Yes folks, this Saturday I am going to be in college again. I am going to put strangely colored streaks in my hair, wear inappropriately tight and short clothing, and drink my face off while listening to music too loud and dancing too late into the night.
I might wear fishnet stockings and basement boots (those boots that you cared just little enough about that you didn't mind wearing them in 2 inches worth of spilled beer and grime).
I'll probably scream in my friends' ears and sing off-key; I'll definitely eat unhealthy food and fall victim to a very *un*healthy dose of secondhand smoke.
With any luck, my husband and friends will be just as depraved as I plan on being. I'm pretty sure they'll play along.
The best part is, come Sunday we won't need to do any homework because we are going to wake up adults, wash the fake dye out of our hair (hopefully), and drive home from Houston - probably hungover - after seeing Flogging Molly at the House of Blues Saturday night.
I'm not sure I'll get anyone else to do the green streaks in the hair, seeing as they all have much more important and serious jobs than I do, but I'm pretty sure I won't be alone in the rest of it.
Here is how I know I've grown up and passed the point of no return - I just spent a few hours searching the internet for two things:
1.) A restaurant to have dinner beforehand
2.) A museum we might want to visit while we are there because the King Tut exhibit is in town
The restaurant part isn't so bad - I mean we all need to eat and we want to find a good deal for pre-gaming. This is no real departure from the good old days of slamming a bunch of beers at home before hitting the bar so that we could spend less on overpriced bartended booze.
The museum I'm not ashamed of - there's no harm in looking for some culture when you go to a big city like Houston. It's just proof that the party isn't the sole purpose of the weekend anymore - and it's always a little alarming when you get slapped in the face with that realization out of nowhere, when you genuinely thought you were planning a weekend centered around nothing more than fitting in with a bunch of Irish punk rockers.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Old Eggs
Yes, it is about what you think..
Speaking of inappropriate behavior at work -
The most inappropriate thing anyone has ever said to me at work has got to be this:
I was having a conversation with a colleague who regularly peppered me with questions about why I didn't pursue law school after majoring in English "because that's what English majors do". And I regularly explained that I wasn't interested in law school and that there are lots of other things for English majors to do - like work. Clearly I was able to wrangle myself a job, so it's not like law school is the only option. And I actually got the impression he would have felt more comfortable with me if I was in school instead of in a career, perhaps because I am a woman but more likely because I have only an English degree and therefore must need more education.
Surprisngly, that was just a lead-in and not the actual story.
What was inappopriate was when my colleague informed me that I was getting old and, therefore, so were my eggs and if I was planning on having kids I better do it soon.
I almost don't even need to say anything more, right?
Speaking of inappropriate behavior at work -
The most inappropriate thing anyone has ever said to me at work has got to be this:
I was having a conversation with a colleague who regularly peppered me with questions about why I didn't pursue law school after majoring in English "because that's what English majors do". And I regularly explained that I wasn't interested in law school and that there are lots of other things for English majors to do - like work. Clearly I was able to wrangle myself a job, so it's not like law school is the only option. And I actually got the impression he would have felt more comfortable with me if I was in school instead of in a career, perhaps because I am a woman but more likely because I have only an English degree and therefore must need more education.
Surprisngly, that was just a lead-in and not the actual story.
What was inappopriate was when my colleague informed me that I was getting old and, therefore, so were my eggs and if I was planning on having kids I better do it soon.
I almost don't even need to say anything more, right?
Leggo My Ego
I've been lucky so far in life, in that I haven't had a whole lot of exposure to the sort of grimy and inapproriate sleazebags that are the bane of so many working women's existences. (And men's too, perhaps.)
A conversation I had today reminded me of this and I got to thinking about what sort of inappropriate behavior I have endured, and just how bad it was compared to the sort of unbelievable scumbaggery that apparently actually happens out there. To real people.
I haven't experienced anything in the way of sexual harrassment. Nor have I been exposed to anger or hostility in the workplace, or a feeling of discomfort that I would feel strongly enough to report. I guess I've been pretty lucky.
What I have experienced is a general sort of inappropriateness that I am not even sure how to categorize. For example, about a year ago, I announced that I was taking a new job within my organization and would be vacating my current position. When asked, by a certain colleague, why I had made that choice, I explained that I wanted to do more for the organization and thought I would be better positioned to accomplish that via the new role. The response I got? "Wow, what an ego on you!" I was sort of taken-aback. The sort of taken-aback that is not sure how to respond and so, in the absence of the biting comeback you wish for, you stand mute trying to figure out what is the best way to handle the situation. I think I stammered something about not having an ego and that wanting to do more for your organization doesn't count as having an oversized ego, but I'm sure it came out more like this: "Um, well, uh, I don't really think... uh" So it's kind of like I didn't say anything at all.
So here is the real issue. Is it a bad thing to have a big ego? If ego means the opinion you have of yourself and your self-importance, is it wrong to have a big one?
The most assholey people I know are the ones who have low self-esteem, because they feel like they have to compensate for their shortcomings by being "toppers" and throwing everyone else under the bus all the time to make themselves look better. The self-confident ones are the ones who don't mind giving other people the credit and pursuing the greater good rather than self-gain. If that is the side effect of having a big ego - than I say serve me up another platter of self-importance. What is so wrong with wanting to find a place for yourself where you feel like you're doing some good rather than just sitting around waiting for someone to give you work? So I felt under utilized... I could have either sat around for the next 30 years being under utilized and taking full advantage of it, or I could admit that I can do more and actively seek out a place for myself where more would be asked of me. In what fucked up universe is the former the preferable option just because having a "big ego" might get me a place at the unpopular table?
A conversation I had today reminded me of this and I got to thinking about what sort of inappropriate behavior I have endured, and just how bad it was compared to the sort of unbelievable scumbaggery that apparently actually happens out there. To real people.
I haven't experienced anything in the way of sexual harrassment. Nor have I been exposed to anger or hostility in the workplace, or a feeling of discomfort that I would feel strongly enough to report. I guess I've been pretty lucky.
