Who knew that we were all at such risk of constant dehydration? I mean pick up a magazine or watch an ad on tv, and sooner or later, you'll be convinced that your body is in severe need of hydration, electrolytically imbalanced and lacking in peak performance.

Oh puhlease.  When I grew up, kids playing sports drank... well, water.  And that water?  It came from a tap, not a plastic bottle with a label.

But if I were buying the need for electrolytic sports drinks (and trust me - as a girl who occasionally imbibes too much of a different kind of liquid, there is something miraculous about potassium-laden sports drinks for a hangover cure), you can rest assured that I would be reaching for the ONE Natural Coconut water.  As with many things, I was a complete skeptic until I tried it.

I promise - that stuff is GOOD.

-Heather... off to remember a world where a bench of kids playing basketball all drank out of the same refillable water bottles...

So Biters, we are having a running debate here at the Bite.  We're trying to decide whether or not there would be a benefit to having more local content for you readers. 

On the one hand, communities inspire - it's so easy to get your friends to adopt something in your backyard.  And seeing the fruits of one's labors inspires.  And of course, supporting local businesses that have their hearts in the right places... you can never go wrong there.

 But we'd love to hear from you - is there enough local green content/services/products/inspiration to justify a tip JUST for you, in your area?  If yes, where are ya? If no, is the blog a good place to start to have those local options?

-Heather... off to plan an outing to Yield, my local, sustainable wine bar...

The only car service I can remember using is the limo we rented for high school prom, and I'm one year shy of being legal to rent a vehicle, but since moving to San Francisco one of my guiltiest pleasures has been taking taxis everywhere I go. This in spite of the fact that the city's got phenomenal public transportation, and you gotta pay almost three bucks just to step into a cab (that's where the meter starts). It's a total splurge expense, but whether I'm coming home with four too many pints of Anchor Steam in my stomach or exhausted post-yoga, since giving up my car in November, taxi rides are one of my deepest, darkest eco-inefficient secrets. Luckily, in town we've got quite a few Ford Escape hybrid taxis roaming around and more are being added to the local fleets all the time, so my guilty pleasure doesn't have to be so guilty.

-Toshio... off to hail a cab to dinner and a movie (Reno 911!: Miami)...

I once had a friend who constantly referred to defrosting as "dethawing..."  Was never quite sure what to make of that.  Part of me always wanted to tease a little and ask her why she needed to freeze something already frozen.  But instead, I just had an internal struggle: I mean, do I TELL her, and run the risk of making her feel judged?  Or do I let her go about her life, using the wrong word, ACTUALLY being judged by other, meaner people?

Sort of like my brother's firm childhood commitment to the word "earloaves" (lobes) and my previous attachment to the phrase "for all intensive purposes..." (intents and purposes).

-Heather... off to dethaw some soup...

So
yeah, I grew up in Orange County, CA, in a gated community (and I'm
still having trouble proving to friends that I'm not the most sheltered
guy in San Francisco).

Living
in a gated community is weird for a number of reasons - security jeeps
(not hybrids) are always roving, for one. But growing up, the thing
that most irritated me is the fact that our community didn't let you
grow native plants in your yard. Chaparral-type
flora is normal for Orange County, but the community association wanted
a more New England/Old Country vibe - big lawns, water-intensive
flowering bushes and manmade ponds. None of which, of course, are
actually meant to exist in the climate.

So
I was especially annoyed when those roving security jeeps stopped on
the cul-de-sac adjacent to our street, scoped out our backyard from two
houses over (did they stand on the jeeps, or what?), then sent my
parents a cease-and-desist letter to the effect of, "How could you
betray our association's trust, and let a native bush grow in your
backyard? We'll be watching." This, in spite of the fact that the bush
was officially not visible from the street, unless, maybe, you were
crazy enough to stand on your jeep and peer into a backyard two houses
over from an adjacent cul-de-sac. And then only just.

The
occasional family trip to Palm Springs compounded my dislike for
excessive non-native flora and (this is gonna sound harsh) misuse of
water. Come on, people - lawns just weren't meant to exist in the
desert. Which is why I'm pro-fake lawn. When I think about them, I
can't help but think about the façades at Universal Studios, though.

I'm not sure I'll ever have a lawn, period, but I'm totally rooting for all those desert-bound Biters who decide to fake it.

For Thanksgiving my girlfriend Jen Nash came out to visit and to teach me how to cook a few things.   Well, I definitely learned a few things:

1. I didn't like Tofurkey, really

2. You shouldn't put hot soup in a blender.  Yeah, we made this onion based soup and decided it was too chunky, so dumped it in a blender. I put the lid on and hit "blend" and wow did it ever.  It exploded all over my kitchen.  I am still finding chunks.

See why I am a bit leery about cooking? 

Off to heat up some Amy's soup (on low) and enjoy the 32nd snow storm here.... jb

When it comes to the world of personal care products, many people refer to me as the devil.

I don't think I have a female friend on the planet who I have NOT hooked on some product or other.  My mom is no exception.  Currently, her nighttime bed routine involves shea butter application on dry elbows, feet and hands.  So, once again, I'm sort of the devil for introducing an addition to the routine.

