Find eco versions of your favorite smutty activities here:
Happy Biting, all!
-Heather... off for a night of playing in NYC...
Anyway, it never occurred to me - or I was in snooze mode when he told me - that inflated tires also meant saving gas money (not to mention gas). But I did hear rumors (albeit from incredibly unreliable sources) that playing the radio and driving a dirty car lowered gas mileage. I always wondered, and at last I know, courtesy of my favorite NPR guys and yours, Tom and Ray Magliozzi of Car Talk, that those are just mileage myths. That is, unless, as Ray replied to one caller, "...you're cleaning off some enormous, mutant, three-dimensional bird dropping in the shape of airplane flaps."
-Jenifer Morgan... off to make like Icarus, minus the plunging-into-the-sea-to-my-death part...
The first time I ordered a bag of CSA produce, because you don't get to choose exactly what you're gonna get, I was forced to find ways to use vegetables that were completely foreign to my diet. They delivered potatoes that weren't in French fry form. Radishes sans ranch dressing. And kale. Just...kale.
I'd never heard of kale, much less knowingly consumed it. But now it's one of my top-5, desert-island, must-have, favorite vegetables. Braise it in a little olive oil and when you're done, sprinkle nutritional yeast on top. So, so good. Point is, CSAs are great for all the reasons we listed in the tip, but expanding your culinary horizons is a definite benefit, too.
-Toshio...off to make a sandwich (which totally counts as cooking)...
The sad truth is that for the first time in ages I just didn't look pasty and white. I spent all of Sunday working outside in my garden and got the tiniest bit sunkissed. I hate to admit it, but I just look better with a touch of sun. I know it's bad for my skin (sarcoma, wrinkles...). I often wish I were one of those Nicole Kidman types (minus the freaky frozen botox) who look great when lily white, but I just don't.
So, it's lovely Lavera sunscreen and some outdoor time for me... apparently, it keeps me looking "refreshed and rested" instead of "Hey - you look lobstered and blistery!" (which you just know they wouldn't hesitate to say).
-Heather... off to pack for Montana next week...
I just finished the book Entre Nous: A Guide to Finding Your Inner French Girl, and it contained two particularly useful insights: 1) If you feel like taking a nap, take a nap (bien sur!), and 2) make friends with whoever delivers your mail, so they'll be more inclined to deliver your courrier important. I've got the first one covered (and how!), but the second is taking some work. It's either because we literally don't speak the same language...or, well, maybe my cookies just suck.
Got tips for winning the respect and admiration of your mail-delivery peeps? Do tell.
-Jenifer Morgan... off to win postal friends before going postal...
One of my friends in college did her biology thesis on the Asian gene - the gene that makes Asians turn red in the face, and become achy and naseous after just a drink or two. She tested people who were Asian, white, and half-Asian/half-white. I'm in this last category.
Going into the lab, I expected a cocktail party. Wearing labcoats, she and her assistant would serve drinks, and then she'd break out her tape recorder and ask each of us how we were doing after drink one, drink two, drink three, and so on. Later, she'd take out her magnifying glass to inspect our complexions. Was our skin as it was when we arrived, or were we redder than red?
Tragically, she just swabbed the inside of my cheek and that was that. I never got my results, but I'm pretty sure I have the gene. I mean, I can binge drink with the best of them, but unlike my white roommate back at school, I can't roll out of bed the next day, ready to start the party all over again. And, sadly (and I speak from experience), just because liquor's organic doesn't make those hangovers any better.
-Toshio...off to say the alphabet backwards...
When I started walking to the grocery store, I put the bags in a really visible place in my kitchen. I'd forget at first, but eventually was able to make it into a habit since I couldn't avoid looking at the bags every time I went for ice cream or a pickle or whatever.
Anybody have good mnemonics for those who still can't seem to remember the damn things? Maybe put a dollar in a jar each time you forget? Wear a rubber band around your wrist on days you're going shopping?
-Toshio...off to put a dollar in the swear jar...
They shouldn't have assigned the blog to me today, because I'm going to bag on the tip. Oooh, the drama of an unregulated blog...
Here's the deal - I am NEVER going to bake one of those cake mixes. Never. Oh, don't get me wrong - our editorial team has deemed them good, and they are. I just don't believe in boxed cakes. They rank up there with fat free cheese (??) or fake sugars. Why bother? My equation? Eat less of the real thing, and bake fewer, but better cakes.
Now in this case, at least, the Daily Tip lists organic alternatives to other boxed cakes, so it's a step in the right direction. And as my mom tells me all the time - boxed cakes make mom's lives easier, because damn it - kids don't really care.
