Happy eggs taste funny
A while ago I decided to stand for something. And that something is happy animals. If you’re confused, let me clarify. I disagree with the way factory animals (animals raised for the sole purpose to end up on our plates) are treated while they are alive and during the killing process. I’m not a member of PETA nor do I think it is wrong for humans to eat animals. What I think is cruel and wrong is for those animals we intend on eating are treated like they are worthless, brainless, things. When, in fact, we depend on them for tasty burgers, wonderful breakfast sausage, celebratory feasts, and many, many, many other delicious meal time treats.
Instead of cramming a hundred cows in a 20 by 20 foot pin, where they are so close to one another the crap right on their neighbor, we should be letting them roam free in open, green, lush lands where they can frolic and play until their order is up, at which time they should be put to death in a guaranteed painless, quite, and complete way. Same goes for pigs, chickens, and all the rest of soon to be dinners. We don’t even put the worst of murderers in that manner. We put them up, rent free, in a sweet 10 by 10 pad, with four square meals, free schooling, workout time, and sometimes TV time as well. Oh and when their order is up, there is a team of doctors there to insure a painless, quick, and complete death. Murderers – who only take life, and yet we still treat the animals that nourish life a hundred times worse. It just doesn’t make sense to me.
I have made a vow to do my part by not supporting such activity! I refuse to buy or eat any “unhappy” animal product. Okay, to be completely honest, it’s a process. I am 100% on the meat part of it all. As for milk, I mostly stick with soy, but when I want some real dairy goodness, I only buy organic (which in my mind equals happy). Yogurt, on the other hand, I am still eating the normal kind, when I eat it. That will be the next thing I switch. Most recently I made the switch to ‘cage free’ eggs. And to tell you the truth, they taste a bit wonky. But I am willing to bet that is exactly how an egg is supposed to taste. And I will just have to get used to it. They aren’t gross, just different. Which I think is perfect evidence for my theory.
My theory: Not only is it ethically wrong to treat animals they was we (as acceptable society) do, but its got to be unhealthy, and less yummy on a very deep chemical level. If you think about your body, when you are happy, your body releases chemicals – good happy, healthy, fantastic chemicals. The same is true when you are scared, or stressed. Only instead of happy, healthy, fantastic ones – you get unhappy, damaging, horrible chemicals. Now I know, and have heard it plenty, “No, Stress is good for the body, keeps you on your toes…” and blah blah. Sure maybe in small doses stress can be beneficial. But Imagine living in a constant state of stress and torture, it can be very detrimental. I think this will affect taste and texture of the animal you are preparing. So by eating only free range, grass fed HAPPY animals you can not only eat a more quality animal, you can feel good about it! Creating a much better situation for you and all animalkind!
This is a beautiful bandwagon headed somewhere utterly untoppable, wont you jump on? I’ll save you a seat with a view!
Filed under: animal rights, Everyday life, make a difference, standing for something | Leave a Comment
Tags: happy animals, happy cows, stand for something, vegitarian
“I would kill for some cookie dough” – send. It’s a normal occurrence for me and my sister, Tiffany, to have random conversations throughout the day using our works instant messaging system; Spark as we call it. “But would you kick a puppy?” she sparked back. This morning, first thing, she told me she would “kick a puppy for a gooey doughnut or cinnamon roll!” I thought that was far beyond any cruelty level one should reach for such a simple treat. So my answer to her question was “hell no!”, she proceeded to tell me “I don’t think you want it bad enough then!” And that got the rats in my head racing on their wheels. I guess it’s a question of value – morals. Would I kill for some cookie dough? If so, what would I kill; a bug, a lizard, a wallaby, a muskrat, another human? And if yes, and I would do such a horrendous thing for some pre-crumble state of sugar, flower, oil, and egg – what wouldn’t I kill for!!?? Killing an ant for some dough is then directly comparable to pot. A gate-way drug. This shocking revelation sent a shiver down my spine! I have the making of a cereal killer (I mean I loooove cereal far beyond words can express, and if I needed a fix, there’s no tellin what I would do)
But that’s human nature I suppose. And since that is fixed, innate, within our DNA, there really is no point in trying to fight it. You accept who or what you are, and make the best out of it. Right? Just use some elbow grease, polish yourself up like a shiny new penny, and no one will ever suspect a thing! Words to live by my friends, words to live by. On the other hand….. Last night I was watching a movie on TV, FX to be more specific. The Girl Next Door, and forgive me for quoting it but I’m gonna anyway; it’s just too appropriate. “Is the juice worth the squeeze?” Would the time and effort of scrubbing blood off my hands, digging under my nails to get the chunks of flesh or fur out, and creating a constant sting of lies truly be worth whatever sweet concoction I was currently craving? The answer – Probably not.
