Five, four, three, two...

Well Folks, here we are. December 31st, aka my last day of Not Newness.

I have many musings to share, most of it completely self-indulgent bullshit. Barring an incapacitating hangover, I'll post all tomorrow in my last official Quicken Earth report. Thanks for sticking with me these past 11 months. Your moral support has been downright priceless.

Love and Happiness for the New Year,
Natalie

P.S. In case you were wondering, I didn't buy the jeans. In fact, I didn't even try them on. It seems $87 is the price of my integrity.

Now That's What I'm Talking About.

From the San Francisco Chronicle:
"Airline flight-tests biofuel in a jet's engine"

Thank you, Air New Zealand. You Kiwis are such givers. First it was Ugg Boots in seventh grade, then Flight of the Conchords, and now you're trying to solve the carbon complications of my travel addiction. You care, you really care.

Yeah, okay, the Ugg Boots are Australian. But $10 says the sheep came from NZ.

Accio Teapot!

You guys will not BELIEVE what I conjured at the local Salvation Army yesterday.



Remind you of anybody? Sweet, familial and only slightly tea-stained for the low low bargain price of $7.50! I'm like a vintage shopping Hermione Granger over here!

Speaking of magic, Martha once told me you can use baking soda, water and a toothbrush to clean tea stains on ceramics. The teapot and I are here to tell you IT TOTALLY WORKS. Excellent eco-friendly solution. While I was at it, I took the advice of Crystal at Elle-Meme and tried the soda on my tarnished silver jewelry. SPARKLING.

Deck the Halls with Vital Wheat Gluten

I hope the eight of you enjoyed festive holidays with your loved ones. We had a nice enough time in San Diego, unless you count the fact that my mom's new puppy launched a full frontal attack on me including strategically placed turd piles, vomit blobs on seating arrangements, lack of bladder control in my lap, and possibly even the triggering of my immune system with her dander. Either that or I got a nasty virus. Regardless, it succeeded in sending me to bed mere minutes before our Feliz Navidad Surf and Turf Fiesta was served. Which is to say, I missed Christmas Dinner.

But I still managed to have a little fun. Prior to the onslaught of my disease, my loving and adventurous family agreed to become guinea pigs for an all vegetarian Christmas Eve dinner. This time I stayed far, far away from Vegetarian Times, instead taking the advice of my friend Rema's friend Jen who swears by The Post Punk Kitchen blog. I actually already own Vegan with a Vengeance and have long been a fan of Isa Chandra Moskowitz's Faustess Cupcakes, but I had mostly shied away from her savory dishes. That is, until the Night Before Christmas.

The menu:
Chickpea Cutlet Parmesan
and
Mama HCB's Butternut Squash Ravioli with Sage Butter Sauce.

(No, they don't really go together, but I knew the ravioli were safe while the chickpea cutlets were a big gamble. And if you're wondering how Parmesan is vegan, it's not. The addition of cheese and homemade tomato sauce was mine.)

At first, not even Grandma was stirring...



But once everybody dug in, they couldn't stop raving about the chickpea cutlets. My parents even had seconds! A new addition the Vegetarian Recipetoire. Owww!!

Oh, and as far as the giving was concerned, everybody LOVED not doing it. We kept saying how relaxed we all were - no trash, no clutter, and no unwanted crap to store guiltily or shunt to the GoodWill. We're doing it again next year. All told, a Christmas to remember - and replicate.


Mama HCB's Butternut Squash Ravioli with Sage Butter Sauce

1 small butternut squash
Olive oil
1/3 cup freshly grated Parmesan Cheese
1 tbsp rosemary leaves, finely chopped
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Pinch of ground nutmeg
1 egg white
1 double package wonton wrappers
1/2 cup butter
36 fresh sage leaves

1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

2. Cut the squash in half, remove the seeds and then cut into wedges/disks, leaving the skin on. Place the squash in a lightly oiled roasting pan. Roast for 1 to 1 1/4 hours, or until squash is soft. Remove from the oven and leave the squash to cool.