What I have experienced is a general sort of inappropriateness that I am not even sure how to categorize. For example, about a year ago, I announced that I was taking a new job within my organization and would be vacating my current position. When asked, by a certain colleague, why I had made that choice, I explained that I wanted to do more for the organization and thought I would be better positioned to accomplish that via the new role. The response I got? "Wow, what an ego on you!" I was sort of taken-aback. The sort of taken-aback that is not sure how to respond and so, in the absence of the biting comeback you wish for, you stand mute trying to figure out what is the best way to handle the situation. I think I stammered something about not having an ego and that wanting to do more for your organization doesn't count as having an oversized ego, but I'm sure it came out more like this: "Um, well, uh, I don't really think... uh" So it's kind of like I didn't say anything at all.
So here is the real issue. Is it a bad thing to have a big ego? If ego means the opinion you have of yourself and your self-importance, is it wrong to have a big one?
The most assholey people I know are the ones who have low self-esteem, because they feel like they have to compensate for their shortcomings by being "toppers" and throwing everyone else under the bus all the time to make themselves look better. The self-confident ones are the ones who don't mind giving other people the credit and pursuing the greater good rather than self-gain. If that is the side effect of having a big ego - than I say serve me up another platter of self-importance. What is so wrong with wanting to find a place for yourself where you feel like you're doing some good rather than just sitting around waiting for someone to give you work? So I felt under utilized... I could have either sat around for the next 30 years being under utilized and taking full advantage of it, or I could admit that I can do more and actively seek out a place for myself where more would be asked of me. In what fucked up universe is the former the preferable option just because having a "big ego" might get me a place at the unpopular table?
Garbage Fairy? Nosy Neighbor? Good Samaritan???
Alright so today was garbage day. Which means we take our great big green garbage thing (oh my god, am I going brain dead? -- it took me forever to think of the word "can"!) and roll it to the end of the driveway, and then when we get home in the afternoon it has been emptied and then left pretty much in the middle of the street. This is just what happens. Every single Wednesday.
Now, for those of you who haven't been to my house - some background.
1.) When Jeff Foxworthy said "If when giving directions to your house, you have to say 'turn off the paved road', you might be a redneck" - he was talking about my house. I live in a 'horseshoe' type neighborhood, on a semi-compacted gravel road with lots of potholes and no real set width. It's no street. More like a trail.
2.) My house is the first one on my road, which means my six or so neighbors who share that part of the road with us always have to drive by my house. My neighbors across the street have planted great big wavy green plants that started out pretty and are now not much more than a nuisance because they're growing into the road and forcing most people to drive pretty much through our grass to get down the road. I hate those plants.
3.) So... on trash day - the garbagemen just drop our trash can in the middle of the road and I love it. It makes people slow down and drive around it and it inconveniences everyone, including myself, and I love it and hope they keep doing it. This is because I'm a mean person but also because people tend to drive like 40 mph down this gravel road. And little kids play on this road all the time, and my house is on a bend where, because of the obnoxious green road blockers (plants), you can't see what is coming at you. Not even great big speeding white trucks. And apparently, being the only person on the road that does not have kids qualifies me to also be the only person on the road who cares about their safety. So on trash day I like to see all the drivers on my road have to slow down and purposefully drive around my annoying trash can. I wish every day was garbage day.
So today, Adam and I come home and normally we would have to drive around the trash can and take a very sharp turn to then get into our driveway and have a nice laugh about how annoying we must be to all our neighbors. Instead, we pulled up and our trashcan had been drug all the way down the driveway (no small feat considering it's tiny pebbles, not asphalt, and semi-long) and under the carport. Which actually felt a little like an invasion of privacy, as hermit-like as that might seem. This is mostly because the carport is underneath the house, so it feels like they were in my house. Super weird, I know.
So the burning question is - WHO MOVED MY TRASH CAN?
I wish this was some sort of philosophical question with a greater meaning, like Who Moved My Cheese. I suppose I could try to make it one - where I equate my trash can to my retirement account; empty and in a place it doesn't belong.
But really, I just wish I knew who moved my trash can. Because I think it's weird and I do not believe it was simply a nice gesture because WHY? Adam and I don't go around doing nice gestures. If someone needed a wider berth for their gigantic white truck, why didn't they just move the can away from the road? (sidenote: in case you haven't been to Texas, 90% of the vehicles on the road are huge white trucks.)
Ah, the trials and tribulations of my life. What ever will happen next? Perhaps some mailbox fraud or a smashed pumpkin in my driveway. Aren't you glad you read this post?
Now, for those of you who haven't been to my house - some background.
1.) When Jeff Foxworthy said "If when giving directions to your house, you have to say 'turn off the paved road', you might be a redneck" - he was talking about my house. I live in a 'horseshoe' type neighborhood, on a semi-compacted gravel road with lots of potholes and no real set width. It's no street. More like a trail.
2.) My house is the first one on my road, which means my six or so neighbors who share that part of the road with us always have to drive by my house. My neighbors across the street have planted great big wavy green plants that started out pretty and are now not much more than a nuisance because they're growing into the road and forcing most people to drive pretty much through our grass to get down the road. I hate those plants.
3.) So... on trash day - the garbagemen just drop our trash can in the middle of the road and I love it. It makes people slow down and drive around it and it inconveniences everyone, including myself, and I love it and hope they keep doing it. This is because I'm a mean person but also because people tend to drive like 40 mph down this gravel road. And little kids play on this road all the time, and my house is on a bend where, because of the obnoxious green road blockers (plants), you can't see what is coming at you. Not even great big speeding white trucks. And apparently, being the only person on the road that does not have kids qualifies me to also be the only person on the road who cares about their safety. So on trash day I like to see all the drivers on my road have to slow down and purposefully drive around my annoying trash can. I wish every day was garbage day.
So today, Adam and I come home and normally we would have to drive around the trash can and take a very sharp turn to then get into our driveway and have a nice laugh about how annoying we must be to all our neighbors. Instead, we pulled up and our trashcan had been drug all the way down the driveway (no small feat considering it's tiny pebbles, not asphalt, and semi-long) and under the carport. Which actually felt a little like an invasion of privacy, as hermit-like as that might seem. This is mostly because the carport is underneath the house, so it feels like they were in my house. Super weird, I know.
