Vegetarian...except for full Irish breakfasts

I've been a vegetarian for...I don't know how long. I've never liked meat, and it really never liked me. After I moved out on my own and away from my parents' meat-and-potatoes dinners, I never cooked meat for myself. I'd only eat it when I went out or if somebody cooked it for me.

And then I happened upon a book called "Skinny Bitch" and read it all in one sitting. Gulp. Stopped eating meat cold turkey (no pun intended). Freaked about eating ONLY organic and ONLY local. Spent a long time wandering around the supermarket trying to figure out what I felt right about eating at all.

It's all balanced out now, but it's taken a long time. I will eat clementines in the winter and I will buy non-organic food. And I'll make exceptions to the "no meat" rule under special circumstances. Like if my Mom fries one of the chickens Dad has humanely raised and processed.

Or if I'm in Ireland and this is placed in front of me.

I'm a sucker for bacon and black pudding (a.k.a. blooding pudding).

Don't judge me.

I knew it would happen, but the bacon and puddings really didn't agree with me. Like, in a pretty dramatic way. To the point where Mom and Sheila would raise their eyebrows worriedly and protest a little every time I placed my order for the "full Irish breakfast" with the B&B. Finally, Mom just gave me her whole supply of Tums and told me to shut up when I'd start to groan.

I have a friend who's vegetarian...except for bacon. Another one is vegetarian...except for pepperoni (because pepperoni isn't really meat, she argues). Well, I guess that I'm vegetarian...except for Dad's chicken and full Irish breakfasts. 

And I'm ok with that.