3. Discard the skin. Pass the squash through a food mill or puree in a food processor. You need 1 cup of pureed squash.

4. Add the cheese and rosemary to the squash and season with the salt, pepper and nutmeg.

5. Whisk the egg white with 1 tsp of water. Place one wonton wrapper on the counter and top with approx 2 tsp of the squash mixture. Brush the edges of the wonton wrapper with egg white, then top with a second wrapper. Press to seal well. If desired, trim edges with a fluted pastry wheel (not even I do this). Repeat with the remaining wrappers. Place the ravioli in a single layer on towel-lined baking sheets, and cover with another towel.

6. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil and drop in a small batch of ravioli. Cook until the ravioli float and become transparent, about 3 minutes. Drain well. Repeat.

7. Meanwhile, saute butter and sage leaves in large pan over medium-high heat. As each batch of ravioli is cooked and drained, add them to the pan. Flip each ravioli to coat with butter. Serve on warmed plates with a few sage leaves.

Early Christmas Present

Okay Chipotle, this is progress. But I still think we need to talk about my tupperware.

NOW you tell me??

HCB just heard this story on NPR and called me immediately.

Apparently, the Union of Concerned Scientists has finally done a study on the greenest modes of transportation in America. Here are their results, based on a family of four traveling 1,000 miles:

WORST: flying first class
First class seats take up a lot more room, which makes the butts perched on them responsible for more of the plane's total carbon expenditure.

ONLY SLIGHTLY BETTER: a DIESEL TRAIN(!!!)
With the exception of the all-electric Northeast Corridor, taking an Amtrak train emits almost as much carbon as the same family driving a 12 mpg road-hogging SUV.

NEXT BEST: flying economy
But make sure you fly direct. If you must connect or layover, do it as the crow flies.

A LITTLE IMPROVED: driving an 18 mpg SUV
At this point, I am mind-boggled...

BETTER: road trip your peeps in a high-efficiency vehicle
The more peeps the better, since the carbon is shared.

BEST: the freakin' BUS
Apparently, taking the bus cross-country emits 15% less carbon than a solo-driven 23 mpg car.

Erm, Tom: next year we go Greyhound? It seems we have some carbon emissions to amortize.

I'm on hold.

In the last two weeks, I've made very friendly, non-threatening sustainability-related inquiries with Diestel Family Turkey Ranch, Prps Goods, and Alternative Apparel (more on that one later).

No one has responded yet. I realize it's the holidays, but if I don't hear back before the New Year, I'll be forced to go aggro on them. You just don't mess with former Nordstrom employees, if you know what's good for you. We don't take lackadaisical service lying down.

Final Gift Tally

HCB recognized my Christmas despondency and sprang into action, taking over all the buying of retail gifts for his nieces and nephews. I believe we ended up giving books, craft kits, and educational-type things. It's New Stuff, but at least it's not princess-plastic-pesky stuff.

For HCB's parents, we bought some plates and bowls to replace broken pieces from their china pattern. Very practical.

As for my lady friends, you don't know this yet, but you're getting bees. Because the world needs more of them and more of you.

We are now in Southern California with my family, and everyone is SO MUCH MORE RELAXED. My mom especially is loving it. Not buying presents turns out to be the best gift we've ever given each other. I think tonight we're going to make soup and go to a movie. Ahhh.

All told, I have avoided New Gifting in all possible instances, which comes with the immense side benefit of never once entering a crowded mall, trolling for parking on Hayes Street, running up my credit card, swearing at the price of expedited shipping on Amazon, or purchasing a single striped Gap scarf.

I gotta say, eschewing the traditional consumerist Christmas is the gift that truly keeps on giving.

One down...

The angels of Pilates on Page heard my Sigg bottle prayers just in time for Christmas. Man do I love gifts that are actually useful.

It looks so shiny and sleek juxtaposed with Carrie. But the old girl is hanging in there, bless her heart.

Nooooo!!! YESSSSSSS!!! Nooooo!!! Yes?

