Elegantly Random

Dirty girl?

Alright, friends. Here's a discussion I've been longing to have with the internet community for ages and just haven't gotten around to writing about: cleanliness, and specifically, public restroom practices.

Today I went in the restroom behind one other girl about my age. I needed to blow my nose, so while I was taking care of that, I watched as this girl stuck her head in all three stalls and rejected each of them one by one. "Dirty?" I asked her. "One has no TP, the other two are dirty. I'm going downstairs," she said.

Maybe I should preface the rest of this tale with a little background on me and my views about cleanliness. So here's the deal. I'm not a super-clean person. I almost hesitate to type that because I have a feeling that's going to make me sound like a dirty person, which I don't think is accurate. But if I'm being honest, I can't call myself super-clean. I feel like I deserve props at the onset for the having the guts to be honest about this.

I shower every day. Although I wash my hair daily, I don't always scrub my body with soap unless I've been doing something to become filthy, like I've had an especially nasty workout or I've gotten literally soiled in some way (fell in the mud, walked around in flip flops all day, etc). Using soap every day dries my skin and makes me cranky. So I use a washcloth and scalding hot water on most days. I brush my teeth in the shower, a holdover from my college days. It's handy! A second toothbrushing will occur before bed. Usually, I use the same towel for several days before grabbing a new one - I hang the towels up after each shower, because I am neat and this way they dry out quickly.  I work out every day, but rarely do I shower again post-workout, though I do spot-freshen and change clothes. I've been known to wear the same underwear two days in a row. (TMI? Is there such a thing with me, really?) I don't shave every day. I don't get waxed anywhere but my face. I don't wash my hands all the time. I'd say in a given day I wash my hands a couple of times. I wash before I cook food. I use deodorant and other sanitary products on a daily basis. I do keep a bottle of hand sanitizer on my desk.

Here's how I use a public restroom 9 times out of 10, the only exception being a truly filthy restroom. And I suspect my definition varies from some people's.

Step 1: Assessment
I approach the bathroom door and open it with my hands - none of that crazy elbow-Olympics for me. I open the stall door and assess for general cleanliness, number of free stalls, etc. 

Step 2a: Stall Prep (if needed)
If there is any leftover paper on the seat, I do not leave. I tear off a piece of TP and use that to push the paper into the bowl, flush, and then I will use the toilet. If liquid is on the seat, I attempt to determine if it's just water that splashed out from the bowl during the previous flush (because there's no reason to bail if that's the case), or if it's tinkle sprinkle. If it's the former, I will probably again grab some TP, wipe it, flush the TP and use the john. If it's sprinkle, I may walk away and wait for another stall, or I might still wipe it off and use. I figure the TP is protecting my hands from whatever, and that's fine. If there is pee in the toilet, I flush it and then use it. Anything else in there, and I'm going to walk away, because that's gross. That's my threshold, I suppose.

Step 2b: Using the Stall
Assuming all is clean and ready for usage, here's my approach. I never use seat covers unless there is something truly wrong with the seat and it is a dire emergency and I MUST use this toilet. Which is nearly never. And I don't hover. I sit right down, seat uncovered, and go. When I'm finished, I flush the toilet, with my hands and a protective piece of TP, or my elbow, not my foot. Incidentally, why do people flush with their feet? Don't they know that whatever is on their feet is 10,000 times worse than what might have been on their hands? OMG. Rage.

Step 3: Follow-up/Departure
I exit the stall, and - confession time - sometimes I wash my hands. I will wash my hands if a) I had to clean off the toilet to use it or b) I got my hands dirty while going to the bathroom. Most of the time, though, I just run them under super-hot water. And then I exit, using my hands to open the door like a filthy heathen.

Go ahead, say it. You're appalled.

Here's the deal. I realize there are germs out there. And I could lather my hands for 4 minutes after going to the bathroom, or refuse to use a toilet that's had paper on the seat. But then, four seconds later, when I push the elevator button or grab a Coke from the vending machine, it's all going to go to shit, friends. Because that button is germy. EVERYTHING is germy. I'm not a germophobe. While I generally at least rinse my hands off before leaving the bathroom, I don't soap up for 4 minutes. What am I, three? I almost never soil my hands while going to the bathroom. In fact, I'm more likely to soil my hands if I'm worrying about hovering over the seat or some other neurotic thing.

