I haven't shopped in a clothes store since Gore invented the Internet.
Do you remember those commercials where a man in a department store would look under a clothes rack and find a few other men hiding in the rack watching football while their wives or otherwise female escorts shopped? That didn't exist when I was growing up. In fact, the advent of chairs in the women's department didn't cross some brilliant marketers head until I was in my late 20s. I am from the generation of males who grew up with their mom dragging them to those giant department stores like Macy's in the women's section while she shopped for herself. It always started on a bright Saturday morning with "Cary, you need a shirt" and ended up, many (many) hours later, driving home with a car trunk full of clothes. I might have a new shirt, but usually not.
Yes folks, I lived the nightmare. It was a bad enough childhood ordeal that I have a sister with the same condition I have - IFreakingHateShoppingophobia. This is extremely rare - not that I have a sister, but that a female has the same issue from the traumatic events growing up.
When I returned from NYC I decided to freshen my wardrobe with the latest in fashion. Of course this was done online, like anyone else who has IFreakingHateShoppingophobia. The shirts fit like a glove, except in a shirt type of way. I might add that I look fabulous in them. It's easy to buy online... you go to your closet, pick out a shirt or pants that fit you, look at the size and order the same size. Two or three days later you too can walk down the runway.
Unfortunantly they apparently changed the size of pants since I ordered the same size I always do and they were too tight. Tight as in I had to unzip the zipper so my jewels could breath. Anyone who knows me (I'm looking at both of you) would understand instantly that I didn't return them. Instead I took a different tact and decided to go on a diet so that I could continue ordering the same pant-size I have since I was in my 20s. Okay 30s.
This morning I woke up a little down since I knew I needed a haircut; Since my hair started it's journey of thinning this means the time-in-chair gets shorter even as the cost gets larger. As an aside, why can't inflation work on my hair also?
As I get ready to shower for my trip to Haircuts-R-Us I eyed those pants that refused to fit. I looked at my belly... the pants... the belly... the pants. I recklessly dived into the ill-fitting pants and low and behold they finally fit after months of military-like dieting (without the military or hard-core dieting part)!
Now that I know they fit and I'm looking sharp with my new haircut there's only one thing left to do: I dressed up in my new pants and went to McDonalds for a celebration feast.
Does anyone have an extra button... about 3/4 in diameter for a pair of brown pants?
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Saturday, July 3, 2010
One for the reader(s)...
Both of my readers independently told me this week that they were going to stop reading my blog unless I met their demands. One was simple: add another blog post (check).
The other reader was more demanding.... he required a follow up to my break-out blog post and expose "Recycle This" that rocked the nation and created an internet storm. I almost retired from that one blog post, but in the end I decided a $10 bribe from my mom wasn't enough to stop blogging. Besides, I don't think she's good for the money.
He's proud of his composter. In a weird way. Then again, anyone who is proud of their composter has to have a mental defect. This probably explains a) why he reads my blog and b) he not only took pictures of his composter, but sent them to me.
Those who are squeamish seeing vegetables slowly degenerating into soil, avert your eyes now. Children under 10 should be asked to leave the room. For here, my reader(s), is the composter in all it's glory:
I still get shivers when I see the beautiful soil. Compost... it's not just for lunch anymore.
For those who are wondering how you too can get into some composting action, here's the make and model. I find it ironic that it uses electricity.
As an aside, I thought long and hard about doctoring the photos and to add a little poo... in the end I decided while my composting reader would get it, my other read might be grossed out.
The other reader was more demanding.... he required a follow up to my break-out blog post and expose "Recycle This" that rocked the nation and created an internet storm. I almost retired from that one blog post, but in the end I decided a $10 bribe from my mom wasn't enough to stop blogging. Besides, I don't think she's good for the money.
He's proud of his composter. In a weird way. Then again, anyone who is proud of their composter has to have a mental defect. This probably explains a) why he reads my blog and b) he not only took pictures of his composter, but sent them to me.
Those who are squeamish seeing vegetables slowly degenerating into soil, avert your eyes now. Children under 10 should be asked to leave the room. For here, my reader(s), is the composter in all it's glory:
As an aside, I thought long and hard about doctoring the photos and to add a little poo... in the end I decided while my composting reader would get it, my other read might be grossed out.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Recycle This!