The previous two paragraphs may have been a little bit morbid and extreme, but I feel they are still relevant. And it is truly is a question of values – morals. What would we do in life, for what we want to get out of it? Most people would say go to work each day and do a good job, others would say pray, or think positively – all of which are great ways to approach it. But there is a larger than most would like to believe group of individuals that would say to lie, steal, and cheat your way to the top. I personally subscribe to the former. Back in the days when woman didn’t brush their teeth or hair, and men roamed around barefoot wearing whatever mammal the just killed, it was acceptable to clobber your neighbor over the head and drag his wife back to your cave. But nowadays – not so much. To get ahead in life you must put forth effort; give, in order to receive. It’s high time the bulk of society gets rid of this ‘something for nothing’ attitude and adopts a more productive, successful ‘can do, will do, did’ attitude, I think everyone participating in my study will see how much they will actually accomplish and receive if they stop worrying about what they will get and start focusing on what they can give.
As I depart from my soap box, let me leave you with some food for thought. I have recently learned The Strangest Secret and from that has come about a slightly altered mind set. My new favorite quote comes from it. Earl Nightingale says “Life is to be an exciting adventure; it should never be a bore”. SOOOO true! Keep this quote in mind all the time, but please don’t make your adventure be any sort of a homicidal manic-istic nature. Thanks, and have a Great Day!
Filed under: Everyday life, Family, humor, just for fun, random thougts | 1 Comment
Another Step
Whenever I go through a breakup I find myself questioning the things that make me – Me. The things that motivate me, the things that I want out of life, my goals and my ability to successfully attain those things I want. What did I do, what could I have done – why didn’t he want me? The many lines, or reasons I hear from each one – when they actually give me one – are all very different, but I still find myself feeling the same way. Why is it that these events shake me to my core? Why do I assume that any personal progress I may have made in the amount of time I was with him was due solely to him, and meant nothing or will disappear with him? With as many times as this scenario has been a part of my life, sad to say, I have never asked myself that question. Why do I discount myself in the significance of the relationship?
Recently I experienced something I knew was coming, but was still surprised and hurt as if it was an unimaginable event. I’m going to call this one the non-breakup breakup. I had met a guy, a great guy, a couple months back. He was my best friend’s husband’s cousins. At that point in my life I had sworn off men, just been through a pretty rough heart break, my opinion of the opposite sex was extremely low. But this one had a pretty reliable reference so I decided to give it a shot. So here we go: Date 1- sushi, baseball, and wine. I didn’t know what to expect going into it, I don’t think I expected anything actually, but to my pleasant astonishment, I had a wonderful time. The conversations were fluid, flowing the entire date from topic to topic, covering areas from wedding toasts, to religion, to kids, to our own personal views on life. I was surprised to find someone that shared a lot of the same ideas as I have. All in all I thought it was a successful evening. The next day- Date 2: my first soccer game – fun, exciting, new. The next month or so fallowed suit. Mixed in with the laughs, deep conversation, bottles of wine, and the many movies I fell asleep during were a couple of the “where do you see this going” talks. The overall consensus was that neither of us was at a place in our lives where we wanted to be tied down. We each had our own goal and things we wanted to accomplish before the idea of a significant other was even remote possibility. We decided to keep it light, no expectations, no commitments.
I’ve always been a really private person. I don’t open up and share things about myself to anyone easily. It just gives them ammo to take you out with later in life, and I don’t like feeling vulnerable or viewed as weak. But for some reason, I can’t explain, I let my guard down with this one. After a few weeks into this non-relationship relationship it dawned on me, even though there is no commitment, I am setting myself up for hurt. Immediately I wanted to throw my protective wall up and hide behind it. But for some reason I fought against it. I guess it’s because some part of me knew that this was something I needed to do. I needed to allow myself to be vulnerable, to be open to someone, in order to grow and be open more in life. I knew it would cause me pain, but I don’t think it mattered to me.
