• Au naturel

    No, this is not a post about nudity (though I’m bound to get a few disappointed googlers after this first sentence).

    No, this post touches on my recent efforts to eat and dress better. In addition to trying freshen up our diet with more organically grown veggies, I’ve done a little searching for low impact clothing. A co-worker suggested organic cotton and bamboo.

    Bamboo? Are we talking about that same stuff the folks behind us planted in their backyard, and now we can’t get rid of… short of emptying a can of gasoline and striking a match? (I’m guessing the law might have a problem with me setting my lawn on fire.)

    Yes we are.

    As it turns out, bamboo is treated with some pretty strong stuff to make it suitable for clothing, so I’m not sure it fits my criteria for “low impact.” Still, I was curious.

    I gave some nice folks on the internet my credit card number, and in return they sent me three bamboo/cotton mix t-shirts. My wife thinks I’ve gone around the bend on this one, but she’s also the one that said my steamed carrots were too strong.

    “Is there too much spice?” (sometimes I add a little allspice.)

    “No, the carrot taste is too strong.”

    “Wait a minute. You think the carrots are too carroty?”

    “Well, when you put it like that it sounds kind of silly.”

    You’ll have to forgive my wife, her parents taught her all vegetables came from a can. (You have to give her this though: she lets me post this stuff, so you know she’s a pretty damn good sport.)

    Anyway, they finally came in the mail. I’ve discovered that bamboo may not be all it’s cracked up to be as a renewable resource (in some circles anyway), but it makes a wicked comfy t-shirt.

  • Nerves of noodle

    Nothing new here today. I’m going to self examine again.

    There’s a guy I work with that I disagree with all the time. We talk politics, sports… all kinds of stuff that normal people discuss, and argue.

    The thing is, talking to him is safe. We’re friends, and I know that whatever I say we’ll still be friends. I can toss out irreverent cracks and he can return service with equal vigor, but we do this all day – every day. I know from experience that everything will still be cool, that we share a level of mutual respect that will overcome almost any transient disagreement.

    My wife and I are the same, although we don’t disagree about politics all that much. Laundry? That’s another story. But the important stuff? We’re reading from the same page of the manual.

    My problem comes when I’m not speaking to the folks I talk to every day. Then I’m more timid than a shy four year old among adult strangers. It’s hard to reconcile my opinionated, inner blogger, with the shy, inner four year old. Sometimes I’ll be in a crowd and hear something that sets me off faster than a spark in a tank of gas fumes. WHOOSH! My mind is lunging and tugging excitedly at the end of it’s leash, just begging to be set free. But it’s almost always denied. And when I do put myself out there? It makes the repressed emotion of saying nothing feel like a soothing/calming/relaxing rainy day. You know – one of those days where it’s just a little cool inside, you don’t have to go to work, the kids are off having a play day with friends, and you spend the day in a fluffy pair of slippers and fully immersed in a good book.

    Oh yeah, I’m that uptight. I like to think of myself as someone who is secure enough not to care what other’s think; but it’s a big-fat lie. The really strange thing is that I seem to worry more about what strangers think. Part of me thinks it has something to do with the familiarity of friends… the knowing they’ll still be around if we disagree every now and again (hence, the introduction to this post). But I’m not entirely sure that’s it. I wonder if the shy four year old wants desperately to make more friends, and therefore is leery of pissing people off. Then again, that doesn’t really fit with the stuff I say here… though I suppose this feels more like talking to myself than to strangers. I don’t mean that as commentary on this blog’s reach, it’s just my mindset when I write.

    I’d say it’s odd, but the more I get out the more I find there are others who have some things in common with me. It doesn’t make me feel much better, but I suppose it’s something.

  • My frustration, presented in vague context

    Just so you know, I’m kind of grumpy today.

    Imagine this exchange (fill in the variables with whatever relatively simple task suits you):

    “Excuse me, could you tell me how to do X? It doesn’t come up often here, and I don’t know how.”

    “I don’t see how it’s my problem. And by the way, what you’ve got is clearly Z.”

    “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. No, seriously. I wasn’t trying to pawn it off on you. I really don’t know, but I’d like to. I see how it could look like a Z, but it’s not my call. I’ve been asked to treat it as X. You know how it is. Now I’ve got to get this out yesterday. Can you tell me how? If you can’t that’s cool, but do you know who could?”

    “No, you were pretty clear, I just don’t see how it’s my problem.”

    “…” (That’s what my incredulous stare looks like in print.)

    My self confidence isn’t always terribly high, but I always thought I was a reasonably nice guy – someone who’s seen as pretty helpful. I find that almost everyone reciprocates when I need a hand. It’s one of the things I really like about this place. Maybe it’s because it doesn’t happen very often, but I’m almost always shocked when someone doesn’t. Was it something I said, or the way I said it? Was I speaking in tongues?

    Hell, it’s not like I was asking for a week-long seminar. I just needed the name of two items and where they needed to be sent. We’re talking about 30 – 60 seconds of talk time. It probably took half that much time to brush me off. Hell, I don’t even remember pissing anyone off recently.

    I think it’s because I’m shy, but it usually takes me a while to find the exact words I want to say in person (with a few exceptions). Heck, it takes long enough when I’m all alone with my PowerBook. Ah, but anger has a way of greasing my wheels of expression. All kinds of choice, satisfying, and wholly inappropriate words came to mind. I didn’t say any of them.

    You know what’s the worst of all? This happened a week ago and I still haven’t got my answer, not even going up the ladder a few rungs. I’m almost speechless.

    AGGGGHHHH!

    Catharsis anyone?

    By the way, it was an X not a Z. If this person had taken about 30 seconds to check their facts they’d have known too, and not looked lazy AND stupid.

    I’m afraid there’s a chance that last line didn’t help my reputation.

    But it felt pretty good.