Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Exciting New Recycling Opportunity

Yes, I get excited by ways to reduce my trash output. Stop judging me. Or, go right ahead and judge me. Who am I to rain on your parade?

From Anji Gallanos, I found out that Aveda stores and salons collect bottle caps to be recycled into new bottle caps. Which, y'know, beats that whole tossing them in the trash so they can be transported to a landfill.

His Awesomeness and I aren't soda drinkers, but learned how many caps can be collected by one couple when we asked my parents to save us all their caps so I could incorporate them into the set of a low-budget sci-fi film HA was planning on making. It was going to be a tribute to/ripoff of the set of MST3K. (Note how they glued stuff to the wall and then painted over it to make it look like all that stuff was important science stuff that was keeping the Space Station of Love running.

Anyway, my folks saved us dozens of caps that were destined for the trash heap. (And then HA started working on a different project with an actual budget, so I won't be building a space station set after all, so I could totally take those caps to Aveda now. Except that I think I threw them all out a few weeks ago after cleaning the basket where I had tossed them along with a bunch of knitting stuff, so that gives us further proof that cleaning is bad and we should spend our time doing things that are way more fun. Unless you're into that sort of thing, I guess.

But! Aveda also collects caps from ketchup bottles and mayo jars and other things, so us non soda-drinkers will be hoarding our caps from now on. I'm near an Aveda store/salon once a week, but I'd feel stupid going in with just one or two caps, so I think I'll fill a bag before stopping by. Maybe a small bag. I'm afraid I'll walk in to find out that they're the only location in North America that isn't participating and it would be way less embarrassing with a small bag than a big one.

Yes, my mind works in odd and disturbing ways.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Open Letter to Yet More People Who Need to Fuck Off

To the old lady in my building who's three days older than God and doesn't speak very good English,
I was willing to let it slide when you kept asking if HA was my son. I am less than one year older than is, so you know, thanks for that. He looks young and carries a Doctor Who lunch box, so OK. I took agin' you because if it, but HA insisted that you're old and probably can't see well.

But today when you stopped me when I was trying to leave the building to tell me that I "have to go on a diet," that was a little, shall we say, rude. And standing so that if I let go of the big, heavy front door to escape, the door would smack into you and probably knock you over because I know you can't open it yourself? Well, that was just obnoxious because I'm just not the sort of person to knock over a little old lady. Too bad you felt the need to punish my basic human decency with long explanations of how everyone has to diet and how your brother overeats and other stuff about which I truly do not give a shit. You only stopped when I told you that "the size of my ass is none of your business."*

You don't know me, you don't know my family history, my medical history or, apparently, that there isn't an woman in America (underweight, average, overweight or obese) who hasn't been on a diet. You don't even know if I am on a diet, which I'm not because I've decided to stop torturing myself and put my energy into activities that are likely to get results, but if I were on a diet, your little advice would've had me soothing my hurt feelings with some potato chips, so well done, there.

Sorry for upsetting you by being fat in front of you, but I'd rather be fat, than insulting, so, there ya go.

*I asked my friend Judy for a more polite response and she came up with a shocked, "you think I'm overweight? My doctor says I'm fine." which is guaranteed to embarrass the Hell out of the Buttinski. Old Lady's English isn't good enough for that one, but I'll keep it in mind for future encounters with concern trolls.

To restaurants that offer Restaurant Week menus that don't include side dishes, so that people have to order sides for the whole table at a cost of over $10, and the $35 a person meal turns out to be $70 a head when you add in tax and tip,
We're on to you. And although I ate up every bit of that 10 oz. filet mignon, you really could've given me, say, 8 ounces of meat, or even 6, and then thrown some potatoes and spinach on the plate and included that in the prix fixe. Because, you know, a prix fixe is supposed to be a full meal and all.

This is the second restaurant in 2 weeks that has pulled that and both times, I brought home leftovers. This is a budget event kind of thing. Stick to the spirit of the thing, will ya?

(And a hearty thanks to all the restaurants who made their Restaurant Week menus available online. I had Midwestern in-laws to feed and beef carpacio would not have cut it, so thanks for the heads up there.)

To the bird that's been hanging out on my fire escape and bird-screaming at someone or something,
Chill out, there, bird. I'm just sayin'.