This is Going to be a Gross One…

I apologise in advance but this has been on my mind lately and I just had to share.

I like the environment.  I really do.  I believe in walking and biking, using energy-saving light bulbs, and eschewing plastic bags. Whenever someone comes up with a new way to save the environment, my response is “Great! Let’s do it.”  

But.

But.

Apparently, there are limits to how much environmentalism I can stomach.  I’m talking, of course, about the Keeper. *I do not recommend clicking on this link if you’ve eaten in the last 24 hours.  Or if you ever want to feel hungry again.

The Keeper.  An environmentally-friendly tampon-alternative.  Really?  

The Keeper first appeared on my radar a few years ago when a friend-of-a-friend added the Keeper to their facebook interests.  Not knowing what it was, said friend told me to google image search it.  I did and we had a good chuckle about this thing:

The whole thing became much funnier when said friend explained that friend-of-friend had added it to their interests because a mutual acquaintance of all of us was “going through an environmental phase” and was using the Keeper.  Since I was not in the mood to vomit, I pretty much forgot about the whole incident (although I will say that I had a hard time looking at that acquaintance with a straight face the next time I saw her).

So a few years later, alternative menstrual products came up in casual conversation.  Mockingly, of course.  And then I got curious about the ol’ Keeper cause I remembered it had given me a good laugh.  So I google searched it again and my eyes were opened the vast world of period products.  And oh how I wish they were still closed.  

For those who are interested, you can choose between the Keeper, the MoonCup (think about that name), or the DivaCup.  You can find reusable pads or (my favourite) the Lunapanties, an “all-in-one deluxe period panty.”  Which is awesome because I’m so frustrated with my all-in-one BASIC period panty (?).  Also available is the ultra low-tech birth control method called Cycle Beads.  For $15.95, you’ll receive:

a string of colored beads that represent each day of a woman’s menstrual cycle. They are a simple tool that clearly shows where you are in your cycle. They tell you whether or not you are likely to get pregnant that day. Cycle Beads are based on the Standard Days Method of family planning. Studies have shown that this method is more than 95% effective when used correctly. Cycle Beads are for women who want a natural, effective, inexpensive approach to family planning with no side effects, and have regular menstrual cycles between 26 and 32 days long. Cycle Beads come with complete, easy instructions.

Did you see that? 95% effective!  Why use anything else?

Clearly all this “alternative” mumbojumbo is lost on me.  Rather than being swayed by this image,

I’m horrified about the idea of a 10 year old period cup.  Oh Holy Mother of God, please help us.  

I’m also ridiculously disturbed by the application instructions.

Umm, no comment.

So basically, when it comes down to it, I’m not so environmentally-friendly.  If being green means sticking latex cups in your cooch, I say PAVE THE RAINFOREST, BABY.

Some Things I Don’t Understand

1.  The Running Skirt

This is becoming increasingly popular and more and more seem to be popping up at each road race I do.  Why?  From my perspective, it’s wasteful and impractical.  There are shorts underneath so the extra flap is superfluous.  I’ve never found myself wanting running attire that limits my movement.  Maybe I’m weird in that respect.  And while I’m all for being feminine, I think I can deal with wearing pants/shorts for the hour or so I’m running.

2. Geometry 

Math is, admittedly, not my strongest subject.  I’m a world-class bullshitter with a talent for words (are you getting why I was a history major now?).  That being said, I like math.  Algebra and statistics make sense to me.  They can also be kinda relaxing.  Not so with geometry.  I just don’t get it.  I kinda hate it.  And I’ve yet to find a real-world application for it.  I’m sure they exist but I haven’t dusted of my protractor or compass since sophomore year of high school.

 

3.  Sausage

Sausage has the distinction of being the one item on this list that I don’t WANT to understand.  I don’t know what it is.  I don’t want to devote anytime to thinking about it.  I don’t get how sausage can exist in thousands of forms from many different animals, but I’m okay with that.  How sausage can be “home-made” is a mystery to me.  A mystery to be left unsolved.    I choose not to think about sausage and I definitely choose not to eat sausage.  

So go on, tell me what you don’t understand.  