I am 1000% sure I'm in the minority here, but really, I feel like people are overly concerned with germs, and I also feel like it messes up your immune system to panic TOO much about these things. I just don't understand why people - usually women - put so much energy into making sure to never put their hands in contact with anything in a public restroom (which, by the way, is why I have to stand in line for 20 minutes to use a public bathroom and my husband is in and out in 2), but then 3 seconds after leaving the bathroom they touch any number of things coated with germs. The office coffeepot. The elevator buttons. The handles and metal posts on trains. Their coworker's desk. People only think about germs in the bathroom, because body waste is on the brain, but seriously, your kitchen sink is equally if not more filthy.

I don't wipe down my gym equipment before I use it (although I do the post-workout courtesy wipe). I have no plans to put my baby in a stroller with a plastic shield on it unless we happen to live in a place so thick with smog I can't see my hand in front of my face. I let my dog "kiss" my cheek. Maybe I'm gross...but I don't feel like I am. I have very clear, healthy skin and hair, and I almost never get zits. And I smell good. I also almost never get any kind of sickness that's not related to my weak bronchial tubes. So clearly, I'm doing something right.

Panicking about germs doesn't guarantee you aren't still covered in them, one, and two, prevents people from building up immunities. And I'm sure most of you have read all those studies that talk about how commonly used spots in your own home are filthier than public bathrooms. And if nothing else, my lack of germophobic bathroom regimen means I am literally the fastest woman in any public restroom, EVER. And my husband appreciates this.

So here's how that bathroom thing ended this morning. The chick left, and I looked in the stalls. The first one had a little water on the seat, which I kindly wiped off for the next person, and then flushed the TP. The second stall had a seat cover from the last user still stuck to it (really, rude, ladies). I used some TP to shove it in the bowl and flushed for the next user's pleasure. And then I grabbed one of the superfluous rolls of TP from one of the first two stalls and took it with me into the paperless third stall. And when I was finished, I brazenly left after a mere rinse of the hands. So far, no cholera or tuberculosis have set in.

Update: I try to avoid making edits/changes to my posts after I write them but this one has gotten a lot of feedback. I feel compelled to assure my readers that I do not use my bare hand to flush the tainted toilet handle - I either grab some TP to protect me, or I flush with my elbow. If I do use my hands, then I WILL wash with soap after. Also, Julie made a great point that she thinks it's weird that I wash my hair every day and not my bod. I should clarify. The very act of showering means I am rinsing my body off daily. I don't like to soap up all the time because I've found that it gives me very dry skin, so I usually just use water and my hands/washcloth. And I smell purty, so it must be working! :) Oh, and yes, I do floss! :)

One meal at a time.

As I've mentioned several times now, I've been reading Michael Pollen's The Omnivore's Dilemma for the past few weeks. It's a really heavy book - not so much in the sense that it's too dense to read, but the subject matter I find gets me really worked up and I have to take breaks. Breaks in which I read horrible, shitty sci-fi books. It is summer, after all.

So here's the deal with TOD and Michael Pollen. It's really disturbing. Like, it has the power to alter my mood and keep me up at night. I'm only about 1/3 of the way through the book, and I'm already so saturated with terrifying information that I've reached a point where it's hard for me to even express my thoughts about the book.

What's good about it is, Pollen manages to make some serious points about the food industry without writing a persuasive work of non-fiction. He uses the facts to show us how deeply screwed we are. The premise of the book is the simple question "What should I have for dinner?" Pollen follows the major food chains of industrialized and alternative food production to show us where our food comes from and how it gets on our plate. And it's upsetting on so many levels that I don't have time or space to share with you. 

But honestly, everyone should be reading this book, and his other book, In Defense of Food, because the fact of the matter is, plain and simple, the government and the food industry are keeping us obese and unhealthy because it is more profitable. And we should all be up in arms over our food - not just our meat, but all of our food - because it's laden with processed corn and other things that are horrible for us. Almost all of it. It's really disturbing to look into your cabinets and refrigerator and realize exactly how many processed foods you are buying - or rather, how few of your groceries are whole, unprocessed food.

