Money, Money

I just couldn't do it. I was in a small boutique in Wilmington, hoping to find a few new additions to my wardrobe. With the warm weather, I've been itching to update my wardrobe and buy some new clothes.

So I picked up a soft t-shirt, with a pretty neckline and in a dark fuschia. Pretty and feminine. And all mine for a mere $72. For a t-shirt. I just couldn't do it.

I always asked myself if one day I would make enough money where I could stop looking at price tags. Where spending a few extra $50 on a t-shirt would be beans to me. The answer is...no.

Luckily, Scott and I are in a position where it wouldn't hurt us to spend $72 on a t-shirt. But I still can't bring myself to spend that much money on a t-shirt, or much any other piece of clothing. I think, no matter how much money I make, I will always look at the price tag and think twice about how much something is worth.

Maybe that makes me cheap (it probably does). But I can also think of many other things I'd rather spend that extra money on - things that are much more valuable to me than a soft, pretty t-shirt.

Quote of the Day

I stopped by Starbucks again this morning (tall, vanilla latte, skim milk) and came across this quote on my cup.

"In a world where celebrity equals talent, and where make-believe
is called reality, it is most important to have real love, trust and
stability in your life."
--Bernie Brillstein
Film and television producer

I really like that quote. And it got me thinking about how often television and make-believe can take center stage to those real relationships. I think about the times where Scott and I eat together in front of the TV, instead of sitting at the table without the distraction of the TV. Or how we can even get engrossed in the internet, surfing the web for celebrity gossip, instead of talking to each other.

Of course, there's a balance, right? For example, we're currently watching the John Adams mini-series on HBO, which is not only educational, but inspires conversation between us about that time of our country's history. But I think we need to be careful - we all need to be careful - that our relationships in the flesh and blood always trump our relationships with a 2-D image.

Mr. Photogenic

I haven't really been following this whole Spitzer thing, other than what I've read in the headlines. I don't really care about it all that much, other than I think people in power tend to do really stupid things that they wouldn't otherwise.

However, I think it's absolutely hilarious that every picture I've seen of Spitzer and this ordeal has been less than flattering. I don't know if Mr. Spitzer is just not very photogenic or if it's that every newspaper photographer has a gentleman's agreement to make Spitzer look as comic as possible. Just a few of my favorite photos:

That's quite a face, Spitzer!

No more wisdom teeth

On Wednesday, I had all four of my wisdom teeth removed. Do you think I'm any less wiser, now?

It was a much less painful experience than I anticipated. That's the worst part, I think - the anticipation. And then when it's all done, it doesn't turn out to be that bad. That's what they say about childbirth, too, but I'm not sure I'd take it that far.

No dry sockets. No excessive bleeding. Just mushy baby-like food and careful, careful brushing. I'm so ready just to bite down on a carrot or something! The crazy part is that the doctor told me no popcorn, sesame seeds, poppy seeds or peanuts for four months. Four months?! It takes that long for everything to completely heal? Wow. This was just four wisdom teeth coming out - imaging if it was much more serious surgery. Now I see why recovering takes so long. Scott, of course, is loving the no popcorn part because now he is justified in not sharing his popcorn with me at the movies!

So everything is good, which is great, because I'm leaving Sunday for a cross-country trip: New York City for the first half of the week and LA for the second half.

Airplane Etiquette

Give. Me. One. Damn. Minute.

Poison-head arrows were shooting out of my eyes at the suit behind me. It's not that I'm a mean person, it's just that I can be passive-aggressive when I need to be. I wish it were different. I wish I could have looked this jerk in the eye and told him to "Give me a damn minute."

I'm a pretty light traveller these days. I can fit one week's worth of business casual outfits, workout clothes (with gym shoes), casual clothes, fun clothes (if it's a fun city and we'll have time to go out to a bar or two), toiletries, hair brushes, and a good book into a carry-on luggage. I just bring that and my laptop bag with me when I travel because there's no way in hell I'm checking anything (too many pieces of luggage have been lost for me not to have learned that lesson).

