Can you believe it’s almost March? I certainly cannot. I am beyond excited for this winter season to be officially over and spring to start blooming. Warm weather means more walking for this Beach Bod Goddess, and that is always a good thing. Walking is the ultimate and most ancient exercise to help us stay in shape. It not only provides a cathartic experience for our mind, but also our body. Forget 8 Minute Abs when excess weight can be melted off from strutting around the neighborhood listening to “I Believe in a Thing Called Love.”

Spring is the season of renewal. Just as the soil is warmed and the scenery becomes a deeper shade of green, our bodies come back to life during these pastel colored months. Personally, after a solid four to five months of winter, I become giddy when I can start walking by the lake and feeling the sun shine on my hair again. After all of these months of feeling held captive from the snowstorms and frozen temperatures outside of my city apartment, I soon will be able to stand outside for more than two minutes without shivering to death. When I need a workout, I will soon be able to strap on some running shoes or rollerblades and feel the easy breezy warm wind on my face.

Let’s take advantage of this next month of winter and make the most of it. We can prepare our bodies for spring by treating them right—now. In the spirit of Lent, no matter what religion you are, this next month is the perfect opportunity to fine tune all of the nuts and bolts that are coming loose in your life and get into high-gear for the delicious chocolate covered months ahead.

The Beach Bod Goddess is either writing, traveling or working up a mean sweat at Bikram. If she is doing none of these things, someone is probably feeding her goddess-self organic grapes off the stem.

image by Danmedhurst.com

I really want to be a part of the OWS movement. I was moved by the idea, but bewildered by its participants. The more meetings I went to, I realized oh, there are people manifesting peaceful protest here. That’s cool. There has always been peaceful protest alongside more aggressive tactics, and the more aggressive usually are the ones that get romanticized in song.

I grew up as a part of the more romanticized version of revolution; you know, guns, cool outfits, sexy strong women burning bras and music! Every major revolution had a soundtrack, and that was the game changer—the tangible piece of the revolution they could take home, party to on Friday night, cook with on Saturday morning, fight to on Sunday evening. You could protest at will. It was lifestyle protesting! Then it hit me: The thing that was always missing from the occupy movement is music! I remember going to the drum circle at zucatti park, but that didn’t do it. I instinctively looked to hip hop but all I see is black barbies, butt cracks, and a dude who abuses women being awarded for his “hard work.” Truth is, hip hop spent the last two decades trying so hard to be part of the one percent that not even the “conscious” rappers can’t still credibly make a protest song. Front line ls to Talib Kwalie over….I guess this thing is not on. Hip hop went from Public Enemy and NWA to Maybach Music. So where is the next song?

Tweet the power?

Over the holidays, my sister tried to convince me Twitter and Facebook are the new protest song; that somehow social networking technology had replaced Joni Mitchell, Bob Dylan and Bob Marley. Even I know a good song has more than 140 characters—who is going to inspire the masses via RTs and DMs?

It sounds crazy, but revolutions at their core are not intellectual at all. It’s a gut reaction when an idea takes hold. An idea that means something to you in a way you can only feel, and not articulate. Music operates on a vibratory level, and so does your molecular structure. Music gets into your bones and shakes stuff up (dancing), and that’s why even deaf people enjoy music. When you put an idea that connects on a gut level, add a melody and rhythm that connects on a vibratory level and a hook that has intellectual connection, well that’s where albums like It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back, Straight Outta Compton, and songs like “The Times They Are A-Changin’,” “Big Yellow Taxi,” and “Say It Loud — I’m Black and I’m Proud” are made. That is moment music.

Fight the Power!

Enter Senegalese hip hop band Y’en a Marre. Their song is literally their battle cry of youth who do not want third term by President Abdoulaye Wade. In their song “Abdoulaye Faux! Pas Force,” or “Abdoulaye, don’t force it, give up!” they name-check the president, old school MC battle style. The weaker MC’s response? The president banned their music and had the members arrested. That of course only makes it sexier. Members of the resistance have said they want to be peaceful but the government is not getting that message.

