It's not easy to just dash off a blog post. There's a real, well defined process to what it takes to go from "idea scribbled on a cocktail napkin" to published. Everybody has a different system. Here's mine.
Yesterday, a couple of neighborhood facts walked up to me and sucker punched me right in the feels. My
"feels" are buried under so much scar tissue and thickened skin, I
didn't expect it to hurt. Boy, I was wrong. The perp of this heinous
act of wanton emotional endangerment and assault with a dangerous idea
was Dove. You know, the people that make the soap and beauty products.
September of 2004, they've been running what they call The Campaign For
Real Beauty. At the time, only 2% of women described themselves as
beautiful, and Dove was afraid that what we stressed as such was
becoming "limiting and unattainable". They've made a real effort to
change the idea of what beauty is. I want very badly to think they're
succeeding. Their most recent campaign was enough to convince me that
it seems to only be working on a superficial level. It would seem that
the idea of beauty is being more widely accepted in other people.
But, when it comes to embracing our own beauty, we still doubt
ourselves. Apparently, Dove wanted to do something about that too.
That's why they came up with their commercial entitled "Sketches". It was a real moment to wake up and smell the coffee. And the coffee smelled like beauty.
been looking at getting a blender for a while, and I finally got the spare change
to get one last month. I’d been eyeballing a heavy duty one, but
settled on getting a medium duty blender/food processor combo and a
separate juicer for about $20 less than the cost of the high end
long after I made the purchase, it was Bountiful Baskets day. If you
haven’t heard about them, look them up. It’s a food co-op, run by
volunteers, that provides you with affordable, high quality produce. It
wasn’t long after I got my basket home that I started shoving sliced
bits of fruits and vegetables through the feeder and laughing
with any new experience, there have been a few curveballs. I wanted to
share a few of them with you, just in case you’re in the market to get
your own shiny, new juicer.
It's been a few days since I've been able to spend much time with Seamus, the stray who's adopted the humans in my building. It's unseasonably cold and snowy tonight, so I took a towel and a heavy coat with me when I went out back to see if he was around and wanted some pets. I called his name as I looked around for him, hoping he'd be close enough to hear me. He was. I'd caught him napping in the garage rafters, trying to avoid the wind. He hopped down and came running to me, talking the whole way. I swear, to listen to him, you'd think he's scolding you. "Where have you been? Do you know what time it is? Dinner was supposed to be hours ago.".
It's Saturday, and I spent the afternoon running errands with my friend and neighbor, Ms Jenny Tanner. (Names changed to protect the. . . damn.) Being perhaps the warmest day we've had yet this spring, we did most of the running around with the music up and the windows down.
Now, my car has a really fancy feature where if you push the lever to roll the windows up, it will do it with one touch. You don't have to hold it. If it senses an obstacle in the way, it will stop and reverse back to open. That's a safety feature to prevent injuries. It's a handy feature when you're driving a manual and you want to roll up your window in a hurry, but it's a pain in the ass when the sensor loses its damn mind and forgets where the end of the track is. It tends to result in the window going up, panicking, and retreating about half way back down, over and over and over.
turns out the looks you're giving me are as dirty as the towels you
want me to "prep" for the next guy. It's true. We have these touchless
paper towel dispensers in the bathrooms at work, and I generally opt
not to advance the next allotment when I'm done with my own. Why, you
ask? What's the harm? Well, nothing, really. Nothing other than a
little poop on your hands.