On my way to Pilates last week, I notice a storefront on Gough Street spray-painted with the logos for ab fits and Gimme Shoes, along with an emphatically fonted WAREHOUSE SALE 90% OFF! I sigh wantonly and shuffle past.

During Pilates this week, my trainer Joanna busts out a raglan/blouson/hot action L.A.M.B. sweatshirt. I say "Cool sweatshirt!" She says, "Thanks! I got it at this warehouse sale around the corner for $5." A conversation ensues during which I become convinced that ab fits has suffered so much from my year of not patronizing them that they have been forced out of business. So now I'm not only missing the WAREHOUSE SALE 90% OFF!, but I also have to comprehend a 2009 in which my favorite ever boutique is no longer.

Consumed with fear, I drive down Grant Street while in North Beach the next day. The sign is down and there's nothing in the window. I begin to hyperventilate.

Two days ago, I take to the web for confirmation. There is talk of the WAREHOUSE SALE 90% OFF!, but no tearful goodbyes.

I decide to call them. A cheerful denim geek answers the phone. I tell him of my fears. He inquires as to whether I have been hiding under a rock for several months. Just about. Turns out the ab fits downtown closed 8 months ago along with its Gimme Shoes counterpart, hence the WAREHOUSE SALE 90% OFF! The original Grant Street location is still very much open. I sigh with relief and tell him I will likely see him in January, as I am in need of a pair of boyfriend jeans. (Yes yes, I said I wasn't Jonesing for them but I am. Sue me.) He says they have the original Katie Holmes pair, Prps, in the store right now and in fact, IT'S GOING TO BE ON SECRET INSIDER 30% OFF SALE ALL WEEKEND. This will bring the price down from a lofty $297 to $210. In January, it goes back up to $297.



I begin to hyperventilate again. I tell him about the Not New situation. I ask about organic cotton and fair trade. He answers knowledgeably (one of the reasons I love these people). I tell him I have to think about it.

And then I think of you, dear readers. And begin plotting.

Seems to me $87 is a pretty good reason to buy early, provided these really are EXACTLY the jeans I want. But before I even look them in the eyelet, I want to know everything about their manufacturing. From my internet research, Prps uses organic cotton sourced from Zimbabwe, then the denim is made and washed in Japan where working conditions are excellent. It's definitely an artisan jean. But I want to know more about this Southern Africa situation. I've sent Prps an email. I'll let you know what they say. And of course, feel free to say what you think as well.

Also on the 2009 'To Buy' list:

I would cinch up my classic trench and follow this man to Guyana if he asked me to.

Seriously though, it's surprising to me that I own so few of these items. And the ones I do own don't fit well at all, on account of me having the Longest Torso in America. Tim also says we should ALL be getting EVERYTHING tailored. Yes Sir. No more buying ill-fitting, poorly made, trendy fashion. Because that's not sustainable at all.

The Company I Keep

True to my petrochemical-banishing campaign, about six months ago I started using this super yummy 70% organic coconut tangerine body lotion I found at Rainbow Grocery.



Now when I say yummy, I mean it on many levels. The texture is perfect: lush but not too heavy, not at all greasy, and easily absorbed. The price is right: at $10.50 for 16 fl oz, it's almost on par with the tar they sell at Walgreen's. But best of all, it smells like HEAVEN. I've gotten more compliments for being good-smelling in the last six months than I have in the entire three decades prior.

The most recent person to pick up my scent was Aunt Diane, a connoisseur of all things coconut. The minute I came out of the shower, she said "I've gotta find some of that lotion. I haven't smelled one that good since the seventies."

And true to her word, she went right home and Googled it. This is the email I received the next day:

Is it made by VTAE? I found it on a “wicca, pagan, gothic, metaphysical, witchcraft superstore” called Capricorns Lair. Needless to say, I shall revisit the website regardless.

Sigh. And I feel so NORMAL up here in NorCal. (No offense to all you pagan, gothic, metaphysical witches out there.)

I definitely could not have said it better.

