilight Sparkle.

I like to sew, sort of, so I took care of the sewing/customizing of everyone’s outfits, and I must say I am really proud of how they turned out out:

Check it out! Big ups to Raech for my and Jesse’s hair—she did all the bleaching and coloring, including the painstaking process that produced my spectacular rainbow mohawk. Now for some closer-ups. First, AJ and Pinkie:

Dash and Sparkle:

So! Yeah!

The race did get a bit muddy at the end (if you count having to swim through a pit of mud, under barbed wire, “a bit muddy”) but thankfully there were showers and we got the worst of it off before changing into warm dry clothes. The aftermath, drying on the hood of my car, is pretty epic:

Overall, Warrior Dash was a lot of fun. There was some unfortunate bottlenecking at times (the culvert crawl in particular was a nightmare; I think we were delayed 10 minutes to do what turned out to be the most un-fun obstacle in the entire race) and I felt some of the challenges were a bit repetitious. Even so, I had a great time and I’m glad I did it. I’m excited about checking out other obstacle races in the future, too—if I can overcome the recent flare-up in my ongoing knee issue. Boo to that, but yay to fun stuff (even if it induces said flare-ups …).

I conquered my second 14er last Tuesday: Mt. Bierstadt, the mountain that conquered me this past January. I went up maybe a third of the way with Courtney Schaffer and a few other friends, but the snow, cold, and need to slog through two miles of fresh powder along what, in summer, is just the road up to the parking area, made things a little hairy.

When it’s not freezing cold and snowy as hell, Bierstadt is no big deal:

Bierstadt is the mountain on the right. If you click on that picture you can see a little protuberance on the left-ish side of that big round mountain; that’s the summit. It’s a short hike (maybe 7 miles round-trip), and it’s essential in the summer to get up early to do it. Bierstadt’s closeness to Denver and relative ease makes it very popular, and the threat of thunderstorms in the summer means it’s much safer to start early. My hiking partner Jesse and I met up at four thirty A.M. and hit the trail at six thirty. We were not the first up there by any means.

To hike Bierstadt, you go through that valley on a series of bridges over the marshland, then wind up the ridge that’s in the sunlight in that picture. After that you head up up up but the ascent is never particularly dramatic. You do, however, reach one heck of a false summit:

Neither of those bumps is the top. Bwahaha!

Still, the absence of any hard or technical climbing to the summit makes it a breeze to get up that final ascent. You just kind of find patches of dirt and stable rocks to mountain-goat/scrabble up the whole way. I managed it easily in my Vibrams (the hiking kind).

Then you’re at the top! Someone had brought a poster to document their trip, and were passing it around:

Here’s the view from the top of where we’d come from. If you look to the right of the lake you can see a little loop of road. That’s the parking lot!

The back of Bierstadt:

Epic, amiright? That’s why people do 14ers if they’re not into the machismo aspect of the sport.

So then you go back down. No big deal, right? Well, it wouldn’t have been except that I misstepped and sprained my friggin’ ankle about a quarter of the way down. Well, I think I sprained it; it might be a bone bruise. Whatever it is, it’s still hurting. Whatever, anyways, the injury meant I had to hike about three miles back to the car. Here’s about where I sprained it:

That looks far, but it’s really just off the summit. 14ering makes for weird perspective.

The injury was not comfortable, and yet … it’s kind of awesome knowing the amount of pain I can endure and still get myself to safety, if things ever got really real on a hike. It was a hell of a lot easier with Jesse’s help though, mad props to him for tolerantly inching his way down the mountain with me in my hobbled state.

I’m off to Florida, and sea-level tomorrow, where I will continue rehabilitating my ankle!

Man, what a great con. Probably the best con I’ve ever been to! And not just because Portland is the best city ever: Because the people were all really nice, the programming was fabulous, and most of the films were excellent.

