Change for a Year

Take a year. Change your life.

Month: November 2012

Just How Vegan Are You?

Nothing, it seems, is black and white.  The goal is to be a 100% pure, healthy vegan for a year.  I spent many nights binge-eating my way through McDonalds and packages of Oreos, getting the scale as close to 400 pounds as I dared.  Veganism was the light to help jump start a healthy future, to lead me out of the darkness.  But now I’m learning there is quite a bit of grey.

Continue reading

So … what the hell can you eat, anyway?

Everyone seems to have an opinion about being a vegan. No one seems to quite know what I eat. I must have been asked this question a dozen times over the first days of coming out as a healthy eater.

No meat or dairy?  What do you eat then?  Can you eat eggs? Can you eat bread?

Continue reading

Honey, those Damn Bees, and Justice

I cleaned out my fridge yesterday.  Cheese, yogurt, fish, chicken, ground beef, broccoli and cheddar steamers I’d just stocked up on–all gone.  I was left with nothing except some frozen mixed veggies.  It was a lonely sight.  Then I went to the pantry.  Biggest disappointment: Chunky’s Tomato Soup has milk in.  Sayonara, good friend.  You’ve kept me warm on many a cold night.

Continue reading

The Fattest Vegan on Earth

Change for a year.  Year one.  Pick one thing you want to be, then do it.  Every day.  Every single day for a year.  Simple, isn’t it?

You know that bat-shit crazy old guy always spouting off crazy adventures and stories and times he had.  The one everyone runs into and thinks, “Man, that guy’s life was awesome!”  or at least, “Why the hell won’t this dirty old hippie shut up and let me get my grapes so I can get outta here.” I want to be that guy.  I’m 27 now.  Thirty years from now, changing one thing at a time, one chapter at a time, one year at a time, I could build something pretty nice.  Heck, maybe even one hell of an adventure to boot.

Continue reading

The Green Light

I dreamed of having a heart attack. I imagined not calling for help. I wondered if I could do it, let go of life so easily, simply close my eyes, cheek on the rough carpet, smiling goodbye to that dirty sock that never made the laundry basket–all before I hit thirty. Part of it was sad, I suppose, as any great tragedy should be, but part of it held great romance too. Not now, looking back, but then, certainly. Such is the depressed mind.

Continue reading

© 2017 Change for a Year

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