So the burning question is - WHO MOVED MY TRASH CAN?
I wish this was some sort of philosophical question with a greater meaning, like Who Moved My Cheese. I suppose I could try to make it one - where I equate my trash can to my retirement account; empty and in a place it doesn't belong.
But really, I just wish I knew who moved my trash can. Because I think it's weird and I do not believe it was simply a nice gesture because WHY? Adam and I don't go around doing nice gestures. If someone needed a wider berth for their gigantic white truck, why didn't they just move the can away from the road? (sidenote: in case you haven't been to Texas, 90% of the vehicles on the road are huge white trucks.)
Ah, the trials and tribulations of my life. What ever will happen next? Perhaps some mailbox fraud or a smashed pumpkin in my driveway. Aren't you glad you read this post?
Yes - Nigeria!
Hello and thank you to my one Nigerian reader! I am excited!
Or - at least I presume that is what it means when I click on Audience and I see a bunch of "United States" and one Nigeria.
Or - at least I presume that is what it means when I click on Audience and I see a bunch of "United States" and one Nigeria.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Buying America: Grocery Day Part 2
If nothing else - if buying American does nothing for our country and doesn't make an impact on the global economy at all - trying to buy only products made only in the U.S.A really stops you from buying whatever you want whenever you want and therefore is perhaps contributing to my vacation fund. Actually scratch that and replace with "bill paying fund".
For example, I'm scared to go shopping for clothes, so I'm just not doing it. Instead of actively going out and looking for American-made clothing, I'm just not buying any - which is really beside the point. But I've spent a decent amount of time on the internet searching for American-made clothing and I'm having a difficult time. Lucky Brand Jeans MIGHT be assembled in America. I'm not totally sure. It's hard to tell - this really is a difficult task and I have to admit I'm experiencing a fair amount of frustration at how little is actually made in America. And Lucky Brand is expensive, much more expensive than Target-brand cheapies that I normally shop for. And because of how arduous this is, I made executive decisions on two occasions yesterday at the grocery store. Here is the story of my epic failure at my self-imposed challenge:
1.) Adam wants a shrimp peeler thing-a-ma-jig that you can stick in your shrimp and remove all the poopy veins. UH.... YES PLEASE! He doesn't need to convince me any on that purchase. But there are none made in America apparently. Even though it's literally just a curved piece of plastic. The one at HEB was made in China (ouch) but cost only $2. I told him just to get it. FAIL.
2.) Adam wants a little brush and dustpan for the garage. There were four, count them FOUR, options at HEB - none of which were made in America. I approved his purchase of the one made in Mexico (slightly less ouch). I mean, if you're going to give me four options, none of which are made in America, what am I supposed to do? Probably I could have held out and looked harder, and in this aspect I am totally in the wrong. I feel guilty and like a failure and just generally depressed about my goal.
Small consolations:
1.) Used the Purex for the first time yesterday and my clothes are still intact. Glad to see this means I can continue to use Purex.
2.) Bought some candles which are handmade in America.
3.) The rest of the food items we bought at the store were made in America.
4.) Had to buy a new bottom rack for dishwasher - was excited to see it was made in America.
5.) Went to Home Depot to purchase a bunch of electrical items for some new project Adam is doing in the garage. Of the ten items we got, seven were made in America and three were made in China. The problem was he couldn't do his project without those three so I had to approve them. Again I feel the crushing weight of failure bearing down upon me and there's nothing I can do about it. The only consolation is that we bought more that was made in America than wasn't, and we actively made choices in those aspects to purchase the American-made version over the non-American-made version. There's some stuff you just can't get.
AMERICA - MANUFACTURE MORE STUFF!!!
For example, I'm scared to go shopping for clothes, so I'm just not doing it. Instead of actively going out and looking for American-made clothing, I'm just not buying any - which is really beside the point. But I've spent a decent amount of time on the internet searching for American-made clothing and I'm having a difficult time. Lucky Brand Jeans MIGHT be assembled in America. I'm not totally sure. It's hard to tell - this really is a difficult task and I have to admit I'm experiencing a fair amount of frustration at how little is actually made in America. And Lucky Brand is expensive, much more expensive than Target-brand cheapies that I normally shop for. And because of how arduous this is, I made executive decisions on two occasions yesterday at the grocery store. Here is the story of my epic failure at my self-imposed challenge:
1.) Adam wants a shrimp peeler thing-a-ma-jig that you can stick in your shrimp and remove all the poopy veins. UH.... YES PLEASE! He doesn't need to convince me any on that purchase. But there are none made in America apparently. Even though it's literally just a curved piece of plastic. The one at HEB was made in China (ouch) but cost only $2. I told him just to get it. FAIL.
2.) Adam wants a little brush and dustpan for the garage. There were four, count them FOUR, options at HEB - none of which were made in America. I approved his purchase of the one made in Mexico (slightly less ouch). I mean, if you're going to give me four options, none of which are made in America, what am I supposed to do? Probably I could have held out and looked harder, and in this aspect I am totally in the wrong. I feel guilty and like a failure and just generally depressed about my goal.
Small consolations:
1.) Used the Purex for the first time yesterday and my clothes are still intact. Glad to see this means I can continue to use Purex.
2.) Bought some candles which are handmade in America.
3.) The rest of the food items we bought at the store were made in America.
4.) Had to buy a new bottom rack for dishwasher - was excited to see it was made in America.
5.) Went to Home Depot to purchase a bunch of electrical items for some new project Adam is doing in the garage. Of the ten items we got, seven were made in America and three were made in China. The problem was he couldn't do his project without those three so I had to approve them. Again I feel the crushing weight of failure bearing down upon me and there's nothing I can do about it. The only consolation is that we bought more that was made in America than wasn't, and we actively made choices in those aspects to purchase the American-made version over the non-American-made version. There's some stuff you just can't get.
AMERICA - MANUFACTURE MORE STUFF!!!
The Power of Community
It amazes me every time I encounted the amazing willingness of my small town to come together and support a cause for one of its own.