Now when was the last time an American rapper got arrested for what he believed in? Provided he did not believe in drugs, weapons, pills, grand larceny or possession with intent to sell? The point is, American rappers got so busy trying to buy the dream, they started selling it and are now trapped by it. Contractually. However, hip hop across the world is still seen as a powerful tool. In Dakar, this music has become the glue in the minds of young people. A song that spoke to the feeling of the masses became the war drum of a new generation. The power is in the music.

-Ayinde

Photo Credit: Kate Echle

By Chef Ayinde

Why do I suggest tempeh for the person new Meatless Monday? Tempeh has almost the exact same protein value as fish and chicken. It’s high in calcium, iron and tempeh is a naturally cholesterol-free food, as are all vegan foods. Cooking tempeh is similar to cooking fish and chicken. when done well this dish can satisfy all. Also can be made gluten free.

This recipe first appeared on onegreenplanet.com

Tempeh Picatta
Marinade
3 Cloves garlic pressed
2 Tablespoons dry basil
2 Tablespoon dry oregano
2 Teaspoons fresh thyme
2 Tablespoons chili powder
2 Teaspoons rubbed sage
½ Cup low sodium soy sauce
¼ Cup lemon juice
¼ Cup water
Salt to taste

Tempeh & Picatta sauce
1 8oz package tempeh, filled in to three cuts
2 Tablespoons earth balance buttery spread
1/3 Cup fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons brined capers, rinsed
1/3 Cup fresh parsley chopped
For dredging & frying
½ Cup all-purpose flour, (or Gluten free AP flour)
1 Cup soy milk
½ Cup frying oil

Step 1: To make marinade combine herbs and liquids in a mixing bowl marinade Tempeh for 30-45 minutes for more flavor, marinade longer.
Step 2: Remove tempeh from marinade, dredge (or dip) in milk then coat with flour and shake off excess and set tempeh aside.

Step 3: In a large skillet over high heat, heat frying oil until hot and shimmering, add tempeh, using tongs, flip and cook on either side for 3 minutes. Remove and transfer to a paper towel lined plate. Repeat until all Tempeh is cooked.

Step 4: The Picatta sauce: In a medium skillet over high heat, add Earth Balance melt and stir with whisk until butter is melted. Add lemon juice, stir quickly about 20 seconds Add capers and two tablespoons of the marinade. Remove from heat.

Make it a meal with these complementing side dishes.

Smashed Rosemary Scented Red Potatoes
2 Medium red potatoes
1 Tablespoon oil
1 Tablespoon vegan butter
2 Cloves garlic
1 Teaspoon fresh Rosemary
sea salt

Step one: In a medium sauce pot over high heat bring 3 cups of water with a pinch of salt to a boil. Boil potatoes until potatoes are soft enough to stick fork through. Remove from heat and drain water. And set aside to cool.

Step two: Take potatoes and using the bottom of a saucer smash the potato until flat set aside.

Step three: In a medium skillet over medium high heat, heat oil and butter until hot and shimmering. Add garlic and rosemary to skillet and sauté for about 30 seconds place potatoes in skillet with garlic and rosemary Cook until potatoes are brown and crispy on either side. Salt to taste.

White Wine Braised Baby Bok Choy
¼ cup canola, safflower or corn oil
2 stocks baby bok choy (cut length wise)
½ cup onion (small dice)
2 tsp dry thyme
1 tsp Mediterranean salt
3 tablespoons white cooking wine

Step 1: In a large skillet, heat oil on a medium high heat. Until hot and shimmering. Add onions, sauté until onions start to turn translucent, about 1 minute.

Step 2: Add bok choy turning to coat with oil, add thyme, white wine and salt. Reduce heat to a medium low.

Step 3: Cover pan and allow to-braise for about 2-4 minutes. Remove from heat leave covered. Serve hot.

-Ayinde

"I mean, I basically call my mom every 45 minutes. She picked out my tie."

