Purse Ponderings

I was in a high end retail store today and saw an ad featuring this glamorous, well-appointed, perfectly coiffed and stylishly dressed young lady. She had this doll face, perfect body and was doing some sort of cute little leap, saucy flirtatious wink thing that women in these types of ads usually do and no one EVER in real life would EVER do. You know what I'm talkin about, right? Well, underneath her image there was a quotation, presumably the thoughts or words of this enviable woman. The quote was something like "I am a connoisseur and not a consumer. I love to be surrounded by beautiful things."

Well, this got me thinking. What does this all really mean? Can a distinction be drawn between connoisseur and consumer and, if so, what is the demarcation dividing one from the other? I hate consumerism but am a huge hypocrite because I am one of the most rampant consumers you will find. I also spend a great deal of time studying and trying to understand the consumer mind and behavior. No, I'm not a psycho. It's my job, ok. But now I'm wondering if I might just be able to call myself a connoisseur. Seriously. I'm not just wasting my money on almost daily espresso drinks. No. I'm a coffee connoisseur. I don't have a harmful addiction to buying new shoes. Nope. I am a footwear connoisseur and the "pieces" I purchase are little works of art that I just happen to wear. Doesn't that have a much more elegant and inspiring sound to it? It does. In the spirit of being surrounded by beautiful things and in an effort to feed my inner connoisseur, I purchased myself a little present today. You see, I got my end of year bonus from work and nearly every dollar of it is going toward a very practical, not fun, totally unexciting and mundane home refinance (I'll likely blog more about that nightmare later). So necessary, but not so fulfilling. To think of it makes me sad and a wee bit depressed. I decided to use a bit of my hard earned bonus to buy myself a treat, to reward my consumerist, err, I mean connoisseur self. Here is what I got. Behold the beauty that IS the handbag (cue angelic choir like music):



SIGH. This is a gem my friends. Shiny silver metallic trim on this bad boy. Plenty of roominess with several compartments for easy storage and access. Just lovely. Purrs like a kitten . . . well, ok, it doesn't have an engine and I don't know what kind of fuel efficiency we are talking about here, but this is one classy ride and it costs MUCH less than a new car.

So, now where was I? Consumerism versus Connoisseurism? Am I a materialist or a Marxist? Am I shallow for loving this bag so much? Am I just feeding into our society's vacuous need for self-gratification via the acquiring of status symbols and pretty baubles? And, if I'm aware of this does that make me better off or worse off? Why do I feel so gleeful while also recognizing the empty promises offered by this manifestation of capitalist fetishism?

I'm too busy admiring the shiny goodness of my new purse to care. Let's talk about it later, ok?

The Truth Is Out There

Very excited about this.

Do you believe?

You better believe I'll be in the movie theater this weekend. Word.

Summer Reminiscing

It is a hot one outside today my friends. Hot. It's the kind of weekend day you long for in the middle of January when the snow is 3 feet deep, the wind is howling and the elements are so bitter one could freeze their extremities if exposed for more than 5 minutes. In those cold, cold days it is a pleasant thought to consider the blazing heat of July and all those associations that go along with it. The irony of this, of course, is when it does get up into the low 90's or higher, we tend to scramble into the nearest air conditioned home, restaurant or movie theater. I would go on to contend that, as humans, we always want what we do not currently have. But, this would be false because even though it is crazy hot outside, I am not wishing for the sub-zero winter just yet (and likely never will).

Summer . . . it is more than a season, it is a state-of-mind. It beckons to us and draws us back to our fondest childhood memories when school was out, vacation was a 3 month long adventure and the sound of lawnmowers and sprinklers awakened our sense of joy and happiness. As a kid, if someone would have asked me what images come to mind when I think about summer, I probably would have said a swimming pool, a bicycle, and roller skates. As an adult, my summer images have changed ever so slightly.