It’s been over a week since I left, but I’ve been in and out of hospitals and trying to help my mother as much as I can while my dad’s going through some challenges with his pancreatic cancer. So rather than doing an articulate, fresh-off-the-high-of-awesomeness post, here were the highlights:

• Meeting people. I know I’m going to leave someone off and feel bad, but here goes. I got to meet my editor Ross Lockhart from Night Shade, my editor Cameron Pierce from LFP, his wife Kirsten (who’s my copy editor for A PRETTY MOUTH and she is fabulous), and various sundry people I’d only met online before, like Andrew Fuller (the programming chair for the con), Wendy Wagner, who is even more amazing IRL, which I did not think possible, Gwen Callahan, who runs the Arkham Bazaar and also the con itself I believe, Wilum H. Pugmire, a writer I’ve respected for many a year, Cody Goodfellow, who is a hoot, Jay Lake who I met but briefly whilst we were co-paneling, E. Catherine Tobler, who is a Colorado local who I met in Portland for the first time, Jeff Burk, a fellow Bizarro person, Rose O’Keefe, the publisher/CEO at Eraserhead, and Silvia Moreno-Garcia, my editor at Innsmouth Free Press. Whew! But seriously, they were all amazing and fabulous and I loved meeting them, getting drinks and eating foods, and generally having a good time. Thanks all of you for making me feel so cool and welcome and one of the group!

• Watching Stuff. Stuff like Wilum’s reading (fabulous!), stuff like the Editors’ Panel where I got to see Ross, Silvia, E. Catherine, Jeff, and a few other people talk awesomely about publishing. Oh, and movies of course. So many movies! I got to watch The Whisperer In Darkness, which was goddamn fantastic. Wow wow wow. Everyone should see this, it was well-produced, beautifully scripted, the special effects were great, the music was amazing, wow. I was genuinely creeped out at times, and while Lovecraft is great at cosmic horror, he doesn’t really give me, you know, the heebie-jeebies so that’s an accomplishment. I also saw a lot of the shorts, which were on the whole awesome. I liked Coda, a short film the aforementioned Andrew worked on, Re-Animate Her, Black Pharoah, GAMMA, Bedtime for Timmy, The Shadow out of Time, and the fabulous (if baffling) clip from The Evil Clergyman, part of an anthology that is being released later this year. I had mixed feelings about Monsters, I guess, because of a lot of reasons, but it had fabulous special effects so I came away feeling neutral about it. Really the only total dud for me was It’s In the Blood, which I watched because it had Lance Henriksen in it, but oh, dear. Full disclosure: I’m never going to be won over by the premise of “father and son go into the woods to figure out their feelings and talk about dude stuff” so maybe the film just wasn’t for me, but the graphic rape of the only female character, and menacing non-Caucasian villain didn’t help me come away with many positive feelings. Extra points taken off for Lance pretending to be a girl having an orgasm for maybe five exceedingly uncomfortable minutes, and the line “if you want to become a man you have to kill the boy inside you.” Or something. Close enough. But you know, it won an award, so maybe it just wasn’t for me. Fair enough. Anyways, my meh over that film aside, the movies were by and large excellent. John got to see Die Farbe, which he said was awesome, so yay!

• Foods. Voodoo Doughnuts. Sizzle Pie. Hungry Tiger Too. Sweet Pea. Blossoming Lotus. Some coffee shop with fabulous sandwiches that I can’t for the life of me remember the name of. Some pub with great beer and, unexpectedly, a vegan pot pie. More Voodoo Doughnuts. Fuck yes.

• Miscellany. The VIP reception. Getting to hang out with everyone at The Moon and Sixpence and Tony Starlight’s and the Lovecraft Bar during afterparty stuff. Hanging out with Bizarro peoples. Getting a Miskatonic University t-shirt. Signing stock at Powell’s. And doing it all with my husband. John had never come to a con with me before, and getting to introduce him to people was amazing.

I want to come back to the Lovecraft Film Festival every year I can. It was so, so fun, and I feel so lucky and honored that I was invited to come speak and read and just simply hang out with such fabulous people. Thank you everyone who was involved in making it such an amazing experience. I miss you so much already—but hope to see you next year!

Starfest/DigiFest/HorrorFest/etc is this weekend! If you’re going to be there, say hi. Here’s where I’ll be:

Friday, 6PM: Asian Cult Cinema Panel

Saturday, 3:30: Writing the Dark Side

Sunday, 12 noon: Multimedia Reading w/Jesse Bullington. We two are collaborating for ours as we’ll be reading our co-authored story “Tubby McMungus, Fat From Fungus.” If you’re looking for it in the program, David Boop, Mike Hance, and Quincy Allen will also be reading.