A lot of people have started asking what I plan to do with my new-found consumer freedom come January. I cannot lie: the "To Buy" list grows daily. But what's interesting to me is that the things at the top - MacBook, iPhone, office chair, Sigg bottle - are all functional rather than fashionable. Yes yes okay, Apple items are sexy, but my point is that the stuff I want most is the stuff that will make my life work better. The old me would be jonesing for boyfriend jeans and cashmere.

Today I happened upon a blog entry by eccentric green genius and cyberpunk chairman Bruce Sterling. The Viridian Design Movement, his vision for a successful green future, has been going since 2000, and just last month, he decided to put it to rest. In his farewell note, he describes how to become "sustainable", and it is a perfect and eloquent encapsulation of what I've learned this year and how I plan to consume from now on. I'm going to add a very, very long excerpt here - trust me, it's worth reading. In fact, I suggest you go and read the whole damn thing. (Bold emphases are mine.)

It pains me to see certain people still trying to live in hairshirt-green fashion – purportedly mindful, and thrifty and modest...hairshirt-green simply changes the polarity of the dominant culture, without truly challenging it in any effective way. It doesn't do or say anything conceptually novel – nor is it practical, or a working path to a better life.

My personal relations to goods and services – especially goods – have been revolutionized since 1999. Let me try your patience by describing this change in some detail, because it really is a different mode of being in the world...What is "sustainability?" Sustainable practices navigate successfully through time and space, while others crack up and vanish. So basically, the sustainable is about time – time and space. You need to re-think your relationship to material possessions in terms of things that occupy your time. The things that are physically closest to you. Time and space.

In earlier, less technically advanced eras, this approach would have been far-fetched. Material goods were inherently difficult to produce, find, and ship. They were rare and precious. They were closely associated with social prestige. Without important material signifiers such as wedding china, family silver, portraits, a coach-house, a trousseau and so forth, you were advertising your lack of substance to your neighbors. If you failed to surround yourself with a thick material barrier, you were inviting social abuse and possible police suspicion. So it made pragmatic sense to cling to heirlooms, renew all major purchases promptly, and visibly keep up with the Joneses.

That era is dying. It's not only dying, but the assumptions behind that form of material culture are very dangerous. These objects can no longer protect you from want, from humiliation – in fact they are causes of humiliation, as anyone with a McMansion crammed with Chinese-made goods and an unsellable SUV has now learned at great cost.

Furthermore, many of these objects can damage you personally. The hours you waste stumbling over your piled debris, picking, washing, storing, re-storing, those are hours and spaces that you will never get back in a mortal lifetime. Basically, you have to curate these goods: heat them, cool them, protect them from humidity and vermin. Every moment you devote to them is lost to your children, your friends, your society, yourself.

It's not bad to own fine things that you like. What you need are things that you GENUINELY like. Things that you cherish, that enhance your existence in the world. The rest is dross.

Do not "economize." Please. That is not the point. The economy is clearly insane. Even its champions are terrified by it now. It's melting the North Pole. So "economization" is not your friend. Cheapness can be value-less. Voluntary simplicity is, furthermore, boring. Less can become too much work.

The items that you use incessantly, the items you employ every day, the normal, boring goods that don't seem luxurious or romantic: these are the critical ones. They are truly central. The everyday object is the monarch of all objects. It's in your time most, it's in your space most. It is "where it is at," and it is "what is going on."

It takes a while to get this through your head, because it's the opposite of the legendry of shopping. However: the things that you use every day should be the best-designed things you can get. For instance, you cannot possibly spend too much money on a bed. You're spending a third of your lifetime in a bed. Your bed might be sagging, ugly, groaning and infested with dust mites, because you are used to that situation and cannot see it. That calamity might escape your conscious notice. See it. Replace it.

Sell – even give away– anything you never use. Fancy ball gowns, tuxedos, beautiful shoes wrapped in bubblepak that you never wear, useless Christmas gifts from well-meaning relatives, junk that you inherited. Sell that stuff. Take the money, get a real bed. Get radically improved everyday things.