Last year, my 19-year-old neighbor, Hayle Shay Brown, was critically injured after an accident during a motocross race. She has endured numerous surgeries and continues to suffer from heart problems, as well as being paralyzed from the waist down. Despite her injuries, she maintains a positive attitude and has the adopted the motto "hope does not give up". In addition, she is joining the board of a local organization that supports causes like her own, so that she can spread her message and share her attitude with people who truly know and feel her pain.
On Thursday, her family and friends put on a benefit in Hayle's honor, in order to raise money for her mounting medical bills. The event was held in the Assembly Hall at the local expo center - a very large room with a stage and tons of cafeteria style tables, and the place was packed by the end of the night. Adam and I were touched to see how many of the neighbors came out, as well as donated items for the silent and live auctions. Ms Hayle and her parents made speeches about how tough their journey has been and, despite that, how much they refuse to give up hope that she will one day walk again and they will be able to return their lives to a sense of normalcy. Most heart-warming of all was finding out, during the event, who had actually done the work to make it happen and spread the word. A local real estate agency - competitors of the real estate agency Hayle's father owns - ran the event and made sure it went off without a hitch. When I heard this, I got very choked up as I was reminded of the goodness not only in people, but also in local businesses.
Other local businesses, such as a prominent HVAC repair firm, donated services that went for thousands of dollars, far above their actual value.
Adam and I were struck by how willingly the entire community came out to support this brave young woman and show her that her plight will not be forgotten or ignored, and that her family will not be left to bear the burden alone. I pray that for Hayle, hope really doesn't ever give up.
Last year, my 19-year-old neighbor, Hayle Shay Brown, was critically injured after an accident during a motocross race. She has endured numerous surgeries and continues to suffer from heart problems, as well as being paralyzed from the waist down. Despite her injuries, she maintains a positive attitude and has the adopted the motto "hope does not give up". In addition, she is joining the board of a local organization that supports causes like her own, so that she can spread her message and share her attitude with people who truly know and feel her pain.
On Thursday, her family and friends put on a benefit in Hayle's honor, in order to raise money for her mounting medical bills. The event was held in the Assembly Hall at the local expo center - a very large room with a stage and tons of cafeteria style tables, and the place was packed by the end of the night. Adam and I were touched to see how many of the neighbors came out, as well as donated items for the silent and live auctions. Ms Hayle and her parents made speeches about how tough their journey has been and, despite that, how much they refuse to give up hope that she will one day walk again and they will be able to return their lives to a sense of normalcy. Most heart-warming of all was finding out, during the event, who had actually done the work to make it happen and spread the word. A local real estate agency - competitors of the real estate agency Hayle's father owns - ran the event and made sure it went off without a hitch. When I heard this, I got very choked up as I was reminded of the goodness not only in people, but also in local businesses.
Other local businesses, such as a prominent HVAC repair firm, donated services that went for thousands of dollars, far above their actual value.
Adam and I were struck by how willingly the entire community came out to support this brave young woman and show her that her plight will not be forgotten or ignored, and that her family will not be left to bear the burden alone. I pray that for Hayle, hope really doesn't ever give up.
Rockin' Ricks Bar - A View Through Beer Colored Glasses
Alright, I've lived here for almost five years and for every bit of that five years, Adam and I have been searching for our down-home watering hole. Given the stories you hear about Texas, one woudl be inclined to believe that their is a beer joint on every corner but it's not really the case. As with most places, we're pretty full up with chain restaurants that get super crowded on the weekends and don't have that special sort of brotherly feel that you want with your binge drinking.
And then, as if a light shone down on it from the Heavens, Adam and I stumbled upon Rockin Ricks Sports Bar as we drove our two friends home from dinner the other night. The first oddity about it is that essentially it's in a neighborhood. Which is sort of weird. Just kind of tucked away in the neighborhood in a little strip mall that also houses a defunct Mexican restaurant and maybe an insurance agency?
Well, we pulled in because it was only 8:30 at night and we figured if it was awful there was no wasted time, since we were driving past it and had already had our fill of beer and chicken wings. Ah, but many of you know there is not really such a thing as a "fill" of beer. In fact, quite opposite - when you have actually had what should definitely be your fill, that is the exact moment when the devil on your shoulder starts whispering in your ear that you need more. And so, more we had. And more. And more.
Rockin Ricks was filled with 20-somethings and cougars and of course "Rockin Rick" - who ran the music and pretended to sing and do guitar while actually air guitaring and singing lightly into a microphone while the real music played much more loudly over the speakers. Rockin Rick also liked encouraging the ladies to come up and request songs, and then pretend that he couldn't hear them so that they had to move in real close and he could put his arm around them. We watched this unfold about 15 times in a row. It was quite hilarious. Despite the cigarette smoke, the place is a total gem. There are tons of tables - so hardly anyone was left with standing room only. There's a fancy lounge-like area in the back, and very clean bathrooms.
Adam didn't really like the music - there was a little bit too much country for him. But other than that, there was plenty of fake karaoke and normal music for the rest of us. We had to sort of force him to admit "this is our new watering hole" but he finally did. Of course, my coat smelled like smoke for about a week, but it was worth it.
**Disclaimer - always drink responsibly and remember to have a designated driver no matter how close you are to home. We always do.**
And then, as if a light shone down on it from the Heavens, Adam and I stumbled upon Rockin Ricks Sports Bar as we drove our two friends home from dinner the other night. The first oddity about it is that essentially it's in a neighborhood. Which is sort of weird. Just kind of tucked away in the neighborhood in a little strip mall that also houses a defunct Mexican restaurant and maybe an insurance agency?
Well, we pulled in because it was only 8:30 at night and we figured if it was awful there was no wasted time, since we were driving past it and had already had our fill of beer and chicken wings. Ah, but many of you know there is not really such a thing as a "fill" of beer. In fact, quite opposite - when you have actually had what should definitely be your fill, that is the exact moment when the devil on your shoulder starts whispering in your ear that you need more. And so, more we had. And more. And more.
