Friday, January 28, 2005

SWF gets TMI

LTR (long-term readers) know how I feel about reading in the bathroom, public restrooms more especially, but here is a hilarious post from the folk at 3leggeddog (he's on the blogroll) that gives you the bird's-eye view of a reader/talker/tandum pooper.

The One Where I Whine About Writing

Okay, yes I'm a "published" author, but don't get too excited for me. I am published in online newsletters, to my company's website and another website by a company that contracts for our services. And truth be told, I hate what I write for these darn articles. I don't know what I'm talking about...bringing to mind that great bit from Clueless where the guy asks, "Do you even know what you're talking about?" And Cher looks at him and says, "No, why do I sound like I do?" or something to that effect. I don't even get to do the primary research, which also sucks, because I don't get the fun of digging up the interesting tidbits that might make the articles, interesting.

But, hey, I'm "published," isn't that what all writers want? Readers to read what they write? Uh, I get that with a blog, and I get to write what I like. No one is going to read these dumb articles and offer me a book deal for my novel-in-progress. And if someone asks me for a writing sample, do you think I would ever want to turn in the below? Never, because I hate that article. It sucks to write stuff you hate. I feel like I am in college again, or high school, more like. And you want to know the worst part of this whole thing...the company that contracts for our services uses our company as the byline rather than my name. Grrr.

{boy am I whiny today}

Here is an example... Believe me when I say that I won't be offended if you fall asleep while attempting to read it. I dozed off while writing it.

Why Do People Buy Organics
Before Michael and his wife had a baby, purchasing organic products was never a consideration and buying mainstream goods was a matter of course for the busy couple. However, when Emma was ready for solid foods, Michael told us, “We just decided to go with organic baby food…My wife read something in a magazine about it, and it just makes sense…I think we just want to give her the best without pesticides and hormones…as natural as it can be just because we know it’s better.”

As with Michael and his wife, becoming a parent is a strong trigger for many people to begin to buy organic foods. Parents with small children believe that introducing organics is like working on a “clean slate” that will help to ensure future good health. Some begin using organics while they are pregnant; while others start once their child has transitioned to baby food and/or dairy products. Purchasing organics makes parents feel like they are being proactive in protecting their children, teaching them how to “eat right” and acting responsibly.

As Emma got older, Michael and his wife decided to continue buying organic. First they started purchasing dairy products from milk to yogurt, and then they began to purchase items that they felt have high levels of pesticides or chemical. “We just wanted to continue to give her foods that haven’t been exposed to that unnatural and harmful stuff. It just seems that fruits like strawberries and apples are most affected. Their skins are directly exposed to the pesticides, aren’t they? Bananas and oranges seem protected because you remove the skin before you eat it.”

Many people follow the same pathway as Michael’s family, first adopting fruits, vegetables, and baby food, then moving to other categories such as juice and cereal. The accompanying graphic shows this typical organic pathway.

Health conditions are another reason people cite for beginning to purchase organic products. Being diagnosed with a health condition proves to be a strong influence for changes in diet, nutrition and wellness regimes. The most frequently mentioned health trigger is food allergies. Cathryn says a change for her family is on the horizon, “I’m just going to have to start buying organic for her [daughter]. I personally have never ever really used organic things…she’s got allergies as we know and stuff like that. It [non-organic food] might be a problem, so we’re starting to use organic.”

Some people wait to be diagnosed with a condition before purchasing organic, others see organics as a means for prevention. Brian, an avid organics user, says “I mean you wouldn’t drink a shot glass of pesticides would you? Cancer has only been around for the last few decades, and you can’t tell me that’s a coincidence.” The link between cancer or allergies and toxic levels in foods is one that is easily made and understood by many individuals, making the transition to organics an obvious choice. Toxicity levels and potential health hazards are fairly tangible reasons to begin buying organic.

Other reasons for making the move to organics are varied. Some hear about how friends, family or colleagues are using organic and decide to go for it themselves. Others just state common sense (e.g., “If pesticides aren’t good for bugs, how can they be good for us?”). While still others begin using organics because they saw or heard a story about organics and/or food productions that alarmed or frightened them.

What is also interesting about the use of organics is that a lot people aren’t so much driven to begin using because they’ve considered the chemicals in the soil, the food an animal eats or the increased absorption of chemicals on particular foods, rather they are by recommendations from family or friends, better taste options or motivated on impulse if the price is right.

