I am thoroughly uncool.

So much of who I am is who I decided to be.  Well, at least partly.  I could write a long tangent about the unseen forces that made me want to be this way in the first place.

I become what I value.  I want to be the kind of person who listens to opera and classical music, who reads a lot of books, who doesn't watch much TV but when she does it's documentaries.  I decided to become a geek, who reads Watchmen and X-Men comics and loves Star Trek (indeed, the appeal of those folks inspired me to start watching science fiction in the first place). I want to be a childfree person who is open about her status.  I want to lead a life guided by ethics, even if that leads to non-mainstream behavior such as eating vegan and not shopping at Walmart.  You get the (pretentious) picture.

Yet there is one part of me that has never been a decision, that I can't reason out with some image of myself I endeavor toward.  Doggies.  It doesn't clash with my ideal self, but it doesn't stem from it either.  It is the one part of my person who just is.  It dissolves the rational intellectual self and detracts from the selected maturity until I am a mushy pile of ohhhh that's cuuuute.

So, in true L.T. fashion, I create a retroactive justification.  I find qualities in dogs that I admire, and just secretly love them because of the wrinkles and underbites and delightful fuzziness.

And the one thing I really, truly admire in dogs?  They are not cool.

I mean this not in the "neat" or "positive" way some tend to use the word, but rather in the meaning that inspired such use.  James Dean. Nothing affects him.  He doesn't get giddy or furious.  He's just . . . cool.  And while that reaction has a time in place, I think we overuse it terribly in our society.

I didn't play it cool when I had a crush on Vinny.  I told him he had a nice butt, told him he was hot, and flirted so shamelessly even he (eventually) got the hint. If it had taken him too long, or if I had been an actual adult and not an 18 year old girl, I would have asked him out directly (instead, it was simply mutual).  When we broke up, I didn't play it cool.  I told him I still loved him, and wanted to get back together often enough that he always knew it was true (but not often enough to be creepy stalker girl, I think).  And yadda yadda yadda, we're happily married.

I don't play it cool with my enthusiasms.  I think that's a big part of being a geek - getting really excited about something and letting the world know it.  How boring life would be if I had to affect a blase air about the latest Star Trek movie premiere.  If I had to pretend in that video of Maho Beach that having a 747 fly right over my head wasn't awesome (it was the utter dorkiness of me in that video that inspired this post). 

So I will be like puppies.  I will tell those I like that I like them, and let me friends know there are very specific and strong reasons that I keep them in my life.  I will share my delight in books, or music, or whatever it is I'm crazy about this week.  And I will embrace all my uncool friends who do likewise, feeding off of each other's geekhood until life is just how I want it to be.

And I will always, always, get down on the floor and play with your dog, even if you thought up to that point that I was a mature professional.  Because there are some parts of myself I cannot, and should not hide.

Kinda, sorta, mostly vegan.

I once knew a 'vegetarian' who ate duck.  (Now, this isn't like one of those faux vegetarians who eat fish, and go around leading everyone to believe that some vegetarians eat fish.  I hate those people.  You don't get to change the definition of vegetarian just because you feel like using the label.)  He was a health-food devotee who found that, on a daily basis, eating vegetarian was the best way to stay healthy.  However, since it wasn't an ethical decision, he made exceptions on rare occasions, especially to try something he has never eaten before, such as duck.  Although he wasn't an actual vegetarian, on a daily basis the label was the best way to get fed what he wanted to eat. 

In some ways, this is the way I use the label vegan.  You see, in my ethical framework, the dairy and egg industries contribute to too much animal suffering, environmental damage, and water waste to make me feel comfortable eating them.  If I had a private chef, I would be vegan all the live-long day.  Yet while I try to be an ethical being, I am only willing to put up with so much inconvenience before I say screw it and chow down on airplane ravioli.  Most of the time this can be avoided with planning (bringing snacks on the plane) or minor sacrifice (skipping dessert).  However, sometimes it can't, and sometimes I just really want that free cookie.

So I describe myself as vegan mostly because it is the best way to get what I plan to eat.  I'm a strict vegetarian, I'd gag if I tried to eat an omelet, and I need soy milk for my coffee, please.  But I'm not pure.  I guess the best way to describe it is I cheat, but only sometimes, and only with some things (or on vacation).

That being said, I am starting to wonder whether the day to day sacrifice is becoming more of a headache than it is worth.  I have taken to going to special sources to get those things that I crave, and are hard to find vegan.  Cookies.  Doughnuts.  Macaroons.  Cupcakes.  Sweet, non-bitter chocolate.  I had made a habit of special-ordering these things, or eating them only while I was near a special shop in Manhattan.

But, quelle beast, they're expensive.  Vegan Cuts offers are often $20 for six cookies, or a small chocolate selection.  And more often than not they're gluten-free, raw, sugar-free, soy-free, taste-free.  I get that we all should be eating healthier, but why have so many vegan companies adopted the idea that every last vegan is some precious, allergy-ridden health freak?  I don't need maca in my chocolate, I don't need superfoods in my cookie.  I just want a cookie, made as delicious as possible without crossing my ethical boundaries.  Not everything I eat has to be crazy good for me.  I'll get that in my smoothies, in my tofu scramble.  If I am having a piece of chocolate, it's a rare treat, not sustinence.

Not only does this result in veganism being more expensive and less tasty, but it makes me feel like I'm the only vegan on the planet who doesn't follow every last health fad.  If some celebrity in Hollywood is talking about her latest gluten-free kick, suddenly my favorite wheat-based cookie is being discontinued.  Vague talks about soy mimicking estrogen?  There goes my favorite soy ice cream from the local shelves (thank god coconut milk ice cream is actually tasty). 

So not only is it less convenient to be a vegan, but I'm starting to really hate anything and everything involved in the vegan food industry.  It's a cause for constant frustration every time I shop.  It seems a silly reason to ponder giving up on veganism, but all this stress can't be healthy.  Right?

I know I won't start pouring milk over my morning cereal or chomping down on Hagen-Daz anytime soon.  Those substitutes are sold at my corner market, affordable and delicious.  Ditto with sour cream, cream cheese, butter, yoghurt, and anything made at home with cheddar and mozzarella.  But what to do about those occasional sweets I crave?  Intellectually I know I can just do without, but when that crave strikes, there I go searching again for a vegan alternative.  And there I go again stuck in the midst of health freaks and faddists.  And so the cycle continues. . .

What should I do?  Keep in mind that I'm unlikely to change my mind about the basic ethics, unless you've done even more research than I have about the egg and dairy industries, and have miraculous new information about them.