A Man, A Car, and a Parking Spot

Today, I had to pick up lunch. And the restaurant I was picking up lunch from has a notoriously small parking lot. So I was a bit wary, but I figured there had to be some place I could pull over just to run in, grab the food (it had already been ordered and paid for) and run out.

Nope.

The lot was full. The parking spots were taken. The non-parking spots were taken. There was nowhere to go.

Except for one lone spot. That was specifically designated for a very small shop.

At first, I thought, well I'll just pull in, turn my hazards on, run in and run out. It's not like he can have me towed in two minutes.

But I didn't like that thought.

And then, it hit me. Why not just ASK the shop owner if I could park there? So, I pulled into the spot, ran into the shop, and asked if I could use the spot to pick up lunch.

"I'll just be one minute."

The shop owner looked at his watch, and said, "Okay ... go."

I stared at him uncertainly. Was he ... kidding? Was he serious? I mean, I was going to be a minute, but I wasn't about to end up with a ticket because I had taken a minute and ten seconds.

"Are... you really going to time me?" I asked pathetically.

And maybe he had been kidding the whole time, or maybe he had been serious, but I made him laugh, and he said, "No, go ahead."

So I ran. I grabbed lunch. I ran out.

"I told you I'd be fast!"

"I knew you would be"

"Thank you!"

"You're welcome."

Seriously, thank you. You made my day.

This Post Has Nothing To Do With Halloween

A few days ago, I decided to re-read Nick Hornby's "About a Boy." I love this book so much, I ended up re-reading it twice (because there aren't enough UNREAD books on my shelf, clearly) and then I went out and rented the movie on Sunday.
I'd already read the book, and seen the movie, and I remember enjoying the movie. But I didn't remember being disappointed by the movie, whereas this time, while I still liked the movie, I also felt vaguely disappointed.

I think one of my favorite things about "About a Boy" is the way Hornby manages to capture that ineffable essence of the 1990s. And of course, the movie is not set in the nineties. So while the book centers heavily on Kurt Cobain and his music, and sets up interesting parallels between Kurt Cobain's life and the characters' lives, the movie features the music of, well, Mystikal. I'm not going to say that Mystikal's songs aren't catchy, but ... that's kind of all I have to say about that.

So when the movie ended, I pulled out my copy of "In Utero" and put it in my CD player. And I was immediately taken back to the day when I purchased that CD (amazing how music can do that.) I remember my dad and I having something between an argument and a discussion about the CD. My dad heard the song "Rape Me" and was shocked that I, a self-proclaimed feminist, would listen to such a song. And I argued with the total authority that only a teenager can possess that Kurt Cobain was a total feminist! And that "Rape Me" was a feminist song!

Which is funny to me now, because I know NOTHING about Kurt Cobain. And the nothing I know now is still probably more than the nothing I knew back then. Because back then I didn't even LIKE Nirvana really. I thought they were kind of noisy and scary, and I mostly listened to Nirvana because they were cool. And I mean, I guess I can extrapolate a little and say, well, Courtney Love seems to be a sort of strong woman? So maybe Kurt Cobain was a feminist? But the truth is, I don't know. I don't know if I met him, and talked to him, whether I would have considered him a feminist.

Back then, I listened to Nirvana because it was cool. And now I listen to it because it makes me nostalgic for the nineties, and because I eventually grew old enough to appreciate their music. I'm not trying to claim any moral high ground there. Because, frankly, I enjoy listening to rap, and while rap music does give me some qualms, I mostly shut down those qualms. Because while I might be able to claim that Tupac was a feminist, and you might even be able to make the more tenuous claim that Eminem is not really that misogynistic, it's his character Slim Shady that's the real culprit, I don't think you can claim that Ice Cube's "Put Your Back Into It" has a hidden feminist meaning.

And I know the controversy surrounding "Rape Me" (now, I'm not sure I knew much of it back then.) And I know what Cobain purported the song to be, and yet, I understand how many feminists found the song untenable. To me, the song has always been laced with irony, but I sometimes wonder if that's because I have always wanted to like the song, or because that's how I really feel. I think the lyrics are ambiguous enough that you can draw various conclusions, but I think the anger, frustration, and resignation in the song suggest that at the very least, Cobain is not taking the words "Rape Me" lightly.

All of this rambling to say that, there are some musicians I believe are worth analyzing. Cobain is one. Mystikal is not. Or maybe I was trying to say that the book for "About a Boy" is much better than the movie. That's probably it. Go read the book.

All Candy Diet

Tonight I ate a salad for dinner to try and make up for the fact that I ate my weight in candy earlier today. This is why I don't buy candy. If it's not there, I'm fine. If it is there? I will eat it ALL. I'll be very glad when Halloween is over (well my scale will). I have no sense of will-power.

