SMALL GESTURES TOWARD WORLD PEACE

How much does a succulent go for nowadays? $3? $7 at most? Did someone descend under cover of darkness with a spade and a bag to steal $7 worth of succulent from a complete stranger? Is this really the best investment of your time?

And no, it was not my plant, but as a member of the human race, I am appalled. There were some other working titles I had for this post - they all involved profanities - and then I thought better of it. There is no need to add to the negativity out there.

My new my working theory is the current title. Let me explain. I had a job in retail at one point, where we were told over and over again not to give the customer a bad experience (ironically, the job was a bad experience for me) because a customer will remember a single bad experience for a year and they will tell all their friends, and bad news travels fast, etc. What I took from this, was that people naturally hoard their bad experiences, and it will color their outlook for a long time. All the little things can pile up over time, until the problems are no longer small, and the world can become a very dark place. There is possibly some evolutionary basis for this: remembering that eating certain plants caused diarrhea probably ensured that your genes made it into the Cenozoic era. But now that we have Imodium, it may be time to rethink that tendency.

What to do? My theory is this: I'm a believer in small gestures. Small acts of consideration done consistently will travel a long way. It's a concept taken from the school of Karma. Small gestures, to counteract the nighttime succulent stealers of the world.

What is a small gesture? I think that ca be as simple as listening when someone is talking to you. Being present. When the cashier asks if you want your receipt in the bag, you look that person in the eye and say "yes." Did you read a good article? Leave a positive comment. I have a friend who writes popular short stories. She can tell that 2000 people have looked at the story. Out of those 2000, 100 "like" it. Then maybe 7 people leave a comment. This is a very aggravating statistic. So, leave a comment.* Little things make a big difference. Be creative and see what you come up with.


*By "my friend" I mean a real separate friend. I'm not talking about myself. Reading this over, I realized how this could be misinterpreted, but I'm past the point of passive-aggressive mixed messages. I've moved on. Seriously.

NASTY DRIVERS

Ring courtesy of Nastygal

I've been penning this post in my head since early this morning, because I never know quite what to do about bad experiences, except to find a way to let them out. 

Here is what happened: I was taking the highway to work and changing lanes to get to my exit ramp. You know the drill: 1) check for oncoming cars and 2) change lanes.  So I repeated this process across two lanes - I might have crossed in front of a large truck, going about 60mph, which I think is a good speed when moving into the slower right hand lanes, when this large shiny Dodge Ram starts tailgating behind me. He seemed to appear out of nowhere.  What I think happened is this: he must have been going really fast (70-80mph) in the far right hand lane, and when I entered into the lane going 60, he must have had to put on the brakes. But I'm guessing here.

Now this is where it gets good: when the exit lane splits off into two lanes, this guy in his huge truck drives parallel to me (stopping everyone else in his lane from moving forward) so that he can stick his head out his window, call me a bitch (or other names) over and over again, and gesture wildly until he can't hold traffic up anymore. 

What is wrong with people? I'm pretty sure I didn't do anything wrong, and even so, there really is never any justification to launch into an ecstasy of profane road rage and going crazy ape-shit on a complete stranger.  What is it about being in your car that makes this behavior okay? Why do some people get worked into mouth-foaming fury over something like this? I'm sure if he was able to see himself behaving like...himself, and he was sane, he would feel deeply ashamed.

It doesn't end there. So this asshole made it a point to cut in front of me once we got off the freeway exit, but the thing is, once you're off the freeway, your freedom of movement in your large vehicle is considerably limited, and you can't leave people in the dust the way you could before, and if you cut in front of me, I will basically drive behind you for a long time afterward. This is pretty much what happened. I basically followed the psychopath all the way to his place of work, not on purpose of course, but because that just happened to be the same route I take to my place of work. This was some really great long term planning on his part. Now I know where this ass works, and the make and model of his car, and I will just take this information and sit on it, because honestly, I'm not crazy.  

DRAG RUNNING

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You can file this under WTF, because sometimes life is weird. 

At a really inconvenient time last month, I decided to get sick, and then decided that running would be the perfect way to deal with it. Check my logic:  If you have a cold, running will make your body hot = burn off the cold!  Genius, right?  

So I started running at the pace of a sick person. One of the key things about running is to prioritize distance over speed. Find a good pace that will allow you to go farther every time, or at least a good distance every time.* I have a tendency to go too fast because I become impatient, and then I burn out before going very far and fail at life. It's a mental game you play with yourself: distance first, speed comes later, so slow your ass down.  

