“Fall Is”: A Poem by Rachel Marsh

Fall Is…

Fall is natural beautyFall

Fall is red trees.

Fall is bon fires.

Fall is s’mores.

Fall is roasted marshmallows.

Fall is mountains.

Fall is Sunday afternoon football with friends!

Fall is acorns.

Fall is pumpkin patches.

Fall is corn mazes.

Fall is cozy evenings at home.

Fall is trendy boots and flannel.

Fall is chili.

Fall is going to Starbucks with a good book.

Fall is pumpkin lattes.

Fall is sleeping with the windows open.

Fall is camping.

Fall is hiking.

Fall is chattering teeth.

Fall is warm hot chocolate.

Fall is hoodies.

Fall is toasty sweaters!

Fall is romantic chilly walks.

Fall is hot cinnamon apple cider.

Fall is warm socks.

Fall is snuggling.

Fall is crunchy leaves.

Fall is pink cheeks.

Fall is holiday anticipation.

Fall is fireplaces.

Fall is red wine.

Fall is a second glass of red wine.

Fall is screw it, the whole bottle of red wine.

Fall is accidentally passing out on the couch.

Fall is miserable hangovers from all that damn red wine.

Fall is all of the flowers dying.

Fall is mice coming into your house.

Fall is not liking camping, actually.

Fall is so many frickin’ leaves to rake.

Fall is being too old to jump in the pile of leaves.

Fall is burning the crap out of your tongue on hot chocolate.

Fall is not giving a shit about football.

Fall is your coworkers not being able to discuss anything except football.

Fall is one step before winter.

Fall is a great reminder that you’re still single.

Fall is the onset of Seasonal Affective Disorder.

Fall is wondering why all of the malls have started decorating for Christmas already.

Fall is trying to get that musty storage smell out of your winter clothes.

Fall is remembering how annoying scarves are around your neck.

Fall is fake holidays that we celebrate anyway, like “Black Friday,” or “Columbus Day.”

Fall is pumpkin spice-sponsored cavities.

Fall is what the hell am I going to be for Halloween this year?

Fall is stupid kids ruining your evening with their trick-or-treating.

Fall is the looming family-infiltrated holidays ahead.

Fall is getting fat from the holiday carbs.

Fall is remembering how much you hate pumpkin beer.

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Being a Vegetarian Is Harder Than It Looks

I had the most disappointing sandwich of my life today.

I went to a luncheon for work (at the Boathouse, by the way), where, in addition to collective networking and a panel of educated speakers, they supplied a full spread of gourmet lunch buffet.

Perfect. Delicious. I’m famished.

I found a seat, did some of that networking thing, then made my way up to the buffet. I got a little bit of regular salad, a handful of grapes, and an apple. Then I approached the sandwich section of the buffet. My initial thought: whew. What a relief. They have a vegetarian option.

“Whoa, back up,” you’re thinking. Because you might be doing the Cha Cha Slide. Or, perhaps, because you didn’t know I was a vegetarian.

“You’ve never talked about it, bragged about it, or tried to convert me,” you’re also thinking. Because you might be talking to a friend who you just learned is a Scientologist. Or because you never knew I was a vegetarian.

Rewind 12 years ago. I was a senior in high school and I decided to try out the whole “not eating meat thing.” I wanted to see how hard it would be, and if I felt any different. After all, I wasn’t buying my own groceries or cooking for myself, so what better time to try it? (Sorry again, Mom)

Turns out, it wasn’t hard at all and I felt really good.

And so I just never got around to stopping.

It’s not a particularly profound or interesting story. But that’s exactly what happened.

So, fast forward 12 years later. I’m at the Boathouse, being a professional at a professional work event, relieved and, might I say, rather excited, about this vegetarian-option-wrap that they’ve provided.

And then I started to eat the wrap.

I think it would be easier to explain it in ratio form.

  • 80% whole wheat wrap
  • 9% dry cucumbers
  • 7% withered red peppers
  • 4% hummus

Leaving 0% for flavor, in case you were keeping track.