By Zoe Eisenberg

While out with friends last weekend, a guy started chatting up my room-mate at the bar. She was pretty intoxicated, so I hovered nearby playing the role of over-bearing friend. I know guys hate this; they have to pretend to be nice to me while secretly wishing I would leave them the eff alone so that my drunk room-mate would accept their offer of a drive home without me steering her chardonnay-infused 6-inch heeled self in the other direction, safely away from a seedy back-seat and a chloroform rag.

This Jersey Shoremonger kept bothering my roomie about a ride home (he even made a joke about the chloroform). Poor thing kept saying, “I have to leave with my room-mate,” pointing to me. I could tell she was interested enough not to tell the guy to bugger off, but not interested enough to leave with him. Finally I interjected, “You could just ask for her phone number and oh, I don’t know, take her to dinner or something.”

Oh, that bar rodent loathed me by then. They exchanged numbers and we left him to his buddies, and I’m sure the first thing out of his mouth was “that other girl was a c*ck blocking troglodyte lesbian.” I get that a lot.

My room-mate is newly single, and excited to get into the adult dating world. Not college dating—watching movies on dorm-room futons. Not my most recent style of dating—un-friend-zoning your best friend so that you can make out and still make fart jokes. Adult dating—an awkward occurrence beginning with nausea and sweaty palms, moving forward with dinner and drinks and ending with awkward Are-You-Gonna-Kiss-Me, Am-I-Drunk-Enough-To-Go-Home-With-You moments.

So here is a short, loose list of first date etiquette:

1. Don’t talk about your exes. If it does come up and you can’t skirt around it without seeming shady, only say positive things. Even if your ex was the biggest asshat ever, if you immediately mention that he beat you or she slept with your co-worker at your birthday party, you will seem bitter. Save that for the two month mark, when a sweet pillow-talk session suddenly morphs into a rant about your commitment issues faster than Optimus Prime.

2. Don’t flaunt your weirdness too much. Mention enough to show your unique personality, but not to scare anyone off. For instance, I don’t tell anyone that I write about sex when I first meet them. I find they either assume 1) they don’t want to date or sleep with me because if I write about sex, I must be easy; or 2) they DO want to sleep with me because if I write about sex I must be easy. I am not sure which one is worse. So mention you love dogs, but maybe not that you have 7 sweater-wearing daschunds back at your one bedroom eagerly awaiting your return. Save that until later, when it will just be a lovable quirk, but won’t turn your code-name into “dog girl” between your date and his friends.

3. Don’t make any “rules” beforehand. I know you’re thinking that that is a bit backwards, because here I am laying out rules right now. I am talking about those “No Kissing On First Date” rules, rules about who should pay, if you should go home together, etc. I feel like they make you even more anxious than normal. Just go, and have a good time. Remember not to over-share too much or trash-talk your ex. Don’t trash-talk anyone for that matter; negativity isn’t attractive.

When I was single and dating last summer, I had a favorite sushi place I liked to take my dates. Mostly I like to go there because I have an addiction to sweet potato tempura rolls and mango avocado rolls. But also I like to bring dates there because the atmosphere is so terrible. There are TVs on every single wall. Why do I want to bring my dates there? Because they had to make a serious effort to pay attention to me. It was incredibly easy for them to just watch the television on the wall on either side of me; they had to try hard to maintain conversation. And so did I!

What about you? Any fun first date stories? Stories about being that friend who is constantly c*ck blocking creepers at the bar? I wanna know!

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.

After my father would cut all the nicely formed biscuits, he would ball up the leftover scraps and put it on the pan for himself, saying the oldest always got the Hoe Cake. This, of course, only made me, the youngest, want it more. I then plotted for a time when I was grown and would make my own whole batch of Hoe Cakes that would be all for me!