The same goes for a working chair. Notice it. Take action. Bad chairs can seriously injure you from repetitive stresses. Get a decent ergonomic chair. Someone may accuse you of "indulging yourself" because you possess a chair that functions properly. This guy is a reactionary. He is useless to futurity. Listen carefully to whatever else he says, and do the opposite. You will benefit greatly.

Expensive clothing is generally designed to make you look like an aristocrat who can afford couture. Unless you are a celebrity on professional display, forget this consumer theatricality. You should buy relatively-expensive clothing that is ergonomic, high-performance and sturdy.

Anything placed next to your skin for long periods is of high priority. Shoes are notorious sources of pain and stress and subjected to great mechanical wear. You really need to work on selecting these – yes, on "shopping for shoes." You should spend more time on shoes than you do on cars, unless you're in a car during pretty much every waking moment. In which case, God help you.

I strongly recommend that you carry a multitool. There are dozens of species of these remarkable devices now, and for good reason. Do not show them off in a beltpack, because this marks you as a poorly-socialized geek. Keep your multitool hidden in the same discreet way that you would any other set of keys.

That's because a multitool IS a set of keys. It's a set of possible creative interventions in your immediate material environment. That is why you want a multitool. They are empowering.

A multitool changes your perceptions of the world. Since you lack your previous untooled learned-helplessness, you will slowly find yourself becoming more capable and more observant. If you have pocket-scissors, you will notice loose threads; if you have a small knife you will notice bad packaging; if you have a file you will notice flashing, metallic burrs, and bad joinery. If you have tweezers you can help injured children, while if you have a pen, you will take notes. Tools in your space, saving your time. A multitool is a design education.

As a further important development, you will become known to your friends and colleagues as someone who is capable, useful and resourceful, rather than someone who is helpless, frustrated and visibly lacking in options. You should aspire to this better condition.

Do not lug around an enormous toolchest or a full set of post-earthquake gear unless you are Stewart Brand. Furthermore, unless you are a professional emergency worker, you can abstain from post-apocalyptic "bug-out bags" and omnicompetent heaps of survivalist rations. Do not stock the fort with tiresome, life-consuming, freeze-dried everything, unless you can clearly sense the visible approach of some massive, non-theoretical civil disorder. The clearest way to know that one of these is coming is that the rich people have left your area. If that's the case, then, sure, go befriend the police and prepare to knuckle down.

Now to confront the possessions you already have. This will require serious design work, and this will be painful. It is a good idea to get a friend or several friends to help you.

You will need to divide your current possessions into four major categories.

1. Beautiful things.
2. Emotionally important things.
3. Tools, devices, and appliances that efficiently perform a useful function.
4. Everything else.

"Everything else" will be by far the largest category. Anything you have not touched, or seen, or thought about in a year – this very likely belongs in "everything else."

You should document these things. Take their pictures, their identifying makers' marks, barcodes, whatever, so that you can get them off eBay or Amazon if, for some weird reason, you ever need them again. Store those digital pictures somewhere safe – along with all your other increasingly valuable, life-central digital data. Back them up both onsite and offsite.

Then remove them from your time and space. "Everything else" should not be in your immediate environment, sucking up your energy and reducing your opportunities. It should become a fond memory, or become reduced to data.

It may belong to you, but it does not belong with you. You weren't born with it. You won't be buried with it. It needs to be out of the space-time vicinity. You are not its archivist or quartermaster. Stop serving that unpaid role.

Beautiful things are important. If they're truly beautiful, they should be so beautiful that you are showing them to people. They should be on display: you should be sharing their beauty with others. Your pride in these things should enhance your life, your sense of taste and perhaps your social standing.

They're not really that beautiful? Then they're not really beautiful. Take a picture of them, tag them, remove them elsewhere.

Emotionally important things. All of us have sentimental keepsakes that we can't bear to part with. We also have many other objects which simply provoke a panicky sense of potential loss – they don't help us to establish who we are, or to become the person we want to be. They subject us to emotional blackmail.

Is this keepsake so very important that you would want to share its story with your friends, your children, your grandchildren? Or are you just using this clutter as emotional insulation, so as to protect yourself from knowing yourself better?