But! Here’s what you really came here for today: Tahini Blondies!

So I wanted halva but I couldn’t be bothered to buy a candy thermometer. Thus: Tahini Blondies. Adapted from Vegan Cookies Take Over Your Cookie Jar, these are amazing tahini-ful squares of sesame bliss. Not for tahini-haters. If you’re on the fence, try ’em—they just might change your world. Or at least your ambivalence about tahini.

Tahini Blondies

3/4 cup tahini (I used Joya)

1/4 cup vegetable oil

1 cup brown sugar

1/4 c. non-dairy milk

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1  cup all purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

2 tsp sesame seeds (I used a mix of white and black)

Preheat oven to 350 F. Lightly grease an 8×8  baking dish.

In a mixing bowl, use a fork to vigorously mix  together tahini, oil and sugar. Stir in milk and vanilla. Stir in  flour, salt and baking powder. The batter will be very very thick and won’t spread on its own. Transfer to baking pan and press it into place. Sprinkle on the sesame seeds and lightly press them into the top.

Bake for 22-27 minutes, the edges should be just barely brown. The top will appear soft, that’s okay. Remove  from oven and cool completely before slicing. I bolded that because they are super gooey if you don’t. Also, I had to go the whole 27 because of altitude, so check yours at 22.

Argh, wtf happened to the internet this week?! Usually when I go on Facebook or wherever I am able to procrastinate over adorable pictures of cats and/or Dumbledore and/or whatever, but good Lord,  it’s apparently National Body-Shaming Week, and so I’m hoppin’ mad instead of mildly entertained. Ugghhh.

I guess people celebrate National Body-Shaming Week in a few exciting ways: If you’re a layperson, you post offensive memes about women’s bodies whereupon women of one size and shape are exulted for their attractiveness and women of another are shamed for theirs; if you’re a medical professional, it seems you celebrate by deciding to spend your money by putting up stupid-ass billboards featuring disembodied people with guts or, heaven forfend, cellulite, whilst alleging dubious claims about diet! Argh, no, please to stop?

So yeah, Infuriating Body-Shaming Piece of Utter Bullshit Number One is the meme to the right. I’ve seen a couple different of these, all with pictures of some random skinny girl I would probably recognize if I read more magazines, and then Marilyn Monroe or Bettie Page, with the general theme of “When did [modern generally-unattainable beauty ideal] become more attractive than [generally-unattainable beauty ideal from days of yore]?”

Now, I get the sentiment behind this one. A certain ideal of tallness, slenderness, and fitness has put pressure on women of all sizes for years and years, put forward by the fashion/entertainment industry. It can be a toxic world out there if you don’t fit in to what people (allegedly) find popularly attractive: Larger women get used as examples of “what [some group of people] don’t want all the time, it can be hard if not impossible to shop for trendy, fashionable clothing if you’re bigger lady, getting adequate medical care can be super-difficult, the list goes on. Hell, it seems the best roles non-skinny actresses can land are either the super-depressing tragic kind, or the “good-natured but sassy friend” or whatever [see: Gilmore Girls, and like, I dunno, every other show. Even Parks & Rec, my current fave show is guilty of this to a point, though to be fair, everyone is ridiculous in his or her own way on that show, not just my girl Donna). It sucks. But it also sucks to promote some redonk “real women have curves” nonsense* by way of responding to this, because it’s feeding the same fire. First up: it’s still alleging that women are only valuable if [some group] finds them physically attractive. Second: it’s not okay to pit women against each other, especially over their bodies. Women get the message all the time that we are constantly in some sort of Darwinian cage match against one another, over men, over jobs, over being considered most fashionable/in shape/successful/whatever. It’s dumb and untrue, and it makes the world a lot scarier if one’s perception of sisterhood is believing the woman hugging you with one arm has a stiletto held behind her back with the other.

