Reinforcing the positive is pretty much the only way to keep going when life gives us a sucker punch to the psyche. So I get up, look in the mirror and say, you look fantastic! Because, hells yes, I have lost more weight in the past two months, I have gained ten more pounds of muscle (I scare me with my biceps), I have gotten more flexible with my knee (oh, but the PT sucks!) and I have really amped up my metabolism.

I’ve decided that I don’t look hideous anymore- I even got hit on by a really cute air man after a bon odori performance. (David thought it was funny, especially since he was two feet away watching it happen). Yes, validation by a cute guy!

I’ve been doing well, if I sit down and add up all the positive things. It’s really easy to tally the negative, but it’s just as simple to say, man, I’m doing well.

I have many reasons why I changed my lifestyle from a ravening carnivore diet to what I have now. Initially, I used to be quite the meat eater, tucking away three pork chops at a meal and then some. I would go back for seconds and thirds at family barbecues, sampling every meat offered. Going to a store when there was a meat sale was hazardous. I’d buy bags and bags of pork, beef, chicken and whatever else was proffered and stockpile them in the freezer. Ironically, although I loved to fish I hated to eat fish, unless it was deep fried. I loved beef jerky and Slim Jims. In short: I loved meat.

I couldn’t understand what the hell vegetarians saw in a Boca burger or a block of tofu. Yark. Meat was all, there was no other alternative. Then I met my vegan neighbors in Murphysboro. I had offered them hot cocoa and was about to add some milk when I was stopped short by, “We’re vegan.” Come again? Vegan? Like vegetarian? Why don’t you drink milk then? Vegan, as in no meat, no eggs, no dairy. WTF do you eat then? How do you live? Yeah, that was my stellar answer to their veganism: How do you live.

It was through my neighbors I was introduced to meat and dairy alternatives and actually began to like them. My neighbors didn’t lack for food or variety and my eyes were opened. Although I still ate meat, I wasn’t as averse to the concept of vegetarianism as I first was. That changed when I topped the scale at 350, my blood pressure was 149/90 and my cholesterol was 214. Oh, lookie, Boca burgers are on sale!

It wasn’t until we moved to St. Louis in 2005 I weaned off of meat along with David. After moving, I no longer bought meat or cooked it. We would “meat out“, that is to say, we’d only eat meat when we were dining out. In July 2005, we no longer ate any meat, except seafood. It had taken us almost three years to get to that point. It didn’t happen overnight but we were happy with the change.

The top reasons I no longer eat meat are my decisions and affect me personally. I won’t force my views on anyone and don’t talk about my decisions unless asked or provoked. But for those who are curios:

My Top Reasons I Don’t Eat Meat

• Meat is expensive. Damn straight it’s pricey! I can buy a bag of smeat (soy meat) for $2.59 and have it last four hearty meals.
• Meat can be dangerous. With tainted meat recalls, antibiotic and hormone injections, and diseased animals making it into the food stream more and more often, yes, I feel smug about my lifestyle. Sue me.
• Meat is high maintenance to prepare and cook. When cooking with TVP, it’s perfectly OK to sit it on a counter top for two hours to reconstitute and TVP can be eaten “raw”. Not just that but TVP and meat analogies don’t take long to defrost if frozen. Can’t really do that with chicken. Who ever heard of getting salmonella from TVP?
• Meat, even the healthy cuts, has more cholesterol, fat and calories than its analogies. I don’t need anymore cholesterol, fat or calories .
• Meat hurts my digestion. Badly. It wasn’t till after my second intestinal cleanse I realized meat made my guts hurt. It takes the human body a long time to digest meat, compared to digesting vegetable matter. Stopping my meat intake alleviated many, many gut problems for me and gave me renewed energy.

Yep, I’m glad I don’t meat anymore. I feel better than I ever have, but that’s me. And if I ever feel the hankering for a chicken leg or for some sausage, Taiwanese manufactures like VegeUSA have me covered completely. To those who scoff at meatless or pescetarian lifestyles as lacking in variety, protein, and substance, all I have to say is: I can eat hot wings, curl 12 pounds each arm and am satisfied after every meal. Plus, I’m no longer a plus size.

Every year for the past fifteen years, I’ve gone to the store the day after a major candy holiday and stocked up on half price candy. It’s a thrill for me to grab four boxes of marshmallow Peeps for a buck. I always feel the consummate bargain-ess when I can get a mountain of goodies for a fraction of the price by just timing my purchases.

The trouble I encountered with binge buying was with binge eating what I bought. With little to no self control back in the old days, I could tear through a heart-shaped box of chocolates in twenty minutes, I kid you not. I could go back for seconds within an hour. So post-holiday candy buying wasn’t really the bargain it first seemed, especially with the interest I was paying in calories and fat.

I love my holiday candy however, and the bargain hunter in me finds it a sin to pass up such good deals. What to do with so much temptation just lying around the house? It’s not a good thing for me to have a bag of conversation hearts staring me in the face everyday. Sooner or later, it’s gonna get eaten and eaten all at once.

The thing I learned to do with candy in order to save myself from myself is to hide it. That’s right, I tuck it far away in a place I’ll forget about. Put it in the back of the freezer and bury it under the hot dogs and the fish sticks. Hide it in the closet, in one of my old purses or boots. Fill random drawers with a chocolate bunny here and a Cadury Egg there. Squirrel away the candy and forget about it till it’s found by accident. What I do nowadays since I have a partner in candy crime, is I have David squirrel it away. If he hides the candy, I’ll be less inclined to look for it since I’d feel ashamed to go rooting through drawers and tossing underwear on the floor to get my sugar fix. That’s an image of myself which shames me into reaching for a carrot or an apple instead of a piece of candy.

We have a pile of loot which’d make even the staunchest of candy proponents sick to see. It’s huge, mammoth in scale, and the reason it’s so large is we don’t eat it often. Seldom do we dip into our sweet savings. I forget it’s there except when the sugar crazies hit. Then, with frightening clarity I’ll remember I have a bag of Jelly Bellies left over from Christmas or I have a box of chocolates from Valentine’s Day. Only then does the loot get broached, and only with three pieces, max. This method works great and doesn’t deny me either my bargain hunting or my chocolate. In fact, the candy practically lasts until the next Candy Season. We’ve even thrown candy out since it staled.

Squirreling is a method which may or may not work for other people. Some may have an eidetic memory and the process is pointless. Others may not have the will power and polish off the candy before they have a chance to hide it. Still others may find themselves frantically trying to discover their squirreling holes. Like I said, it’s not for everyone, but squirreling works for me. I’d be nuts not to use so great a compromise!