From becoming a parent, to being diagnosed with a health condition, prevention, and family, initial motivations for buying organic varies. Whether one becomes an educated lifetime organics user or reverts back to mainstream products from there depends wholly on the person and the situation.


Thursday, January 27, 2005

the grudge keeper

Absentee family members have always been a part of my life, or maybe the point is that they weren't a part of my life and that was because of the absenteesim. I had grandparents on my father's side, but I've seen them but a few times. I reacted to the death of my grandfather with the sort of 'ah, that's too bad' spirit one greets the death of a celebrity, or maybe less so, because often times one has an emotional connection to a celebrity, such that the loss of his life is truly felt. I have 13 aunts and uncles, full-blooded, on my father's side alone, with countless cousins and grand-cousins, but I don't know any of them. Sadder than all of that to me, well aside from the fact that I have no idea where my dad is, is that my brother has joined the ranked of my absentee family members, and it is all because of a girl, whom I am coming to resent in more ways than I can express, but let me give it a go.

This girl keeps grudges better than anybody on the face of the planet. If they had awards for grudge-keepers all the other nominees would drop out in deference to her superiority in the art of grudge-keeping.

Case numero uno: Back when I was still married to Sam, and just after I'd moved back to Seattle from South Carolina, I was doing the stay-at-home mom bit. She is a nanny. The two combined gave us plenty of time to bond, and bond we did that summer, that is until we planned one last camping trip, the last one of the season. I was so excited about our camping trip. It was going to be a blast, we had our wine coolers (yeah, yeah) and our marshmallows, and our map to find the hot springs you have to camp to and it was going to be great. But then they cancelled. She was tired or something. Cancelling is usually okay, understandable in fact, but never if you wait until the day before. I was pissed off. I was livid. It was rude, and I was severely disappointed. But she got mad that I was mad about it, which I got over in no time, and she stayed angry at me forever, thus making it impossible for her to come to any family daughter's first steps, my bro and she were no shows, her first birthday party? no kept on this way for a very long time. She doesn't even talk to her own sister because of a grudge concerning the period they were roommates. She didn't even call her on her birthday.

So She and I got to be good friends over the summer again and as a result, I got to see my brother quite regularly, and I was so relieved, but unfortunately I had let down my guard. I had forgotten that to be friends with her is to walk constantly on egg shells. One day I trod too hard upon our fragile friendship. I spoke my mind, thus hurting her feelings. No amount of apologizing made a difference, for she didn't believe my sincerity. Since that time at the end of the summer, I rarely see my brother, he doesn't answer the phone when I call, he turns down all invitations for family functions, he even stood up a friend that he hadn't seen in 12 years because of this whole mess.

I called him about it, but he is choosing her over us and his family. He says that we have to give it time. We have to wait for her to come around, but I have no respect for a woman that serves as a wedge between a man and his family. It is wrong and I can't believe that he is allowing her to do that. She is living in the lala land of toddlers and playschool where you just fold your arms and sit in the corner and pout until you feel that the person learned her lesson. Well, Roxy don't play dat. I learned my lesson, indeed, and it's not to befriend someone whose affections are based purely upon how softly you coddle them.

I mourn the loss of a relationship with my brother. I am a very family-oriented person, and really, family is all I have right now, and it saddens me deeply that I don' t have him in my life because of a manipulative, immature girlfriend, but you know what?

Rant over...

Tuesday, January 25, 2005


My beloved Durango was returned to me yesterday after over two weeks at the body shop where it was being repaired from the little rear ender thing I caused when I went forward while looking backward. Note to all you drivers out there: don't drive in the opposite direction of your eyes. It's just never a good idea.

I may have to say that my Durango may be beloved no more. Now, I've been driving a lovely Chevrolet Classic as my replacement vehicle. What the heck's a Chevrolet Classic? You may be asking, as every other person I've told has asked. Well, let me tell you. It is a boring four-door American sedan, no bells and whistles, nothing headturning about it, is a car. I haven't driven a car for two years. I'd forgotten that when you hit the gas on a car (depending on the size of the engine and all that) the car goes and goes right away. The Durango likes to take its time, waving to all the cars around it, smelling the roses, and admiring its reflection in building windows before deciding that it is time to maybe respong to the gas that is pouring into the engine (or wherever gas goes to make it go, I'm no expert, people, read on). Course the Durango is weighed down with the tow package I never use and four-wheel drive that is good for all of the blizzards Seattle never gets, so it has an excuse. But I got addicted to going rather than dawdling. I got used to the car turning quickly. I loved going the same distance on the Classic's ten gallon tank of gas that I go on the Durango's 25 gallon tank of gas. I even got used to falling down into the car instead of climbing up into the Durango.

