** Disclaimer: I wrote this a few days ago and now it’s especially apropos thanks to Deanna’s recent post. Thanks for the shout out, Dee!**

Okay, so I’m going to get personal.

I have often divulged things about myself that one would consider “personal”. I mean this is my BLOG. I try to strike a balance between the tough stuff I go through and the more typical every day things I find amusing. Today though, I have to tell you, I’m about to get pretty serious.

Let’s back up a little bit first. I HATE to bring up veganism AGAIN, I know, it’s like WHO CARES, EYE ROLL, SHUT UP. But this time, it’s just for a reference point. When I became a vegetarian and then a vegan, I noticed that when deleting meat and cheese from my diet, when it came to my intestinal tract, I had a lot less…control than ever before. (Am I really going to go here right now?! YES. YES I AM.) I don’t know if it had anything to do with my intestinal tract operating at optimum level or the increase in fiber due to more fruits and vegetables or what.

(I’ve been tracking my fiber intake, by the way and as an omnivore, I was taking in about 15-20 grams while now, as a vegan, I intake about 28-40 grams on a daily basis.) It could also be my body not quite enjoying soy. Tofu doesn’t affect me but sometimes after I drink soymilk, I experience a definite increase in…you know…gas. (I’m going to attempt to use different synonyms for this, because it embarrasses me to no end and “farting” sounds crude. My favorite so far is my dad’s twist on it. He calls it “Putt-Putt-ing” as in, “mini-golfing”. You heard that right.)

Let’s speak frankly, shall we? Before giving up meat and dairy, if I had to…pass some gas? There was a way to stifle it or suppress it or quiet it. But then, after going veg, I was no longer able to. I suddenly became someone I didn’t even recognize–someone who was a PUBLIC FARTER. WHO LET IT LOOSE WHEREVER SHE WAS. I couldn’t help it! It came on without warning! I DO NOT KNOW WHY.

I realize I have successfully ruined all chances of finding a husband among this blog readership at this point in time.

I am okay with this.

So I had no control over the flatulence and while we’re on the subject of toilet talk, I also found myself running to the bathroom to expel the contents of my stomach far more often than I did as an omnivore. Don’t get upset or freak out, it wasn’t anything abnormal. It was just more often than usual. (To put it another way, my yoga teacher says that you should be going #2 three times a day. When I heard this, I was like YOU ARE CRAZY. And now? I realize she is not crazy but oh so correct.) But let’s leave feces for another day and talk about gas. The putt-putting.

Now, I’m not saying, I’m walking around AUDIBLY releasing noxious gases into the air on a daily basis without a care in the world. It’s just that every so often, a sound will escape my body and it will startle me and embarrass me and how do you deal with that when you think someone else heard it? Do you say “EXCUSE ME?” and draw attention to it? I mean what if they act confused and say “Excuse me what?” and then you have to come clean and tell the truth. Or do you just ignore it and pretend it was the sound of something else, say, your chair scraping the carpet or the cap coming off your seltzer bottle. What is the proper protocol here IF things were to happen? Not like it did. That’s not the point. BUT IF IT DID?

Now that you know some really super personal information about me and my gastrointestinal tract, I will get to the matter at hand, the serious thing I wanted to tell you, yes you, when I started writing this entry.

When I sat down to write this blog tonight, I realized that I only had one thing to tell you guys. It was a very very important, very serious thing and it has never happened to me before in my life and I just wanted to put it out there in case it ever happens to you. So you can relate. So I can relate to you. I am creating communication you see, reaching out my hand to the universe, to you, to make this world a better place.

You guys?

Last night, I was sleeping. And basically, the story is…

I putt-putted so loudly in my sleep that I woke myself up.

That’s right.

I passed gas so loudly while SLEEPING that it shook my room and caused my heart to temporarily stop and I bolted upright in bed, fearing for my life.

Alas, it was not a bomb. Or an earthquake. Or a serial killer trying to light explosives in the living room.

It was just me and my vegan gas.

I think this is going to be the title of my first book. You’re welcome.