Rockin Ricks was filled with 20-somethings and cougars and of course "Rockin Rick" - who ran the music and pretended to sing and do guitar while actually air guitaring and singing lightly into a microphone while the real music played much more loudly over the speakers. Rockin Rick also liked encouraging the ladies to come up and request songs, and then pretend that he couldn't hear them so that they had to move in real close and he could put his arm around them. We watched this unfold about 15 times in a row. It was quite hilarious. Despite the cigarette smoke, the place is a total gem. There are tons of tables - so hardly anyone was left with standing room only. There's a fancy lounge-like area in the back, and very clean bathrooms.
Adam didn't really like the music - there was a little bit too much country for him. But other than that, there was plenty of fake karaoke and normal music for the rest of us. We had to sort of force him to admit "this is our new watering hole" but he finally did. Of course, my coat smelled like smoke for about a week, but it was worth it.
**Disclaimer - always drink responsibly and remember to have a designated driver no matter how close you are to home. We always do.**
Monday, February 13, 2012
Vive Les Arts: The Color Purple
So, on Friday my friend invited me to go see The Color Purple at the local community theatre and of course I accepted because who wouldn't?
Where I grew up, the community theatre was pretty... erm... downtrodden? I don't know the right word but it definitely wasn't a big fancy building on a prime piece of real estate with professional lighting and an orchestra pit. I'm pretty sure the kids in the audience had to sit on the floor actually. And the name had the word "Possum" in it. Who wants to go there? (Actually, I did. I played a hag in the showing of The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe. I was totally awesome.) But I digress... that was Delaware so...
Quite on the other end of the spectrum lies Vive Les Arts - a community theatre that feels anything but. They served complimentary wine before the show, first of all. So, you know I'm hooked already.
The Color Purple was a musical and I was a little skeptical, I have to admit. I mean you just don't have all that many great singers running around these days, or at least it doesn't seem like it judging from American Idol auditions and such.
But I was 100%, completely WOWED. First of all you should know that this was the first community theatre in the United States to be granted rights to produce The Color Purple. So every few minutes you just remember that you are actually part of history right now. Which is pretty neat. And then the singing. People, the singing! The kid who played Harpo was amazing - I mean I couldn't take my eyes off him when he was on stage; he had that much star power. Shug Avery and Celie were equally captivating, both in acting and singing. The church ladies were hilarious and probably my favorite part of the whole production. The music was fantastic - I didn't know until after the show had ended that it was a live orchestra and not a recording. I haven't been to a whole lot of plays, I admit. But the ones I have been to have generally left me feeling lukewarm at the end - a nice way to kill a couple of hours but not a crowning point in my life. It wasn't like this with The Color Purple. I left there feeling invigorated and proud to be a part of a community where so much hidden talent sizzles just beneath the surface. Where are these people Monday through Friday, and why aren't they famous?!?
Bravo Vive Les Arts!
Where I grew up, the community theatre was pretty... erm... downtrodden? I don't know the right word but it definitely wasn't a big fancy building on a prime piece of real estate with professional lighting and an orchestra pit. I'm pretty sure the kids in the audience had to sit on the floor actually. And the name had the word "Possum" in it. Who wants to go there? (Actually, I did. I played a hag in the showing of The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe. I was totally awesome.) But I digress... that was Delaware so...
Quite on the other end of the spectrum lies Vive Les Arts - a community theatre that feels anything but. They served complimentary wine before the show, first of all. So, you know I'm hooked already.
The Color Purple was a musical and I was a little skeptical, I have to admit. I mean you just don't have all that many great singers running around these days, or at least it doesn't seem like it judging from American Idol auditions and such.
But I was 100%, completely WOWED. First of all you should know that this was the first community theatre in the United States to be granted rights to produce The Color Purple. So every few minutes you just remember that you are actually part of history right now. Which is pretty neat. And then the singing. People, the singing! The kid who played Harpo was amazing - I mean I couldn't take my eyes off him when he was on stage; he had that much star power. Shug Avery and Celie were equally captivating, both in acting and singing. The church ladies were hilarious and probably my favorite part of the whole production. The music was fantastic - I didn't know until after the show had ended that it was a live orchestra and not a recording. I haven't been to a whole lot of plays, I admit. But the ones I have been to have generally left me feeling lukewarm at the end - a nice way to kill a couple of hours but not a crowning point in my life. It wasn't like this with The Color Purple. I left there feeling invigorated and proud to be a part of a community where so much hidden talent sizzles just beneath the surface. Where are these people Monday through Friday, and why aren't they famous?!?
Bravo Vive Les Arts!
Buying America: Fail #1
Turns out I bought foreign-made makeup yesterday on accident. I thought the packaging said California, so I bought it. But my hangover-induced fog kept me from seeing the huge lettering on the side that said Made In Italy. So I will remember for next time that Physicians Formula is made in Italy.
A friend suggested to me today that loosening the grip on this challenge might make things easier and still meet the intent. For example, Canada and Mexico might be okay. It's a nice thought but I don't want to make this easy, because it's not easy to be out of work and struggling to pay the bills. It's not easy to interview for job after job, with no luck, and keep a smile on your face for your children and family. And whether something is made in Canada or Russia -- it's still not made here. And isn't that the whole point?
My buying power will never be enough to make any sort of splash in a corporate structure. Executives at General Electric will never care that the Alexander family in some podunk town in central Texas isn't going to buy their products anymore. But maybe our experience will help pave the way for our friends and family to try the same thing, and their friends and their family to try it, and to feel a sense of pride about the choices they make regarding where they send their money. And that, my friends, is the point.
A friend suggested to me today that loosening the grip on this challenge might make things easier and still meet the intent. For example, Canada and Mexico might be okay. It's a nice thought but I don't want to make this easy, because it's not easy to be out of work and struggling to pay the bills. It's not easy to interview for job after job, with no luck, and keep a smile on your face for your children and family. And whether something is made in Canada or Russia -- it's still not made here. And isn't that the whole point?