Well, I don't have kids yet. So I promise you - if you get a cake from me, I made it from scratch.
-Heather... off to figure out what cake to make for my sis-in-law's birthday...
In reality, aside from the odd volcanic pre-menstrual zit people can see through walls, let alone foundation, makeup can really accentuate the positive and eliminate the negative. And yet, there are going to be times when makeup isn't an option and you still need to look hot (when you're showering with oh, say, a young Daniel Day-Lewis look alike, for example). It's for times like these that using hydrating mascara with organic oils pays off, because it conditions your lashes so they're silkier and fuller when you go without. Natural beauty indeed.
-Jenifer Morgan... off to drool over The Last of the Mohicans...again...
Oh, for god's sake, won't you please, please, please stop it?
Stop with the soaps and the candles and the hothouse flowers and the little trinkets and the earrings I'll never wear and the tchotskes I don't want to dust off and the random tanktops with strange logos and all the shit in bags and boxes, wrapped in plastic and paper, just crying out to be left behind in the restaurant after the birthday party, because - let's face it - we're all drunk and no one can keep track of the bill, let alone a passel of presents...
I. Don't. Want. Random. Obligatory. Gifts.
And because I love you, I promise you, I will never get you one ever again. If it doesn't SCREAM your name, I'm not buying it. I don't care if it's the right time of year or not. Yes, if I know that you LOVE that candle or can't get enough of that soap or have a desperate need for that trinket, it's yours. Even if not your birthday or Christmas or anniversary, you'll get it, and I'll either save it for the special day, or just give you a Christmas present in August.
But people, please. No more obligatory gifts.
Well, unless it's wine. Even I will remember to grab that before leaving the party.
-Heather... off to take a box of stuff to Goodwill...
[13:29] hstephenson: what the eff do I write about flushing mdes?
[13:29] hstephenson: meds?
[13:29] hstephenson: good lord
[13:29] jmorgan: ahhaha
[13:30] hstephenson: um, flushing meds is bad. don't do it. the end. by heather.
[13:31] jmorgan: I've seen birth control in a river before
[13:31] jmorgan: the NuvaRings
[13:31] jmorgan: ICK
[13:31] jmorgan: mighta been flushed...
[13:34] hstephenson: ew
[13:34] hstephenson: ew
[13:34] hstephenson: ew
[13:34] jmorgan: no joke!
Now, if that isn't just vomit-worthy for a Friday, I don't know what is.
-Heather... off to feel very grateful that I only have a bottle of Advil and like 45 essential oils in my med cabinet...
Today's tip reminded me of how when I was in third grade I used to put Elmer's glue on my hands just so when it was dry I could peel it off. Don't ask me for reasons why - everyone in Mrs. Zerwas's class was doing it. Turns out the stuff is non-toxic, which is good, because I might not be here to write this today if that weren't the case.
Safety scissors aside, a lot of the art supplies out there are far from safe, so always check labels. Then, when you're done with all the worrying, check out the Imagination Factory. It's all about teaching kids to recycle through art.
-Toshio...off to see what's showing at the MOMA...
A couple weeks ago the whole SF office had a tasting. We went to Whole Foods to pick up some crackers and goat cheese, spread some Cavi*Art fake caviar (courtesy of TheGroovyMind) on top, held our breath, and all took a bite at the same time.
No one vom'ed or even made a face. The stuff's actually not bad. It doesn't "pop" in your mouth or smell like caviar (not that I'm a connoisseur), but made me think about how far fake meat has come since the first tofurky came out of the oven. Soon enough we'll have perfected fake foie gras. Bring on the braunsweiger.
-Toshio...off to eat the opposite of caviar - French fries...
Mints are a delicate issue: a roll of Mentos will have you rolling in friends (beware - they might just be using you), but an ill-timed mint offering can really offend someone. I say, chuck the politics and freshen up by drinking mint tea. Great-tasting mint teas abound (I've never sipped one I didn't like), but you can also make it yourself by pouring very hot (but not boiling) water over a few fresh mint leaves, then covering it until it's the strength you like. It's tasty, freshening, and soothes your tummy and digestive tract.
Plus, it's more demure than popping a mint at the end of a garlic-y dinner date.
-Jenifer Morgan...off to add a jigger of brandy and make a julep...
Nothing really ever causes it. It's not like I fall in love or get a great job or move to a fabulous place. In fact, usually those things happen as a result of the pixie dust feeling, they don't create it.
