Top Ten List

Hi there! If you haven't checked this page in awhile, this post will be a nice surprise.

Lots of stuff has been going on, which I'll fill you in on later. In the meantime, I'm currently obsessed with this article in Time which I found vis swissmiss.

It's something that I've been thinking a lot about lately. Purging my life of all the crap that I once thought I needed, and making sure I only have the things that I either need or actually add something to my life--whether it be function or happiness.

This part in particular hit me:
"It comes down to the products vs. the promise," says organizational consultant Peter Walsh, who characterizes himself as part contractor, part therapist. "It's not necessarily about the new pots and pans but the idea of the cozy family meals that they will provide. People are finding that their homes are full of stuff, but their lives are littered with unfulfilled promises."

I've read a couple of books lately about consumption and what really matters and realize I'm as guilty as anyone of hoping that if I have 400 thread count sheets or nice shoes it'll make me happy or fulfill me in some way.

Lately I've been trying to focus more on getting rid of stuff and being more about experiences, but it's still a bit of a struggle.

I feel a change a-comin'.

What are words for....

I was trolling through blogs recently and came across one written by a man who'd recently moved to my fair city.

In the post I read he was celebrating his one year anniversary of arriving in Seattle and looking back at the places he'd been, things he liked, etc. He mentioned some good record stores, some lovely restaurants, and then he commented on the people.

Oh, the good people of Seattle. For years I have heard what passive aggressive people we are, how we are all smiles to new people but then lack the ability to make friends. To a point I agree with this. A friend of mine has two other good friends that for the life of me I cannot get to know simply because I get the feeling I am not welcome in their inner circle. Fine. That's fine. I have friends of my own.

But what got my attention was this gentleman lamented that no one in Seattle can go anywhere without their damn iPod on. This, I felt, was an exaggeration. Everywhere? Really? With the iPod? Hrrrmmmm....

And then last week I began noticing too. People at bus stops, no problem. A woman shopping in the grocery store with the tell-tale white buds in her ears? A little odd. And at last, the woman who got out of her car at the gas station, popped her headphones in, and proceeded to fuel up.

Are we really so antisocial that you can't even risk someone might talk to you at the gas station? I prefer to think that we all desparately want a soundtrack to our lives.

Indoor Plumbing

I like to think it's a truism that there are certain equalizers in society. Things like bowling and karaoke. Seeing a gorgeous (but snooty) girl with a piece of toilet paper stuck to her shoe. Assholes with food stuck in their teeth. We all have our good and bad days, talents and lack thereof.

Along these lines, it's probably fair to say that someday, somewhere, we will all be at work and find that we have to take a poo. My friend thatgirlkelly and I have had numerous talks on this topic, mostly because she is extremely fearful of this activity. Fearful to the point that she will leave our building and go into the neighboring building where she knows there is a room with:

a) a fan to whisk away offending odors as well as any noises
b) only one crapper so she can lock the door and not have to sit next to anyone

A couple of months ago Bust magazine had an entire article devoted to the subject of dropping a deuce at work. The basic thrust of the article was that we all just need to get over ourselves, accept that sooner or later we all do it, and get a move on. Hah? Get it? Bowel movement?

Ahem.

I have a fairly healthy relationship with my movements as The Gobi can tell you. We frequently discussed the size, shape, and consistency of our poos, and he even once called me from work and described with immense glee how he filled an industrial sized bowl with one long poo. Even better? From what I remember it was a no-wiper, which I'm sure you all know is a highly coveted poo.

But still. But still. When I'm at work I usually try to find a secluded bathroom or at least wait until the coast is clear before I go.

I think it's also fair to say that we will all have a co-worker or two who we don't dislike by any means, and yet we can't really say we like them either. They're just not our cup of tea. They were possibly--ok, most likely--a sorority girl in college, don't have a great sense of humor, they talk endlessly about boring, mind-numbing things, and may even have a nasally voice. We'll call her Jen*.

Let's say we walk into the bathroom to do our business, and there is Jen, just washing her hands and apparently finishing up. Perfect timing, yes? We say hi and go in the stall, waiting for her to leave.

We take our time, put down the little paper donut, and generally rattle things around a bit so it's not totally obvious we're just sitting there, waiting for her to go. And she's still talking. Oh my God.

She is telling me about her weekend, her kids, her allergies, and how her contacts are bothering her, and she is standing right. outside. the. door.

So you know what? Bombs away, my friends. Bombs away.

She left in a hurry after that, and I am proud to say I am pretty damn sure that I wasn't the one who was embarassed. Thanks, Bust.

*not her real name. Or maybe it is.