My buying power will never be enough to make any sort of splash in a corporate structure. Executives at General Electric will never care that the Alexander family in some podunk town in central Texas isn't going to buy their products anymore. But maybe our experience will help pave the way for our friends and family to try the same thing, and their friends and their family to try it, and to feel a sense of pride about the choices they make regarding where they send their money. And that, my friends, is the point.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Buying America - Grocery Day
Well today was the first true test of Adam's and my new goal to buy only products made or grown in the United States. We started out this morning rather uneducated but what our day taught us is that we have a lot to learn and much research to do before we can truly say we've done this.
Some things we faced this morning:
1.) Normally grocery shopping is a super easy and enjoyable part of our week. We do it on Sunday mornings while the rest of Texas is at church, thereby avoiding the crowds. Usually we go out for breakfast first and then go to the store, where we buy pretty much the exact same products from week to week. We're not adventurous eaters, most of you know. Such a routine is easily accomplished in pretty much any state of mind. But we're not doing routine anymore. Our lives have changed now, and even though I want to say it's for the better - things aren't as simple. This morning we did the shopping a little hungover and later in the day because we got a late start (on account of the fact that we went out with our friends who drank us under the table until about 1 a.m.). We were in a bit of a fog and moving slowly, and probably being the exact people that we hate at the store. Of course, in the name of our goal - I didn't particularly care what other people thought, but I was surprised at how noticeable the change in our mindset was. How easily we don't realize where our food comes from. How hard it is to find certain things...
2.) What we wouldn't compromise on: It was particularly difficult to find laundry detergent. Our normal brand is Gain. That seems to be imported from Canada. So is everything from Proctor and Gamble, from the wording on their packaging. Tide pissed me off because the bottle was basically a great big American flag. Also imported from Canada. We ended up with a choice between FAB and Purex. We chose Purex, with fingers crossed. Because the thing is if we mess up our clothes, I'm not sure how we'll buy new ones. More on that later...
3.) What we weren't sure about: Most products say things like Distributed for (INSERT NAME HERE), Cincinnati, OH (or other American city). What does this mean?? We spent rather an inordinate amount of time trying to decipher some of the verbage, including looking it up on the internet via smart phone and using an APP where you can scan the bar code and learn more. A couple times, like with our Taco Bell hard and soft shell taco dinner kit, we had to sort of shrug our shoulders and say "we think so". This isn't exactly in line with our goal, but it definitely taught us we have lots to learn and some product research to do. So it was okay. Brilliant Idea Here: Someone needs to make an App where you can scan the bar code and it just says "Made in America" or "Not".
4.) What we cheated on: Yeah, we cheated. I bought three green bell peppers which were clearly marked "Mexico". There were none, and I mean zilch, from the U.S.A. In fact, there was hardly any produce from the U.S.A. It took several minutes of digging and searching to find U.S.A tomatoes. I couldn't buy raspberries or strawberries or blueberries or bananas. So I caved and bought bell peppers because I need them and because I promised myself that when the farmer's market in town opens again this spring, that I will go there and buy my produce. What is both ironic and highly annoying about this is that we were in HEB, which means nothing to anyone who isn't from Texas, but HEB is BIG on Texas and America and all that jazz, and all their commercials are highly patriotic in terms of "all our stuff comes from America". In fact, they have these really sweet commercials where some farmer is standing in the middle of his crop fields proudly proclaiming "this is the produce department at HEB". Well guess what - it's not. Unless that farmer is the only American in all of Guatemala. Because it seems that most everything in that department is from Guatemala. Disappointing to say the least, particularly because I love those commercials and I love HEB produce even more.
5.) What we just plain didn't buy: We did not buy a digital meat thermometer, which I desperately need because I keep accidentally washing mine and I've gone through like 3 in the past year. I have one of the kind that is not digital and I don't trust it so whenever I use it I end up spending the entire meal worrying about whether or not I am ingesting E Coli. But there were three different kinds in HEB and all were "Fabrique en China". Great.
6.) What we totally nailed: the laundry detergent, eggs, meat, and oranges were all definitely made in U.S.A.
All in all, it was a little frustrating because I suspect that some items are highly misleading on purpose in terms of where they are made. There are probably no real laws about full disclosure regarding product origin or manufacturing when it comes to things like spaghetti sauce or chips or detergent. So when you slap a huge American flag on the front of your packaging, you're telling your consumers that your product is American, and it's pretty sleazy that, in fact, it's not. Regardless, I think overall we were pretty successful for our first shopping experience, with a couple missteps here and there.
Next time we'll probably try to do the shopping on a hangover-free day and see what happens.
Note: The place where said hangover was acquired is a locally owned dive bar where we drank Coors Light all night long. So it's like we were just working on our new goal; so actually we should have been congratulating ourselves this morning on helping to send that guy's kids to college.
Some things we faced this morning:
1.) Normally grocery shopping is a super easy and enjoyable part of our week. We do it on Sunday mornings while the rest of Texas is at church, thereby avoiding the crowds. Usually we go out for breakfast first and then go to the store, where we buy pretty much the exact same products from week to week. We're not adventurous eaters, most of you know. Such a routine is easily accomplished in pretty much any state of mind. But we're not doing routine anymore. Our lives have changed now, and even though I want to say it's for the better - things aren't as simple. This morning we did the shopping a little hungover and later in the day because we got a late start (on account of the fact that we went out with our friends who drank us under the table until about 1 a.m.). We were in a bit of a fog and moving slowly, and probably being the exact people that we hate at the store. Of course, in the name of our goal - I didn't particularly care what other people thought, but I was surprised at how noticeable the change in our mindset was. How easily we don't realize where our food comes from. How hard it is to find certain things...
2.) What we wouldn't compromise on: It was particularly difficult to find laundry detergent. Our normal brand is Gain. That seems to be imported from Canada. So is everything from Proctor and Gamble, from the wording on their packaging. Tide pissed me off because the bottle was basically a great big American flag. Also imported from Canada. We ended up with a choice between FAB and Purex. We chose Purex, with fingers crossed. Because the thing is if we mess up our clothes, I'm not sure how we'll buy new ones. More on that later...
