The Fall Off the Vegan Wagon Was Not As Painful as One Might Think

I know I have not written about my "vegan challenge" since what, the sixth day?  Well, that is because I was riddled with guilt when I fell off the wagon, so to speak, on the eighth day or so.  I tried.  I tried really hard.  But there were two things standing in my way, and that also got in my face.  Cheese and oysters.

Yes, I said cheese and oysters.  When the hubby and I went mushrooming up near Alpine, we got skunked (no shrooms to be found), so we decided to stop in the teeny tavern in the teeny town of Alpine.  Well, lo and behold it was the annual Alpine Oyster feed and Potluck.  We walked in, saw this, looked at each other, and walked back out to the car and came back in carrying the chips and salsa that we never got around to eating that we had brought as a snack.  We were officially in.  We were now part of the potluck.  Hurray!

Tons of smoked oysters with Gouda cheese on top.  BBQ oysters on the half shell.  Oyster shooters.  I just couldn't help myself.  Oh and someone in Alpine makes the best damn cheesecake in the world.  After the cheesecake, I knew I was doomed to be just a lowly vegetarian who occasionally eats non-vertebrae mollusks.

I'm not sure how I feel about this.  In this day and age when everyone seems to have a label for everyone else, I am going to give myself one.  I am officially a "Mollusko-vegi-tarian."  What do you think?