I couldn't quite wait for the new year to make my resolutions this year. Instead, I decided to pile some life changes on top of my move to Massachusetts.
When I moved to Chicago last year, I quit smoking, cold turkey.
Since I'd been a smoker for years (and years. Ugh.) that was no small feat. But the change of scenery was what made it work. I smoked my last butt the night before Amaru and I piled into the car and headed to Chicago. A new place with new routines, that's what it took for me. I have not had a single puff since.
Since I'd been a smoker for years (and years. Ugh.) that was no small feat. But the change of scenery was what made it work. I smoked my last butt the night before Amaru and I piled into the car and headed to Chicago. A new place with new routines, that's what it took for me. I have not had a single puff since.
So when we decided to move back east, I thought it'd be a good idea to leave a few more old habits behind me. Only this time, it would be on a more temporary basis.
So I gave up meat. And new clothes. Two things I love, dearly. For one year, I vowed to go veggie and to ditch my retail addiction. Yikes.
Amaru and I had already majorly cut down our animal consumption. For ethical reasons, health reasons, and environmental reasons, it just seemed to be a good idea to skip meat a couple times a week. I had also vowed not to eat meat if I didn't know where it came from. Which was a little tougher in practice than in theory. At home, sure, I stocked the freezer with organic/free-range/grass-fed/antibiotic-free varieties, but at restaurants? Much harder to know my meat's origins. And it turned out that despite its trendiness, meat from healthy, happy, local animals is still really hard to come by.
So in Mass., I vowed to be meat-free.
In Chicago, I'd also started paying more attention to where my clothes were coming from. I don't mean from Gap or Old Navy or H&M. I mean like where they were actually from.
China. Vietnam. Bangladesh.
You get the picture.
I'm not really thrilled with that idea. I don't claim to be an expert on social or economic issues. But I know enough to know that conditions in sweat shops are no good for the humans working in them. And that stuff made for pennies overseas hurts our domestic manufacturing industry (what little is left).
Anywho, this isn't meant to be all preachy. I just figured that since I got so thrift-happy in Chicago, and since I was moving across the country yet again without a job and without a ton of savings, it might not be a bad idea to really go all out and vow to buy only recycled clothing for an entire year. So that's just what I decided to do.
I had my last hoorah(s) in late September. I grabbed a cute scarf at Old Navy with an old merchandise credit card, my last purchase from one of my favorite cheapo clothing stores. And then on September 30, I introduced Amaru to my favorite hometown biker bar and rib joint, Dinosaur Barbecue. Hands down the best barbecue on the whole frickin planet (not biased at all here). I piled my plate high with pulled pork and dug in for my own last supper.
After Oct. 1, no more piggies. And I limited myself to buying Goodwill, Salvation Army, and consignment clothing only (hand-me-downs and gifts are allowed too!)
So here we are three months later, and I'll tell you, it's been tough. And not quite what I expected. Of my two pre-New Year's resolutions, one has been killer, but doable, and the other has been a little easier to get used to, in terms of forging a new routine, but I've decided it's not for me, and it won't be joining me in the new year.
Can you guess which one?
Amaru and I had already majorly cut down our animal consumption. For ethical reasons, health reasons, and environmental reasons, it just seemed to be a good idea to skip meat a couple times a week. I had also vowed not to eat meat if I didn't know where it came from. Which was a little tougher in practice than in theory. At home, sure, I stocked the freezer with organic/free-range/grass-fed/antibiotic-free varieties, but at restaurants? Much harder to know my meat's origins. And it turned out that despite its trendiness, meat from healthy, happy, local animals is still really hard to come by.
So in Mass., I vowed to be meat-free.
 |
| via |
China. Vietnam. Bangladesh.
 |
| via |
 |
| via |
You get the picture.
I'm not really thrilled with that idea. I don't claim to be an expert on social or economic issues. But I know enough to know that conditions in sweat shops are no good for the humans working in them. And that stuff made for pennies overseas hurts our domestic manufacturing industry (what little is left).
Anywho, this isn't meant to be all preachy. I just figured that since I got so thrift-happy in Chicago, and since I was moving across the country yet again without a job and without a ton of savings, it might not be a bad idea to really go all out and vow to buy only recycled clothing for an entire year. So that's just what I decided to do.
I had my last hoorah(s) in late September. I grabbed a cute scarf at Old Navy with an old merchandise credit card, my last purchase from one of my favorite cheapo clothing stores. And then on September 30, I introduced Amaru to my favorite hometown biker bar and rib joint, Dinosaur Barbecue. Hands down the best barbecue on the whole frickin planet (not biased at all here). I piled my plate high with pulled pork and dug in for my own last supper.
 |
| The Dino |
 |
| Hell yeah. |
After Oct. 1, no more piggies. And I limited myself to buying Goodwill, Salvation Army, and consignment clothing only (hand-me-downs and gifts are allowed too!)
So here we are three months later, and I'll tell you, it's been tough. And not quite what I expected. Of my two pre-New Year's resolutions, one has been killer, but doable, and the other has been a little easier to get used to, in terms of forging a new routine, but I've decided it's not for me, and it won't be joining me in the new year.
Can you guess which one?
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment