Somos vegetarianas

Folks, this doesn't really have to do with cities or Michigan, but it's an old thing I wrote two years ago when I lived in Spain, and I think it deserves another go. Enjoy!

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Madrid from my terraza

Nearing the end of Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma, aware that I’m about six years behind on this (but when you’re in school there’s no time to read), I’ve just reached the point where the witty journalist refutes the logic and morality of vegetarianism. It comes at a relevant time, when this aspect of my personal culture, along with many others, has encountered intense challenges.

Anxiety in the city

I couldn't eat anything. And my God, I was in New York City. My aunt and cousin had already devoured a pizza from across the street, and we were at a weird diner where people wouldn't stop singing at us and I had in front of me, I kid you not, a salad full of goat cheese. Goat cheese is probably my favorite thing in the world. But I squished it between the tines of my fork and shared a sad look with my mother. The waiters were singing "Proud Mary", and I've had it stuck in my head ever since.

But I never saw the good side of the city / Till I hitched a ride on a riverboat queen

Not my first time in New York. No, friends, I got to the point there a couple years ago where the tourists would ask me for directions in the subway, and I'd give them the right answer (usually) (okay it was only three months but still).