But what kills me is that people on the airplane won't budge an inch to let you pull that luggage down from the overhead compartment.

First, I'm amazed by the lack of courtesy people will afford each other when exiting the airplane. There seems that there should be a natural order to things: each row has it's turn to empty into the aisles, with the back rows waiting until it's their turn to go. Instead, it's a mad dash with everyone out for themselves. We've been on the plane 2 hours. Another 3.6 seconds isn't going to kill anybody.

Then, it seems that as soon as you leave your seat, you're expected to make a beeline for the cabin door. Nevermind that you might have some luggage to pull out of the bins. There's the silent impatient scowl from the people behind you, as if they are saying "Look at this conceited passenger. You just HAD to bring your luggage on board and ruin it for the rest of us, didn't you?"

Every time I'm on the plane, I feel like I'm rushing to pull down my luggage, and that I should be apologizing to everyone behind me. And these people don't give even an inch of room. I literally almost took three people out with my luggage on my last flight. It's simple physics, really. The luggage is going to make a downward trajectory arc when I pull it down and anything in the way of that arc is going to get smashed. So if you're breathing down my neck, you better step away.

Now, I'm taking my time. If people aren't going to be courteous to me and other passengers, then they can just wait. I'm going to be more assertive. The next time a passenger is breathing down my neck, I'm going to stop, turn to them and very nicely ask them to back that ass up.

I want my Girl Scout Cookies!

I finally got my four boxes of Girl Scout cookies today. Two boxes of Thin Mints, one Carmel deLights and one Peanut Butter Patties. I was talking to the Cookie Chair and apparently, there's a bit of cookie unrest in the area.

This year, the NC Girl Scout Council switched bakeries (there are two bakeries in the US that are licensed to produce Girl Scout cookies: one in Louisville, KY and another in Richmond, VA). This year, the council chose to go with the one in Richmond, and apparently people are tasting a difference in their cookies...enough to elicit a front-page newspaper article about it. Apparently, the flavors just don't "explode in your mouth" the way they used to.

Customers are upset. They are demanding their money back and there is a hotline dedicated to taking customer complaints and issuing refunds or new boxes of cookies.

News flash: these are COOKIES we're talking about. I know we get excited about our Girl Scout cookies. They are limited in quantity. You don't get to eat them everyday. But, seriously. I can understand if you got a damaged box of cookies (as some people did, due to a leak in one of the warehouses). But a slight taste difference? Come on.

I did my own taste test of a Thin Mint. It tastes pretty darn good. True, it doesn't seem quite as minty as before, but I don't know if that's because I was looking for it or because there really is a difference.

Some people get upset over injustice in their country. I guess injustice can even take the form of a Girl Scout cookie.

Crazy. Ness.

Scott and I have never made a big deal about Valentine's Day. To us, it's an artificial - and superficial - holiday that carries no meaning to our relationship.

After work, I stopped by Whole Foods to pick up a few items. Complete mobscene. I circled the parking lot about twelve times, finally resigning myself to "stalk" a leaving customer so I could confiscate his spot. Then I elbowed my way past the swarm of people hovering around the 12,589 rose bouquest on sale at the front of the store. (That doesn't count the 1,476 bouquets on sale throughout the rest of the store).

The dairy section was sparsely populated - good news for me, as I scored a gallon of milk - but the meat, wine and cheese sections were all a-tither. Seriously, people.

On my way out of the store, I happened to walk next to a man who started laughing. I gave him a quizzical look. "All together now, let's say 'I love you.'" Nicely put. Somehow, we have all got it in our heads that we need to do the same thing as everyone else in this country, to tell the people we love that we love them. Crazy. Ness.

Of course, Scott and I are not completely exempt from the madness. I did receive roses from him today, which was a bit out of the blue (he has also been out of town for the past two weeks, so that might have something to do with it). And I succumbed to the peer pressure at Whole Foods and bought a bottle of Scott's favorite wine.