I figure it could be worse.  I could be trying to get everyone to drink as much wine as I do instead...

 -Heather... off to get coffee in the insane SF sun...

Hmmm. Just in time for this tip, my skin has gotten all scaly and dry - mainly because of a suspiciously mental experiment I did last weekend.

In a fit of inspiration on Saturday, after finding that I had no exfoliating scrubs left (but strangely feeling a deep-seeded urge to scrub myself), I decided to get creative. Who needs exfoliators, anyway? Rummaging around the bathroom, I stumble across a neat new pumice stone, given by a friend. One side is really smooth and fine-grained and the packaging refers to it as a "polisher." "Lovely," I think. After all - Blooming Lotus and Pharmacopia make my favorite exfoliating scrubs, and THEY call them polishes... A few minutes' vigorous rubbing on arms and legs seems to hurt more than it should, and draws a little blood, but hey - it must be working - after all, it is a POLISH...

Now obviously, this choice was bordering on mental deficiency. Note to self: don't try to exfoliate arms and legs with a pumice stone, no matter what the packaging says.

-Heather... off to drink cocktails and beer goggle myself all evening ("Girl, you are HOT when you're bleary-eyed. And scabbed.")

I have to admit, I have never been too into wedding "stuff."  I think they are beautiful and all that, but I do hope I will have the means to hire someone to take care of the details.  I mean, I am not even sure I know why Wedding Favors are necessary... isn't there enough "stuff" surrounding weddings? However, if I must get/give one, would love something that would pay it forward... you know, make a statement and help educate and be fun.  Like what?  What about a hand-help carbon calculator, with a gift-certificate code for offsetting their wedding travel?  Now there's an idea...  if one of you rich Biters wants to produce a prototype, just co-brand it with the Bite and you can keep royalties.  Yeah, I am in a good mood.

UNTIL JUST NOW.

I am back at this coffee shop, and was trying to enjoy a nice morning with music, change of atmosphere, etc.  And this woman just came in with 3 very hyper children, and drew a semi-circle around where I was sitting in a big comfy chair in the corner, and said, "you need to play in here."  I couldn't believe it.  I packed up all my stuff, unplugged my computer, moved myself, my coffee, my bag, my coat.  She said, "sorry about that."  I couldn't even respond.  I mean REALLY.  Really?  Is this how it will be... some sort of "entitlement" that comes with having kids?  It really just killed my urge to have a rug-rat... god help me if I act like that. I mean, I would have been fine if she came over to me and asked, explaining why somehow that was the ONLY space to let the kids play (and question:  when did a coffee house become a nursery?).

Okay, thanks for letting me rant. 

Off to go somewhere else... they are singing like this is their stage. I just wanted a cup of chai latte in a bit of peace. Jen

At weddings when I was little I coveted the roles of both the ringbearer and the flower girl. Take your pick - I would've been stellar at either one. You grow up, and your desires/jealousies change. Now I covet all the wedding gifts (although the whole "blissful matrimony" thing seems pretty cool as well). I need a new toaster oven. I could really use a quality wine corker.

Wedding registries are pretty much awesome for all involved - the couple gets exactly what they want, and there's absolutely no guesswork involved on the part of the giver. Happy couple, happy guest. What really has me jonesing to tie the knot, now, are all the new green gift registries that offer stuff I would so totally use. Organic bedding? Check. Bamboo tableware? Check. Finally an alternative for those of us who go for stuff not usually found at Pier 1. 

-Toshio... off to think about what a great flower girl I woulda made...

In case you hadn't noticed, sometimes in this blog, we have to write about things in which we don't have truly PERSONAL experience.  While our tips are researched and vetted and carefully considered, sometimes, we just honestly can't say that we have a personal clue about the topic at hand.  To date, this has probably been most challenging when talking about kids and babies (and the occasional time we need to try to understand men's shaving needs).  But today, we launch Wedding Week...

Two 33 year old singles trying to fathom what it REALLY takes to put on a wedding...  (Although, I gotta say - by the time you are 33, you've seen enough weddings that you do tend to have a pretty good clue). Obviously, we have lots of information and thoughts to share.  We just don't have a whole lot of our OWN stories on this front.  (Love and sex?  Sure.  Sign us up.  I could write about love for years.  Marriage?  Not so much.)

So, I throw it out to you Biters out there.  We need you.  Please chime in this week if you have additional stories to share about greening the world of weddings.  We've got 5 days of tips, covering everything from carbon offsetting the festivities (my favorite idea, and honestly the one that will have the most positive overall eco-impact) to dresses to the best places to register for gifts..

Let us know your thoughts.  (As always, we'll let you know ours).

-Heather... off to stare blankly at my calendar in bewilderment because I have NO weddings on deck to attend in 2007...

So funny - writing today's tip, I did the math for the Personally Speaking.  Suddenly, I realized that it really has been FIFTEEN years (something about spelling it out seems right) since I had a Valentines where I wasn't traveling or it wasn't long distance or I wasn't single and toasting to myself/my girlfriends/some random flirtation.

