I present you with my heart, and also this parsley bouquet. (Image from Ecorazzi)
One of my most discussion-inducing posts here on TLV was a long lament on the lack of vegan men titled “But Really, Where Are The Vegan Men?” To summarize, I was wondering if all of the single “normal” vegan men were congregating on a commune somewhere in Idaho, because I only know two and both of them are iEG staff (whaddup Ayinde and Andrew!)
Most of the commenters were either women agreeing they can’t find any suitable veg dudes, or men irritated at my use of the words “normal” and “weird.” (Also one dude really got mad at my incorporation of Ryan Gosling memes. Mmmmn, Ryan G-g-gosling.) Anyway, I have been thinking on it ever since. Why? Because I misused the word weird. I f*cking love weirdos. I am not exactly “normal” myself, but what is normal anyway? SO I want to further explain what I meant by “weird.”
For those of you who didn’t read that post, here is the paragraph I am referring to:
“All of the vegan men I have met (and I mean actually met, not just playful banter on Twitter) are either taken or weird. Like “oh, you own a computer? Well computers aren’t vegan. Now let me go harvest my wheatgrass which I have watered with my own tears,” weird.”
I didn’t mean weird here. I’m taking that back. True weirdism is not being afraid to be yourself or think differently. Weird means getting over our culture’s addiction to doing what other’s expect. By being vegan, most of us fall into that category anyway.
I love weird. On any given evening you can find me singing to my cat, Zucchini, who I grossly and nonsensically refer to as Little Baby Fetus Face and/or Snitchity Snatch. My bedside table is stuffed full of rejected sex toys that I didn’t want to review on my Stuff I Get Off On column because, well, I didn’t get off on them. Uhm…I also am obsessed with my boyfriend’s body odor, to the point I sleep with one of his rank shirts under my pillow.
SO you see I am not pointing fingers at those who march to their own drum. What I meant to say is that many of the vegan men I have met are what I would like to call “socially aggressive,” or “combative.” They have been heartbreakingly judgmental and unforgiving, like the vegan dude I met at a music festival who claimed I’m not a “real vegan” because I drive a car. And if they aren’t aggressive or combative then they live in a homemade yurt. This kind of crunchtastic weird is awesome, but probably won’t make them compatible with all of the women who want to, I donno, live in a home with running water.
Additionally, Many women wouldn’t find a socially aggressive vegan male to be a compatible partner—I know I wouldn’t. Unless of course, the lady is also aggressive herself. I know many vegan women (and omnivores, too!) can also be socially aggressive and combative, but because there are so many less vegan men, they seem to be concentrated. This is what I meant by “weird,” and so when I wondered where all of the “normal” vegan men are, I meant guys who are typical dudes, with hobbies and jobs and, oh yeah, they’re vegan. Do you smell what I’m stepping in?
So for any of you vegan men who read that article and went, “Shit! I’m weird. No one will date me ever!” please forgive me. That was not what I meant. And to all of you who walk around harassing bumbly awkward vegan girls at music festivals about whether or not their sandals are pleather, shame on you! Chill out in your hemp-shorts, why don’t you?
The Lusty Vegan is a lifestyle and sex column focusing on living and loving as a twenty-something year old vegan. More rants from Zoe Eisenberg can be found at www.sexytofu.com. Follow her on Twitter @Sexytofublog
