Less is More: Where to Begin?

Last night*, I watched the documentary Food, Inc. I am reading Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma and once upon a time, I started reading Eric Schlosser's Fast Food Nation (a book I do plan to finish some day in the near future), and I believe Food, Inc. was inspired by both of these books. So I decided to watch it.

It arrived in the mail, thanks to Netflix, yesterday, so I got down to the business of watching. (I was watching by myself, but the boyfriend walked through later, became fascinated, and finished the movie with me.) Like the nerd and perpetual student that I am, I found an old notebook, so I could take notes.

See? I really take notes, even in my free time.

I was immediately engrossed in the film, disgusted with the way our food is made and the ways in which big corporations control the production, policy, and regulation of our food.  One interesting part of the film was how changes can and have been made. Apparently, Wal-Mart made the decision to start supporting organic farms and foods, based on customer demand. I know there are a lot of reasons not to support Wal-Mart, and I'm not saying anyone has to shop there, but it's very interesting to see such a huge, huge, corporation making a change to support better farming and food preparation practices.

After watching the movie, we decided to make a list of things we can do. Now, we are not doing any sort of specific project, like the No Impact Man guy was. We just decided to make a conscious effort to change as much about our behavior as we can.

We started right away, deciding to cut the lights off for the night. The boyfriend loves scented candles (I don't mind them, just never think to light them), so he jumped at the chance to light a few. We cut off the lights and surveyed our surroundings. Acknowledging that I could not keep writing our list in so much darkness, we turned on the smallest lamp in the den. (Add to list: buy more candles) My favorite part, though, was when it was time to go to bed. We each took one candle with us. I took my candle to the bathroom, where I brushed my teeth with the candle on the edge of the sink. Next time, I'll put the candle on my right side; I came dangerously close to lighting my hair on fire when I bent over the sink to rinse! Then I carried the candle with me to my room, setting it on the dresser as I put away my watch and earrings, and setting it on the floor of the closet as I hung up my sweater and put on pajamas. The candlelight bouncing off the closet mirror added some fun illumination. Then I carried the candle to my nightstand, tossed my extra pillows (not throw pillows! just a big, sturdy reading pillow and two pillows with sham pillowcases on them) on the floor, and climbed into bed. I set my alarm on my phone and picked up the lid to the candle. This was my favorite part: I put the lid over the candle, so it cut off the oxygen supply and the flame faded out instead of going out instantly like a light. It was a nice way to get into the darkness of the night and prepare for sleep!

Our beginner's list for saving the world

We may not know exactly what we are doing, but we felt we should start somewhere. And the most important thing on our list is "Ask questions--get information." The more we know about our food and our energy use, the more control we have over what goes into our bodies and how we impact the world around us.









*OK It wasn't actually last night, I wrote this last week and forgot to post it!

Take a Vacation!

I hate to say it, but until recently, I had forgotten what a vacation feels like. We never took many family vacations when I was a kid, and my main getaway, summer camp, was already in the middle of a much longer break from school, so never felt much like a true "break" from everyday life. Since I've been older, the effort of planning, packing, and paying for trips has often kept me from taking them at all. But this past weekend made me rethink my stance completely.

My uncle is a painter and a teacher, and this weekend, he was honored with a retrospective show at a museum. My mother had been planning to go to the opening for weeks, but I always dismissed it with "I can't miss work." But when she started talking about it last Tuesday, I started to rethink my plans. I was already having a hard week (and it was only Tuesday). Nothing particularly bad happened, it was just one of those weeks: the weather was gray and dreary, work was feeling a little tedious and not particularly exciting, and I just felt a bit down. So I decided to go.

I was immediately excited. My whole week changed, for the better, with a trip to look forward to. I set about convincing my boyfriend to go with me, to see my uncle's house (beautiful!) and spend time with some of my favorite family members. He agreed and things were looking even better. 

As usual, I got a little stressed when the day of the trip actually arrived, even with the return of sunny weather (finally!). I plan ahead, sometimes too much, and my mind was preoccupied all morning at work with last minute things to do. My mother had decided to get sick, but was refusing to miss the weekend unless she had the flu (which she didn't), so I knew that the boyfriend and I would be doing all the driving. She also informed me that she wanted us to drive to her house, changing the plan of her picking us up. (This isn't, and wasn't a big deal, but since it didn't fit into the perfectly organized timetable I had mentally made for myself, it threw me for a stressed-out loop for a few minutes.) But, of course, I got my work done, I packed everything I needed (except deodorant, but I borrowed Mom's), and we got on the road.

View from my bed in the studio

Friday night was great, visiting with family, drinking, and eating a big, Louisiana crawfish dinner. Because of the number of people staying at my uncle's house, my boyfriend, my two cousins, and I slept in my uncle's art studio in the backyard. We loved it; it was the kid's table of sleeping arrangements, and we stayed up late talking and watching videos on our phones just like we did twelve years ago. (Well, twelve years ago it was ghost stories and poker games played with pennies, but the staying up late was the same.)