A friend of mine just received a new toy, and as the old saying goes “boys love their toys”. This isn’t you average gadget though… it has a green aura around it that makes the tree huggers out there go giddy. My friend bought a composter.
He’s been bragging about this for weeks. His wife initially made him buy a cheaper brand (after all, it makes dirt) but he returned it before even opening it and bought the classy model. It has it all – an indoors, top loading and odor free composter than makes dirt in 14 days instead of months using nature. You can throw materials into it anytime and it apparently just sits there tumbling until dirt pops out the bottom into a box.
I refuse to buy it.
It’s not that I’m not “green” because I am. Like most American’s I recycle whatever they will pick up curbside - plastics and paper, but not glass which they’ll pick out and throw on your front lawn… I kid you not. I also give money to several “green” oriented efforts when they remember to contact me (they never forget after the first time you give them money) and even once went to help with cleaning up a forest.
I won’t buy it for one simple reason – I can’t compost my poop. Now hear me out; when I go green with something, I like to go 100% or not at all. For me if it’s worth doing, do it all way. And when I compost, I want all my organic waste to be recycled into dirt. That means those end stalks from celery that no one eats, the green top of carrots, leaves from my non-existent yard, and my poop.
My buddy’s composter does accept cat and dog poop, but not human poop. The lack of a seat to deposit the poop is a clear indication they don’t want to recycle it. What’s the point of composting if you can’t compost everything?
Think about it – you could get back nine square feet of space in your house if you didn't have to have a comode, not to mention the savings in water, if only they could design a composter that recycles everything. Without that feature, it’s just yet another gadget taking up space…
He’s been bragging about this for weeks. His wife initially made him buy a cheaper brand (after all, it makes dirt) but he returned it before even opening it and bought the classy model. It has it all – an indoors, top loading and odor free composter than makes dirt in 14 days instead of months using nature. You can throw materials into it anytime and it apparently just sits there tumbling until dirt pops out the bottom into a box.
I refuse to buy it.
It’s not that I’m not “green” because I am. Like most American’s I recycle whatever they will pick up curbside - plastics and paper, but not glass which they’ll pick out and throw on your front lawn… I kid you not. I also give money to several “green” oriented efforts when they remember to contact me (they never forget after the first time you give them money) and even once went to help with cleaning up a forest.
I won’t buy it for one simple reason – I can’t compost my poop. Now hear me out; when I go green with something, I like to go 100% or not at all. For me if it’s worth doing, do it all way. And when I compost, I want all my organic waste to be recycled into dirt. That means those end stalks from celery that no one eats, the green top of carrots, leaves from my non-existent yard, and my poop.
My buddy’s composter does accept cat and dog poop, but not human poop. The lack of a seat to deposit the poop is a clear indication they don’t want to recycle it. What’s the point of composting if you can’t compost everything?
Think about it – you could get back nine square feet of space in your house if you didn't have to have a comode, not to mention the savings in water, if only they could design a composter that recycles everything. Without that feature, it’s just yet another gadget taking up space…
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Kate is Premium
A good friend of mine has 1 ½ year old baby girl, Kate, which acts like a typical person her age. This same friend also has a problem with cats… as in he has too many of them. To be fair, I’m not sure if the cat-problem is really his issue, his wife’s, or (most likely) a combination of the two but that’s immaterial.
Anyway I’m talking with him on the phone a couple months back and all the sudden I hear him yelling Kate’s name and saying he has to go. A while later I get the photo below from him:
Now I’m no expert on kids but there are several things wrong with this picture. First is that the cat doesn’t seem to mind that macaroni and cheese is in its fur. Granted there are only ten or so noodles trapped, probably just enough for a meal for later.
More importantly I am horrified that, after careful study, this is a generic mac and cheese, not the premium noodles with real cheese. The noodles in this photo are obviously from the “standard” package… notice the thinness of the noodles and how they are just barely covered with the “cheese” mix.
If my friend loved his daughter, or had any gumption to be a good parent and provider, those noodles would be up to half inch diameter, and the cheese sauce would be generously and thickly applied to each individual noodle. The cheese on the pictured noodles appears to have come from a powdered source mixed with water. I bet they eat better in prison.
So to my parent audience, please don’t make this same mistake. Think of the kids after all…
UPDATE: I've been informed that the noodles are organic, home-cooked and were slathered in real cheese before the cat licked the cheese off.