I am a fifth grader

So tonight I checked out the game show that everyone's been talking about - Are You Smarter Than A 5th Grader? I love this show! It's fun because it's not just random trivia, but stuff that you should know and it forces you to reach back in the annals of your mind to remember some of this stuff.

What's neat is that you realize how much more you know now than you did in 5th grade. Sure, maybe it's hard to remember off the top of your head which element, besides Bromine, is a liquid at room temperature. But most people can reason it out (Mercury). It's neat to see how you use other knowledge you've gained over the years to apply it back to the basics. It's not just regurgitation anymore.

On another fifth grade note, I need some advice. Is it so wrong that I love Miley Cyrus' new song "See You Again?" I'm going to be honest. It's been stuck in my head all day and I'm not upset about that. I'm thinking about downloading it from iTunes but am a little worried I may be end up on 20/20. I happened to run across Hannah Montana on TV the other day, and I found myself watching the entire episode. Miley's really cute and it's a pretty good show - for a 10-year-old.

See? This is what happens when writers go on strike!

When stupid parents do stupid things

Many of you will recall the MySpace Suicide Hoax last year, where a 13-year-old girl, Megan, committed suicide after being taunted by a boy she liked on MySpace. It turns out that this "boy" was a fictional profile created by her friend (and her friend's parents) to find out what Megan might be saying about this friend behind her back.

This story has made the secondary headlines again because the sherriff of the town (which isn't too far from where I grew up) kept the case open to see if he could charge the friend's parents with anything. The case recently close because it was decided these parents hadn't broken any laws...besides just being stupid and callous.

Now, of course, I'm sure that these parents never imagined that their actions would cause the suicide of a girl. But at what point do parents bow down to the level of their 13-year-old child?

I'm not a parent, and probably won't be for a while, and I know how much parents hate it when non-parents parent. But I think it's one of those scary things you consider when you think about raising a kid in today's world. You want to be a "friend" to your child, but you have to draw a line at indulging your child's every wish. How would things have been different if those parents stood up to their child and said "No," no matter how much they wanted to protect their child.

I think that's the problem today. We want to over-protect, we want to indulge - but at what cost? And what's the line that separates having a relationship that goes beyond parent-child and becoming a 13-year-old yourself? I think it must take a lot of self-confidence to be a parent - to not worry about what your child thinks of you, especially when you have to make those tough and unpopular choices.

Maybe these parents werent' self-confident enough. They got caught up with living in their child's world and not think about the consequences that grown-ups - and parents - should think about. Kind of makes the thought of raising a kid a little scary.

Mark of Time

We measure time by events that happen as a group. We graduate college together, then we get invitation to weddings, to baby showers and, eventually, to those baby's graduations and weddings. Those are the happy (or bittersweet) ways we mark off time. There are other, sadder, ways.

The time now is that of grandparents dying. I have several friends who grandparents have died recently, and Scott's grandfather and grandmother are not doing well, either. A few weeks ago, I found out my grandmother had a bad fall and broke several bones, sending her to the hospital.

She's not in rehab and, I think, doing better. But, as we know with old people, once a major fall like this happens, it doesn't take much to topple to apple cart again. I have a sinking feeling that this could be the beginning of the end.

It's sad because she's my last grandparent. Both my grandfather died when I was two, and my other grandmother died when I was in college. But she was much older - 99 years old - so it was somewhat expected. And I wasn't as close with her as I am with this grandmother.

I guess that's how time marches on, and how it leaves its wake. Amidst the weddings and births also comes the deaths. It's strange to be at that point in our own lives where we see that exodus among ourselves and our friends.

I'm sure I'll be taking a trip to New York in the coming month to go see her and check up on Nanny. I'll keep you posted on her progress.

The Way I See It #290

This little quote was greeting me on the cup of my Starbucks latte (tall, vanilla, skim milk) this morning:

"On the battlefield of ideas, winning requires moving toward the sound of the guns."

