Snow Day Coffee Table

This snapshot of my coffee table gives you a pretty good idea of how I weathered the recent snowstorms that brought the East Coast to a grinding, sliding, salt-encrusted halt. My ever-present water bottle is one of the few plastic items that I still have, and once it goes I'll be down to strictly stainless steel and polycarbonate water bottles. My ever-present to do list is also on display. As is the remote control triad. The DVD remote control came in handy when I watched Dear Zachary, one of the very best and most shocking documentaries I have ever seen. I have thought about it so much since viewing it, but I don't want to give too much away so I will only recommend that everyone watch Dear Zachary with a box of tissues, a pen, and a stamped envelope nearby. Reasons for the latter items will be evident after viewing some of the disc's special features.

The books on the coffee table are all arranged according to reading priority, a little phrase that I cooked up to explain the, um, priority of my reading material. Flash Burnout, Soul Enchilada, and We Are the Weather Makers are all review books with a deadline. Ditto Because I Am Furniture by Thalia Chaltas, a young adult novel in verse that I just loved. And hey, is that Kristen Stewart on the cover of Vanity Fair? Why yes, it's the 2010 Hollywood issue featuring ten whiter-shade-of-pale actresses (it's a fold-out cover) and spotlighting Kristen's bedhead. Vanity Fair gets a thumbs down on both counts. These offenses are glaring and inexcusable. I'm sure Kristen isn't responsible for her own styling in this instance, but – to paraphrase my *Pineapple Express reference* BFFF Debi D. – Hey Kristen Stewart! You are dating the hottest guy on the planet! Run a comb through it and represent!

Adventures in Plastics

For the past couple of days, I'd noticed a strong smell of melting plastic emanating from my beloved Honda Accord. The smell would get more noticeable as the car warmed up, and on the rare occasion that I ran the heater (I tend toward hot myself) it would become overpowering. I'm convinced that I even stunk up the entire parking lot at the local public library – well not me, but my car. And after driving for more than a few minutes, I would feel a strong headache coming on. It would also take an hour or two after getting out of the car to shake a general feeling of queasiness.

So I zipped over to see my favorite mechanic on Friday afternoon, not sure if they were still open. He said they're always open for a pretty girl (oh my stars!) and after I collected myself he took a look under the car with the benefit of a flashlight. Not a moment later he pulled a half-melted scrap of plastic out from under the car. At this point the smell was almost enough to make a person pass out, and I was already lightheaded from getting such a sweet compliment. And my point is thus:

Ego boost notwithstanding, all of this mayhem was caused by one plastic bag. And not even a trashcan-sized one, either. Just a garden variety grocery bag. Think of the chemicals that go into the creation of this one bag, and the side effects those chemicals caused when they came in contact with my li'l Accord's catalytic converter! And the chain reaction set off by putting a plastic bag, one of trillions and more, back into the trash or recycling. Yes, even the recycling plant has to do something with all those chemicals when the plastic bags are made into other kinds of stuff.

As a result, I am revising my stance on plastics. No more! No more plastic shopping bags, no more plastic water bottles, no more plastic lids on my to-go coffee from Wawa. For a while now I've been fairly diligent about using my cloth grocery bags, and I only need to expand this one good habit out to all of my on-the-run practices. I'm not sure yet how to proceed on the trashcan-liner front. I will keep you posted!