Anyway I’m talking with him on the phone a couple months back and all the sudden I hear him yelling Kate’s name and saying he has to go. A while later I get the photo below from him:
Now I’m no expert on kids but there are several things wrong with this picture. First is that the cat doesn’t seem to mind that macaroni and cheese is in its fur. Granted there are only ten or so noodles trapped, probably just enough for a meal for later.
More importantly I am horrified that, after careful study, this is a generic mac and cheese, not the premium noodles with real cheese. The noodles in this photo are obviously from the “standard” package… notice the thinness of the noodles and how they are just barely covered with the “cheese” mix.
If my friend loved his daughter, or had any gumption to be a good parent and provider, those noodles would be up to half inch diameter, and the cheese sauce would be generously and thickly applied to each individual noodle. The cheese on the pictured noodles appears to have come from a powdered source mixed with water. I bet they eat better in prison.
So to my parent audience, please don’t make this same mistake. Think of the kids after all…
UPDATE: I've been informed that the noodles are organic, home-cooked and were slathered in real cheese before the cat licked the cheese off.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Green Mountain Energy finally goes green
My energy company promises I'll get 100% of my energy as renewable energy which makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. I recently learned that allegedly a not insignificant percentage of the renewable energy source is from landfill gases which produces more waste than other "non-renewable" sources, but that's for another day.
For those who don’t know me – like anyone I don’t know is reading this – I live in a garage apartment behind a house divided into four apartments and logically it makes sense I’d be in unit 5. However when they built the garage apparently the electricity company decided that I lived in unit B with the garages I live over being unit C.
When I signed up with Green Mountain, they kept sending my bill to unit B instead of 5. I didn’t think much of it, and apparently either did the person living in unit 2, where the post office sent the bill. At least I didn’t think much about it until they switched off my power. Granted it's my bad to not start asking around ahead of time, so I can't offer any excuses.
I call my old electricity company and they said to contact Green Mountain Energy. I call them and they ask my account number which I obviously don't have. We finally get to my address and they said they sent me a couple bills, put a notice on my door, etcetera. Sure enough unit 2 got my cut-off notice, but Green Mountain did manage to turn off the power to the correct unit - mine.
To make a long story a blogs length, I remember just wanting power and paid whatever they asked and they turned it on the next day. I asked them to send the bill to my email account, but they couldn't. They can only send me a bill via postal mail.
The energy company that not only produces clean energy but has the word green in it’s name can’t send electronic bills, but only on paper. My bank, gas company, phone, cable, internet provider all offer to email me my bills if not overtly trying to get me to sign up for paperless bills. None of them has the word green in them yet can stop paper bills. None has the word Energy either but that's not what this blog is about this week.
Last week Green Mountain finally made it into the green age offers a paperless-bill option! Of course I immediately signed up. The only way I knew about it was that I logged into my account since to pay my bill when, as usual, I didn’t get a bill from them…
For those who don’t know me – like anyone I don’t know is reading this – I live in a garage apartment behind a house divided into four apartments and logically it makes sense I’d be in unit 5. However when they built the garage apparently the electricity company decided that I lived in unit B with the garages I live over being unit C.
When I signed up with Green Mountain, they kept sending my bill to unit B instead of 5. I didn’t think much of it, and apparently either did the person living in unit 2, where the post office sent the bill. At least I didn’t think much about it until they switched off my power. Granted it's my bad to not start asking around ahead of time, so I can't offer any excuses.
I call my old electricity company and they said to contact Green Mountain Energy. I call them and they ask my account number which I obviously don't have. We finally get to my address and they said they sent me a couple bills, put a notice on my door, etcetera. Sure enough unit 2 got my cut-off notice, but Green Mountain did manage to turn off the power to the correct unit - mine.
To make a long story a blogs length, I remember just wanting power and paid whatever they asked and they turned it on the next day. I asked them to send the bill to my email account, but they couldn't. They can only send me a bill via postal mail.
The energy company that not only produces clean energy but has the word green in it’s name can’t send electronic bills, but only on paper. My bank, gas company, phone, cable, internet provider all offer to email me my bills if not overtly trying to get me to sign up for paperless bills. None of them has the word green in them yet can stop paper bills. None has the word Energy either but that's not what this blog is about this week.