Saturday was the day I realized that I've been missing out on vacations. We all woke up at our own pace, the studio kids sleeping a little later than all the adults in the real house. We ate breakfast, talking and drinking coffee, and then slowly separated to do our own things. My boyfriend went outside to sit in the sun and do some reading and writing. My aunt and one cousin went for a walk around town, picking up tons of Mardi Gras beads left in the streets. My uncle, the painter, worked on his computer to do last-minute preparation for the show that night, while my other uncle slept on the couch. I showered about noon, then read my book on the (other) couch. My other cousin, still in school, studied upstairs. My sick mother, who kept referring to herself as Typhoid Mary, relaxed in her room. After a while, I went back to the studio to take a nap. This is when I realized that, somehow, my Saturday of doing nothing felt like one of the fullest days I'd had in months. That night, I saw my uncle's work, from over thirty years of painting, celebrated in a huge space with plenty of admiring fans there to witness it. Since we didn't know anyone but my family, my boyfriend and I slipped out to wander the streets and grab a snack and a drink at a bar a couple of blocks away. After the opening, we had another drink with my cousin and some of her friends, then headed to my uncle's house for a small reception. (We missed most of the people, because we went out on our own first, but there was plenty of food and wine left for us!) I went to bed that night, after more talking and YouTubing, full and happy.  

Who wouldn't feel refreshed here?!

My weekend was incredibly refreshing. Even when I wasn't doing anything, I was surrounded by some of my favorite family members, talking, laughing, catching up, reminiscing. So many of my weekends are spent mostly at home, with mostly my boyfriend and sometimes my mom, and it was nice to remember that I've got plenty of friends and family (and people who are both) to spend time with. And yes, the car drive back was tiring, and then I was back to reality and needed to wash clothes and prepare to go back to work. The trip was a break, and now the break was over.

But my weekend was more than a break. It was a renewal. A renewal of relationships, for one thing. I saw family members I hadn't seen in ten years. I got to spend time with my uncle during an important moment honoring his career. My cousin and I hadn't seen each other in months and months, and we are now starting to make plans for another trip to visit my sister. And, as cheesy as I feel saying it, it felt like a renewal of the soul. It was a reminder that the bad times, the tedious work days and gray weather, are not permanent. I was reminded, figuratively and literally, that the sun'll come out tomorrow.

I am so glad I decided to take a vacation. It could not have been better for my mind, heart, and soul, and it wasn't even painful for my wallet. I hope I can remember to relax and plan a vacation every now and then, both to new places and hopefully, back to my uncle's wonderfully inspiring and invigorating home. 

And I hope that every vacation, when I ask someone to take a picture of me before I leave, ends with as fun and as weird a photo shoot as this one did.

Happy Grammar Day!!

You didn't think today was Valentine's Day, did you? Silly you! Today is Grammar Day!

I love grammar and the English language. I do. I love the rules. I enjoyed diagramming sentences in high school. I like to play word games that involve spelling. I was a spelling bee kid (3rd place in the school district spelling bee when I was in 5th grade, bam!). I correct people's grammar even when it's totally inappropriate, such as when my friend who writes for ESPN wrote a very interesting blog post on Ole Miss and our newest football recruits, and my only comment was to point out a typo.  I have a very smart friend, so intelligent and much smarter than I am, who constantly types out "your" when she means "you're", and it drives me crazy! Why can't everyone take a few extra seconds and check their spelling and subject/verb agreement.

Recently, my heart was broken by Microsoft Office. Let's be honest, Microsoft Office never really wooed me to begin with. Its hatred of the passive voice is a little overzealous; sometimes, you just have to use it. But my heart was completely broken, my trust completely betrayed, when I was writing an article for a health publication. I wrote, "And always, you should see a doctor if you believe you are pregnant." Not only did spellcheck mark it as wrong, but this is the suggested "correction" they gave me:

I couldn't believe it. Has everyone in the world been skipping English classes? Since the 3rd grade? I'm fine with breaking the rules now and then, for stylistic purposes, but this shows a complete lack of understanding of basic subject/verb agreement.

Today, however, a Facebook friend gave me the best Valentine's Day present. On my timeline, she posted a link to The Top 20 Grammatical Pick-Up Lines. My favorites are, "Let's make like an infinitive and never be split," "I would never precede you with which, baby, because you are essential to this clause," and "May I call you whom? Because you are the object -- of my affections."

Thank you, dear friend, for brightening up my day in a world too often filled with spelling errors and grammar mistakes. You give me hope!

My Obsession with Technology, or, My Confession to Being a Nerd

I am obsessed. I love technology. I fought it for a while. I loved books, and someone who loves books is supposed to hate new things like iPads and e-readers, right? But the truth is I do love technology, and I always have.

Maxwell Nerdstrom...
remember him?