You pass by some trees, you eat up a little road, and then you come to a moving obstacle: another jogger. What to do? Here's the thing: if you are running, and the person in front of you is running, and you get closer, then you are probably running faster than the person in front of you.   

I would describe this person as a middle aged male. Now here's what happened: I paused for a phlegm break. I wasn't going all that fast, but it was slightly faster than this guy, so I went over to his left to pass him - that's what people do, right? - and he increased his speed to match mine, effectively blocking me from going around him. I ran slightly faster, and he sped up too.  Just to be clear, it was snail v. snail, but like I said, maintaining your pace is key. You know what's weirder than running thisclose to another person? Running alongside them. You're in hostile territory.  

At some point I fell back behind him so other people walking towards us could pass, and he turned around to check if I was still there and then slowed back to his previous pace. When I tried to pass again, he increased his speed to block me, and I started to wonder - are we racing? Seriously? And that etiquette question - is it insulting if someone jogs past you? When was the last time I have ever given a rat's ass if someone passed me? Answer: never. 

So the stand off ended when we came to a downhill portion, and my nemesis sprinted to the end of the block, u-turned, and ran back the other way. Double win: he never let me pass, and I kept my intended pace and kept going, phlegm be damned.  

* Do I ever check my distance? No. 

QUICKIE ON BOSTON: I WISH, I WISH, I WISH

One of the few times I wish I had actually gone to medical school is when I hear about events like the attack in Boston, so that I would actually have the skills to help heal people.  I wish I could have a direct hand in helping.

But I live in California, and Boston is far away.  The way I try to think about traumatic events is: Now what positive thing can I do for those close to me, to counteract the negative?  My sphere of influence is small, but it's there.  I can always try to make the world better for those around me.  I don't need to make grand gestures, a series of small, positive gestures will do just fine. 

IT'S THE HAIR

Just Jared

Do you look at pictures that you like, and then try to figure out what exactly it is that appeals to you about them?  No?  Well, I do.  So here goes.

I like to look at things people wear to the airport because, thanks to crippling TSA regulations and cramped seating, everyone is forced to limit their crap accessories.  Yet, some people still manage to look amazing, and I'm convinced it's all because they bothered with their hair.*

There is nothing in the above photo that makes me think - I should buy a scarf/black t-shirt/sunglasses.  I might even have those.  The picture just makes me think that Giselle looks amazing.   And confident.  That may be a part of it too.  But what makes her not boring for me, is that her hair looks great.  There's nothing the TSA can do about arriving with great hair - they can't make you take it off or put it in a plastic bin filled with germs.  I swear - she's probably not even wearing makeup.

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Rosie Huntington-Whiteley also has great airport looks.  Basics + Great Hair.  Done.  

* And perfect genetics, but I will put that aside for the moment. 

GOODBYE, MEAT

Over a year ago, I decided to go off meat.  By "off meat," I mean off chicken, beef, and pork (and pork sub-group bacon).  I still eat fish and eggs in moderation, so I suppose that makes me a pescetarian.  So I thought I would talk a little about why.  

I regularly eat with friends and family who are rabid omnivores, and I could care less if someone ate a dripping red piece of meat, wrapped in a bun, in front of me.  My point is this:  the reasons that I chose to limit my food choices are personal, and have nothing to do with other people, and more to do with my preferences.  Here are some of them:

1)  I really like veggies, and I naturally gravitate towards them.  You know those people that mention "veggies" and "coming in their pants" in the same sentence?  Well, that's not me.  But I've never had to retrain myself to eat more fruits and vegetables.

2)  Stopping my meat habit was not a big deal.  I have talked to people who have told me that they go a little crazy without meat, they tried going vegetarian, and their bodies could not handle being deprived.  My body was chill about it; it had a "No Meat, No Problem" attitude. 

3)  Hormones.  I'm not going to go into detail here, because Skinny Bitch, The Omnivore's Dilemma, and other books can offer a much more detailed discussion than I can in one paragraph, but suffice to say, I don't want to consume livestock that is hormonally induced to grow as large as possible, as fast as possible.  What also intrigued me was Garance Dore's experiences that women from other countries often put on 10 lbs when they come to the US.  

4)  Conscious eating.  What I learned from reading books and articles, is that I wasn't actually thinking about my food, or where it came from, or what my preferences were.  I was just eating whatever was available and seemed healthy.  I have since learned that I prefer my everyday meal to be simple, and that I don't want all the flavorful, rich foods that restaurants offer.  I also decided that animals are a natural resource just like any other, and I want to limit my consumption of animals, just like any other natural resource.  