However, once, years ago, I know precisely when the magic dust showed up. I was living in LA, driving absolutely EVERYwhere. And for some reason, one sunny-but-cool afternoon, I decided to walk the whole seven blocks to Blockbuster to return my rentals. Seven. Whole. Blocks.
On way there, all I could think was how insanely lucky I was that I could do that - could walk to the store in the sunshine - healthy and fed and fit. I was lonely as hell during that time of my life, and all it took was a solitary walk for about 5 minutes to make me feel grateful, and for that magic cloud to start to follow me.
Maybe that is what it is for me this time, too. Walking the hills of SF and the streets of NYC... Life is just - quite simply - GOOD.
Give it a try. Maybe it's the magic formula, and the pixie dust will show up for you, too.
-Heather... off to walk to my local store, The Good Life (so aptly named for today...)
When setting the table, I don't usually use a ruler to make sure the wine glasses are set exactly ½-inch above the placemat, but folding a good napkin has always been a point of pride for me (sad, isn't it?). For years I kept it simple - the silverware pocket, the odd Cardinal's hat - now I'm focusing on my swan and butterfly technique.
When I nail those, I'm thinking of expanding my repertoire to towel folding, and I'm going to start with the hilarious-looking book The Lost Art of Towel Origami just so I can tell guests I have an elephant in the bathroom (ba-dum-bum).
-Jenifer Morgan...off to fold some laundry...
Chlorine can cause major follicle fallout, as I experienced in junior high and high school. I was on the swim team, and although I almost always wore a cap, my hair often got wet. I had to use this hardcore swimmer's shampoo every day after practice so it wasn't all crunchy and chlorine-smelling. I'd lather-rinse-repeat so many times with this heavy-duty shampoo that on really bad days, the drain would clog up with my hair.
The pool-friendly alternatives to chlorine are great. But if you're like me and don't own your own pool (the closest thing I have is a bathtub), which do you think is better: chlorine-filled pools or the ocean/lake/river?
In SF, almost no one has a pool, and the beaches are fairly clean (although last year's news of South San Francisco's spillage of 2 million gallons of raw sewage didn't make me run for my board shorts and beach towel), so the answer's easy enough. I plan on making it out to Pacifica Beach at least a couple times over the next few months. Hopefully I'll live to tell some tales.
-Toshio...off to bug my roommate, Corinne, about borrowing her surfboard...
So yeah, I'm the one who can't shut up about Wallaby's organic Dulce de Leche yogurt (though, ahem, Toshio isn't far behind). It's smooth, absolutely delish, and (hallelujah) bug-free.
-Jenifer Morgan...off to have Dulce for dolci...
Believe it or not, I'm sitting in my black Dreamsacks PJs in a hotel in NYC as I write this blog. I'm not kidding you - I love these jammies. I love them so much that I got about 5 pair for people as Christmas presents. Even have a photo of my mom, sister-in-law and me all decked out in our matching duds on Christmas Eve... (they are going to kill me for posting late-night, tired, post-drinking, makeupless, everyone-has-a-cold photos. FUN family reunion in Montana this summer for me... ;) ). Of course, the fact that they are fitted and have an Asian, cheongsam-inspired neckline is part of the draw for me. I always wanted a cheongsam, but seeing how I am about 4 sizes too big for the largest one I could find while traveling in China a few years back, I've had to settle for the PJ version.
Course I didn't quite realize how much it made me look like a badass ninja warlord until my brother (same Christmas) came up behind me while I was brushing my teeth in my Dreamsacks and said
"Hey! Where's Neo?"
-Heather... off to try not to drown in the pissing NYC rain...I hate clothes shopping. But I love clothes swapping.
There's a Buffalo Exchange about a block away from my house, so when I'm bored with my wardrobe, I'll lug a couple canvas bags full of clothes over to the Exchange and try to brownnose the buyer into buying all of my stuff. It seems to work.
I used to hate bringing clothes in to trade, because you just know the buyer's judging your fashion sense as they separate your wares into "yes" and "no" piles. It's their job.
How'd I get over my timidity? I was broke for the first few months working at Ideal Bite (we were still in the red at that point), so swapping was the only way I could keep my wardrobe fresh. Try going broke sometime - it's a great shyness killer.
-Toshio...off to make "yes" and "no" piles for the organic pizza samples we just got...
My last no-lights night main event was inspired by the amazing new German Volkswagen commercial I heard about through VSL-maybe I'm a moron (no need to chime in there), but a coupla candles, a blank wall, and a few idle hands gave way to an hour of brilliant absurdist entertainment. Learn how to form different animal shadows here.
- Jenifer Morgan... off to see if I can manage the Lochness Monster...
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