3.) What we weren't sure about: Most products say things like Distributed for (INSERT NAME HERE), Cincinnati, OH (or other American city). What does this mean?? We spent rather an inordinate amount of time trying to decipher some of the verbage, including looking it up on the internet via smart phone and using an APP where you can scan the bar code and learn more. A couple times, like with our Taco Bell hard and soft shell taco dinner kit, we had to sort of shrug our shoulders and say "we think so". This isn't exactly in line with our goal, but it definitely taught us we have lots to learn and some product research to do. So it was okay. Brilliant Idea Here: Someone needs to make an App where you can scan the bar code and it just says "Made in America" or "Not".
4.) What we cheated on: Yeah, we cheated. I bought three green bell peppers which were clearly marked "Mexico". There were none, and I mean zilch, from the U.S.A. In fact, there was hardly any produce from the U.S.A. It took several minutes of digging and searching to find U.S.A tomatoes. I couldn't buy raspberries or strawberries or blueberries or bananas. So I caved and bought bell peppers because I need them and because I promised myself that when the farmer's market in town opens again this spring, that I will go there and buy my produce. What is both ironic and highly annoying about this is that we were in HEB, which means nothing to anyone who isn't from Texas, but HEB is BIG on Texas and America and all that jazz, and all their commercials are highly patriotic in terms of "all our stuff comes from America". In fact, they have these really sweet commercials where some farmer is standing in the middle of his crop fields proudly proclaiming "this is the produce department at HEB". Well guess what - it's not. Unless that farmer is the only American in all of Guatemala. Because it seems that most everything in that department is from Guatemala. Disappointing to say the least, particularly because I love those commercials and I love HEB produce even more.
5.) What we just plain didn't buy: We did not buy a digital meat thermometer, which I desperately need because I keep accidentally washing mine and I've gone through like 3 in the past year. I have one of the kind that is not digital and I don't trust it so whenever I use it I end up spending the entire meal worrying about whether or not I am ingesting E Coli. But there were three different kinds in HEB and all were "Fabrique en China". Great.
6.) What we totally nailed: the laundry detergent, eggs, meat, and oranges were all definitely made in U.S.A.
All in all, it was a little frustrating because I suspect that some items are highly misleading on purpose in terms of where they are made. There are probably no real laws about full disclosure regarding product origin or manufacturing when it comes to things like spaghetti sauce or chips or detergent. So when you slap a huge American flag on the front of your packaging, you're telling your consumers that your product is American, and it's pretty sleazy that, in fact, it's not. Regardless, I think overall we were pretty successful for our first shopping experience, with a couple missteps here and there.
Next time we'll probably try to do the shopping on a hangover-free day and see what happens.
Note: The place where said hangover was acquired is a locally owned dive bar where we drank Coors Light all night long. So it's like we were just working on our new goal; so actually we should have been congratulating ourselves this morning on helping to send that guy's kids to college.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Buying America - Methodology
Having not actually purchased anything yet - it's difficult to say how I feel about this challenge so far.
However, I know we will run into some challenges and so here are a few ground rules and disclosures:
1.) We have lots of foreign made items in our house/life already. Two of our cars are foreign - and I am not allowed to drive the other one. Because Adam thinks I don't know how to drive stick shift. Even though I had a stick shift car long before I met him. And he's reading over my shoulder at this very moment. Also, our electronics are foreign. We're not getting rid of any of it. Just to be clear.
2.) Gas - we are not even sure how to go about knowing whether our fuel comes from America. Exempt. Just sayin.
3.) Some product packaging just says "Packaged for (COMPANY NAME HERE) in Cincinnati" or whatever. I don't know how to find out more. I guess look it up on the Internet. For certain products, like toilet paper or essentials, this is just going to have to be good enough until we figure out how to be smarter at this whole thing.
4.) Not sure whether or not we should stop buying products manufactured by companies whose Headquarters are located in foreign countries. I'm leaning towards Yes. Still figuring it out, though, so for now we're going to pretend this is not a question and just get used to our new way of thinking on a smaller scale at first.
5.) Clothes are going to be impossible. I honestly believed the "Faded Glory" brand from WalMart was made in America. I am not sure why - I think the commercials are misleading. Anyway, it is not.
6.) Even though wine and beer will be easy - I am sad because the only wine I can get at the gas station right up the road is Australian. So now I can no longer tell Adam to stop at the gas station for "chips" and then run in to get wine. Now I actually have to ask him to take me to the liquor store. Minor annoyance.
That's all I can think of at the moment. I think it's enough of a start. We have to go grocery shopping this weekend and need an awful lot of stuff (like laundry detergent, our favorite brand of which I just noticed is not made in America), so the first true indicator of what this is going to be like will happen in the next couple of days. More to follow!
However, I know we will run into some challenges and so here are a few ground rules and disclosures:
1.) We have lots of foreign made items in our house/life already. Two of our cars are foreign - and I am not allowed to drive the other one. Because Adam thinks I don't know how to drive stick shift. Even though I had a stick shift car long before I met him. And he's reading over my shoulder at this very moment. Also, our electronics are foreign. We're not getting rid of any of it. Just to be clear.
2.) Gas - we are not even sure how to go about knowing whether our fuel comes from America. Exempt. Just sayin.
3.) Some product packaging just says "Packaged for (COMPANY NAME HERE) in Cincinnati" or whatever. I don't know how to find out more. I guess look it up on the Internet. For certain products, like toilet paper or essentials, this is just going to have to be good enough until we figure out how to be smarter at this whole thing.
4.) Not sure whether or not we should stop buying products manufactured by companies whose Headquarters are located in foreign countries. I'm leaning towards Yes. Still figuring it out, though, so for now we're going to pretend this is not a question and just get used to our new way of thinking on a smaller scale at first.
5.) Clothes are going to be impossible. I honestly believed the "Faded Glory" brand from WalMart was made in America. I am not sure why - I think the commercials are misleading. Anyway, it is not.
6.) Even though wine and beer will be easy - I am sad because the only wine I can get at the gas station right up the road is Australian. So now I can no longer tell Adam to stop at the gas station for "chips" and then run in to get wine. Now I actually have to ask him to take me to the liquor store. Minor annoyance.
