“I have something to tell you Mom. I’ve been nervous to tell you …I’ve waited a whole month just to make sure. Essentially, I’m vegan.”
“Oh my god, I thought you were going to say you’re pregnant.”
I looked out the window at the classic rainy night sky as we left the Sea-Tac Airport thinking about what I had said. Yeah, I see what you mean. Just like that, with a five and a half hour flight and two suitcases, I was home for the foreseeable future. It felt like every other trip home in that stage except there was talk about the future; buying a car, getting a job, and finalizing college plans.
In the first month home, I caught my mom trash talking me online. I don’t know why she didn’t think I would see it, she commented on this picture about vegans being weird on facebook. She essentially was like, “Omg, same *stupid emoji* My daughter came back with two nose rings and blue hair!!” Since this is my narative I get to defend my fashion choices, I had two small hoops on my right nostril and hair that was black blue. I thought I looked fricken cute but apparently coming home vegan and blue haired was too much.
It’s funny how so shortly after I moved how differently I presented myself. Most of the time I was in Maui I had white blonde hair then I suddenly dyed it black, thank you box dye for the blue hair. Granted, I dyed my hair black because I had gotten a hefty speeding ticket so my bleach money went to Maui County instead. My new coworkers, when stalking me online, could not for the life of them believe that I was blonde or that I am really good at makeup since I never wore makeup to work or school. Who has time for that with an 8:30am class in the mix? The cherry on top, I had like five things to wear for the impending winter. I was constantly wearing this cable knit green sweater with Doc Martens that I’m fairly sure weren’t waterproof anymore. I was trying to save all my money to travel so the sweater, shoes and my cold toes were forced to work together.
I sincerely enjoyed making coffee when I was in Maui, so I decided to apply to coffee stands. It made sense, I had relevant work experience and I, not to toot my own horn, am very good at making coffee. It was a genuine passion of mine, I went to the local roasters to learn about coffee and spent hours perfecting different techniques. I ended up getting a job at Crusin’ Coffee but coffee there, Yakima in general really, is not nearly as satisfying since perfecting a drink isn’t the goal so much as getting an injection of energy through sugar and caffeine. It’s a job with flexible hours and close to school so I can’t complain too much. It’s also satisfying to do latte art for the girls’ coffees and they act like I did a magic trick, even if it turned out wonky. Much to my mother’s delight, they don’t allow nose rings.
Adjusting was a struggle, so many things had changed yet were the same enough to make the changes just slightly maddening. I drove a car with a smaller windshield. I couldn’t wear most of my clothes anymore. I rarely was relaxed enough to blast emo music while tinkering away with makeup. No Whole Foods to get the specialty items I like.Coffee wasn’t the same either.
Reality was setting in, my life felt like a series of bowling pins being juggled and this was the part where they were all in the air after a couple new ones were added in. The tensing in the crowd to see if the juggler would catch all the pins was my life, do I catch them or does something fall? Did it matter if a pin fell?
Ashley Grace 