Anyway, back to the story at hand. This non-breakup breakup was very emotional. But with it being such a short non-relationship relationship why was I so sad? It wasn’t a goodbye, we agreed to remain friends. It wasn’t the end of some epic love; yes I had feelings for him and, admittedly, they had started to grow deeper than I initially intended, but they had just started, and were halted by the week preceding these events, so that couldn’t have been it. I started digging deeper. I needed to find the answer and the only place that answer would be found was inside of me; time for some soul searching. Here’s what I came up with. It was a conditioned response. I am not discounting my sadness, because I am very sad. Even though we are friends, that relationship will never be as close. I loved having someone ask how my day was, and really cared to know. He became a type of support system I hadn’t had before, encouraging, and genuinely interested in who I am, what i had to say, what I wanted, and where I was headed. The future for our friendship, while still very valuable, will never be the same. But I digress; the conditioned response I mentioned was to the reality of what was going on. I was being told by someone I cared for that he didn’t want me anymore. Without the time for real analysis of the situation, the waterworks were turned on.
I’m a strong believer that everyone is brought into our lives for a reason. Whether it is to lead us somewhere, hold our hand through some trauma, or teach us something, each new person has value. Whenever someone leaves my life, even though it has proven to be a struggle sometimes, I try to identify why they were brought to me in the first place. For example; Brady held my hand through some seriously trying times growing up, as I did for him. Bryan helped me experience, love, and long for a life in the city. Alex (this one was the hardest for me to define) got me in the habit of wearing my seat belt, and also showed me how much inner strength I actually have. Cory (the non-breakup breakup) was the most significant for a number of reasons. He opened my eyes to so many new things, and taught me to just enjoy life how it is now while staying focused on the future. He encouraged things I wanted to do, like writing for instance. But the most important thing he showed me, the thing I will treasure for the rest of my life, the thing that had been stripped away bit by bit from the most recent relationship, is that it’s not only okay to be me, but it is great to be me. I’ve always had confidence, but now I feel more confident with who I am and what I have to offer. I’m not saying this wouldn’t have happened on its own, or by some other method, but without a doubt he was a catalyst for this positive change in me.
I started writing this because thoughts seem to get jumbled in my head, there was too much going on in there to make sense of any of it. I thought getting these thoughts down on paper would help me work through them; they make more sense written down than frantically swirling in my mind. The original question I had, why do I think I will go right back to where I was before I met these people? The answer – because I let myself. I place too much emphasis on the relationship itself, instead of seeing it as another stepping stone on life’s path. Any growth I made during the relationship wasn’t only because of them; no one can change me except me. I am the one who set the goals and expectations. So just because someone is no longer in my life does not mean I do not continue on the path I set for myself. It’s insane to look back and realize how much I have grown. I see things a lot differently – in a much more positive light. And it feels GREAT!
Filed under: Everyday life | Leave a Comment
“…You are just like your mother!” Is something you hear often in movies, TV shows, and even in life when a woman is nagging or otherwise being annoying to the man saying it. I, personally, have never heard this coming from someone of romantic interest, however, I often hear “you look just like your mother” or more commonly, “oh you sound just like your mom”, after notifying the caller on the other line they are speaking to Erin, not Cathy when I answer her phone. And it’s true, sometimes I hear myself talk and think ‘whoa! Was that me or mom that said that’ or when I look at her old pics of when she was around my age. We could be twins! So when I hear things like I am the spitting image of my wonderful mother, I simply take it as someone stating a fact – a flattering fact.
I never understood how saying someone is just like their mother could be an insult – but I guess that depends on the mother in question. If said mother was an overbearing control freak, or a sloppy booze hound, or an ill tempered nit-pick, and constantly exhibited such aggravating qualities than okay… yes, it would most definitely be an insult. But for most cases, nagging a man to keep the toilet seat down or to take out the trash doesn’t warrant “your mother” comments. I chose to write about this today because it’s my mom’s birthday. I wanted to be able to get her some extravagant gift, but she pretty much goes out and buys everything she wants or needs. What to do, what to do? Ah ha! I will blog about what a fantastic mum I have. I’m going to attempt to make this be more elaborate and comprehensive than any of the notes I have written in previous birthday cards… So here we go.