Now, I’m not 100% down with the fat-posi/health at any size movement–in fact, I disagree with a lot of what I’ve read of that group’s writings–but I do believe 100% in body-positivity (to be fair there is a lot of overlap). It’s healthy to love yourself, natch, whatever you look like. More on that later, though. I’m only mentioning the fat-posi/HAAS communities because I think the best thing they’ve managed to get out there is the stone-cold fact that you can’t know anything about a person’s health just by looking at him or her. I mean, my dad is the best example of this. He’s had pancreatic cancer for close to two goddamn years now, and still looks fantastic. You would never think he had anything wrong with him, and yet he’s been in beastly chemo since his diagnosis. Christ, he went to the gym yesterday and did weight lifting. I can’t get to the gym when I have a hangover. The point is, you can’t simply look at any person out there, fat or thin, and claim to know how healthy he or she really is. It’s true that obesity can up your risk of heart disease, diabetes, metabolic syndrome, etc. but it’s also true that there are women out there every day who are in the overweight/obese category who eat right, exercise like total maniacs, and are perfectly healthy. By the same token–and here I am looking right goddamn at you moveon.org, you cannot look at a random skinny girl and decide she is anorexic. WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK. How body-negative, judgmental, and icky. And how dubious a conclusion to reach based on A FACEBOOK MEME, amiright? Because unless we’re going to diagnose every cat in the world with dyslexia … you know, I’m not even going to engage further with this, it is too ridiculous. But other bloggers have, and much more articulately than me, so, good.

But, argh, wtf, it’s just too bad for common sense and kindness this week because even goddamn doctors are celebrating National Body-Shaming Week, too! See Infuriating Body-Shaming Piece of Utter Bullshit Number Two, to the left.

Behold: The PCRM, a group I usually like, has released the dumbest billboards this side of PETA, no small honor there. Every bit as bad as the “Save the Whales” campaign of whenever ago, the PCRM has erected the billboards to the left in Albany, NY, as some sort of … I dunno, anti-cheese-eating effort? AAAAHHHHWHAT. I know Americans eat a totally gross amount of cheese, which as I have noted more than once, is made from milk—a substance intended to turn tiny baby cows and sheep and goats into large cows and sheep and goats, meaning those dairy-industry claims that cheese will help you lose weight are REDONKULARIOUS—but this sort of body-shaming is a stupid, ineffective, and nasty way to try to motivate folks to cut back on the brie. First up: there are plenty of fat people who don’t eat cheese. Like, um, me? I was 40 lbs heavier this time last year and I hadn’t eaten cheese in five years. And guess what–now that I’m 40 lbs lighter, can run (knee permitting), hike up mountains, do unassisted pull-ups as of today, rock over 100 push ups at a stretch, lift heavy weights, and pretty much do any physical activity I want to … and, uh, I still have cellulite. OH NOES OMG PUT UP A PICTURE OF MY THIGHS TO SHAME THE MASSES.

Really, PCRM?! No one food makes anyone overweight; for some people, no amount of health eating and exercise will give them bodies that fit into the narrow range of acceptable/attractive in every way. That is some junk science right there.

And furthermore, how this repulsive fat-shaming fit into any of your stated goals? I just don’t get it: The message here is not one of “eat well and exercise as preventative medicine!” which is what I though the PCRM was all about according to their own, you know, “about” page. It says right there in black-on-white text that they are all about, allegedly, providing “vital information to tens of thousands of people” What is the vital information provided via those horrid billboards: “fat people are gross?” Gee, thanks!! That’s some truly revolutionary “bringing the message to the masses,” there. OMFG.

Maybe the worst part of this whole debacle is that waaaaay more motivated folks than me emailed the PCRM and are all getting the same stock response. My favorite parts have been these:

Thanks for being in touch. You’re making a good point, that people with weight problems might not be especially pleased about seeing obesity depicted on a billboard.

Um, I don’t have weight problems and … never mind.

Certainly, many people have enough self-esteem issues as it is. But that raises the question, what do we do to attack the problem of obesity?

Dude, y’all are supposed to be doctors or something. Even I know shame and fear are the worst motivators for long-term weight loss. Anyways hold onto your (cellulite-riddled, no doubt) butts, because here’s my favorite part of their form letter:

So how do we wake people up? Our ads are designed, not as any sort of “shaming” or falsified depiction of obesity, but rather simply as a view of ordinary obesity exactly as it is. If you thought “fat is beautiful” as some cultures have in the past, you would probably find the images attractive. Take another look, and you’ll see exactly what I mean.