5)  Weight loss.  So now, we get down to the true, tofu and potatoes reason why I chose to give up meat.  One of the pissiest questions I get asked is whether I did this to lose weight.  Would you ask a dude this same question?  So the answer is a fat yes.  Hell, yeah man.  This is exactly the reason why I chose to do it, and why everyone else on earth should put kale on a pedestal.  I lost at most 3 pounds of pure lard giving up animals, and if you want to drastically change your lifestyle to lose 3 pounds, then put that chicken away.    

6)  Immigrant guilt.  What stopped me for a long time from giving up meat, was that fact that my parents literally starved before they came to the US.  They both grew up without means.  It seemed to be a slap in their faces that they would come here, and then I would refuse to eat food that they had been denied when they were younger.  I decided, that instead of eating meat, that I would try not to waste food, and that that would be out of respect for them.  

7)  Consequences.  My skin was not entirely chill about my choices.  One of the reasons why I don't like hormones, is because my skin is very sensitive to hormonal changes, and my skin is really good at letting me know when it is pissed.  I do believe that your skin is an indicator of what is happening internally.  So a few months into my no meat habit, everything was fine.  At about the one year mark, however, my skin started freaking out, and I got really bad cystic acne and wanted to hide my head under a rock.  (Of course, I still went to work)  No one was more upset by this than my mother.  Then, the acne stopped, and my skin is now fine.  Here is what I think happened:  I think my body was rebalancing my hormones internally.  Now that meat was out of the picture, it had to produce more hormones to replace the hormones that I was no longer consuming, and increased hormone production led, for me, to gross acne.   But, then it was over and I moved on. 

At best, I hope this article changed your life, but at worst, I just wanted to show how the decision of what to eat is specific to a person. 

MY CULTURAL ATTACHE

Just Jared

Have you ever wondered what you looked like relative to other people?  I sometimes do, and there is where Reese Witherspoon comes in.  Reese seems pretty down to earth as celebrities go, she goes to Paris more than I do, and she can also indulge herself by going shopping at whatever store is associated with that large orange shopping bag.  Hermes?   Most importantly, Reese is 5'2" which is my height, and this allows me to virtually place myself everywhere she appears. 

People Magazine

For example,

This is what I would look like walking next to Jake Gyllenhaal, if I were to ever meet Jake, he were to be attracted to me, and we were to date.  Good God, he's huge. 

Reese also helps me know what clothes to avoid, and what clothing choices might work on me, without my having to get off my couch and try things on myself.     

On the other end of the spectrum, Salma Hayek is also 5'2" and this should be included in this post as equally important information.  However, Salma is way way way too sexy and...um...let's say that my proportions are different than hers.*

* Do I have to spell it out?  Salma is curvy as all hell on a tiny little frame!  She confounds all laws of nature.  I do not confound any of nature's laws.  I obey them. 

WHO DO YOU WANT TO BE?

Kate Bosworth: Nylon

You dress to reflect who you are, or who you want to appear to be.  Am I making sense?  I don't want to be Kate Bosworth, but I do want to dress like her in this picture.  It's a study in contrasts.  She looks at ease, but sharp.  The colors are basic, but put together there's an edge to it.  If I could, I would find some version of this to wear all over the place.  

I've always liked the rocker edgy look, but too much eyeliner, leather, and grommets and it becomes a costume, like I'm trying too hard (I'm sorry, she's young, but Taylor Momsen comes to mind).  Here, the clothes just seem like a natural extension of her.  Like good makeup, it enhances the person.  

I SPY A HIDDEN LIE

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Remember when Google was like that cool older brother that gave you sudden access to all of life's illicit goods?  Suddenly, the internet was your oyster, and you could finally figure out what the Paris Hilton sex tape was all about, or any other sex tape, or find articles about cats drinking cactus beer out of trolls.  Even if it didn't exist, you could google it, and then you would know for sure that it didn't exist, because Google gave you zero search results.  Google's search engine literally improved my quality of life.

On the flip side of that coin, however, Google has been quietly building work campuses on Superfund hazardous waste sites* and making the lives of those people in them literally worse.  Here are some quotes, and my interpretations, from the linked article that I found interesting, from Google spokesperson Katelin Todhunter-Gerberg:

"Employees in the two buildings had access to the information on the intranet, but [Katelin] declined to say whether they were warned of any health risk."  Having access to information is not the same as being told that they are working on a hazardous waste site.  "Hazardous waste site" has a certain ring to it.