I remember growing up when I would get punished, or wouldn’t get my way on something, I would say things like “when I have kids I will not do (whatever event I was unhappy about)” or “I will let my son/daughter do (whatever I was unhappy about) if they want to”. But looking back on things I don’t know if I really would. I am sure that if and when I have my own children my upbringing and theirs will slightly differ, but I was taught good manners and respect – very important attributes that I will instill in my brood as well. But enough about the way I was raised, this post, after all, isn’t about me(something really don’t revolve around my very existence, I know it’s a hard concept to accept but if I can do it, you should be able to as well).
What I really want to focus on here is the role-model value Mom has. Never have I known another woman who is as sure and comfortable with how she is. My mother is someone who cry’s when she is sad, happy, or simply emotional, regardless of who is around. Someone who yells when she is very mad; laughs without holding back, gives with her whole heart, puts others first, enjoys all life has to offer, extremely empathetic, I could go on and on. Basically she is 100% true to who she is 100% of the time. She is someone to strive to emulate. In this blog, or other blogs I have written, I am always saying how life is about growth, bettering one’s self. That is hard to accomplish if you don’t have an image of what that better is – she is mine.
Trials and tribulations, when approached properly, breed triumph. Everyone has their own story, their own hardships and issues they have had to deal with. But that is other people, I don’t know about other people, furthermore, this isn’t about other people (if it isn’t about me, it damn sure isn’t about strangers!). I am not going to sit here and add a bunch of wordy content to make it seem like my mom had a horrible life, filled with unfit figures, drugs, violence, or any other swan song stories because it simply isn’t true (for the most part). It seems the only stories you hear about nowadays are the extremes. So-and-so got ran over by an 18 wheeler and has to live each day eating out of a straw being held by someone else but still brings hope to puppies everywhere, or “even though Juan only has three fingers, he managed to stop a robbery, save Mrs. Pippen’s kitten from a big bad spurs all while balancing 82 plates on his nose – an everyday hero!” All that is great food for sitcoms, and should be celebrated when it actually happens, but what about the real heroes; the people that make the biggest impact on our day to day lives? You never read headlines announcing “MOTHER COMFORTS CHILD BACK TO SLEEP AFTER NIGHTMARE” or “MOTHER TAKES DAUGHTER OUT FOR A DAY OF HEALING AFTER WORLD SHATTERING HEART BREAK”. Granted, that isn’t news the whole world needs, nor wants, to hear. But these are the things that make headlines in our everyday life; the real heroic actions that make the most difference on a very basic and essential level. My mom is my hero! She has had her moments where life has kicked her in the face, thrown her to the ground, tied a rope around the ankles, and drug her 50 miles on a dirt road, but she hasn’t let it change her, in a negative way anyhow. Her outlook on life, love, and other people – despite what awful things life has shown her – is still optimistic, she still sees the light of hope in every face. I know this, not because she has told me, but because it radiates off of her, like the warm glow from a fire.
Mom, you have been a truly stupendous mother to me. Even now, as hard as I try, words can’t begin to express the bottomless gratitude I feel towards you and towards God for making you my mother. I am beginning to see you in a new light, not because you are any different, but because I am. You have led me, by hand and example, through life’s darkest hours. As I continue to grow and mature, I pray to keep the same outlook on life as you do, that people around me can feel the same warmth and glow I feel when I am around you. You have not only become a beacon of hope for me but also a very close and valued friend. If I ever hear some tell me “You are just like your mother” I will bear it proudly and thank them!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM! I LOVE YOU!
Filed under: Everyday life, Family | 2 Comments
Adolescent Bird
“HONK! HONK, honk, HONK!!!” bellows my Kia’s surprisingly forceful horn. Damn birds! Are they trying to get themselves ran over? I felt like shaking my fist at them, but I figured the display of anger would be lost on such a tiny brained creature. “Are they suicidal? Is it just me or have you noticed a change in birds behavior? Seems like every bird feeding off the road has either grown a very large pair, decided to play chicken with the cars, or has a desire to end their small insignificant life.” At this point I seemed as crazy as the feather brained fluff bags, talking out loud as if to a nonexistent passenger. I just brushed it off as normal thing everyone does from time to time and continued the conversation, although I did move it inside my head.