I took another look, and OMG that’s so true! See?

I totally see your point now, PCRM! The warm, loving colors, attractive posing, and non-disembodiment featured in your billboard totalllllllly highlights human beauty if you’re just into fat chicks and dudes!

Anyways. ANYWAYS. Fat-shaming is super-gross, and scare tactics instead of science is a reprehensible approach for a medical group. Just sayin’. Stunts like this are annoying, ineffective, and make vegans look like judgmental crazy people (which, sadly, some are). They also do nothing to inform the public. Ugghhh. There’s so much better stuff out there to talk about with obesity and dietary concerns regarding the Standard American Diet and really pernicious foods like bacon and sausage and I don’t even know what else. But I guess this is dumber and easier, so yay!

Anyways. ARGH! Can we just be kinder to one another? Can we make a vow to celebrate beauty without a compare/contrast attitude that puts people falsely into opposition? Or—even better—not hold up arbitrary standards of physical attractiveness as any determinant of the worthwhileness of an individual, male or female? While we’re at it, can we also please work together to learn about how to make healthy, positive choices for our bodies and the planet? I know it’s hard, but I betcha it’ll be worth it in the end!

_________________

*What is a real woman? What is a curve? How do we define either of these terms? Is a FTM transexual like Buck Angel a “real woman?” He was born female, and he does have some curves: His enormous biceps are super-curvy (and sexxxy), but he identifies as a man/male. Anyways. The point is, it’s a stupid adage because real women come in all shapes and sizes, and anyways it’s crappy to assign concepts of “realness” or “fakeness” to something as nebulous and undefinable as being a woman.

It’s a big bright new year and likely most people (who consider January 1st the start of the new year, anyways) have made some sort of resolution. Mine, for example, is flossing. I don’t floss enough … and, frankly, I am kind of suspicious of people who do, but whatever, it’s supposed to be good for you. So, flossing: YES!

I have a few fitness-related goals, too, because of course I do. I want to run a race (well, I am going to run a race: the Warrior Dash, in August), and I want to be able to bench press 100 lbs by the end of the year. Just because. Oh, and I want to conquer my fitness nemesis: the unassisted pull-up. For some reason I am just awful at pull-ups, and it’s total bullshit and I’m tired of it.

But anyways! This post isn’t about that. It’s about how not to talk about fitness, inspired by an unpleasant interaction I had today at my gym.

So I got it into my head it would be a good idea to get my body fat percentage checked. It’s a free service at my gym, and I was curious. I got it checked last year, and was in the low 20s if memory serves. I haven’t lost that much weight since then, but given how much muscle-building I’ve been doing at the gym, I figured it would be interesting to see what was going on inside my body.

This morning I’d never seen the lady sitting at the desk before, but I asked her if I could use the little weird electronic thingy they have to measure my body fat, since the personal trainer I’m friendly with at my gym had said it would be cool. The lady said sure, and led me to her office. There, I told her my weight (135 lbs) and height (five feet five inches) and age (30, going on 19). She plugged these numbers into the device and handed it to me—and I was pretty pleased when it blinked, beeped, and said 19.6%.

Woo! I thought to myself. That’s pretty awesome. I’m under 20% body fat! Rawr!

But I was just thinking this when the lady, her brow furrowed in maternal concern, said, “Ohhhhhh … 19.6 percent … hmmm.”

“Hmm?” I asked.

“Oh, that’s just … well. You’d need to be between 15%-17% if you wanted to be an athlete.”

I was sort of shocked by this—not only did that sound low to me (it is), but also … really? ‘Hmm?’ With a furrowed brow of maternal concern? And also: percentage of body fat makes you “an athlete” and not, like … being athletic? I regularly swim, lift weights, run, and hike, and yet … I’m not an athlete? Because of a number? What now?

If ever there was an IRL moment for the O RLY? owl to swoop down and hawk up a pellet of mouse bones on someone’s head, that was it.

So anyways, there I am, proud–and there she is, shaking her head. What came next, you ask? Hahaha!!

“Did you just join?” she asked, staring at my body.

“No,” said I. “I joined last year, in August I think.”

“And what do you do at the gym?”