Photo by: Kate Echle

Serves 6 to 8

What You Need:

2 cups flour, plus extra
1 tablespoon baking powder
1-1/2 teaspoons salt
1 tablespoon nutritional yeast
1/3 cup cold vegan margarine
1 cup unsweetened, plain soymilk or almond milk
1 cup vegan cheddar cheese shreds, divided (Howell suggests Daiya)
1 tablespoon jalapeño pepper, diced, divided
1-1/4 cups onion, small diced

What You Do:

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. In a medium mixing bowl, combine flour, baking powder, salt, and nutritional yeast. Add margarine and combine with flour, using a fork. Add milk and mix with fork. The batter should be sticky to the touch.
Fold in 1/2 cup cheese, 1/2 tablespoon jalapeño, and onions and mix well. On a floured surface, sprinkle on remaining cheese and peppers. Place dough on the surface and roll until dough is covered on all sides by flour, cheese, and peppers.
Using hands, pull 2 to 4 ounce portions of dough (roughly the size of a deck of cards) and roll into a ball. Roll in flour, shaking off excess, and place on a nonstick cooking sheet. Bake for 13 to 15 minutes. Serve warm.

-Ayinde

By Zoe Eisenberg

“It’s f*cking raining here!” is one of the first things I hear from the potty-mouthed punker when I get a hold of her. Calling me from Vancouver, Bif’s deep, throaty croon is as enthralling over the phone as it is pumping out of the speakers in my car.

When you hear terms like “raw food vegan,” and “cancer survivor,” images of shining lithe blondes a la Kris Carr may immediately come to mind. And when you think about a tattooed, grungy punk rocker with a passion for Mixed Martial Arts and a mouth like a truck driver, someone living a straight edge life-style is probably not what you envision. Yet Bif Naked, an Indian- born American-Canadian singer, writer, musician and poet is all of the above, and more.

Bif—whose real name is Beth Torbert—got her start like many musicians do; in a garage band. Yet the singer broke into the mainstream music scene with her 1999 hit “Moment of Weakness,” a Gwen Stefani-esque ballad about those dumb ass decisions we all make when it comes to romance. Bif is quick to open up on the subject of love, noting that she has never dated a vegan, and jokes that she doesn’t believe single datable vegan dudes exist. With two divorces and five ended engagements under her belt, this Juno award winning artist has some stories to tell, and they surface in her music.

“For me, music is an outlet for my poetry,” says the artist, who is currently working on a memoir. Bif writes songs ranging from light hearted and fun, like “Tango Shoes;” to fierce and throaty like “Fuck You 2;” to haunting numbers like “Tell on You” (“Letter to my Rapist”). Yet behind that tough, tattooed, bad-ass exterior is a wealth of warmth, compassion and understanding; Bif comes across as open and honest about herself over the phone as she does in her music. In recent years, the performer has opted out of big rock shows in favor of smaller, acoustic sets, because she found it hard to connect with her audience at the high-energy punk shows. “All I was seeing when I looked out was a mass of cell phone screens, not people, not actual fans.”

Bif currently has 8 albums (2 of which are on the way), including a Greatest Hits montage and a spoken word album called Okenspay Ordway: Things I Forgot To Tell Mommy. “I’m pretty sure the only people who liked that album are me and my mom!” Bif laughs. “I loved it!”

While it isn’t atypical for a cancer survivor to live a straight-edge lifestyle, Bif’s booze and drug free existence came about long ago, when she drank too much on one of her first tours and felt horrible for the rest of the day. “I couldn’t represent myself well, and I was really embarrassed, and I just knew I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t for me,” says Bif. Her raw food diet came about much in the same way—Bif comments that she was eating raw before raw diets were a common mainstream thing.

“A few years back when raw food started getting big, my friend told me ‘hey, you’re a raw foodist!’ I am not really into labels but yeah, that’s the way I eat.” Bif jokes that she is a raw foodist today, but if she decides to brew some Earl Grey tea tomorrow, then all bets are off.

“Honestly I’ve met so many people who think veganism or a raw food diet is just a cover for an eating disorder,” says Bif, when I ask about common held misconceptions on veganism. “But I eat this way because it makes me feel good. Sometimes I don’t understand how everyone doesn’t eat this way!”