Was I disappointed? Yes.

Was I surprised? No.

In my 12 years as a vegetarian, I’ve had my shares of letdowns.

When I first experienced a vegetarian-related disappointment (discrimination), I was in my freshman year of college. My grandparents took me and my cousins to Florida to visit our great-aunt and great-uncle. The first night there, they had packed a picnic dinner to enjoy on the beach. But, missing the memo that I was a vegetarian (or that vegetarians exist, I guess), they served us fried chicken, ham, mini turkey sandwiches, and potato salad with bacon bits (chopped into tiny damn unpickable pieces).

That night for dinner, I had a bag of baby carrots and a sandy pecan cookie.

Vegetarianism: 1, Rachel: 0.

The next incident of vegetarian-related disappointment (discrimination) occurred my sophomore year when I studied abroad in Guatemala. Overall, every restaurant had been pretty accommodating when they found out they had a vegetarian on their hands. But in this particular situation, we had all sat down for lunch, and were one by one receiving our meals. Everyone’s looked amazing: thick tortillas, handmade guacamole, steaming rice, black beans, and mounds of white chicken. Assuming mine would be the same as everyone else’s minus the meat, I was hungrily anticipating what was to come.

Imagine my disbelief when the chefs (who perhaps didn’t know what a vegetarian was?) sent out a plate piled high with nothing but shredded iceberg lettuce.

Vegetarianism: 2, Rachel: 0.

The last example I’d like to give of vegetarian disappoi– no, it’s discrimination. I’m just going to say it. The last example occurred a few years ago, while I was working full time at a local nonprofit. As with any nonprofit, we had a few annual fundraisers to keep our organization…well, nonprofit. On this particular day, we were holding a golf tournament. All of the board members and directors (ie everyone responsible for my salary) were there, and, as one of the few staff members present, it was looking to be a very hectic day.

We had an early catered lunch before the tournament, which was great because I. Was. Starving.

But who was catering, you ask?

Outback Steakhouse, of course.

There’s no need to go into the gritty details, but, in no mood to go hungry for the rest of the day, I ended up piecing together all of the meat-free foods in an innovative manner that would only make a 7-year-old or stoner proud, through the means of a Lays potato chip sandwich.

I sat down with a group and started eating, hoping no one would notice or say anything. Unfortunately, everyone noticed; but based on the seething look I gave the first person who made a comment (“Boy, you just eat what you like, don’t you!”), no one else dared to make fun of my lunch, and I was properly fueled for the rest of the day.

Vegetarianism: 3, Rachel: 0, Guy Who Made Fun of My Sandwich and Avoided Me for the Rest of the Day: -1.

So, in conclusion, I’d like to dedicate this post to all of you vegetarians out there.

For those times that your friends suggest meeting up at a barbecue restaurant for dinner.

For those times that someone at the potluck adds bacon to a previously vegetarian dish.

For those times that people ask you how you live without Chick-fil-A.

For those times that you have to check soup label ingredients for chicken or beef stock.

For those times you have to admit that tofu actually isn’t all that good.

For those times on Thanksgiving when…well…mashed potatoes just don’t cut it.

For those times that the only thing on the menu for you is a side salad and French fries.

For those times that you get a stomach ache from too much hummus.

For those times that the vegetarian option is a dry wrap with wilted vegetables inside.

For all you vegetarians…this one is for you.

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Farewell, Crossroads

Well, friends and readers, the day has come. I’ve found a full time job. Which means a whole lot of things, but one of them is that I’ll have to quit my part time job at Crossroads Coffee and Ice Cream.

In all my experience in the service industry, this has easily been the most consistently laidback position I’ve ever worked. I’m going to miss the coworkers, the laughs, and above all, the free coffee. But what I’ll miss more than anything are the regulars.

A 14-year-old coffee shop located in the middle of a neighborhood on a high-traffic road is bound to bring in a lot of regular customers. I would like to take this time to commemorate each of them, but, to protect their privacy from my high profile blog, I’m just going to refer to all of the regulars by their orders instead of their names.