“I run, swim … but I love weight-lifting the most! It’s so fun, I really enjoy it.”

“Of course you do,” she sneered. “It’s the easiest thing to do.”

“Uh,” I said. “Well…”

“Do you eat a lot of junk food?” she interrupted, still staring at my figure with obvious distaste.

“Not a lot,” I said, only sort of lying, because technically beer is a drink and not a food, “I’m vegan, and eat a pretty healthy diet.”

At this, her brow furrowed so much it appeared to have actually been plowed by a vigorous bucolic farmer with 17% body fat, perhaps with the aid of a stout horse with 15% body fat. An athletic horse, you get my meaning.

“Vegan means no eggs or dairy, right?”

“Right, no animal products.”

“What about fish?”

“Fish … is an animal,” I said, with what I hope was a polite smile, and added a cheerful “ha-ha I’m sure you were just joking right omg” laugh.

She stared back. “I guess I never thought about fish that way.”

I did not respond to this. Because, what? Also, I was trying to figure out a way to get away from her without actually fleeing.

“Well, the good news,” she said, in a doubtful, concerned you were hit on the head with a large boulder, but the concussion is only a mild one tone of voice, “is that the average American woman has 24% body fat. So you’re doing good by that standard.”

“Great,” I said, at this point desperate to leave her presence.

“And I’d never have guessed you were so heavy,” she said, also doubtfully. “You’re tiny—you must be really dense.”

“Okay, haha, yeah, cool,” I said, or something like that, beginning the inch-away-from-the-situation tiptoe-dance as she started to babble at me that it would be a reasonable goal to get down to 17% body fat (putting me at around, oh, 115 lbs, btw), and if I were her client and blah blah blah omg wtf bbq.

Whew! Hahah, sure, whatever. She sucked, no harm no foul. But the thing is, I’m super-duper lucky that I have an amazing, supportive family, and confidence in my own athletic abilities, because Good! Friggin! Lord! I can’t imagine how that interaction would have made me feel if I wasn’t secure in my knowledge that Crom himself forged me of Atlantean steel. Probably I would have felt like I was actually 19.6% dog poop.

I’m also lucky I didn’t have that encounter a year ago, when I was just getting into fitness (and had a far, far higher percentage of body fat!). I probably would have been really discouraged, and felt like “fitness” was some sort of insane impossible goal that only professional athletes could attain by spending thousands of dollars on equipment and training and whatever. (It’s not!) And this person is the Wellness Coordinator at my gym!

Don’t most people in this country already have a vexed enough relationship with fitness, overall wellness, and balancing the stresses of modern, sedentary life with healthy athleticism? Eesh!

This is the season when many people will join gyms, hoping to live healthier lives, and I think that’s so awesome, and I hope anyone who does so sticks with it until it’s a happy habit instead of a slog. I know I’ve never been happier than I’ve been since starting my quest to be a hard badass of legend, and I hope to pay that forward someday, in some way. But my greatest hope is that no one who is motivated to start working out and eating right has such a heinous encounter with a “fitness professional.” I know first-hand that it’s pretty easy to give up on goals, especially ones that make you sweat! Exercise and eating right isn’t always easy, but it is rewarding–and that should be the message people in the fitness industry try to promote. Not that you’re not an “athlete” unless your numbers are this, that, or whatever!

Talking about fitness in a worrisome, negative manner is not cool. Better, I think, to be encouraging; to play up the positive, celebrate success, and challenge yourself (and others, if it’s your business to do so) towards reasonable goals. Revolutionary stuff, that, I’m sure!

Omg. Anyways! Here’s hoping you all have a healthy, happy 2012! I know I plan on it—even though I’m so dense.

We take Thanksgiving seriously around these parts. This year was no exception. Behold:

Clockwise from the top: John’s tofurkey (recipe was my dad’s for perpetually perfect tofurkeys), garlic mash n’ gravy courtesy Jesse, whole berry cranberry from the can, because I like it better than anything I make myself, off-brand vegan crescent roll, mac n’ cheeze, garlicy roasted brussels sprouts, and enshrined in the center, Raechel’s stuffing, from her grandma’s recipe.

Everything was even better than it looks here, which, woah.