In 2007, Bif found a lump in her breast shortly after returning home from her honeymoon with ex-husband, Sports Writer Ian Walker. Bif says that after a 13-month stretch of chemotherapy and radiation, she was never more thankful for her raw food, straight-edge life-style.

“I am pretty certain that if I didn’t eat the way I do, I wouldn’t have beat cancer. I literally would not be alive.”

The one time that Bif did veer away from her raw food diet was during chemo. “I go through stages where I just crave things. For a while, all I wanted to eat was papaya. Now I can’t look at a papaya! But during chemo, all I wanted were yam rolls. Those are definitely not raw.”

While many raw-foodists have kitchens that resemble science labs, you won’t find Bif’s kitchen full of dehydrators and other high-tech culinary gadgets. One kitchen item she can’t live without? “I have a Vitamix that’s so old. I love it! I use it probably twice a day.”

One of the things we strive to do here at iEatGrass is get past many stereotypes commonly held against vegans—you know, that we’re all aggressive and elitist. Bif does not only bypass these misconceptions; she hurdles over them, passing many more on her way.

The animal-lover (watch this funny video of her talking about removing human poop from her pup’s mouth!) used to host a Bodog Fight television show, featuring rough MMA fighters—not exactly the peace-loving persona that usually accompanies most vegans.

On top of her passion for MMA, Bif has over 40 tattoos on her body. One of her most talked about tattoos reads “Survivor,” in large letters across her left arm. But the eery thing about this tattoo—which many assume is a tribute to beating cancer—is that she got it nearly 20 years ago. Bif says her favorite tattoo is an image of the Taj Mahal.

“I know that at first tattoos were sort of like a layer of protection for me. They were a way to make me seem tough. But when I open my mouth that whole cover is blown,” Bif answers. “I am not tough at all!” Cancer survivor? MMA fight host? I beg to differ, Miss Naked—sounds pretty tough to me!

So what’s next for Bif? On top of her two newest albums awaiting release, Bif is taking on some more personal projects. “Right now I’m really focused on my book. After I get the first draft out, I’m gonna go to therapy,” she laughs. “Then I’m going to draft it again. Because right now people would read this and think, damn, that b*tch needs some therapy.”

Don’t we all.

Quick recap! I am preparing for the Tough Mudder, a super crazy obstacle-style challenge designed by British special forces. To prepare for it, I am trying to take on as many new physical challenges as possible. I don’t think there is really any way for me to be prepared for this insane event, unless I fill up a swimming pool with ice-cubes and start splashing through it after work on the reg, or install 30 feet of monkey bars hanging over a huge mud-pit behind my apartment complex. But what I can do is try and challenge myself. Soooo last week my two room-mates and I signed up for this three week boot-camp offer that we found on Groupon.

You know, where someone yells at you while you do a million push-ups, military style. Normally, this would not be my style of exercise. I like running on a trail by myself or zenning out on a yoga mat while the teacher talks about loving and respecting your body. But I figured this would help me gain some strength for the event and get me out of my comfort zone.

Monday night was our first night of boot-camp, which was held in a gymnastics studio for toddlers. The floor was squishy and it was hard for me to focus on anything other than the fact that I really desperately wanted to play on the large trampolines and balance beams shoved against the wall with a sign reading “NO ADULTS ON EQUIPTMENT.” Adults? Surely they don’t mean me…

There were about 40 other girls and 2 men in our boot-camp session, where we ran around like cracked-out children doing 5 different circuits for 45 minutes. Our trainer, Patrick, said this was a leg day. On top of our circuits—180 squats, jump squats, weird humpy butt lifts, etc.—we were instructed to do 50 jump squats between every circuit. I don’t think I have ever done more than 5 jump squats in my entire life. In fact, I don’t think I have done ANY squats since I graduated college, where peeing in the bushes was a regular 2 am occurence. I did the math, and we did somewhere around 500 jump squats. ON TOP of our circuits, which had my legs shaking, and not in a good way.