"[Katelin] said that employees were never in any danger."  Google employs people directly, and also hires people through contracting agencies - temp workers, who are employees of the agency, and not Google.  Technically, this statement could be true, because this site may only house temp workers and not actual google employees.

Sometimes, meaning can be found in what Katelin did not say.  "Danger" is generic, it is much more vague than, say "Employees were never exposed to hazardous chemicals" or "The measures we took to filter out hazardous chemical from our buildings kept out 98% of these toxins from all areas of all buildings, including stairwells and workspaces."  She could have said these things, or made some other very strong statement, but she didn't.

*See: Google Employees Face Health Risks From Superfund Site's Toxic Vapors.  See also, Superfund site

A PICTURE TELLS A STORY

Sometimes you go hiking, and sometimes you will see a cow, a cow with dreams twisted up with bits of aubergine.  Aubergine, she thinks would be a good name for my next one, the one I will teach to wander away from the fold, to that place I can reach only with my eyes.  I will lay her on the sweet grass away from the others, so that she will cultivate a taste for it, and all other grass will be bitter by comparison, and those that eat it will seem alien and rough.  Every day I will move her, until she becomes accustomed to the peculiar and will recognize no part of this place as her home.  

She will sleep instead, with a cold, coarse shard of curiosity.  In time, she will wander away in the night, down the hill, over the stream and through the river.  She will move with quiet assurance over the unfamiliar terrain, until eventually she finds her way over there, that place where the light reflects off the water.  When she does, the only thing we will share is the sky.  She may even miss me, but only just a little.

THANKS, JERK

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Do you want to pay someone money for insulting you?  Well, here is a golden opportunity.  Like many ads, it suggests that it is solving a problem for you, even if that problem is something that didn't bother you before that ad appeared to point it out.  Mascara ads solve that short, stumpy eyelashes problem, perfume solves that lack of romance in your life, and this book will solve that horny need to ruin your relationship problem that has been keeping you up at night.  In short, this book assumes that 1) you want to cheat, and 2) that you cannot figure out how to do it with finesse.

Cheating on your loved one is not exactly a useful skill.  I recommend reading How to Win Friends and Influence People.  I have also probably inadvertently promoted this book, but I also smell a sequel in the making ("How to Commit Grand Theft Auto, Like a Man") and want to squelch it.

PS: I honestly don't really know why this book is pink, since pink for me is synonymous with breast cancer.

HOS BEFORE BROS

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I hope I spelled Hos correctly.

There was a fight scene in Pineapple Express where Danny McBride greets Seth Rogan and James "Pecs" Franco in a kimono while celebrating the birthday of his dead cat, and managed to say "Bros before Hos" at least five times before attacking them.  The rest of the movie, unfortunately, was not as good.

This leads, of course, to my wondering how to divide your time when you have a significant other.  I have friends that completely disappear on me, friends who will only go out on "couple dates," and friends who will still find ways to hang out with me with or without their boyfriend.  I'm not going to share which friend I prefer (the third kind).  In what situations would a friend come before a significant other?  There are only so many hours in a day, in a week, and a year...  

SMOKE

Etsy

This has nothing to do with nicotine, but I've always admired photographer's ability to capture smoke.  I can't do this on my own, so I appreciate when others do it for me.

THE NEW CORSET

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I once worked with a girl* who said it cost her, ideally, $400 per month, to maintain herself.  This included such necessities as waxing (This was shared in gratuitous detail which I will not include here.  It's for the best.), tanning, hair cut and color, manicure and pedicure, and probably some other procedures that she didn't have time to share.  Oh, and by the way, neither of us are models.  This was not so that she looked spectacular every month, they were just maintenance costs.  You know, to look normal.

I thought then, as I do now, that that was insane.  Do you know what I could do with an extra $400 per month?  Then, it occurred to me that I and my high horse might be in the minority, and this might be very normal for the average female, like an extra tax for having a uterus, or the monetary equivalent of a corset - that other pointless thing that every female used to have to wear to look "normal." And now is associated with kinky sex.  Progress?

For a descent into grossness, read on.  If not, then do not proceed.

FACE SLAPPING

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You're welcome, World.  Don't ever say I don't support small businesses.

I saw this sign on an awning as I was driving around and made myself pull over so that I could traipse through several villages of pigeon feces to check it out.  Yes, it was exactly what I thought.  If anyone tries this out, I think it's $350/slap, feel free to share!