Last week Green Mountain finally made it into the green age offers a paperless-bill option! Of course I immediately signed up. The only way I knew about it was that I logged into my account since to pay my bill when, as usual, I didn’t get a bill from them…
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Who is that masked man?
Many of you, my readers, have asked me to describe myself. I can not do this since it would come across as egotistical. Fortunately there are (many) others of you who have written books on me. From this collection I offer to you, my favorite reader, the Compendia De Cary:
- He performed the rain dance backwards… and the sun came out.
- Even when he’s sleeping people say he’s breathtaking
- He once played blackjack and lost… just to see what it was like.
- Microsoft really did ask him to help design Windows 7
- He went once to a psychic… to warn her.
- He raced and beat a Porsche… on foot
- He avoids going to Oklahoma just so there’s one place he’s never been
- Pigs run in fear that clean will rub off him onto them
- He once told a bad joke… just to see what feeling uncomfortable felt like
- He won a wrestling match with a bear… using only his teeth
- When he says jump, no one asks how high and just start jumping
- Police often question him just to hear him speak
- If her were to mail a letter without postage, it would still get there
- He crashed his hard drive… to see what the “blue screen of death” was all about
- His personality is so magnetic that he is unable to carry credit cards.
- He never says anything taste like chicken… Not even chicken.
- He speaks fluent French, in Russian
- His charm is so contagious, vaccines we’re created for it.
- When he was abducted by aliens they asked him to probe them
- He lives vicariously through himself
- He's a lover, not a fighter... but he's also a fighter so don't get any ideas
- People hang onto his every word, even the prepositions
Monday, May 17, 2010
Twit This
The other day at work I wanted to see how many of you had commented recently on my blog (zero it turns out) but I had forgotten my blog web address. I did what any person on the planet would do (except in China where it’s blocked) and googled Narcissistic Musings. Much to my horror I found that others have thought of the same brilliant phrase.
Take for example the blog Musings of a Narcissist (hosted by Google), where the author states “I'm poor, fat, and single and it's really starting to piss me off”. It hasn’t been updated since July 1st, 2008. Apparently she either got thin, rich, married, or gave up being pissed - good for her.
Or the even more cleverly named Narcissistic Somniloquist (one who talks about themselves while they sleep). Now why couldn’t I come up with a fantastic phrase like that? Could be due to having to look up what Somniloquist meant. The author doesn’t update often and seems to have too many entries on the happenings in the oil industry… don't ask me how this ties into the blog title.
Oddly, there were tons of entires at Google that purportedly examined the narcissistic tendencies of those who have Twitter accounts. This reminded me that I have an account too, but couldn't tell you what my account details are since the day I signed up. Even having not logged in for over two years I get an email every once in a while letting me know I have yet another follower. It’s always a female who probably wants me to "friend" or "twit" her, or whatever it's called, so she can try to sell me something but still I’m flattered I have about 50 followers I don't know and have certainly have never tweeted.
I went through six pages at Google and couldn't find a single reference to my blog. This blog is hosted by Google. I'm thinking I might need to change the background color or even the font of the blog.
Take for example the blog Musings of a Narcissist (hosted by Google), where the author states “I'm poor, fat, and single and it's really starting to piss me off”. It hasn’t been updated since July 1st, 2008. Apparently she either got thin, rich, married, or gave up being pissed - good for her.
Or the even more cleverly named Narcissistic Somniloquist (one who talks about themselves while they sleep). Now why couldn’t I come up with a fantastic phrase like that? Could be due to having to look up what Somniloquist meant. The author doesn’t update often and seems to have too many entries on the happenings in the oil industry… don't ask me how this ties into the blog title.
Oddly, there were tons of entires at Google that purportedly examined the narcissistic tendencies of those who have Twitter accounts. This reminded me that I have an account too, but couldn't tell you what my account details are since the day I signed up. Even having not logged in for over two years I get an email every once in a while letting me know I have yet another follower. It’s always a female who probably wants me to "friend" or "twit" her, or whatever it's called, so she can try to sell me something but still I’m flattered I have about 50 followers I don't know and have certainly have never tweeted.
I went through six pages at Google and couldn't find a single reference to my blog. This blog is hosted by Google. I'm thinking I might need to change the background color or even the font of the blog.
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