Think about that. Take a picture. You might want to write the story down. Then – yes – away with it.

You are not "losing things" by these acts of material hygiene. You are gaining time, health, light and space. Also, the basic quality of your daily life will certainly soar. Because the benefits of good design will accrue to you where they matter – in the everyday.

Not in Oz or in some museum vitrine. In the every day. For sustainability, it is every day that matters. Not green Manhattan Projects, green moon shots, green New Years' resolutions, or wild scifi speculations. Those are for dabblers and amateurs. The sustainable is about the every day.

Now for category three, tools and appliances. They're not beautiful and you are not emotionally attached to them. So they should be held to keen technical standards.

Is your home a museum? Do you have curatorial skills? If not, then entropy is attacking everything in there. Stuff breaks, ages, rusts, wears out, decays. Entropy is an inherent property of time and space. Understand this fact. Expect this. The laws of physics are all right, they should not provoke anguished spasms of denial.

You will be told that you should "make do" with broken or semi-broken tools, devices and appliances. Unless you are in prison or genuinely crushed by poverty, do not do this. This advice is wicked.

This material culture of today is not sustainable. Most of the things you own are almost certainly made to 20th century standards, which are very bad. If we stick with the malignant possessions we already have, through some hairshirt notion of thrift, then we are going to be baling seawater. This will not do.

You should be planning, expecting, desiring to live among material surroundings created, manufactured, distributed, through radically different methods from today's. It is your moral duty to aid this transformative process. This means you should encourage the best industrial design.

Get excellent tools and appliances. Not a hundred bad, cheap, easy ones. Get the genuinely good ones. Work at it. Pay some attention here, do not neglect the issue by imagining yourself to be serenely "non-materialistic." There is nothing more "materialistic" than doing the same household job five times because your tools suck. Do not allow yourself to be trapped in time-sucking black holes of mechanical dysfunction. That is not civilized...

So. This approach seems to be working for me. More or less. I'm not urging you to do any of this right away. Do not jump up from the screen right now and go reform your entire material circumstances. That resolve will not last. Because it's not sustainable.

Instead, I am urging you to think hard about it. Tuck it into the back of your mind. Contemplate it. The day is going to come, it will come, when you suddenly find your comfortable habits disrupted.

That could be a new job, a transfer to a new city, a marriage, the birth or departure of a child. It could be a death in the family: we are mortal, they happen. Moments like these are part of the human condition. Suddenly you will find yourself facing a yawning door and a whole bunch of empty boxes. That is the moment in which you should launch this sudden, much-considered coup. Seize that moment on the barricades, liberate yourself, and establish a new and sustainable constitution.

But – you may well ask – what if I backslide into the ancien regime? Well, there is a form of hygiene workable here as well. Every time you move some new object into your time and space – buy it, receive it as a gift, inherit it, whatever – remove some equivalent object.

That discipline is not as hard as it sounds. As the design of your immediate surroundings improves, it'll become obvious to you that more and more of these time-sucking barnacles are just not up to your standards. They're ugly, or they're broken, or they're obsolete, or they are visible emblems of nasty, uncivilized material processes.

Their blissful absence from your life makes new time and space for something better for you – and for the changed world you want to live to see.

Amen.

Dear Patrons,

You are not imagining things. Posts dated from some time over the last three weeks have been nonchalantly showing up here all day with absolutely no apologies for their tardy behavior. This is due to an administrator's error - I forgot to bring my camera with me when I went south for Thanksgiving, and thus have been storing up posts until I had the requisite visuals with which to delight you. I'm sure backdating blog posts goes against some internet code of ethics, but as you well know by now, I live by my own rules. And my rules favor chronological order.

I do apologize to all eight of you for the confusion. I am caught up now.

Best Regards,
The Management

Christmas Update

Mostly I am pretending it's not happening.

We did avoid consumer goods for a couple of the HCB nieces with a family zoo membership. Otherwise we're at a loss with the kiddos.