YOUR 60% FRIEND

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I was walking and chatting with my friend, N. the other day.  I don't remember what we were talking about, but I could tell that she was unhappy.  Her expression and her words didn't quite match; something was off.  What she was unhappy about, I really didn't know, so I did what I thought a normal person would do, and asked if she was okay.  She didn't look surprised, but she said she was fine.  I said: Really?  Are you sure?  She replied: Yeah, I'm fine.  Then I dropped it.  This is because N., for me, falls into the ambiguous murky region of friendship that I call the 60%.

It's perplexing, because one of the aspects of a true friendship is sharing.  I wasn't asking N. about her problems out of some vile nosy curiosity, but to see if I could help.  If the sharing doesn't happen, then you are only able to sense something that should be talked about, and then go about ignoring it, which is weird.  I've done it, but it's weird.  

On the other end of the spectrum, are friends who are not ambiguous, at all:

Your 100% Friend:  It's 3:27am.  You are hiding in the closet with a baseball bat, because some mouth breather has broken into your apartment and is going through your drawers.  Before you call 911 like a sane person, you text...your 100% Friend: OMFG Man!  OMFG!  MF is in my house!  Need to KICK ASS!!  Call 911.  Thx.  : D

The Acquaintance:  Hello there.  I probably know you from work, where you are my superior, and a tightass.  Did you see [insert name of oscar nominated film here]?  Pretty good, wasn't it?  Yeah.  Well, I'd better get back to work to finish that project before deadline!  Hahaha...

I sometimes really miss these clear cut lines.

THE GINGIVITIS MONSTER

Monsters

Okay, I have to admit, nothing about this picture is even remotely scary.  But my point was not to scare potential readers, but to discuss another point entirely, namely the scaring of children.

First point, I have no children of my own, I only have vague memories of my own childhood to rely on, and even those are fading into a squeamish blur.  This may make me less than an expert on this matter.  But here is something I do remember:  as a child, an adult removed her fake teeth to show me a large cavernous gap at the back of her mouth.  She told me that she lost these teeth because she could not stop eating candy - and this effectively put me off candy for a long time.  In short, it worked.  She made such a strong impression that even now - even though I'm pretty sure that is not how she lost her teeth - I still remember.  Is this a bad way to go about teaching children?  Should you have to pull a monster out of the air?

BEST COLD EVER

Modern Girls

About twice of year, I attend a family gathering with my grandmother, my one remaining grandparent, where each and every one of her other grandchildren has begun trotting out their significant other like some prize gelding*.  That is, except for me.  I didn't get the memo, but I do usually get grilled about how I should really work on landing a boyfriend, reminded that I am getting old, and that I am probably  now too educated to find someone.  This would all have happened yesterday.  However, yesterday, I realized I was sick and unable to go.

Best. Cold. Ever.

* Not sure if people actually do this.  Is this too British?

IDEAL V. REAL: WARDROBE MALFUNCTION

Wardrobe Essentials by coffeestainedcashmere featuring ann demeulemeester

Full disclosure time!  I have none of these staples.  Either that, or I have the shittier version that should not see the light of day (but does).  In short, I am not going to share a picture of the inside of my closet.  It's too shameful, eyes will burn, etc.    

This all harkens back to the Lululemon v. American Eagle yoga pants debate that I have been having with myself since the dawn of time.  Ideally, I would open up my walk in closet, and it would look like the above.  But in that world, I would also be taller. 

This is not to say I don't shop, don't get me wrong, but I have clearly been buying all the wrong things - like 4 sets of floral jeggings or something.  I don't mean for this to be mean spirited.  I drool over at polyvore like everyone else, and then I work with what I have. 

WALK THE WALK, BUT AWAY FROM ME

Walking with Shadows

You see the picture I have attached?  Nice, isn't it?  Artistic even.  You notice how they're just walking fairly close to each other in a straight line.  Now, because I can't leave this alone, here's a twist - what if none of them actually knew each other?  Maybe not the man holding his son's hand, but you know what I mean.

Who walks this close to a stranger?  You should further notice, that there's a lot of room for them to spread out in this picture.  They don't necessarily have to be an arms's brush away.

Applying this to daily life, I found myself the other day walking at approximately the same pace as a woman in front of me, and we were stalker distance apart.  I was, of course, behind her which would make me the stalker and her the stalkee.  Or, to look at the picture, I was shadowing her.

We could have gone on like this for some time, but we didn't.  Did she turn onto another street?  Did I?  No, I put a motor on my ass and shot past her like a rabid gazelle.  It's called being proactive.