1. Go shopping.
That's it. Go shopping. Anywhere. For anything.
Everything comes in ballistic packaging that is nearly impossible to open, and it almost always accompanied by yards of receipt paper.
I almost always have reusable bags on me. I have grocery sized bags that fold and zip into medium-ish pouches that I keep in my car. I have medium sized bags that fold up and fit into smaller bags that I carry around in my everyday bag. I am a veritable bag lady! I am making an effort to be green.
Sometimes my efforts are thwarted, usually by sales associates that just don't get what I am trying to do. Associates that rush to used 9685723645 plastic bags for the ten things I want to buy. Associates that look at me like I am speaking a foreign language when I tell them I brought my own bags. Associates who I am clearly inconveniencing beyond belief when I actually ask that they use my one bag for not only my purchases, but (when we check out separately) my husband's as well. What am I thinking with my outlandish demands?!
I digress.
The other day I went and bought myself new earrings. Cute little star shaped cz's in little white gold settings. They came on a card in a little box. Great! Relatively minimal packaging! This was ideal, since I knew I wasn't going to keep anything but the earrings.
After the sales associate rang up my sale, I said to her, "It's all right, I don't need a bag."
Her reply?
"Ohhh, I'm going to give you a bag. Even though it comes in a little box, I'm going to give you a little bag."
Hm. I asked if I needed the bag, since some places don't like when you check out at the jewelry counter or electronics counter or somewhere else within the store and then traipse out the exit looking like the most confident shop-lifter in history. She didn't answer me. She just handed me my little earrings on their little card in the their little box in their (unnecessary) little bag. And then handed me the longer-than-the-bag receipt, detailing how much the earrings should have cost, how much they actually cost, and how much I saved, and then the shorter, second receipt detailing my debit card transaction.
Are you freaking kidding me?!
First of all, I did not need all of that information. The only details of importance were how much I had spent and with what method I paid.
Secondly, I got in our car, put my earrings in, and immediately had more trash on hand than I generally produce in an entire day at work. And that was after trying to be environmentally conscious.
If that's what I got for trying, it boggles my mind to think of what happens when people just don't care and make no effort!
Anyway, next time you go shopping and bring your own bag, and I hope you have a greener sales associate than I did. Because if those of us who are trying to help out our beautiful Earth, stop, then the terrorists have won.
Or something like that.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
I got a new alarm clock today.
This is not earth shattering news.
This isn't even blog-worthy news, really.
Our old alarm clock sucked, so a friend gave us his old one when he got himself a new one. What he failed to make us understand was the fact that the display on his old alarm clock was BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. This makes sleeping difficult if you are facing the alarm clock even a little bit. It was bright enough that you could just about read by it. I already have trouble sleeping at night, so this new celestial body next to my face did not help. And, for the record, we kept it on the less-bright of the two settings. There was a setting that was EVEN BRIGHTER!!! It lit up the entire room, no exaggeration.
Some diabolical alarm clock designer somewhere must have decided that one sun was not enough for this nice planet of ours. So they made a second one, trapped it in a nice looking piece of electronics, and only had it be noticeable while unsuspecting people were trying to sleep. There is no other reasonable explanation.
Anyway, Joe and I finally bought a new alarm clock. It's blue, which makes me happy. It plays and charges my iPhone, which makes me happy. And the display has three brightness settings, the darkest of which is juuuust bright enough to make out the time in a dark room.
Unfortunately, it will still wake me up way before I am ready, and on a daily basis. Oh well. Necessary evil.
This isn't even blog-worthy news, really.
Our old alarm clock sucked, so a friend gave us his old one when he got himself a new one. What he failed to make us understand was the fact that the display on his old alarm clock was BRIGHTER THAN THE SUN. This makes sleeping difficult if you are facing the alarm clock even a little bit. It was bright enough that you could just about read by it. I already have trouble sleeping at night, so this new celestial body next to my face did not help. And, for the record, we kept it on the less-bright of the two settings. There was a setting that was EVEN BRIGHTER!!! It lit up the entire room, no exaggeration.
Some diabolical alarm clock designer somewhere must have decided that one sun was not enough for this nice planet of ours. So they made a second one, trapped it in a nice looking piece of electronics, and only had it be noticeable while unsuspecting people were trying to sleep. There is no other reasonable explanation.
Anyway, Joe and I finally bought a new alarm clock. It's blue, which makes me happy. It plays and charges my iPhone, which makes me happy. And the display has three brightness settings, the darkest of which is juuuust bright enough to make out the time in a dark room.
Unfortunately, it will still wake me up way before I am ready, and on a daily basis. Oh well. Necessary evil.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
I bet you didn't think you'd read a blog post about poop today.
My husband and I have two dogs.