Just Wondering…

I had an engagement today in the Woo, so I zipped a car.  Renting a little vehicle for a few hours has become pretty common for me, but unlike my other recent road trips, I didn’t have anyone in the car to chat with and didn’t think to grab some cds.  I’m not a huge music person, mainly listening to hipster-lite hits on my iPod but this lucky bitch got to spend some quality time with the radio while driving west.  Since my Nissan Versa’s radio console was hard to navigate and I was too busy rushing to make it to the dentist on time to fiddle with the presets (I’m not so good with multitasking when it comes to driving), I mainly flipped between soft rock, classic rock, and Boston’s #1 Hit Music Station! Some things I discovered were that the radio pretty much blows (but I knew that anyway) and that Miley Cyrus is apparently a huge star.  I don’t get it.

But here’s the point of this post.  I’d like to award the title of Worst Artist Ever to Marc Anthony.  I’m not sure if he’s still around or doing anything other than fathering J-Lo babies but his music is absolute shit! His song “You Sang to Me” came on the radio and I seriously contemplated driving off the road straight for a tree in order to end the pain.

Runner-up awards go to Lee Anne Womack for her craptastic “I Hope You Dance” and A-Ha’s “Take on Me.”

So  was just wondering…what gets your vote for lamest song?

My Demand List

I want a lot of things: world peace, universal healthcare, a job, good credit, ripped abs…but hey, we’re living in a material world and I’m a (sometimes) material girl.  So I thought I’d share some of my current yearnings.

 

1.  Religious Footwear

Lately I’ve been craving sandals.  I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for but the best way I can describe my dream shoes as resembling sandals Jesus would wear.  These Gap finds aren’t perfect, but at $14.99, they’ll hold me over until I find a holier pair.

2. A Pearl of Great Price

OMG I so want a cute, blue BlackBerry Pearl.  Unlike some people I know, I have no NEED for one but by golly would this little baby make my life more colourful.  It’s small enough to not look too ostentatious, but powerful enough to enable my texting-addiction and internet-junkieism.  

3. A Whip

I’m not really a car person.  I’m a walk/bike/public transport kind of gal.  But some wheels would be nice, making trips to the beach feasible and allowing me to occasionally grocery shop.  And at 46 mpg, the hot  little piece of ass known as the Prius is the ultimate eco-friendly status-symbol.  

4.  Pizza, Please-a?

I used to eat pizza maybe once a year.  I don’t know what’s happened to me, but now if I go a day without eating some greasy, gooey, cheesy pizza, I go through withdrawal.  In addition to unlimited access to Uno’s Spinnacoli Pizza, I’d like someone to come up with a new recipe for this gem of a pizza that cuts out some of the 1800 calories of the individual-sized one.

 

What is the World Coming to?

I was just at McDonald’s.  No, I wasn’t eating there.  I wanted a fountain Coke, ok?  But that’s not the point.

THEY WERE OUT OF HAMBURGERS.  

McDonald’s.  150 Zillion Served.  No Hamburgers.  What?

I BROKE my TOE

As if to confirm my proclamation in my last post that I’m the clumsiest person alive, I had a pretty uncoordinated day yesterday.  There are no shreds of doubt remaining that I should not be a nurse after I poured the entire contents of a pill bottle on my floor, made a ruckus while trying to inconspicuously sneak out of chemistry after the test, spilled a crapload of sharp merchandise sensors at work, and broke my toe while walking around my bedroom.

Well, we’ll call it an unofficially broken toe.  My mom wisely convinced me not to go to the doctor, as that would be a $600 trip to hear “congratulations, you’re toe is broken! stay off it for a few days.” Although, the powerful pain meds would have been nice… Anyway, with the help of emedicine, my human biology book, and some common sense, we’ve come up with a diagnosis of a fractured distal metatarsal.  In other words, I broke my baby toe.

I’ve done this before (twice in one summer, in fact!) and I’d like to say it’s just a little painful and I’m truckin’ on but the reality is that I’m being kinda a baby.  In my defense, my poor toesie really hurts and doesn’t get much rest when I have to walk on it.  My stomach was desperate for sustenance but my toe did not appreciate the whole three freaking blocks I had to walk to get a Spike’s veggie dog.  It looks like running is out for the near future and my day off today will be spent confined to my apartment.

Don’t feel too bad for me, though.  I’ve devised an at-home remedy that includes buddy tape, laying in bed, eating, and forcing friends to come visit and drink in bed with me.  I need to take what time I can to milk my little injury because I don’t think that my job will buy that a toe is preventing my selling panties.  

Enjoy your sunday y’all and remember to pay a visit to your favourite bed-bound invalid.