Since no human has found a verifiable way to communicate with our fine feathered friends, I was forced to draw my own conclusions as to why the recent changes in road side conduct. The many different scenarios I concocted in my mind were as farfetched as they were varied. The mind can be a very entertaining place if granted judgment free freedom. Just as I reached the pinnacle of implausibility, I turned the corner near my home. Yet another disturbance in my driving experience. “HONK! HONK, honk, HONK!!!” bellows my Kia’s surprisingly forceful horn, again. Damn kids! No, I’m playing, I didn’t honk at them. I wanted to, but refrained. If it wasn’t in my neighborhood I most likely would have, but since these kids would have seen which house I pulled into and could have creative freedom over my car from the hours of 9 PM till 5 AM, I thought it best to display patience. So while waiting for the lovely pre-pubescents to meander across the street, it hit me.
What if all those birds that play in the street, annoying us drivers, being somewhat dim-witted, were just young and testing their boundaries? I remembered back to my days of teenage entitlement and wonder how I never got hit by a car or mowed down by an SUV. “I’m the pedestrian” I’d protest, “I have the right-of-way” never mind the fact that I was walking down the center of the street. I think as adults, knowing that’s a normal growing up phase or process, we allow a certain amount of tolerance when we encounter such insolence. But has anyone ever stopped to think maybe the same should be allotted to the animal kingdom as well. Birds have a great way of hiding their age, until their feathers start to thin up top, we just can’t tell whether they are 5 months or 5 years old. I’m just saying, and maybe this applies to me more than anyone else, the birdies deserve some respect too. Not to mention in Utah, birds have the right-of-way on the highway; it’s the law. Look it up. Next time you see Ferdinand crossing the street, just stop and allow it to happen with a calm and courteous attitude. You never know, one day when they decide to reenact Hitchcock’s The Birds, your life may be spared. You never know, you just never know.
Filed under: Everyday life | 1 Comment
The Many Uses of a Snow Shovel
“Ask a lazy man to do job and he’ll find the fastest, easiest way to get it done.”
Over my years of daughterhood, I’ve learned snow shovels are not just good for that one back-breaking task that comes around each winter, they have many uses. This past Saturday I went over to my parent’s house to pick something up. I should have known better, going over there on a Saturday is just asking for trouble, and by trouble I mean chores. I thought I got away with it this time though, but just as I was preparing to leave, my dad walks in the door. “What are you doing here, kid?” my father asked me as he entered the from garage door. “Leaving” I quickly replied. I knew something was coming that I wouldn’t be able to say no to. Growing up, I was not allowed to say no to my parents, and even though I am an adult now and fully capable of refusing anything, I still stick to those damned pesky respectful values that were instilled in me with an iron hand all those years. So I try to avoid being asked to do things when I can.
“You wanna come out and talk to me while I clean out the shed?” He thinks he’s so clever. Just as he knew I would, I followed him out to help. Thus began the list of to-do’s. After the shed was organized, the summer equipment packed away neatly, exchanging places in the garage with the winter necessities, fallen apples needed to be picked up from the ground below the tree. I reached for gloves, my dad reached for rakes. And now we’ve reached the point to my post. See, while I planned on picking each apple up individually by hand; bent over, chasing them around like a upside down letter U, my old-er, wiser father would rake them up in a pile then put them in the trash.
After all the apples were in a pile, he disappeared for a few seconds, reemerging with two snow shovels in hand. “Ask a lazy man to do job and he’ll find the fastest, easiest way to get it done” he said, beginning a story of all the things he’s used a snow shovel for in his life; picking up leafs, garbage, weeds, etcetera, etcetera. I started thinking about it, and it’s very true. As many times as I have seen him use them, and used them for things like that myself, you’d think I would have picked up the habit by now. But lazy? I never thought it was lazy. “Efficient, not lazy” I told him. This is something I have been learning in yoga too. I’ve been told several times to stop fidgeting and be still, to conserve my energy. That doesn’t just apply in the yoga studio. All you hear nowadays is about being more energy efficient and conservation. So why not when it comes to yard work? Yet again, I have learned another valuable lesson from my pops. That you don’t have to make everything harder than it needs to be. And hopefully I helped him see things in a different light. Being smart, doesn’t make you’re dumb, just like being resourceful doesn’t make you lazy.