Otter, our beagle:
and Willy, our miniature dachshund:
Walking them is an adventure, especially when we are not in our own backyard, but for today I will focus on just one oddity of Otter's.
Our yard is not fenced in. This makes leashes a necessity, particularly for Otter. Beagles love to follow their noses, and this makes him a definite flight risk. Otter's leash is a normal, six foot leash that lets him go far enough away to explore some of the weird and gross things he finds interesting, but not so far that we can't keep him out of trouble (or piles of cat poop).
This six foot separation is not up to his standards. Whenever he finally picks the perfect place to go about his business, it is, without fail, roughly one arms length PAST the end of the leash. He can't face you either, because I guess he thinks that invades his privacy. He likes to have his side to you, if not his rear end. This results in him dragging me along the yard until he finally chooses the prime location, and then me taking one step closer to him so my shoulder does not become dislocated.
From afar, this must look like I just want to get closer to the action. That would also make me look like a crazier person than I probably am.
But he is my dog, and I am his person, so I will deal with this weirdness in exchange for the smiling and tail-wagging with which he is so generous.
And at least he doesn't eat his own poop like Willy. But that is another story.
Otter, our beagle:
and Willy, our miniature dachshund:
Walking them is an adventure, especially when we are not in our own backyard, but for today I will focus on just one oddity of Otter's.
Our yard is not fenced in. This makes leashes a necessity, particularly for Otter. Beagles love to follow their noses, and this makes him a definite flight risk. Otter's leash is a normal, six foot leash that lets him go far enough away to explore some of the weird and gross things he finds interesting, but not so far that we can't keep him out of trouble (or piles of cat poop).
This six foot separation is not up to his standards. Whenever he finally picks the perfect place to go about his business, it is, without fail, roughly one arms length PAST the end of the leash. He can't face you either, because I guess he thinks that invades his privacy. He likes to have his side to you, if not his rear end. This results in him dragging me along the yard until he finally chooses the prime location, and then me taking one step closer to him so my shoulder does not become dislocated.
From afar, this must look like I just want to get closer to the action. That would also make me look like a crazier person than I probably am.
But he is my dog, and I am his person, so I will deal with this weirdness in exchange for the smiling and tail-wagging with which he is so generous.
And at least he doesn't eat his own poop like Willy. But that is another story.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Friday, July 16, 2010
Slap on the wrist
There. I just gave myself a slap on the wrist for you. My blogging lately has been lazy at best. My problem, if you were wondering, is that I always think of eloquent, witty posts at the wrong times. At work, in the car, in bed while I wait (for longer than I'd like) to fall asleep. I have great ideas for fun, funny and interesting posts, and I even begin to write them in my head. I think that surely I will remember these ideas and snippets of imagined writing the next time I make it to my laptop.
And then, my brain happens.
My brain is an interesting place. Lots goes on there, half of which I am sure I do not remember (and that is being generous). It's quite unfortunate really, especially when I am really excited to write something and then when I finally sit down to create, I remember only that I wanted to write, not what I wanted to write. Grumble grumble.
When I was a junior in high school, in my honors English class, I had the pleasure of listening to a guest speaker who made his living as a writer. I, not surprisingly, do not remember his name. What I do remember is a thing he said about carrying about a notebook wherever he went. That way, when those often fleeting moments of inspiration struck, he would get up out of bed or pull his car to the side of the road so he could write his brief moments of literary genius down. Capture those brilliant ideas and well-constructed lines, and save them to share later.
If I spent the last paragraph inflating a bright shiny balloon, here is where I pop it. I have no such notebook.
Sigh.
But I promise to start feeding parts of my brain into my phone to be called on when the time is right! Because I do enjoy writing, and I like to share my writing with you. So if you could just bear with me, I will try my best to get those blogs wheels turning on a more regular basis.
And then, my brain happens.
My brain is an interesting place. Lots goes on there, half of which I am sure I do not remember (and that is being generous). It's quite unfortunate really, especially when I am really excited to write something and then when I finally sit down to create, I remember only that I wanted to write, not what I wanted to write. Grumble grumble.
When I was a junior in high school, in my honors English class, I had the pleasure of listening to a guest speaker who made his living as a writer. I, not surprisingly, do not remember his name. What I do remember is a thing he said about carrying about a notebook wherever he went. That way, when those often fleeting moments of inspiration struck, he would get up out of bed or pull his car to the side of the road so he could write his brief moments of literary genius down. Capture those brilliant ideas and well-constructed lines, and save them to share later.
If I spent the last paragraph inflating a bright shiny balloon, here is where I pop it. I have no such notebook.
Sigh.
But I promise to start feeding parts of my brain into my phone to be called on when the time is right! Because I do enjoy writing, and I like to share my writing with you. So if you could just bear with me, I will try my best to get those blogs wheels turning on a more regular basis.
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