For whatever reason, while noteworthy, this fact doesn't bother me at all.  Valentine's doesn't bother me at all.  On the contrary... I kind of love the day.

A celebration of love and romance and hot looks and all the simple and complex ways that we say "I sign up for you" each and every day?

Sign me up - it's a thing so worth celebrating.

-Heather... off to find perfect flowers to prep for Valentines...

• My first tricycle.  Apparently I was 3 when I got it, but I remember riding it - brand new with a bow on it - around the linoleum on the kitchen floor.
• Being sick while still in a crib.
• First kiss/handholds/etc. Of course.
• The birthday of every ex-boyfriend I've ever had.  Middle names, too - in fact, these items take up space in my brain that I'd really like to have back - I need that room for more important data, please (don't you sometimes wish you could "clear the cache" on your harddrive that way?).
• How I made a good Thanksgiving cornucopia during art in kindergarten and the teacher showed the whole class.
• The first time I ate sushi, in college, and thought I'd throw up, but choked it down so I could seem cool (with my near constant sushi fetish these days, this memory always makes me laugh).
• Every word in the entire freakin' poem "The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere" by Longfellow, which I memorized JUST FOR FUN (???) one summer as a kid.

But for whatever reason, I have NO idea when/where/or how I learned to use chopsticks.

-Heather... off to contemplate more grand forgotten mysteries of life, like remembering when I learned to whistle...

So many people say that, right?  Well, supposedly some people just have sensitive skin, and we aren't really allergic.

Anyhow.  When I was 8 my grandma knitted me yet another sweater, and my mom yet again forced me to wear it.  Sans undershirt, I might add.

 So all I remember is walking through the mall around Christmas and saying, "This sweater itches me" - and my mom just about ripped me a new one with one look, as of course I was being disrespectful to her mother, my grandmother.  Next?  I said, "But it does!!" and took it off, to reveal this big red welts. "SEE."

Anyway, now that I live in MT and am outside a lot, I am a HUGE fan of Smart Wool... Nature is the best source for keeping warm.  The Smart Wool people make gear that works, and somehow doesn't itch.

Off to go out to dinner ... we're in NYC and it is a COLD 12* while it is 60* in Bozeman... that is soooooooo not right!  I didn't pack my Smart Wool... only have fancy pantsy clothing that definitely is not warm!!  Jen

Generally, this happens sometime around 7:30 in the morning. SOMETIMES, I'm lucky and I actually shower before 2. On a good day, my teeth are brushed and I'm out of my PJs before noon.

People think working from home would be sooo great. Sure, there are the great things (for whatever reason, being able to be there for the cable guy seems to be the common analogy used - like we are all constantly having the cable guy come install something), but by and large, all of our SF empoyees are looking forward to new office space.

In the meantime, I'll covet the office space of my friends, and the casual carpools (great one in the East Bay here) they use to get there.

-Heather... off to do a VERY clean, green commute... walking to a meeting since I'm in NYC..

For years, I've wondered why on earth I've wanted certain men who came into my life. These guys showed up, and they were all wrong for me in sometimes very pertinent ways... neat freaks, control freaks, too young, too noncommittal, or arrogant, or drunk...

And still, I wanted them, even if I didn't, really. Give me an unavailable guy who lives thousands of miles away? Sign me up, please.

For years, I've felt like an idiot for wanting these men that I don't REALLY want at all.

Thankfully, the miracle of modern science is slowly but surely convincing me that my attachment to these inappropriate men is not really my fault. In fact, I now blame oxytocin for every inexplicable attachment I have ever formed. (Well, every inexplicable attachment I have ever formed for a guy I've slept with, I should say.)

Oxytocin is a wonder-hormone. It's what floods a mother's body after childbirth so that she doesn't want to throw out the screaming infant. It makes her bond with this little creature who just ripped its way through her body (and it continues to flood the body during nipple stimulation, which further bonds the mother during breastfeeding). All in all, we can liken oxytocin to an "I love you before I have a rational reason to" drug.

But apparently, oxytocin - this bonding wonder-drug - also floods the bodies of both men and women during orgasm. Which suddenly makes the "Hey - we had sex and now I really want to be with you even if I don't really want to be with you" thing make a lot more sense to me. It makes the weird attached/addicted post-coital feeling seem a lot less lunatic. And in the end, it gives me an excuse for every crazy email I've ever written.

And suddenly, I hate myself a lot less for being inclined to jump on a plane to visit whichever unavailable man is populating my life at the time. It's no longer my fault.

After all, I don't really want him. The oxytocin just told me to.

-Heather... off to warn my parents not to read today's tip...

To due clickititus in my pointer finger, it is very hard to write this blog.  I am chicken pecking with my other nine fingers.  Speaking of chickens, had a Chicken Coop Consultant over last night.  I am totally going to build one.  Plus he is hot.

Off to not click anymore, I bet I saved at least 20 acres of forest while on that conference call. - Jen