And I think we generally know that processed food isn't as good for us, sort of? But maybe not. I'm here to tell you, if you had any doubts, it IS bad for you. And the more I read about it, the less I can ignore it. Just like with the meat industry, which is bad enough, but it's just a sliver of the overall bad scene we're dealing with.

That leaves me thinking I should cut out processed foods - right? But it seems absolutely impossible. Literally 70% of the things in my kitchen are in some way processed. And I'm a really healthy eater. How? Where would I even start? It's daunting, and that's why most people just shove it under the table and keep eating. But then, it occurred to me - what if I attempt it one meal at a time? It would take a while, and a lot of hard work, but what if?

So, that's what I'm proposing. A challenge, if you will, in which I set about attempting to cut out processed foods from my diet, one meal at a time. I realize that it will never be possible to do it entirely, but I feel like if I have looked very carefully at everything I eat and really made an effort, then the occasional squirt of ketchup or handful of M&Ms (things I can't really recreate myself) won't hurt me. I wonder if I will lose weight, have more energy? I wonder how much more money and time it will cost me? I wonder if the food will taste better? Will it help me with my cholesterol and acid reflux?

So the first meal is, of course, breakfast. I usually eat some cereal, but we already crossed over to making all our bread ourselves. I know this can be done. I don't like yogurt (believe me, I have tried it every which way, so don't suggest it), but I do like oatmeal and granola and the like. I also can't have a lot of dairy in my daily diet. With that in mind, I'd love your input. What should I have for breakfast? I am willing to cook things ahead of time, but not every morning.

Stay tuned.

Tree hugger in training.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about the Earth recently. I can't really pinpoint one specific thing that's causing me to do this, but it's probably a combination of moving to Seattle and being amongst the granola hippies of the northwest, downsizing to an urban lifestyle, and the reading and viewing material in our house lately.

Jay has been consumed with the works of Michael Pollen (The Omnivore's Dilemma, In Defense of Food). I've been reading Bill Bryson's science 101 review, A Short History of Nearly Everything. We've also been watching Life on the Discovery channel, among other things. When you get HD, you suddenly find yourself watching a lot of Discovery channel. The icing on the cake? We sat down and watched the horrifying documentary Food, Inc. 

Because of all these things, the conversations lately in our home have been circling around issues of food, the health of the planet, sustainability, animal and vegetable farming in America, the fishing industry, and more. And let's just say we've both found these conversations a little bit scary and a lot sobering.

Basically, here's the issue. I think humans are very self-absorbed. For one reason or another, be it spiritual or scientific or technological, most people think we're the top dog, the culmination of millions of years of evolution of life on this planet (or the magical work of God and his embodiment on Earth). But reading some things about the history of the universe has reminded me what teeny, tiny specks on an infinite radar we are, and it all feels pretty presumptuous to me. To quote Bryson,

"It is almost impossible for us whose time on Earth is limited to a breezy few decades to appreciate how remote in time from us the Cambrian outburst was. If you could fly backwards into the past at a rate of one year per second, it would take you about half an hour to reach the time of Christ, and a little over three weeks to get back to the beginnings of human life. But it would take you twenty years to reach the dawn of the Cambrian period."

And the Cambrian Explosion wasn't the dawn of life, either. It was merely the moment (in a geological moment, meaning millions of years), 530 million years ago, of progression from earlier lifeforms to more complex ones. Think about it. We've only been here for the blip of an eye. And we could easily vanish in another blip, and likely will at some point.

And the Earth will probably go on, as it has in the past when other things have occurred to wipe out a species. But all that said, we're kinda fucking it up. We're escalating things to a level that's a little scary, for us and for our other friends who share our space. And I'm sorry to go all touchy-feely granola girl on you, but I kinda feel bad about it. Two years ago, when I first really found out about the realities of farming in America, I was pretty horrified, but you know, it's hard to make big changes. Something has to happen, a light bulb has to go off in your head. And the more I know, the less I can ignore the truth, which is that humans are raping the ever-living shit out of the planet.

And regardless of what that means long-term, after I'm dead, it sucks for me NOW. It sucks to realize that the food you eat, be it animal or vegetable, isn't good for you, in fact may be poisonous. It sucks to realize that the air we breathe is poisonous because of all the cars we drive and the lead we create. It's not fun to open your eyes, and so most people don't. You know the offshore drilling crisis has a lot of people angry, because a bunch of politicians said it was okay to drill offshore. Why anyone ever would believe that, I don't know. Use your head. You are drilling for oil inside a huge ecosystem. What could go wrong here?