The refreshing citrus sourness of the perfect summer margarita rimmed with salt. The fire pit and the reminiscent smells of smoky burning wood lingering on your clothes, hair and skin. A fold out camping chair in the background just waiting for the group to assemble and share a few laughs round the old fire. These are the things that make my adult summer time sing. Now, my images seem to hold a distinct theme of leisure and lethargy (dare I say booze!) while as a child they were all about activity and boundless energy. What has happened? Have I lost my vigor for life? Is this just a typical growing old stuff? I'm not sure and I don't know if one is better than the other. I do know that, as a child, my summers were about speeding up, moving fast, getting gone and racing around. Now, I feel like I get plenty of that in my day-to-day hustle and bustle life -- well, not the exercise part but just the frantic stressed out part. When I do get out and enjoy summer I want to slow it down, be calm, take a breathe and just exist. Funny how things change.

I hope you are all having a low key and enjoyable summer so far. Remember to take time to sip the margaritas and hang out by the campfire if that is the kind of summer thing you like to do.

Oh, and if it is HOT where you live I recommend ducking into a cool theater to see the new Batman movie. Mr. Oz and I went on Friday and it was better than I expected. Definitely a great summer flick.

Jillian Makes Big Promises (But Can She Keep Em)

If you are familiar with the television show, The Biggest Loser, you would know trainer Jillian Michaels. She's one tough Beeatch. She has known to make big, tough men cry like little babies. She trains people until they vomit and then yells at them to wipe the puke from their face and get back on the treadmill for another mile. This woman has absolutely no sympathy. So, a few weeks ago I was in the market for an exercise DVD and what did I see but Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred.


This little gem promises you can lose up to 20 pounds if you complete one of the 20 minute circuit training workouts each day for 30 days. Hmmmm. I was intrigued. Really? 20 lbs? Only 20 minutes a day? OK, Jillian. What's the catch? Do I have to workout in a 115 degree room wearing one of those vinyl jumpsuits that traps my sweat against my skin? Must my only food for the month be a diet of celery and my own tears to quench my thirst? I read the DVD jack and didn't see anything like that. No. It was pretty straightforward and there weren't any gimmicks. So, I'm giving you 30 days Jillian. Of course, I can't eat cheeseburgers and fries and still expect this promise to be fulfilled so I'm ready to do my part if Jillian does hers. A nutritious breakfast to start the day. Lots of water. Sensible lunch and dinner. No junk food. And 20 minutes a day with Jillian. All right BeeAtch, Brrring IT!

Summer Storms

I have a love and fear relationship with Summer storms. We are experiencing one as I type this and it is both exhilarating and scary. You know those kind of thunderstorms where it is super hot and humid all day long, like we are talking blistering heat and then the cold front moves in and the temp drops 30 degrees in 30 minutes . . . that is what I'm talking about. Mr. Oz and I are sitting around at home when, for no apparent reason, the electricity cuts off. No power. Now, this is a problem when the air conditioner is the only thing standing between you and the Everglades moisture and Saraha like warmth of the outside. Bad.

I think guys have this "fix-it" gene embedded in their DNA which immediately kicks in to high gear. Maybe it is an off shoot of our primal flight or fight instinct, I'm not sure. But, for those of you who know Mr. Oz, he is not really what I would classify as a handyman type. Sure, he's good with computers and all things computer related, but household things like remedying power outages are not so much his thing. But, he tried . . . he sprung into action, grabbed a flashlight and skittered out to the garage to check the circuit breaker. Nothin. Nada. Zip. There was fiddling and flipping but no current. Suddenly we hear this chattering outside. Some of our neighbors were loudly discussing that they too had no power. Whew. It wasn't just our problem. This is strangely reassuring. That means the power company will swoop in and remove whatever burnt animal carcass is smoldering from inside the transformer cuz it crawled in there and some live wire zapped it. Poor chipmunk or rabbit or whatever. My remorse is low because, darn it, I need my television and computer and AIR CONDITIONING!!!!

Left with no other options, we left the house and headed to a neighboring watering hole for a cold beer and some dinner. Why fret in the ever increasing warmth and darkness at home when there is a cool, dark bar to hang out in, right? That is when we saw the ominous storm clouds rolling in. The once sunny outdoors grew an eery purple, black, grey with swirling winds. You could just see it rolling over us. Gulp. Once again, the fight or flight instinct hits. Well, I guess I should say the feast or flight instinct in this case. Do we stay and finish our delicious steak dinner or do we grab a to-go box and high tail back to our pitch black home? Hmmmmm. We stayed. We were brave (and hungry).

