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October 22, 2009

Sometimes I like to nap during a massage and other times I like to talk. Luckily I have found an amazing therapist who understands this. The last few months I have fallen asleep on the table and just barely grunted if she torqued something a little too much during my weekly make my wrist normal session. Yesterday, however, I was chatty as could be.


We were talking about vegetable eaters (of the vegetarian and vegan persuasion) and their proclivity to cheat with, of all things, hamburgers. Having been a mostly good vegan for a few months and an almost vegetarian for months prior, I understand the need to have the kind of wildly inappropriate break from a regimen. It’s akin to soldiers on shore leave. I wanted a lusty hamburger all of a sudden, so I emailed a friend, the Burd, upon my return to the office.

The Burd is a culinary co-conspirator – a lover of food and fun and happy to accompany me to a greasy spoon for an equally greasy burger. I somehow felt the need to tell our waitress that I was going on a bender after 2 months of veganism and I needed a cheeseburger, stat!

She was happy to oblige and even suggested I have it on grilled bread, with sautéed onions and bacon. I then ordered a Guinness. You only die once and I happened to have a few bus tokens in my pocket for Charon, the ferryman – bring on the grease hell!

One quarter of a giant burger, half a Guinness, and about 10 mini packets of saltines later I recalled my talking about her vegetarian friend’s willful slips up with burgers and how she inevitably then pays the price through extreme physical discomfort – I had laughed at that, but I am not laughing now.

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