So here's where we are, Jay and I. Our eyes are open. We're making some changes around here, talking about some more things. We already eat healthy, for example, but we're upping our commitment to eating non-processed foods. Do you know how hard it is to avoid processed foods? It's hard. We're talking about reusable goods - I'm looking into reusable feminine products for my "time of the month." We're cutting back on the meat we eat, and we're going to attempt to eat as much meat as possible that's been raised sustainably. We already ditched a car, and now we only use a tank or less of gas per month. We moved into a smaller, more energy-efficient abode. Granola? Maybe, but it's the right thing to do.

Michael Pollen's mantra in his books is, "Eat food, not too much, mostly plants." He doesn't mean be a vegetarian - in fact, he supports eating meat in small amounts. But what meat are you choosing? How has it been farmed? How were the animals treated? Was it even good for you? Same with the plants you put in your body - were the doused in pesticides? Chances are, they were. What resources were used in order to bring you your food? Pollen says food is the most important thing you buy, so spend more on it, not less. Buy local. Aim for quality, and also for integrity.

We'll never be able to get it all right - at least, not anytime soon. But our eyes are open, and we're trying.

The myth of the northwest.

There's this universal belief out there that if you are north of San Francisco, it rains all the time. Ever since we declared we'd be moving to Seattle, the first thing people say to us when we talk about it is "Hope you like rain!" or "Good luck with that Seasonal Affective Disorder." Encouraging, isn't it? It's actually fairly infuriating, really. It always astonishes me how humans are so hard-wired to rain on each other's parades, literally. We all jump to the negative in a situation as quickly as you can say "tut tut, it looks like rain."

Despite my repeated assurances to friends and family that I actually rather enjoy gray and gloomy days, counter-intuitive as that may be, people just won't let up on the notion that the Northwest is depressing. That it rains every single day and people walk around in states of manic depression, shrouded in nylon rain gear and walking soggy dogs. Did anyone see Twilight, set in Forks, Washington and filmed in Oregon? That's what people picture when I tell them where I've moved.

The first time we came to Portland, in November, it rained for all but about three hours of the 3 days we were there. In those three hours, the sun shone through the clouds, but the rest of the time it was drizzly and gray. But it wasn't unpleasant. It was about 50 degrees and the rain was light enough that I didn't need an umbrella. I actually embarrassed myself by putting one up at the Saturday market - no one else in sight even had an umbrella, let alone used one.

Our first trip to Seattle was in December. It didn't rain much at all, aside from a few minute sprinkles. It was very, very cold - freakishly cold, we were told - with a nice mix of sun and clouds. Pleasant.

During our January visit to Seattle, I experienced rain for the first time. Again, it was in the mid-50's and the rain didn't warrant an umbrella. Again, it actually was partly sunny for two of the three days we were here. I had lunch with my friend Chris, and I asked her as the sun shone through the coffee shop window, "What's the deal? Where's all this rain I'm hearing about?" And she smiled and said, "It's a myth."

Here's what I've learned in a week of living here. It is a myth. It's an urban legend, and I'm starting to think that someone cleverly created it so that people wouldn't overpopulate what is easily one of the coolest cities in the entire damn country. Last Saturday, when I arrived, it was raining lightly in the morning, and then the sun came out for the entire afternoon. Every day since then, it has been about 50/50 clouds and sun. On any particular day, it either starts out brilliantly sunny and then clouds roll in, or it starts out cloudy and the sun cuts through. Sometimes, there is misty rain, but I've barely seen any all week long, unless you count the 15 tiny droplets that fell on my cell phone while I was sitting on the porch one day. It rained overnight a couple of times, and dripped on me slightly when I took the dog out late at night.

You know what else? While our friends in Charlotte got dumped with more snow, it's been 55-60 here during the day. Everything is green. Everything smells like fresh earth. There are flowers in bloom all over Denny Park, across the street from us, and buds popping out on the trees along the streets. The dogwoods are blooming. Each time I take my dog for a walk she joyously smashes her nose into every single bloom we pass. It's SPRING here. I look around and I think to myself, this is a secret paradise that no one even realizes is HERE. 