At one point, somewhere around the 225^th jump squat, I mumbled in Patrick’s direction, “how does it feel to be in a room full of 40 sweating women WHO HATE YOU?!”

Patrick was actually very nice and he didn’t yell at me as much as I would have liked. I’m in boot camp; I want people to yell at me! But he did hold us accountable and make us do more squats if our squats weren’t looking squatty enough.

The morning after boot camp I woke up feeling fine. I was surprised at the fact I wasn’t sore at all! So I went for a run, and then took a yoga class.

And now I can’t walk. I forgot muscle soreness often takes 24 hours to set in.

More boot camp tonight, but hopefully there won’t be a squat in sight.

Weeks Til MudTime: 10

There are a lot of times in life when you look at the person you’re dating and realize you don’t like them like them.  They’re cool and great on paper, but hand drawn butterflies don’t fly. However, we are great at imagining they do. But perhaps you don’t have the courage to go out and catch real butterflies. You think you’re too old or too tired or just plain sick of the hunger games, oops, I mean dating games. Maybe the one you imagine you Like Like is a bit toxic for you; she makes you crazy, but the sex is great, and the arguments are inspiring. You think she’s fiesty, she thinks he’s a jerk, etc. But you like them; you imagine you might even be in love with them. Whoa cowgirl. There is something you should consider:

Good head or good brain?

Sometimes we can get confused by the sex. One of my friends put it gracefully: “while I may be a huge fan of your vagina, I only kinda like you.” Or as my female friend put it: “we hook up all the time but I’ve never met any of his friends.”

Sex is a hell of a drug that nobody can just do. We all catch feelings; it’s like that scene in Harlem Nights where the guys meets Sunshine and two scenes later he breaks up with his wife and leaves his kids.

Della Rees put it best:  “Her _____ is so good if you threw up in the air it would turn into sunshine.” So you have Mr. or Ms. Sunshine at home, and you know something is off, but you never had sunshine of your very own waiting in your cramped apartment. Do you marry Sunshine? Sure.  But Sunshine has a lil coke habit and all your conversations turn into arguments and all of a sudden the Like Like is not so clear anymore. It has been clouded by what’s been there all along: this is not working.

There is nothing wrong with great sex. Quite the contrary; good sex is grounding. It satisfies our most basic needs. In eastern philosophy one would say it simulates our muladara chakra, but that is only the first one if we want kundalini  to rise we have to activate ALL of our chakras to achieve true enlightenment or nirvana—which I’m told is like sex on E times ten. Or in mainstream words, our lovers should stimulate body mind and soul. When these parts are ignored it manifests as boredom.  Some of the best advice comes as pillow talk, when we are too drunk from endorphins and whiskey to be defensive. This is where the real Like Like rears it ugly head and scares the sh*t out of you because it comes so easy and effortless.

Vietnam

There is an old quote that says “we are shaped by our lovers.” More accurately, we are shaped by how our lovers break up with us.  There is something that happens to you when you go through a bad break up. It’s like being at war. More specifically a war you lost and are now suffering severe PTSD from. You watched all your friends die in front of you. Trust took that bullet in the face. True love was demolished by a hand grenade. And the wedding dress and baby names you picked out, two words nobody wants to hear: collateral damage. So when Mr. Right comes talking ‘bout trust, you start twitching. Trust is dead, you saw him die. No better example of this than in the current season of 30 Rock, where Liz Lemon keeps trying to sabotage her good relationship because her bad ones made her scared sh*tless that there may be no such thing as the Like Like, or as adults call it, Love.

Happy Valentines Day.
- Ayinde

Ancient Aztecs used to give their warriors raw chocolate before battle to improve their strength and stamina. It fuels your brain with essential fatty acids, and gives you energy.