Must ... Stay ... Awake

Today was an exhausting day after a pretty crappy Sunday. And I'm really tired, and want to be in bed.
So why am I still up?
Because the Daily Show is on in half an hour. And they were on hiatus last week. And I'm an addict.

Pinkberry Plastic Spoon Meltdown

Well I guess it's fitting that on a day that I talked about my imperfections, that my imperfections got the best of me.
I was having a crap day, so I decided to take a walk, return the video I rented, and pick up some Pinkberry.
I have maybe an unhealthy love for Pinkberry, but I try to restrict my Pinkberrying to once a week or so. And I've been really good, and probably hadn't had any for a couple weeks, so I felt justified in getting one.
When I went to the store, I remembered to order it for 'here' so I didn't get an unnecessary plastic lid on my cup.
When the guy handed me my yogurt, I hesitated over the plastic spoons.
I was a two minute walk, max, from my apartment. I could take my Pinkberry, walk back to the apartment, and grab a spoon from my kitchen and save a plastic spoon.
But, I thought, if I do that, I won't be able to eat as I walk, and I really want my Pinkberry noooooow.
So, I grabbed a spoon, and dug in. And immediately felt guilty.
Have I become so obsessed with instant gratification that I could not stand to walk TWO minutes to my apartment?
So I decided, as penance, that I have to keep the spoon. Okay, it's not perfect as far as penance is concerned, but it's the only way I could justify it.

Imperfect

I am not at all perfect.
And neither is my non-consumerism.
I just wanted to state that up-front lest you think what I'm doing is really crazy or amazing or crazy amazing.
Because there are a LOT of things that I'm not doing. Basically because I know I can't. Or at least, I don't feel that I can right now.
For example, food.
I buy pretty much all my food from Trader Joes.
But.
I don't always buy organic because sometimes I'm feeling cheap.
I buy a lot of pre-packaged meals wrapped in a lot of plastic because I work 12 hour days and I don't have time to cook.
I drink cans of soda.
And I admit. I drink bottles of water too. Though I do try and refill the bottle several times before I recycle it.
I like to fly places because it's faster. I feel a little guilty, but not enough to stop flying. (I do buy carbon offsets though when I fly.)
I would like to change some of these habits, but I am trying to take things one step at a time. A year ago, I didn't recycle consistently, I didn't bring my own bags with me to the grocery store, I printed things single-sided, and I liked to shop.
I've changed a lot in the past year. And I know I will be changing even more.

Vegetarianism, Scrapbooking and Cults

When I first started down the road of non-consumption, I didn't put that much thought into it. My first thought was, basically, I'm not going to get crazy about this, but I'm going to try and just buy less stuff. I hadn't really stopped to consider exactly WHY I was buying less, but it just seemed like a good thing for many reasons. It's odd because in many ways I am a very rational person, and yet this isn't the first time I've embraced another way of life without really thinking. I was a vegetarian for four years in college, and I never was able to fully articulate the reasons I was a vegetarian except that ... it felt right. Hmmm. Does this make me a prime candidate for a cult?

In any case, I kind of just figured I would just not buy durable goods and that would be that. But, as I got more into this challenge, and as I started doing more reading online about people doing similar things, my not-buying-durable-goods mentality started seeping into other aspects of my life.

For example, scrapbooks. I love making scrapbooks. I know that it is not exactly the hobby of choice for most twenty-something women without any children, but whatever, it's what I like to do. Initially, I figured that scrapbooks fell in the gray area between non-durable and durable. So I thought, I could buy a scrapbook because where on earth was I going to find a USED scrapbook. But I kept putting off buying one, and putting it off, and putting it off. And finally I realized that it just felt ... wrong to buy a scrapbook especially since the whole point of scrapbooks used to be that they were made out of SCRAPS. And now yes, you can buy specialty papers and ribbons and so forth, but that's because NOW, we are all crazy consumerists.

So I decided that there was no question, I just couldn't buy a scrapbook. I would have to make one. Which posed a problem for me because I am not a crafty person by any means. Pasting photos into pre-made books was as crafty as I get. How was I going to CREATE a scrapbook. After looking at options online that involved elaborate binding of paper bags, I finally rummaged through my cupboard and came up with a nice red binder and some fancy wrapping paper. Voila! My scrapbook.



And then the total score- I was going to buy 100 percent recycled cardstock to go in the scrapbook. But I went to my mom's house for a weekend, and took the opportunity to do some cleaning out of my old room, and I found a whole pack of 100% recycled scrapbook paper that was left over from my college scrapbook and has been sitting in my bedroom at home all this time. So the result was a wonderful scrapbook created from things I already had and also free! It's not the most beautiful scrapbook I own. But I think it's my favorite.