So, this weekend, I went to the only wedding I have enjoyed. My own wedding excluded of course.
Not only did I look kick ass–refer to previous entry describing my sweet little outfit–(which is unusual in that I generally don’t have my dressage planned in advance. I usually wake up with, “Crap. I’ve got a wedding today. What the hell am I going to wear?”.) I met some great people, and had some fan-freaking-tastic food.
Now, under normal circumstances, (read: every other wedding I’ve ever been to) I’d be forced to survive on potatoes and sickly looking carrots/peas/etc, as that is the limit to their vegetarian menu options. Not this wedding. First off, I was able to select the meal of my choice on the RSVP card:
I would like a:
Secondly, the vegetarian entree DIDN’T SUCK. I was, in actuality, the envy of our table. Everyone else had their beige meals, (chicken breast, potatoes, grilled zucchini) and I had a gorgeous bowl of noodles, (rice noodles even) with mounds of red/green/yellow/orange peppers, chickpeas, carrots, zucchini, snow peas, etc. etc. And for dessert, while everyone else had to make do with wedding cake, (suckers) I was treated to a bowl of fresh fruit. FRESH. As in not canned, not syruped to death. Fresh. Pineapple. Blueberries. Strawberries. Raspberries. Mellon. Mango. Papaya. Oranges. I’m salivating just thinking about it.
I find it so funny. People were given the choice, and chose chicken, fish, etc. barely glancing at the vegan option. But last night, everyone wanted to be vegan.
I am slowly converting the planet.