-Newt Gingrich

I like that.

Operation Cookie Drop

It's that time of year again. Just when the slow winter depression starts to set in and the realization that the best of the holidays are over and the cold weather has just begun, a cheery girl in a green vest comes knocking on your door with the promise of hope.

A girl scout and her girl scout cookies.

The Girl Scouts have come up with an ingenious plan. For a mere $3.50 a box (when I was a girl scout, I believe they retailed for $1.75 a box), you get the joy of a limited edition cookie. Now's the time to stock your freezer with boxes of Thin Mints and Samoas (at least, that's what they were called when I was a girl scout), to be later enjoyed the other 11 months of the year.

This year, a little girl scout came knocking on my door, and I bought two boxes of Thin Mints, a box of Samoas and a box of Peanut Butter something-or-others. And one box for the troops.

Operation Cookie Drop is apparently the girl scout's way of spreading cheer and good will to our soliders overseas. Each person can buy a box of cookies for the troops. So I put myself down for a box - I figure it's the least I can do. I'm sure they would appreciate a box of girl scout cookies. I didn't get to specify a particular cookie, though, and I just hope that the troops don't find themselves with 10,000 boxes of Shortbread Cookies. Because, let's be honest, not all girl scout cookies are quite as wonderfully delicious as others.

I imagine boxes of Thin Mints being dropped from airplanes like manna from heaven, each with it's own tiny parachute to bring it safely and gently down upon Iraq and Afghanistan. Troops looking up to the skies cheering and dancing around as the minty goodness rains around them. Newspaper headings proclaiming "Girl Scouts boost Troops' Morale!" and "Osama gets a beating thanks to the Girl Scouts!"

I wonder if the troops, like me, are anxiously awaiting the arrival of the middle of February, when my four boxes of cookies will be delivered to my door, in exchange for $17.50. I wonder if brave girl scouts and their leaders will be traveling to the Middle East to set up cookie tables, selling the extra boxes of cookies to the troops who were not as fortunate to grab a parachuting box of Thin Mints. I wonder if they, like me, are debating if they should have ordered that extra box of Thin Mints and Samoas, just to fortify them through the dreary winter months.

After all, it's not every day that you can enoy a Girl Scout cookie.

Bumper Sticker Time!

On my drive home today, I saw this bumper sticker:

Don't Steal.
The government hates competition.

What? Now I'm not claiming to be a flaming liberal, but seriously?

Jigga what?

Raleigh is currently under voluntary water restrictions. Apparently, we only have 60 days of water left. After that 60th day, I'm not really sure what we're going to do, but Scott and I have been very conscious about the amount of water that we use. I've even gone so far as to save any excess water we have (the water that runs when you're waiting for the hot water to start) and using it to fill our toilets, so we don't use water when we flush! Extreme, I know. But it's actually kind of fun!

I went to Panera today to grab lunch and was greeted by this sign on their door. (My real-time thoughts are in italics).

Dear Valued Panera Guests, (that's me!)

As part of our ongoing water conservation (Awesome! Even Panera is conserving water. Love it), we have switched to disposable tableware. We apologize for the inconvenience. (Jigga what??)

So now they are substituting one evil with another? It's a tough call, I know. Save the water or save the landfills? How about we just come up with a more efficient way to clean dishes with less water?

I guess the only thing to do now is what our parents always told us: bring your lunch.

A slow and painful death?

"Reading is that fruitful miracle of a communication in the midst of solitude." -Proust

I have always loved to read. I was the kid who would read the cereal box and the milk jug as I ate breakfast in the morning. And I am the geek who can spend hours, unknowingly, in a bookstore or library. For me, it's more than just the story. It's the sentence structure and form that I love, that inspire me.