I know you are all sitting on the edge of your seats wondering what happened? Did a tornado form and lift us and our steaks high into the clouds, whip us around and drop us off in a field in Iowa? Did we make it? I know it isn't high suspense because I am typing this right now. Luckily we made it home safely and the power did, eventually turn back on. We have light and t.v. and the beloved chilly blast from the air conditioner is wafting over me right now. Ahhhhhhh. I'm not sure if the surge of electricity turning back on overloaded Mr. Oz's computer, but it doesn't seem to be working right now. That is making him grumpy. He loves his computer. BUT, tomorrow is his birthday (HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY) so who knows, maybe a birthday computer is on the list. Just what we need, more technology. :)

Gotta love a summer storm.

Book Meme

I was taking a break from de-cluttering the townhouse and skipping my evening workout and hopped online to check out some of my fave-o-rite blogs. Over at Hollow Squirrel, I spotted a book meme. If you aren't quite sure what to make of this meme business. Here is a brief and simple definition as provided by good ole Wikipedia:

A meme (pronounced /miːm/)^[1] consists of any unit of cultural information, such as a practice or idea, that gets transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another. Examples include thoughts, ideas, theories, practices, habits, songs, dances and moods. Memes propagate themselves and can move through a "culture" in a manner similar to the behavior of a virus.

Now you get it right? A meme is like the flu bug. It flies around hopping from one person to the next igniting symptoms like cough, runny nose, stuffy head, etc. Sounds awesome no? Well, despite the surgeon general's warning to stay away from all things virus-like, I decided to hop on the bandwagon and participate in this meme. Why? Well, because it deals with books and I LOVES me some books. And, it was transmitted to me by Hollow Squirrel and she is one crazy, awesome chica. Fo schure. So, here's the meme. Ready, set go!

1. Pick up the nearest book
2. Open to page 123
3. Find the 5th sentence
4. Post the next three sentences
5. Tag five people, and acknowledge who tagged you

The book closest to me is "In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto" by Michael Pollan which I have not yet started reading. Pg. 123 offers these fantastic sentence gems:

"Most of the missing micronutrients are supplied by fruits and vegetables, of which only 20 percent of American children and 32 percent of adults eat the recommended five daily servings. The cellular mechanisms Ames has identified could explain why diets rich in vegetables and fruits seem to offer some protection against certain cancers. Ames also believes, though he hasn't yet proven it, that micronutrient deficiences may contribute to obesity."

So, what are you meme-lovers out there supposed to take away from this? Hmmmm. I suppose the first thing is that peeps are not eating enough fruit and veg and that is BAD. Secondly, it seems that some person named Ames feels strongly about pointing this out and shaking his proverbial finger at all of us Americans who are nutrient failures. Third, not eating fruit and veg makes us fat. Finally, you now realize -- as if you hadn't already known it -- that I'm a nerd who reads nerdly books. Yep. Now there's some food for thought people.

Sadly, I don't think I have a total of five people who even read my blog on a regular basis so tagging five is not an option. Instead, I will just throw my virus meme out to Abysmal Scribble and Astitious. Oh heck, I'll even throw down the gauntlet to my buddy over at 155x5. I seriously doubt he'll see it, but who cares. Consider yourself memed! Hi-Yah (insert kick-ass karate chop motion and roundhouse kick).

Hot Damn, It's Salmon

I'm just wondering . . . would you make this?

Dishwasher Salmon

I'm seriously considering it but am not sure how I feel about putting it in there with dirty dishes and the ole Cascade. I do see how those hyper environmentally conscious out there might see the benefit of energy savings. Clean your dishes AND prepare a yummy dinner all at the same time. Wow.

This recipe reminds me of a song Mr. Oz found several months back. It is silly but catchy. You need to play it a few times and pump up the bass to get the full effect. Although everything within me screams out to reject and hate this song, I can't help but love it. Damn salmon!