That's all I can think of at the moment. I think it's enough of a start. We have to go grocery shopping this weekend and need an awful lot of stuff (like laundry detergent, our favorite brand of which I just noticed is not made in America), so the first true indicator of what this is going to be like will happen in the next couple of days. More to follow!
Buying America - The Reason
Not that there should be an particular reason why Adam and I want to buy products manufactured and grown in America, but I have one.
If I was a better patriot and ambassador of my country, the reason would simply be that I support my fellow citizens and, while the global economy is important, I believe in the products my countrymen can create and want to further our local economy. But I've spent the last 32 years buying whatever I want whenever I want, without much thought towards where any of it was made and that's a hard habit to break (actually, it's a hard habit to recognize) until something you see makes you cringe and wakes you up to the harsh reality of what is happening around us. And by that, I mean unemployment and poverty and families struggling to feed themselves because they can't find work, even low-paying work.
And this all shone under a glaring light for me on Tuesday, as my husband, our friends, and I drove from Taos Ski Valley, NM back to our home here in Texas. I found clarity of vision on the mountain roads of northern New Mexico. The gift shop in Taos Ski Valley was filled with merchandise for tourists to stock up on and bring home for family and friends. Coasters, shot glasses, shirts, and picture frames were of course abundant. I bought a couple shirts without thinking twice. Always a sucker for a souvenir tshit, I am. And I almost bought the picture frame with TAOS laser-cut into the reclaimed spruce. But when I looked at the back it said "Made in Canada" and was $20. What first stopped me from buying it was the fact that I'm certain there are identical picture frames being sold in Aspen, Vail, and Crested Butte - all made in Canada. Some factory in Canada is getting lots of work to churn out identical souvenir items for hungry travelers in rich tourist towns. So, pretty much only because I don't want some mass-produced picture frame to display my memories, because I would prefer something original, I put the frame back and did not buy it.
And then we began the 12-hour drive back home and the reality of the situation hit a little closer to home. Because not 30 minutes down the mountain is a town called Arroyo Seco which looks as if the recession arrived there and took up permanent residence about 20 years ago. Even the elementary school has seen way, way better days. It takes a good 5 hours to get out of New Mexico from Taos (by way of Texas), and it never reallhy gets any better. Every 20 miles or so you come across another broken down town. This could be a result of many things - the remote area, farming/agriculture communities dependent primarily on sustaining themselves, a focus on seasonal tourism. Regardless, I found it disturbing to think that these people might actually be in need of steady work and that the very souvenir items that are keeping the local shops alive aren't even made locally. All those people sitting around, hoping for a break - and we're farming out our livelihood to a foreign country to save a few bucks.
Despite the possibility that much of my sentiment is naive, it weighed heavily on my heart throughout much of the drive home.
So, right, wrong, or indifferent - this is how the idea came to be.
If I was a better patriot and ambassador of my country, the reason would simply be that I support my fellow citizens and, while the global economy is important, I believe in the products my countrymen can create and want to further our local economy. But I've spent the last 32 years buying whatever I want whenever I want, without much thought towards where any of it was made and that's a hard habit to break (actually, it's a hard habit to recognize) until something you see makes you cringe and wakes you up to the harsh reality of what is happening around us. And by that, I mean unemployment and poverty and families struggling to feed themselves because they can't find work, even low-paying work.
And this all shone under a glaring light for me on Tuesday, as my husband, our friends, and I drove from Taos Ski Valley, NM back to our home here in Texas. I found clarity of vision on the mountain roads of northern New Mexico. The gift shop in Taos Ski Valley was filled with merchandise for tourists to stock up on and bring home for family and friends. Coasters, shot glasses, shirts, and picture frames were of course abundant. I bought a couple shirts without thinking twice. Always a sucker for a souvenir tshit, I am. And I almost bought the picture frame with TAOS laser-cut into the reclaimed spruce. But when I looked at the back it said "Made in Canada" and was $20. What first stopped me from buying it was the fact that I'm certain there are identical picture frames being sold in Aspen, Vail, and Crested Butte - all made in Canada. Some factory in Canada is getting lots of work to churn out identical souvenir items for hungry travelers in rich tourist towns. So, pretty much only because I don't want some mass-produced picture frame to display my memories, because I would prefer something original, I put the frame back and did not buy it.
And then we began the 12-hour drive back home and the reality of the situation hit a little closer to home. Because not 30 minutes down the mountain is a town called Arroyo Seco which looks as if the recession arrived there and took up permanent residence about 20 years ago. Even the elementary school has seen way, way better days. It takes a good 5 hours to get out of New Mexico from Taos (by way of Texas), and it never reallhy gets any better. Every 20 miles or so you come across another broken down town. This could be a result of many things - the remote area, farming/agriculture communities dependent primarily on sustaining themselves, a focus on seasonal tourism. Regardless, I found it disturbing to think that these people might actually be in need of steady work and that the very souvenir items that are keeping the local shops alive aren't even made locally. All those people sitting around, hoping for a break - and we're farming out our livelihood to a foreign country to save a few bucks.
Despite the possibility that much of my sentiment is naive, it weighed heavily on my heart throughout much of the drive home.
So, right, wrong, or indifferent - this is how the idea came to be.
Buying America - Day One
Today marks Day #1 of what is sure to be a most challenging year for me and Adam. That is because we have decided, starting today, to buy only products grown or made in America for one full year. Of course there are some questions about how we're going to accomplish this, and what exactly this means.
For example, we need a "bye" on fuel, because I'm not sure how we would do it.
And we need to figure out how to know where some products are made, because the packaging says things like "packaged in Texas" - which does not tell the whole story.
I plan to write about our experiences - what things we just couldn't get, what was hard to find, what cost more, what cost less. It's probably going to be difficult but I think it will be eye-opening.
So, wish us luck and I will keep you posted.
For example, we need a "bye" on fuel, because I'm not sure how we would do it.
And we need to figure out how to know where some products are made, because the packaging says things like "packaged in Texas" - which does not tell the whole story.
I plan to write about our experiences - what things we just couldn't get, what was hard to find, what cost more, what cost less. It's probably going to be difficult but I think it will be eye-opening.
So, wish us luck and I will keep you posted.
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