I turned in my Classic yesterday and picked up the Durango. Turning on the vehicle, I tried to feel at home again. I had my leather interior back, I had my digital compass and thermometer, I had my third row seating. Yeah, I had all that, but what I realized what that I was sitting in a clunky tank. Steering the beast around was like directing a donkey, it wasn't going anywhere quickly. Stopping at a stopsign I had to remember that I couldn't just gun it to cross the intersection. Durangos don't do "gun it."

So alas, I think I may have to end my love affair with the Durango. It seems I am over that American obsession with SUVs, cured by the Chevrolet Classic. Don't worry, I won't be heading to the nearest dealership to pick myself up one. I'm looking for something a little more sporty, a little more me. Do you think child seats fit in Porsches?

Monday, January 24, 2005

Only Dooce Could Make Scrubbing a Trashcan Seem Interesting

How was your weekend? Wait is this thing on? Or has my sporadic blogging of late frightened everyone away?

It's okay if it has. It is almost a relief. No one to write for but me. I was more successful that way before, just check out my july archives...the beginning. No wait don't, because then you will see that I used to do stuff. But it was summer then and it is winter now. Blogging in the summer is a lot easier than in the winter for the very reasons I will explain to you.

In the winter I am inside. You want to know what I did yesterday? I scrubbed my trashcan, and washed the duvet and cover, which my potty-trained daughter decided to baptise with urine. They are white. Why do I have white bedding in my house? Well for the same reason my furniture is all beige and the rug in the bathroom is off-white. I like throwing caution to the wind. I like holding my breath everytime my daughter enters the apartment, our world of neutrality, hoping that she will not violate the furniture or my carpet or my bed with her grubby fingers. I like screaming at her to stay in the kitchen with that or else.

When I bought my sofas, I got them used in an estate sale and remarked upon the gamble I was taking since I have a preschooler at home. The lady at the helm of the sale just suggested that I cover it all with sheets as she does at her home. How do you keep from laughing in the face of a suggestion like that? If I wanted to cover my furniture with sheets I would have bought it from Value Village; never would I have spent days scouring craig's list daily, hourly, by the minute in search of the perfect furniture. Sure I can cover it with sheets, then I can get out the rabbit ears, cover them with foil and dig up the tv trays. Classy.

So I scrubbed my trashcan and took out the trash. Number one (and only) reason living alone (without a man) sucks: taking out the trash. I hate taking out the trash! It sucks. It's disgusting. And it sucks. Men and trash just go together. (oops, did I write that?)

My daughter was with her daddy. I had the whole day alone, and what do I do? Scrub the trashcan. See why I've had a hard time blogging here lately? You don't want to read my relationship woes here, believe me. This isn't the place for it. So you get to read about me scrubbing out the trashcan.

And hey, I've got even more excitement for you. After I washed the duvet cover....I had to iron it! OOH, the fun police almost got me on that one. Yep, I ironed my duvet cover. I ironed my duvet cover while watching Monsieur Verdoux, a Charlie Chaplin film showing on TCM. It took nearly the entire length of the movie to iron the duvet cover. Talk about an hour plus of quality excitement.

So then after that was done I cleaned my daughter's room, which I'd just cleaned hours before and the day before that. It's much easier to clean it myself, but I know the mom in me should be training her to pick up by herself, but will she ever put the Golden Books with the Golden Books and the Berenstain Bears with the Berenstain Bears just like I like them? (Have I mentioned that I have a trace of OCD? No? Well, Brie van de Camp is my whosiwhats.)

I did watch Troy too while contemplating the scrubbing of trashcans and the washing of duvets, and I must say that it was quiet amusing that in this film it is the men that wear the mini skirts and belly shirts. Orlando Bloom, come to me, my darling. Let me run my fingers through your curly brunette locks. Yum, double yum. I have too much of a thing for those Brits, God hang 'em.

I made myself a dinner of London broil and mashed potatoes. It was supposed to be dinner for one, but I had a guest that shouldn't have been. I would have been better off sticking to lean cuisine.

You know it is time to get a life when the highlight of your weekend is the satisfaction that your trashcan gleams brighter than the sun.