Filed under: Everyday life, Family | Leave a Comment
I went on a date a few months back. The guy seemed to be really interested in me and we had a pretty good time. However, six months later the only thing I can remember about him or the night is one thing he said to me. I am sure he meant it as a compliment, but I certainly didn’t take it as one. He said, “You have great legs, your thighs are nice and thick” THICK! That is the last thing I want to be said about my thighs. I work hard to keep my legs slender and fit. Not thick. Needless to say I was pretty self conscious the rest of the evening, and it pretty much killed it for him.
Now I am sure the word ‘thick’ may have meant something different to him than it did to me. To him, and perhaps guys in general, thick could just mean strong, able, fit. But to me, and I’m sure most women, the word has a negative connotation; large, robust, manly, are just a few examples of how a woman would have heard that. He might as well said, “You have really nice legs, nice and FAT”. And that, well that sounds more like an insult! It would be like a woman saying to a guy, “You have great arms, nice and petite.” I’m sure that would damage the male’s ego – same thing!
This doesn’t just happen to me either. I have a really good friend who gets pseudo-compliments like that too. My favorite one she told me about was a guy told her “you have great legs [it’s usually about legs in my experience] I hope my son has legs like you one day”. That one made me laugh! He took it to the next level. Once again, “You have great legs” would have gotten his point across without a cold cock to the self-esteem.
It’s true; perhaps we women should stop being so damn sensitive and just take the compliment how it was meant. But on the flip side, shouldn’t the compliment-giver take into account how his/her words will be received? Isn’t the thought behind how a “compliment” makes the beneficiary feel be just as important as the compliment itself? I certainly think so. So guys (and girls) pay better attention to what you are really saying; make sure your compliments are actual compliments. Take yourself out of your brain for just a few minutes and spend sometime in the other persons shoes. Believe me, in the long run it will be worth your time and effort.
Filed under: Uncategorized | 2 Comments
Improvident checkers
There are a few things that really, really, really get under my skin; whistling, littering, and wastefulness. And while I know the first is probably a personality flaw of my own, the other two are sound aggravation. In this post, I am going to focus mainly on my 3rd listed irritation.
Not only is being wasteful uneconomical, it is also horrible for the environment. It just leads to more trash build up in the landfills and more litter (That last part fuels the irksome fire behind the pet peeve). This all came about yesterday while at the grocery store. I was being checked out by a lady who seemed nice enough. I said hello, asked how her day was, made small talk while she rang up each item. Then I noticed what she was doing. I guess my demeanor changed, because so did hers. This is no surprise, I have a horrible time hiding my emotions, they usually print themselves right on my forehead. She must have seen the big, blinking ‘Agitated’ sign appear. She had only put two or three things in each bag! I could have maybe understood if my items were delicate, bread or eggs, but they weren’t. I mostly had cans and veggies. And only ten items total. I’m sorry, but what was she thinking?
Even if I wasn’t concerned with the wastefulness of it all, I don’t want to carry 4 bags when I can get away with only carrying one. I don’t think I am alone on that one. As she spinned the rotating plastic bag holder, I reorganized the bags myself. This, I could tell irritated her. Galling the checker wasn’t my intention at all, just as using too many bags probably wasn’t her evil plot to annoy me, but hopefully she learned something from my display. Moral of the story: Self check-out. That and bring your own reusable bags. I try to make that my normal practice, this time I forgot and paid the price.
Filed under: Uncategorized | 1 Comment
Well that sure is true when it comes to my blogging. Welcome to my first Blog!! I am so stoked to be finally entering the mighty world of blogging! I cant tell you with 100% certainty that you aren’t going to enjoy this as much as I am. However, I promise to make it as entertaining as I possibly can! So hold on tight, this may just be a bumpy ride.
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