I don't even really understand how it's possible that it's so fabulously mild here - not as cold as it should be, not as harsh. How is it that we're so far north and yet it's so much warmer than it is in even parts of the Southeast? I know there are meteorological explanations, but I'm just going to say thanks, Mother Nature. I feel like I'm part of one of the best-kept secrets in the world! I'm not going to say it never rains, it's never cloudy, but depressing it absolutely is NOT.

Before this year, I had heard a little here and there about Seattle and Portland, but seriously, they're off the radar for so many people. And they're amazing. Washington and Oregon are two of the most beautiful states I have ever seen, and these cities are both absolutely glorious. And this whole weather thing is a finely-crafted EXAGGERATION, I tell you. Maybe I'm weird and I just really don't mind the weather, but it's not that bad. Seriously. And the damp means gorgeous greens and lush colors. Sure, there's "cloud cover for 220 days a year here." I'm happy to be part of this fabulous fairy tale.

Friends, get your butts to the Northwest. It's lovely. And I hear it barely rains in the summer.

I do believe in spooks! I do I do I do!

This morning on my favorite radio talk show, Bob & Sheri opened the phone lines and challenged callers to convince Bob of the existence of paranormal activity. Several people shared stories of strange occurrences in their homes, on vacations, etc. I'm not sure whether skeptical Bob was convinced or not, but it was definitely a fun kick-off to the Halloween weekend. It's a holiday I've always enjoyed, aside from the obnoxious trend of chicks using it as an excuse to dress like whores. Like they don't do that on any other weekend night. But I digress.

Being an agnostic type of gal, I don't really have any beliefs in particular about what happens to us when we die. And I think maybe that's why I can't discount the possibility that there IS such a thing as ghosts and spirits and the like. I've talked with several people over the years who have shared personal accounts of noises and activity they couldn't explain, eerie happenings in their homes or workplaces. There are dozens of shows devoted to the paranormal watched by people all over the world. Every historic town on the globe makes money giving ghost tours. If there's really no such thing as ghosts, would so many people have so many stories?

I guess the same thing could be said for religion, huh? If there were nothing to it, would so many people believe in some form of God? Digressing again!

I have only ever had one experience that falls into the paranormal activity category. When I was a senior in college, I was a resident advisor. Our college owned many houses that lined the perimeter of our campus and used them for student housing. That year, I lived on the first floor of a big, 100+ year-old brick mansion on the very outskirts of campus. It was sort of isolated and sat on a huge lot, back from the road and with wide acreage around it. The house was three stories tall and 16 women lived in it. It had a legitimate stone cellar, which no one enjoyed doing laundry in. It had been updated to make it user-friendly for so many people, with several added bathrooms, the kitchen transformed into a bedroom, and the fireplace covered to avoid hazard.

At the beginning of the year, I was alone in the house for two weeks during RA training. I had a key that opened all the doors in the house, so that I could check and prepare each room before the girls arrived for move-in day. On the first night I was living in that house, I woke up in the middle of the night because I heard sounds above me - footsteps on the stairs two floors up. It really startled me, because there was no one there yet aside from me, and all the room doors were locked. I had purposefully checked every single room that day to make SURE the house was empty and re-locked each door, trying each handle. When you're 21 years old and a female living alone in a big house, you do NOT forget to lock every door and you make SURE you're alone before you go to sleep. That house was EMPTY.

So I decided, well maybe it wasn't the stairs. It's an old house, and I have lived in a LOT of old houses over the years. It could have been "old house noises." I tried to go back to sleep, but then I heard it again. Footsteps. I got up out of bed and cautiously made my way to the door, the keys in my hand. I was determined to re-check the house to be sure I was alone. As I unlocked my own door and started to open it, I heard a BANG above me - a door slamming. Hastily, I re-locked my door and grabbed the phone to call my boyfriend.

"What it is?" he asked sleepily.

"I think there's someone in the house with me - will you come over?" I whispered.

(Sure, I could have called campus security, but boyfriends trump rent-a-cops, right?)