In last week's issue of The New Yorker, an article horrified me (Twilight of Books by Caleb Crain). In the article, Crain give supporting evidence that reading is on the decline, not just in the US but across the world. Among the statistics is the main finding: "Between 1982 and 2002, the percentage of Americans who read literature declined not only in every age group but in every generation - even in those moving from youth into middle age. We are reading less as we age, and we are reading less than people who were our age ten or twenty years ago".

Many sociologists believe that reading books for pleasure will one day be some arcane hobby. So what's the big deal?

There have been numerous studies showing that that readers and viewers (those who primarily watch TV in this case) actually think and view their world differently. Readers remember more, are able to note inconsistencies, are better at critically thinking. Viewers of TV programming are less likely to remember facts and, because TV is more visceral and emotional, are more likely to tune out shows that present a conflicting viewpoint (which affects critical thinking ability). Apparently the Internet falls in-line with reading, but there is fear that if more of the internet turns to the YouTube model, it will soon evolve more towards television. Crain writes:

"It can be amusing to read a magazine whose principles you despise, but it is almost unbearable to watch such a TV show. And so, in a culture of secondary orality, we may be less likely to spend time with ideas we disagree with. Self-doubt, therefore, becomes less likely. It is easy to notice inconsistencies in two written accounts placed side by side. A comparison of two video reports, on the other hand, is cumbersome. Forced to choose between conflicting stories on TV, the viewer falls back on hunches, or on what he believed before he started watching. He thinks in terms of situations and story lines rather than abstractions."

Crain also points out that the decline of reading could change the fabric our country. Readers are more likely to play sports, visit art museums, attend theatre, take photographs, volunteer and vote. "Perhaps readers venture so readily outside because what they experience in solitude gives them confidence. Perhaps reading is the prototype of independence. No matter how much one worships an author, Proust wrote, 'all he can do is give us desires.' Reading somehow gives us the boldness to act on them. Such a habit might be quite dangerous for a democracy to lose."

I agree. And I understand that there is probably a strong correlation between higher socio-economic status and readers, which give us the time - and money - to visit those museums and volunteer. But I wonder if there is also a strong correlation between reading and being successful, no matter what your socio-economic background. I think reading makes you think outside of yourself, gives you the tools to write better, and allows your mind to work in a different way than just watching TV. It would be a terrible thing for our culture to lose that.

So the question is now, what do we do about it?

Holidays on Ice

Happy New Year!

The holidays have flown by. And even though it's not officially the end of the holiday season (that doesn't happen until January 6th), it's strange how the New Year caps off the celebrations. With no more holiday parties planned (I think it's only Americans who don't make the big fuss about the Epiphany) and all the presents opened, we now hunker down for the long, drab winter ahead and pray for Spring. Of course, North Carolina hasn't seen temperatures below 45 degrees yet, so winter hasn't officially started for us.

It's strange, isn't it? That the best part of the winter season is behind us and New Years has kicked off the start of No Man's Land. There's really nothing to look forward to, save a Valentine's Day here and a President's Day there.

We hosted the whole fam for the holidays this year. And it was fun (it's strange how time, even just a week, can erase the pain and discomfort of being around family 24/7. Maybe that's why women keep having babies). To my mom's credit, I think it was strange that this was the first year that her daughter hosted the holidays. And that's hard for someone who likes to be in control. She kept "suggesting" ways to cook, how to clean my house, and when to rake my yard. And when I ignored her, she "suggested" these things to Scott, hoping that there would be a trickle-down effect. Let's just say there was a lot of drinking going on.

I think everyone had a good time, though. And no matter how painful or uncomfortable being around the family can be, there is comfort in having them around - comfort in the chaos and frustration. I think, for awhile at least, we'll be leaving the holiday hosting to our families, though. We never realized how much work - and food - it entails!

Here's hoping that everyone had just as comfortable of a holiday season and is looking forward to 2008!

Rudolph, the red-nosed Jeep?

First it was a wreath on the grill. Then it was Christmas lights on the bike rack. And now, it's just a full-fledged reindeer.