Cinnamon Raisin Bagel with One Egg Patty and a Side of Grape Jelly

I don’t really understand your breakfast preferences but you are the smiliest person I’ve ever met and are the only white person in my current life who calls me “Miss Rachel.”

Large Iced Coffee in a 24-oz Tervis Tumbler with Refill

This time two years ago, if someone had asked me if it was possible for someone to drink that much coffee in the span of 15 minutes, I would have said no. Thank you for showing me that anything is possible.

Large Coffee and a Cinnamon Chip Scone

It’s pronounced “scone.” NOT “SCON.”

Small Coffee with a Fruit and Yogurt Parfait

You’re shy and sweet and smile a lot, and you always insist on buying something you could just make at home. I will miss our brief interactions, many of which consist of me commenting on your scrubs.

Large Nonfat Decaf Latte

What’s the point?

Egg Sandwich on a Croissant with Pesto

Thank you for the weird cartoon you drew me last year, acknowledging how much you enjoyed the sandwich I made.

Pork Rinds

Hey, lady, I saw you sneaking pork rinds into Crossroads every day. And not buying anything. And getting mad at me whenever I ask you not to bring in outside food because it’s a health code violation. I sure am going to miss you. And your crazy eyes. And your bigoted conversations about gay marriage.

Everything Bagel with Vegan Cream Cheese and Avocado

It took me forever to realize…

Egg and Cheese Sandwich on Wheat Bread

…that you two were married.

Large Mocha Smoothie with Whip

I’m sincerely sorry that you dislike your job as a teacher so much. I’m sorry that you have a classroom ratio of 30:1. I agree that the education system is really screwed up. I agree that teachers are treated poorly and severely underpaid. But please stop complaining to your baristas. And for gosh sake’s, tip them once in awhile.

Small Iced Mocha

I look forward to the day when I too can retire and spend my afternoons on the patio of a local coffee shop, wearing Hawaiian shirts and drinking cold beverages.

Large Vanilla Chai Smoothie with Whip

I thought you were kind of strange and then I read a local article about you and how you used to fly Black Op helicopters for the army, so now I’m too intimidated to talk to you.

Egg Patty on Gluten Free Bread with a Dry Almond Milk Cappuccino

You are a person that knows what you like, and I have to admire that about you. But please get yourself acquainted with some seasonings. Or some condiments or something.

Southpark Tie Guy

I couldn’t categorize you by your order because you’re wildly inconsistent, but let me just say that your ability to turn any karaoke song into a show tune is something in my life I never thought I would see.


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Farewell, Crossroads. And an extra special farewell to its regulars. You guys drove me crazy and kept me sane all at the same time.

Or was that the constant over-consumption of caffeine?

Dogsitting

This week, my mother is out of town for some important media trip, and has asked me to dogsit for her.

Which is a task I dread every time I have to do it. And I want to be a good daughter, because she raised me and still supports me and has been there for me when I’ve needed her and blah blah blah. But every time she asks, I cross my fingers for an excuse not to do it because frankly, dogsitting for her is a fate I wouldn’t bestow upon anyone.

 

  • First of all, the best part about housesitting or dogsitting for anyone is raiding their snacks. But everything she has is so gosh darn healthy, I don’t even know what to do with it.

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  • In fact, I can barely find any space to put my REAL food.

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  • Okay, but no big deal. As long as she has coffee, I’ll be fine.

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But…a jigsaw coffeemaker!?!?

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But who invented this
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Maybe if just shut it really hard
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Maybe it just figures it out itself
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Maybe I’m thinking about it too much
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Close…
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…enough.

 

  • Oh and another thing. My mom has one of those iSmartAlarm alarm systems, so she’s alerted whenever a door or window has been opened. Therefore she knows whenever I get home at night, whenever I get up in the morning, and if I’ve stayed out all night partying without coming back to feed the dogs.

 

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It’s like dogsitting for Big Brother.

 

  • And I can’t even try to get anything done with this face looking at me the entire time.