So he came over, and I let him in the (locked) back door. We went around the house and we opened every single door to every single room, checked thoroughly for humans and spirits, and re-locked them. We also checked windows, fire escapes, bathrooms, the basement...Nothing. I made him stay the night, I was so spooked.

I would like to say that was the only time I had an experience like that in that house, but it wasn't. Off and on for the two weeks before move-in, and the days I was alone in the house between semesters and at the end of the year - basically anytime I was the only person in the house and it was all silent - I heard noises. Footsteps on the stairs. Water running. Laughing and talking. Doors opening and closing. Strange creaks. It was seriously like there was a family living in the house that I just couldn't see. Other girls told me they had heard similar things when the house was relatively empty. I asked the residence life staff and - get this - they all acknowledged there were some stories, but refused to tell me more. Which is pretty ominous if you ask me. I thought about going to the library and researching the house, but I decided that since nothing hostile was going down, maybe it was better NOT to know and get even more spooked.

I never saw anything, and I know sounds are suspect, but all I can say is, I would not be surprised to learn there were ghosts in that house.

So, heading into Halloween, a great time for playful spooking, I'd love to hear from you, my awesome readers. Do you believe in ghosts? Has anything eerie ever happened to you?

Have a safe and Happy Halloween weekend!

The peskiest pest.

In case you hadn't realized it, I've been a bunch of places in my lifetime. I've lived in six states and visited 32. I've been to Canada, England and the Bahamas. And believe me, throughout all these travels, I have intimately experienced a lot of pests. I'm categorizing "pest" as something that bites you and can leave a nasty scab, lump or welt. I'm leaving out spiders and snakes here and going for more icky and regional pests. As recently as last week, I could make a pretty good argument that I'd encountered some of the worst pests in the US and probably win most any debate on the topic. But then...then I went to Maine in the summertime, and everything changed.

In order to give you a bit more background here, let me share with you some of the varmints I had previously considered for the top spot. I'm gonna need photographic evidence to support my argument, so if you're easily grossed out this may be the time to cut your losses and run for the hills (with plenty of bug spray and cortisone cream).

Chiggers

They're teeny - nearly microscopic - little mites that burrow holes in your skin and leave awful red sores that itch like the dickens. It's important to note that chiggers eat skin, unlike other nasty insects that drink blood. They live in tall grass in the southern and midwestern (hot, sticky, sweaty) states and they love to venture into the sweatiest parts of your body where your clothes fit tight - around your sock cuffs, underwear or waistline, bra line - you get the idea. They are AWFUL and your chigger-infested body will look like this:

Ticks

I'm gonna go ahead and put ticks higher than chiggers on the awful list, just because they attach themselves to you and suck your blood like a leech, can be really, really hard to pull off and then leave a horrible, painful welt - and that's IF you manage to get them off of you before they become engorged in your flesh and you have to be rushed to a hospital to have them removed, and IF they don't give you deadly and terrifying Lyme disease. Plus, ticks are found all over - wherever you've got woods, you might find a tick.

That picture just made me throw up in my mouth a little.

Leeches

As gross as they are, I can't wholly hate leeches. Not all of them suck blood, not all suck human blood. But when they do, they latch on tight and suck till they've had their fill. At least they let go when they're sated, and have been used for medicinal purposes. But as some of you may know, I know a girl who had a summer camp experience with a leech that was less than pleasant and I just cannot abide them. Not to mention they are found in most kinds of water, fresh or salty.

And now that you've had that sunny revue of MY favorite nasty biting insects, allow me to introduce you to the black fly.

It's small. It's nasty. It swarms or travels solo. It bites you, sucks your blood and leaves a welt. A huge, nasty painful awful itchy welt the size of your thumb. And I got about 7 of them while I was in Maine. And as if the bite wasn't bad enough, they carry a charming disease called river blindness. Here's a picture of one of the worst bites I got during the week.

Maybe it doesn't look that bad - I happen to think it does - and it is, as I said, the size of my thumb. Not to mention that it hurts and itches. And I have two more on my left inside thigh, one on my left bicep, one on my left elbow, one on my right elbow, one on my right inside knee and a few other questionable ones scattered about. BOO! Worth it to be in Maine, but BOO!

SO! I ask you! What is YOUR most hated pest?

Another reason not to eat beef.