And because tomorrow is Hallmark, er, I mean America’s favorite day for romance, I should mention that cacao is a good libido booster, as well—remember the Aztec warriors and their stamina?! It contains phenethylamines and anandamide which stimulate focus, and fire up your serotonin levels and pleasure centers. Also, it gets your blood moving. All of these pay off big time in the bedroom. Again, those wiley Aztecs were onto cacao’s bedroom boosting effects. They often gifted cacao as wedding presents.

It is important to note that chocolate and cacao are NOT the same thing. Chocolate is made from cacao and while it is delicious, it is highly processed and pumped full of junky fillers like sugar and dairy.  So don’t go hitting a Hershey bar and expect it to amp up your brain function, or do anything other than give you a sugar high.

You can get raw cacao at small health food shops, your local Whole Foods or online. I like to put cacao powder in my smoothies, and throw cacao nibs in with some nuts for a healthy mid-afternoon nosh.

How do you enjoy this sexy superfood?

Is this something people really do?

By Zoe Eisenberg

Yeah, you can’t write a dating column and not address the romantic abomination that is Valentine’s day. Okay, maybe that is a bit dramatic, but I am sort of a cynic when it comes to Valentine’s day. I think the idea behind it is good—celebrate the person you love! But I hate that we’ve been pigeonholed into doing it on a particular day of the year, almost as much as I hate the heavy stink of consumerism that hangs over this Hallmark invented holiday.

The day puts a lot of pressure on everyone involved. For singles, it can remind you of the fact you aren’t paired up–as if your mother doesn’t remind you every.time.she.calls. For those of us in relationships, it makes us feel obligated to buy gifts for each other, and then it takes away the ooey-gooey oh you shouldn’t have factor that makes receiving and giving a gift so great. It actually requires us to be “romantic” while at the same time evaporating all sense of romance from the act.

 My favorite gifts are things picked up and delivered on a whim, “just-because” style. But V-day puts pressure—mostly on the man, sadly enough—to buy a gift or go to a fancy dinner just because everyone else in America is doing it too. And when you’re doing something because you feel that you should, well that’s not very heartfelt, is it.

In light of that, here are a handful of ways to celebrate V-day, whether or not you’re riding a bicycle built for two.

3 Things to Do on V-Day

1. Spread the Love
I wish we didn’t narrow Valentine’s day to just our significant others—especially because so many people are single and may not like to be reminded. So this v-day, love up on everyone that is important to you. Give HOMEMADE v-day cards to your friends, 4^th grade style, and call your parents and family members to send some love their way. Have any friends flyin’ solo who you know may be bummed out about it? A supportive phone-call or note can mean a lot when you’re feeling alone. And don’t forget to love yourself! Whether or not you’re in a relationship, give yourself some attention. Take that yoga class, buy a massage, head home on your lunch break for a quickie with yourself. Hmmm what?

2. Get in the Kitchen
Screw eating out on V-day. The prices are jacked, the restaurants crowded, and you will feel awkward lingering at your table when your waitress is glaring at you because hungry people are busting through the doors to get at your seat. Grab a bottle of vino and cook up a meal instead, for a lover, a friend, or just yourself.

3. Gift it Right
Nothing is worse than a cheesy, stereotypical gift, and Valentine’s day gifts are  the worst offenders. Plush teddy bears, over-priced and over-rated roses, heart-shaped chocolate boxes and necklaces…gag. If you want to give someone a gift (and that someone can definitely be yourself…) do what you would do on any other day of the year. Use some ingenuity and come up with something personal. I would rather collect memories than trinkets, so I like event-style gifts, like concert tickets or staycations. Also sex. One of the best gifts is a few uninterrupted hours in the bedroom. With busy schedules, this is a luxury not everyone indulges in.

How do you celebrate Valentine’s day? I wanna know! Ooh, also, be sure to check out my contest over on SexyTofu. I am giving away a 6 month membership to vegan culinary portal Spork Online, put out by the saucy sister duo Jenny Engel and Heather Goldberg, authors of Spork-Fed. All you have to do to win is leave me your best pro or anti V-day rant in the comments section!

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.