Tonight i want to write about how being a vegetarian in a non vegetarian world has affected my thought process. So about 3 years ago I moved from Oregon to Baltimore. In Oregon I was surrounded by lush country land and beautiful wine vineyards. It was an extremely Organic environment. It was an environment I was used to, and definitely took for granite. My best friends were all vegetarian and our favorite restaurant was a vegetarian Bakery/cafe that was about a 30 minute drive into the country to get to. We gladly took this drive several times a week. They made fresh food straight from their garden. Everyone that worked there also lived there and worked the land. They baked fresh bread and all the milk/cheese/butter was straight from their beautiful happy cows. Sound like a dream? It was definitely a reality. Today I live downtown Baltimore, in the smog and hustle and bustle of the city. It’s quite a bit different from Roseburg Oregon where I grew up, and not every restaurant you go to has great vegetarian options. Some none at all. Not to mention the cookouts here consist of meat, meat, meat, and mac n cheese. Not too many people grilling veggie burgers and tofu skewers. Its been a bit of a struggle for me, but also a learning experience.

I quickly learned the lack of vegetarian options and general quality of food once I crossed into the midwest! Boy was that place rough on me. Especially since our moving truck broke down in the middle of wyoming for 5 days. Yeah lets talk about that for a second. At one point my mother and I walked into a diner to get a bite to eat… It was a little sketchy to say the least. Our waitress was straight out of a movie. There were animal heads decorating the walls, and it looked like the only “vegetarian” option was a chicken salad minus the chicken. As I was sitting there afraid to drink the water …Because c’mon where the heck is this water coming from anyway!? A man wearing a (barely) white chef’s apron walked out of the kitchen. This was one LARGE, DIRTY, HAIRY, SCARY man! I pointed my mother in his direction and said “Mom…THAT is the man that is about to make our food!” We quickly made up an excuse about my sister with special needs, that needed us right away. (she really does have special needs, judge us for using her) We bolted.

In that moment I realized that no longer than a year before that, I could have cared less about where my food/water was coming from, or who would be preparing it. Being aware of that is definitely one of the first steps. From that point on I really pay attention to the cleanliness of the restaurant/cook, and the quality of food they present. If your water cup is dirty, what makes you think that your food wont be? Demanding quality is just like demanding Organic. The more we do it, the more available it will be to us. Our bodies are temples and what we put into them determines our quality of life.