Why do people feel the urge to decorate their cars for Christmas? I drove by a Jeep the other day decked out with antlers and a red nose. And just today I saw a minivan with the same getup. Are we rolling in the dough that much that we can spend out excess cash on costumes for our car? And nothing celebrates Jesus quite like a car in a Rudolph disguise. I'm sure God's looking down on us right now, rolling his eyes.

If we've got all this excess cash, how about we spread it around a little. Maybe help out a child in need. Or give to a soup kitchen. Or support a homeless shelter.

After all, I can think of so many better ways to spend money...especially during this season that's all about giving to others.

A Sign of the Times

Flying often (very often, these days), I've noticed that some airlines are upgrading their fleet. You can tell because the seats look different, the overhead bins are smaller and the carpet is newer.

There's also another change: no more "No Smoking" signs. You know the ones...the space above each seat where two lights are illuminated - "Fasten Your Seatbelt" (also communicated with a simple seatbelt illustration) and "No Smoking" (also communicated with a cigarette with a red line through it). The "No Smoking" light has now been replaced by the "Turn off Electronic Devices" light (no cool graphic to go with this one).

I don't actually ever remember being able to smoke on a flight, but it's strange to see this icon be updated. It's what I've always seen on a plane - a bit of comfort and familiarality replaced by something new.

At the same time, it's exciting to be part of two eras - and be aware of the change. I don't think any other generation has seen - and been a part of - such rapid technological change. After all, this week marks the 25th anniversary of the Commodor 64 - I was three when it debuted, but I've watch computers change (remember DOS?), digital music descend upon us (remember Napster?), and now seen it become so embedded in our culture that it has found its way even in the small space above an airline seat. My kids will never see the "No Smoking" light on an airplane; although I'm sure the old comfort of "Turn off Electronic Devices" will one day be replaced with something newfangled.

It's pretty exciting.

Only in America...or, at least, Kentucky

I'm in Cincinnati this week, on a research project for Sears. Some of the research brought me just over the river into Florence, Kentucky. To be exact, I was at the Florence Mall.

As I drove into the city, I noticed a big, red-and-white striped water tower with "Florence Y'all" written in big block letters. I thought this was just a little southern charm. After all, Kentucky's motto is Unbridled Spirit.

Or maybe it should be Bridled Budget. One of the local Cincinnati-ites told me this trivia jewel: several years ago, the water tower actually read "Florence Mall". But then a city ordinance was passed that basically prohibited commercial names being advertised on public property. This applied to the Florence water tower. So to save a little time - and paint - they simply changed the "M" to a "Y" and added an apostrophe. Hence, "Florence Mall" became "Florence Y'all".

Pretty darn clever. And just a little darn ghetto.

So that's your trivia for the night. Enjoy!

The Windy City

I just got home from a week in Chicago (which capped off the end of our US ethnography research - yay!). Every time I go to Chicago, I realize how much I really like the city. It has such a different vibe than New York. As you walk down the street, you see people walking together, talking together. Colleagues and friends are huddled together, scurrying off to lunch. Other groups are standing outside, giving hugs and kisses goodbye or hello.

New York is so different - no groups of people, no hugs and kisses. Just people alone, scurrying off to lunch by themselves. No one looks at you. There's really no relationships, at least in the street, like there are in Chicago.

What gives a city it's own vibe? How is it that each city has it's own trademark, it's own personality? How does that get started, and how does it perpectuate itself? Is it a cycle, where once the vibe is established, it attracts people who enjoy and seek out that environment? But there's got to be more to it than that, because people move to cities for jobs and families, external reasons besides being attracted to a lifestyle.

It reminds me of a house smell, in a way. Ever notice how different houses have different smells? And even when you move into a new house, eventually, it'll take on your smell. You can identify people by that smell. How does that smell get started and what contributes to it? And despite bringing more stuff into the house, or having more people in a house, the same smell lingers.

I like Chicago. It's vibe, it's personality, and yes, it's smell.