Last night, I had an incredibly vivid dream that I was pregnant. Of course the details are all muddy now, but I was simultaneously about four months pregnant (definitely beginning to show) and also waiting to find out if I was in fact pregnant. I know, it makes no sense - but dreams usually don't make a lot of sense, do they? There are usually two or three things going on that don't add up or really work together to create any kind of logical chain of events.

One of the strangest things about this dream (aside from the fact that idea of giving birth terrifies me in complicated and irrational ways) was that I had this pain in my stomach, kind of like menstrual cramps. And dream-Sarie was sort of trying to convince herself that she couldn't be pregnant, despite the apparent baby bump, because of these cramps. And then, when I woke up, I had stomach cramps just like in the dream - my stomach had actually started to ache.

These are the kind of dreams that really freak me out - they're so real that you wake up feeling like it wasn't a dream. I literally woke myself up because my stomach was hurting and I was feeling my belly to make sure it was still flat before I even had my eyes open. And the other thing that makes these sort of dreams so upsetting is that you really can't shake them for hours after. And I mean that literally and physically - I've had stomach issues all day, if you know what I mean, and have been in the bathroom more times than I'd care to admit. Coincidence? I think not.

Which just goes to show you how truly un-ready I am for pregnancy, that a dream like this would shake me up that much. I blame it all on the brisket I ate this weekend for Passover/Easter. This is what I get for celebrating the holiest of God's holidays by breaking my no-beef rule.

Come to think of it, all my scariest dreams involve babies. The worst dream I've ever had in my life, one that woke me up sweating and screaming so loud my mom ran in the room, was that I had a child and my mother dropped it and it died. It was awful.

So - ever have a dream that just terrified you? And not as a kid - we're talking adult dreams. I'd love to hear about it!

Darwin fail.

This is probably old news to a lot of you at this point, but last week my friend Eric sent me this wildly upsetting survey regarding the American people and their collective disbelief in Darwin's theory of evolution.

According to this Gallup research, only 39% of Americans say they "believe in the theory of evolution," while a quarter say they do not believe in the theory, and another 36% don't have an opinion either way.

*Double-take*

I'm sorry. Perhaps this is my absolute disinterest in organized religion speaking, but are you kidding me? Can the number of people who accept evolution as an explanation for mankind really be that low? Because it seems to me that if that's the case, then probably the same number of people take the Bible literally - about 25% of the American population. Which is another issue entirely - I've never understood how people can take seriously a book that's tons of centuries old and written by a gaggle of dudes who were in complete disagreement with one another. But fine, I'm the heathen in the room so I'll just let that one be.

We have a whole lot of pretty concrete scientific evidence to back up the theory of evolution. And I think you'd have to have blinders on to spend more than 2 seconds around a monkey and not see how closely it resembles a frat boy. So either the American people are in complete denial, or they're even stupider than I thought.

I'm not hating on faith here - I'm just saying, sometimes what you see is what you get. And I think you can have faith in the mystery of God or whatever higher power you want to believe in while still acknowledging the truths of science.

So happy birthday, Darwin! Turns out people think you were full of shit!

On behalf of my friend, Da Earff.

A few weeks ago, a woman began working in my office who, as it turns out, lives very close to me in the Charlotte area. For those of you who don't know, I commute 30 miles (45-50 minutes) to work and back every day, so when my new coworker suggested that we try carpooling, I knew I really ought to seize up the opportunity like a precious nugget of gold in my covetous fists.

(I have no idea where that analogy came from. But it made me giggle. I sort of pictured myself as Smeagol/Gollum in Lord of the Rings for a minute.)

But I didn't jump at the notion of carpooling. I took a week mulling it over for no good reason other than I'm very spoiled and I like having my car at my disposal. Over the past 4.5 years I have developed a routine and the idea of breaking it was so upsetting to me. No more solitary car ride - the perfect time for calling Mom or listening to NPR or silly talk radio. I would have to share my space, and likely converse early in the morning when I'm at my absolute worst. Ugh.

As a matter of fact, I really didn't want to carpool at all, and I spent several days trying to come up with a good reason not to do it. But I couldn't - because there is no sensible reason to turn down the chance to carpool, a new routine that would help me save the Earth as well as the precious dollars in my shriveled, curmudgeonly fist (wow - I'm on a roll today with the fist visuals).