Friday, January 14, 2005


I have read on a number of blogs now that my other site is a guilty pleasure, some are even trying to shuck reading, but can't for the addiction to my drama.

I too have a blog that is my guilty pleasure. I always go to it last when going down my blogroll, and then I savor my time there, playing her comment games. I was resistant to linking to her, maybe because I am a little begrudging of her popularity, but I put her on, same as I begrudgingly linked to dooce. I like Michele because it is a light, fluffy blog, but more than a blog, it is becoming a community, a place to share and a place to come up with creative answers to her cute little questions.

If you haven't visited her before, give her a whirl. She might become your guilty pleasure too. Already have a guilty pleasure blog? Do share.

Thursday, January 13, 2005

Just Shut Up

I stepped onto the scale, annoyed as always that I had my heavy boots on. Why do I always wear my heaviest shoes on the days I am going to the doctor’s?

“120,” the nurse wrote before asking, “How tall are you?”

Not understanding why it wasn’t already on my chart, I answered him, “5’10".”

He led me to the exam room, and I took in his leg-sized, muscular arms that were fully revealed due to the fact that the man cut the arms off his scrubs. “So, why aren’t you doing print work?”

“Ha…you’re cute,” I said, with little enthusiasm.

“No, really. You’ve got the body. You’ve got the look. My wife was with (fill in name of agency here) and she had the look and all, but couldn’t keep it below 135. You…you seem to have no problem. You’ve even had a kid, right? You should definitely model.”

I didn’t answer. Just a note to other male nurses looking to stroke the ego of a patient, really not that necessary. When your bladder feels like its full of razor blades and you’ve just handed in a urine specimen the color of the cranberry juice you feel sure the doctor will recommend you drink heavily during the next week, you really don’t give a rat’s ass whether or not someone thinks you should model.

Monday, January 10, 2005

And Holding...

I'm on hold with Continental again. Um, note to Continental: The HOLIDAYS are OVER. Thanks.

This time they remembered the hold music...except it is Guy-with-the-"I wish I could narrate movie trailers"-voice talking about Continental Airlines with "Jingle Bells" and "Frosty the Snowman" in the background. Now I am longing for silence...sweet, sweet silence.

Have you ever thought about calling the bank or an airline just so you could spend the afternoon on hold because that way you have something to do?

"Hey, Joe, whatcha doin'?"

"I'm sitting on hold."

Sounds better than saying "nothin'" now, doesn't it?

Well, now that I think about it, it really doesn't matter.

Truth be told this entire post is a complete waste of time and a testament to why I need to have more to do at work....

The Big Boss just walked up to me, "What are you doing?"

"I'm sitting on hold."

Friday, January 07, 2005

This Blows

Wanna hear something not-so-funny? No? Go away then.

After I was done holding (see below), I left work, excited to start my weekend, got into my car, drove to the office park exit, made it to the center lane, where I proceeded to rearend somebody. (I think I used far, far too many commas in that sentence, or not enough words, or it's a run-on, but I am too tired to edit.)

It must have been my curse for commenting on someone's site that I am an excellent driver. Dammit, I should have knocked on wood. Ain't that a bitch?

Still Holding

Do you ever feel like you could express your blog post so much better if you could just tell the reader in person, complete with facial expressions and silly voices? This is one of these posts.

I am on hold right now at work with Continental Airlines. I was supposed to be off work 10 minutes ago, but that is another story.

So anyway, I call and need to speak with a representative.

You know how they tell you that there will be someone with you in approximately----minutes and then another voice fills in the blank? Well yeah, they just did that. Only the first guy sounded like he was hopped up on the speed he had to take because no one will ever hire him to do the voice overs for film trailers, his true called, and the second guy sounded like he was drugged by the other guy because he is sharing his voice time. And then after the voice guys’ performances…complete and utter silence.

What? No Muzak? Did Continental spend all its money on the dueling voice guys so there was none left for even so much as the a rotating track of accordion to get me through the agony of hanging around on hold with an airline when I could be at home lounging on the couch watching Single in the City on WE.

I am sitting at my desk, still on hold…I think I’ll be here till next Tuesday.

The One Where I Ask Questions About Liver And Onions

What happened to liver and onions? Can you recall the last time someone said, “so my wife made liver and onions for dinner last night?” Did people stop liking liver and onions? Did anyone ever like liver and onions? Will liver and onions make a comeback? Is there a small sect of liver and onions lovers out there somewhere on the planet that I don't know about?