We also had pie. I didn’t get a picture of Raechel’s pumpkin cheezecake, regrettably, but here’s my motherfucking deep dish apple pie (second picture has my salted caramel ice cream on top, because, well, you only live once:

The next day we went on a 10+ mile hike up in the high country, in one of my favorite areas we’ve hiked in, the Hall Ranch Preserve behind Lyons. It’s so beautiful, and I wish I had more pictures! But here’s me, looking sort of perplexed:

And then, at the midpoint, I ate one of my finest Frankenstein creations of all time: EPIC LEFTOVER SANDWICH!

I hollowed out the end of a ciabatta, and stuffed it with thinly sliced leftover tofurkey, fresh spinach, some leftover sprouts, gravy, mac n’ cheez, gravy, and cranberry sauce. YES! Also vegenaise and Sierra Nevada Porter mustard on the bread, in case you ever want to reproduce this magnificent creation.

All right! Tomorrow: back to reality. Oh and also, Future Lovecraft is available for pre-order! You should definitely buy it for someone this Christmas because that book is awessssssommmmme.

Thanksgiving is always awesome here in Boulder. Between Raechel and Jesse/John and myself, we loaf around, watch movies, make too much food, and it’s always amazing. The menu this year, for example, is Tofurkey, stuffing, garlic mash & gravy, brussels sprouts, cranberry sauce (from the can, what), deep dish apple pie, and I think a pumpkin cheesecake. What.

I love Thanksgiving flavors too much to confine them just to the Big Day, though, and last week I wanted to do a Thanksgiving Warm-Up for dinner without spending too much money or time in the kitchen. The answer? Thanksgiving Cheatballs. Made with Gimmie Lean, veggies, and whole wheat breadcrumbs, each cheatball has over 8g of protein and is only 108 calories. And just look how delicious:

Pictured here with the Polenta Stuffing and the Silky Chickpea Gravy from Appetite for Reduction.

Here’s the recipe! Perfect for a weeknight where you want Thankgsiving in miniature, or as a main dish on T-day when you’re burned out on too much Tofurkey!

The end of October and the first weeks of November have been very busy what with turning 30, signing my first book deal, finishing up a major goddamn project that ate my life for a year (huz-fucking-zah), and whatever else has been occupying my time. Jesus Christ, it’s Thanksgiving next week! (Or, rather, “Thanksliving,” as Article 10, Section 2 of the Vegan Code mandates I call it: “Vegans shall be required to rename and/or feminize any and all foods associated with meat or meat-consumption, e.g. “Thanksliving” “shepherdess Pie” “cheatballs” “pepperfauxni”, etc.”)

But seriously, it’s been a good few weeks. My dad was just approved to be part of an experimental study for pancreatic cancer patients, which means he’s off of traditional chemotherapy and taking a combination of pills to combat the tumors. Also, he turned 64 today. (My mother says this answers the eternal question of “Will you still feed me/will you still need me/when I’m 64, because she is adorable.)

Additionally, I had a rockin’ Big 30 Birthday. My homeslice Brad and his ladyfriend Suzanne came to visit, and we went hiking, ate too much food, and had a big old Halloween party. Pics!

Here’s me at the Halloween Party as Han Solo. Who’s scruffy-looking?

Raech as a vampire hunter:

John and Jesse as 24 and 21 from The Venture Brothers:

Brad as one of the dudes from this awesome OK Go music video, and Suzanne as the girl with the dragon tattoo:

aaaaaand the punch I made that gave Jesse one of the most hilariously awful hangovers I’ve ever witnessed. Recipe here!

The next night, at the 30th Birthday Bash, me and John:

Jesse and Raech:

aaaaaand me getting all red-faced and teary-eyed upon being given the complete Jem and the Holograms DVD box set:

Woo! So yeah, good times. I’m excited for upcoming things too, like eating too much and going on a long hike next week, starting a new fitness regimen (with part of a birthday windfall I purchased a new program from Sandra, who guided me through her Virtual Boot Camp), and, I dunno, some other stuff.

Oh shit, I almost forgot! I got tattooed for my 30th b-day! Here’s a picture of the tattoo, and also part of my right boob:

Soon: a recipe for delicious Thanksgiving-flavored Cheatballs!