And the thing is - I really do care about the Earth, or as Jen and I like to call it, Da Earff. My husband and I do a lot of things in the way of making our lives more green and Earth-friendly. We turn off lights, we unplug things. We minimize flushing (gross but good for the planet). We recycle. We re-use plastic bags and shop with cloth grocery bags. So why the hell was I being so selfish and spoiled and not leaping into my coworker's car screaming "Yes! YES! YEEEES!"?

So I slapped myself (hard) across the face a few times and accepted her offer. 3 days a week we are sharing a ride to work, and already I can see how this will benefit me. I can knit in the car! I get to save money on gas, and use up less nasty oil and contribute less to the poisonous pollution of our glorious planet. I love how most of the time, what's good for Da Earff also ends up being good for our bank accounts.

This leads directly to me ranting for a few seconds about people and cars and gasoline. At least I drive an inexpensive yet reliable and extremely fuel-efficient vehicle that averages more than 40 miles to the gallon and even a few months ago when gas was over $4/gallon cost me less than $40 to fill. At least I said yes to carpooling (albeit after a brief and selfish moment of hesitation). Why can't more people say no to their own selfish whims and yes to Da Earff? Why?! Do you know how many people I have heard exclaiming in joy that they no longer have to pay $80 to fill up their SUVs and thank GAWD they didn't trade them in two months ago when gas was through the roof? Just because the gas is cheaper now doesn't mean it will be forever - it will go up again. And though your car is cheaper to fill, it's using just as much gas as it did before - wasting the dwindling resources of our planet.

People - we have an oil addiction in this country, and it's hurting the environment. I don't care if that makes me sound like a tree hugger. It's the truth. And I beg you to ask yourself if you could scale back on car use, or rethink your mode of transportation. Do you really need a gas guzzling car? Do you really haul things around 24/7? Some of you, yes. Many of you, no. Anyway, I would argue that you can put your 2.5 kids in a Prius just as easily as you can in a Jeep - they're quite roomy. And if you do own a vehicle that literally eats Earff for breakfast, could you not counterbalance that by walking more or taking public transportation several days a week or something? We are such a selfish race, constantly abusing the planet we call home, and it needs to stop - or for heaven's sake, be scaled back a bit!

Eventually, Jay and I will be living in an even bigger city with even more public transportation, and we have already begun discussing how to eliminate one of our two cars and use public transportation in our daily lives. I encourage you to do the same.

The pineapple is off the bedpost.

In addition to being delicious, the pineapple is a symbol of hospitality. In the 17th century, wealthy landowners placed pineapples on their gateposts to signify that they were home and receiving guests. Pineapple was served as a delicacy when visitors came to call. For centuries, pineapples have been carved into bedposts as a symbol of welcome to guests who stay the night. Visitors to the city of Charleston, SC take photos by the giant public pineapple fountain where tourists and natives alike play in the cool water.

For tens of thousands of years, Mother Earth has played hostess to the human race, allowing us free reign over her lands and seas, providing us with nourishment and general hospitality. But lately, it's seemed like we may have outstayed our welcome - or at least become a nuisance. And understandably, Mother Nature seems quite ready for us to vacate the premises.

Call me crazy, but there are many people who ascribe to one or another theory that the end of mankind is relatively near, but the Earth was here long before we were, and she'll keep spinning for some time after we're gone (at least, that's what I believe). And let's hope so - after all she's put up with, Earth deserves some quiet time.

All I'm saying is - seems like in the past few years we've seen Earth kicking back a little in response to our pounding her for all she's worth - tossing up hurricanes, tornadoes, tsunamis, floods, fires, earthquakes and just about any other form of destruction you can think of in rapid fashion. Really, all she needs to do is let rip the giant volcano that is Yellowstone National Park and she'd probably be rid of us for good. It seems to me that Earth may be planning an exit strategy - for us.

There are lots of naysayers out there who don't believe in global warming, who think going green is bogus, and who generally can't be bothered to rethink the way we live - i.e. would like to continue just raping the Earth for all she's worth with little care for the ramifications. We're lazy, and it's gonna come back to haunt us in the end. And soon - the effects of our heedlessness are already at play. Exhibit A: our dwindling natural resources. The pineapple is off the proverbial bedpost, as it were.