And we have had to ditch our Mexican Family Vacation due to murderous infighting between rival drug cartels. Instead, I've suggested that we each choose one local group activity to share over the holidays. I am currently deciding between a restorative yoga class and dinner at one of San Diego's only farm-to-table restaurants while hoping somebody else picks Christmas cookie baking or a waffle blow-out on Christmas morning. HCB is contemplating putting the whole family on ice skates. Man, I cannot wait to see that.

Happy Birthday, Hot Canadian!

My dearest HCB turned another year older today. At first I was worried about navigating the gifting, but then I discovered that the Sharks are at home this week. Nothing says loving like two NHL games in five days.



Along with a little birthday wish on the jumbo-tron...

Dear Michael,

I just want to start by saying that I'm your biggest fan. I read all your stuff. I joined the Michael Pollen For Secretary of Agriculture group on Facebook. I've considered driving over to Berkeley to stalk meet you. I mean, you complete me. Are we soul mates? My heart says yes, but my lady garden says no.



I did what you suggested, Michael: I'm (sort of) growing my own food. Being that Ugly Betty is already short on living space, I thought I'd start with the wee bitty herb growing kits I received for Christmas three years ago. And sure, at first glance, those little sprouts look promising. But what if I tell you I've been growing them for OVER A MONTH? And that Fennel and Sage here are the most promising of my crops, as Basil is only limping along while Chives, Oregano, Lavender and Marjoram have downright refused my advances?





At this rate, I won't be able to add flavor to my dishes until sometime in the Spring. Is this the price I have to pay for our love? Or am I doing something wrong?

Please advise.

Fondly,
pollenfan76

Quicken Earth November: Finish Line In Sight

Here it is, the eve of my final month of avoiding Newness. Back in January when I told people about this experiment, they deemed me a nutbar and silently (or not so silently) wrote me off. I have to admit that I too had my doubts; after all, there are sales associates all over town who know me by first name. But now that I've made it 11 months without managing to look like a homeless person or Ed Begley Jr, the response is totally different. People are impressed. And I guess I'm proud. By no means have I been the vision of restraint throughout this process, but I have achieved my stated goal: to become more conscious of my consumption. More on that later.

OOPS!
If I had started buying Christmas presents for far-flung HCB nieces and nephews like I was supposed to, I'd have something to talk about here. Instead I'm just a bad aunt.

NECESSITIES

Same old, same old. Plus a hard-won turkey.

CREATIVE CONSUMPTION (i.e. USED ARTICLES)
Aforementioned roasting pan, batter bowl, and red shoes, plus mod teal necklace ($6)


and ethnic ceramic candlesticks that even HCB admires (99 cents each).


I'm telling you people: THE DESERT. Just drive down Highway 111 from Washington Street to downtown Palm Springs. It's like shooting fish in a barrel.

Oh! And a 1964 paperback issue of Ian Fleming's Diamonds are Forever (49 cents). It was a Bond Thanksgiving.

UP FOR DISCUSSION
This one is painful to admit. I was halfway to Renaissance Salon for my hair dye experiment when I realized I had left my camera at home. Now that you've seen how fierce Lucas is, I'm sure you can understand that being late for an appointment is not an option. And neither was not having a camera. SO I BOUGHT A KODAK FUNSAVER. TO DOCUMENT AN ECO EXPERIMENT. YES I SEE THE IRONY.

The good news is that I did some research, and it turns out that disposable cameras are the most recycled consumer product on the planet. With a recovery rate of 75%, they're even ahead of aluminum cans. Who knew? I then made sure that Walgreen's, the place where I had the camera processed, participated in the recycling program. They do. So I feel a little better. I'm not by any means advocating the use of these things - for God's sake, remember your damn digital camera. But whereas I originally planned to put this purchase in the Oops! column, I've moved it down here to the discussion section so that all you haters can tell me what you really think.

ABSTENTIONS
As I approach the finish line, all I can think about is a MacBook, an iPhone, and a good office chair. I've probably wasted a good month of my life this year devising work-arounds for my technology deficiencies. And my back is killing me.