Did your mom make you eat liver and onions when you were a kid? Would you make your kid eat liver and onions just because your mom made you eat liver and onions? Or are you the type of parent that vowed never to torture your kids the way your parents tortured you?

Why don’t people make liver and onions anymore? How come there are no liver and onions Lean Cuisines? Where’s the liver and onions entrée at Applebee’s? Why can’t I find liver and onions in my grocer’s deli?

What ever happened to liver and onions?

Thursday, January 06, 2005

Step two three, step two three

Can I just tell you how much I love watching Ellen dance? It is becoming a sickness of sorts.

Every night at 11 I switch on my televison. It's not for the 11 o'clock news. No, no people. I am turning on my television so I can watch Ellen dance on the Oh! Oxygen network (okay, I just like the Oh! Those Oh! commercials are so they still have them? I only tune in to see Ellen dance). And dance she does. She jigs, she jives and she twists. I can't get enough of it.

She's no Britney Spears or Justin Timberlake (double bleh!), but that lady's got moves. The second the music stops and she finally sets her bum in her seat after faking us out a couple times, the TV's off, the lights are out, and I am ready for a good night's sleep.

Thank you, Dancing Ellen.

Thief Ghost?

Today I did something evil.

I was sitting at my desk minding my own business when I heard someone say to the CFO that there was only one slice of banana bread left in the kitchen. She got all excited, and I knew she wanted that last slice of banana bread. But the thing is, so did I. She'd been in the kitchen with it, but left to get the mail...that woman is obsessed with the mail, so I took the opportunity. I swooped in, took that last slice of banana bread, then rushed back to my desk and shoved it in my drawer.

Not two seconds later, she rushed over to me, "Who went this way?"

I looked up from the papers I was seriously concentrating on, "What?"

"Did you see anyone go by?"

"Uh, no. I'm in my own world editing this stuff. Why?"

"Someone just took the last piece of banana bread. I wanted it. And to top it off, they left the dirty plate sitting on the counter in the kitchen."

"Hmm, must have been the banana bread thief ghost again."

I could tell she was pretty miffed. That woman sure does love her food. But hey. She left it unattended. I didn't feel bad, that bad anyway. The woman eats three lunches.

I did go back and wash the dish after she was safely in her office. Then and only then did I pull the precious banana bread booty from my desk.

Yum, that was some good stuff. Definitely worth it.

Tuesday, January 04, 2005

How to Cure a Crush

I have a thing with people reading on the toilet, especially public toilets. I've said it before. I'm saying it now. I just don't get it. So when I was walking down the hall this afternoon after leaving the office, I passed hottie. He entered the bathroom with a stack of papers in hand, and with that the minor twinge of a crush, that tiny bit of attraction that I had for him vanished, poof just like that.

Monday, January 03, 2005

Ban This

Every year seems to come along bringing with it new words or phrases that bug the hell out of us because they just. won't. go. away. We never want to hear them again, yet they are everywhere. I read the 2005 List of Banished Words today and wish that we could actually ban them. Why oh why can't we ban them.

I want to add "You're fired!" to the list. I am so sick of that phrase and sick of the Donald walking around like he invented putting those two words together. What? All these new reality shows with their little taglines to get rid of contestants...You're in...You're're still in the're've been get to stay. Ugh. Why do they have to say the same freaking thing every freaking time? Why does it all have to be such a ritual?

Guess I should stop watching reality shows cause this was supposed to be about words that should be banned and not TV.

Oh, and for the record...My one disagreement with the aforementioned list is the banishment of blog or all variations of blog. I am quite fond of the word and all it has represented for me this year, though I am sure those who know me wish they could ban the word from my vocabulary so I could no longer say, "so I was reading this one blog"..."oh I wrote about that on my blog"..."better be careful, it could end up in someone's blog." Maybe I use the word too much.

So the power of banisher lies in your hands...of what noisome word or phrase do you rid the world?

Sunday, January 02, 2005

My Dog Ate My Blogwork?

And so it is that I return reluctantly to Narcissistic Flight. I was surprised that I would be reluctant, because I have really enjoyed writing here, but lately my life has been pretty low, and I would prefer not to really drip with depression here on this blog, and when you are missing the stories about bugs in the eye or fake eyelashes and devil horns, really what have you left? But I welcome the challenge. That is why I write a blog in the first place. It keeps me writing, and if it becomes homework, so be it.

Oh yeah, Happy New Year, by the way...
- Crazy/Hip Blog-Mamas +