Let me say, in case you haven't figured it out, I was a big nerd when I was a kid. Not the Maxwell Nerdstrom from Saved by the Bell kind of nerd but still, a nerd. I wanted to read all the time. I wanted to be a writer. I started a family newspaper called The Leslie Gazette (and by family newspaper, I mean for my family, because no one else wanted to be involved in actually creating it...or reading it). I alphabetized my books and tried to run a library out of my bedroom for my sisters. I got very excited when we first got a color printer and turned in a paper to my 6th grade English teacher with almost every sentence in a different color (I wish I were making this up).

I think my love of technology started with the creation of my newspaper. We had a computer program designed for kids to write; it turned writing into a sort of game. I remember you could get the computer to read back what you had typed in an automated voice. (We got the pre-Siri voice to read the phrase, "Spectacles testicles wallet and watch" because we heard Austin Powers say it. And it mentioned testicles, so clearly it was funny.) You could write in different fonts, different colors. And you could type in columns. Once I realized that typing in columns was the key to looking like a newspaper, I was in heaven.

And then, then, I discovered 2-sided printing. Oh my friends, how this changed my life. If you printed your story on both sides of the paper, then it looked like an actual book! You just had to staple it together down the left side and, voila! You basically had a book ready to go. (This was still helpful as I got older; printing on both sides of the paper allowed to me save money on paper as a poor college student.)

So, even though I balked when Kindles and Nooks became popular, I was already a longtime fan of technology. Yes, I love the feel of a book in my hands. Just a few minutes ago, I almost got distracted by picking up a copy of One Hundred Years of Solitude that my boyfriend left lying around. It's not an actual Mass Market Edition (you know, the paperbacks that are short and fat and feel so good in your hands) but it's the same size. Anyway, I loved the way it felt and the old, yellowing pages, and I started reading the first page and almost gave up on writing for the night (I'll probably read it after finishing this post). I will never, ever, give up on physical books.

But I still love the idea of e-books and e-readers. I love the eco-friendly, paperless aspect. I love that you can carry tons of books (and magazines!) with you in one lightweight device. And now that so many people recognize how unfair big chains (cough, Amazon, cough!) are to independent bookstores, there are even online stores like Kobo Books that sell their own e-readers and allow you to buy e-books through your own local bookstore. (Square Books is mine; check it out!)

And now that I work in publishing, technology helps me to create books. How cool is that? I've gotten to do the layout on a couple of book projects now, and even though it gets tedious (Why won't that last sentence fit on this page?! Whyyyyy?!?!?!), I love it. I can choose the font, choose the spacing, and make this computer screen look like a book. Then we send it off to a printer and they send it back as a Real. Book. Or we can create an e-book. Or both. It's even better than my 2-sided printing jobs!

So, I will no longer be ashamed of my love for my iPad, or my phone, or my computer. I wouldn't have a job in publishing without them. Hell, I wouldn't be able to blog without them (and then I couldn't force my writing on all of you, and what kind of world would that be?). Embracing e-books, tablets, and smart phones does not mean I have to give up on physical books.

I will not choose. I will have both.

Here's My Number, So Call Me Never

You know you're bad at talking on the phone when you hear your boss comment on it.

To be clear, my job is not as a receptionist, or secretary. Answering the phone is nowhere in my job description. But I'm an editor at a small publishing company, and because we are small, we don't have a receptionist. We take turns answering the phone (or really, I just let the phone ring twice and if no one else has picked up by then, I begrudgingly do it myself).

Last week, I was packing up my stuff to leave for the day. My boss and one other coworker and I were all talking and laughing as I packed up my computer. My boss was preparing to take a dolly full of books out to his car, and the phone rang. I had no choice but to answer.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Guy on the Phone, is Boss there?"

As the guy on the phone was asking me this, my boss was trying to talk to me. "Is it for me?" I nodded to him while trying to listen to the guy on the phone.

"Yes he is."

Awkward pause. See, I'm used to people saying, "May I speak to Boss?" And then I say "May I ask who's calling?" And they tell me their name, and I say, "Let me see if he's available." But this guy had asked a different question, and he asked it while my boss was talking to me in the office, and it was the end of the day and I didn't want to be on the phone anyway!

Anyway, during the awkward pause I realized that the guy assumed he had said enough.

"Um...one minute, let me get him."

I put the phone on hold, and Boss asked who it was. "Um it's someone with Mainstream,...Water Valley..."

My boss, a little annoyed, asked, "Is it a man or a woman?"

"His name's Guy on the,...or Boy? Oh, it's a man. I'm sorry..."

My boss went into his office to pick up the phone as I let my head drop in disgust. I couldn't even take a phone message. And then I heard, from my boss's office across the hall,

"Ha! Well, we all take turns answering the phone around here. She's really an editor."

Ouch. The guy said something about my being a terrible receptionist. I picked up my computer and left for the day, feeling particularly dejected about my office phone skills.

The truth is, this is not just an office phone thing. I hate answering the office phone more than anything else. But I also hate talking on the phone in general. Even in my very small office, we e-mail almost everything to each other; I usually e-mail in sick instead of calling. With my friends and family, I usually text. I have no problem calling my mom, sisters, or boyfriend, but I tend to text first, unless I'm driving or in some other situation where calling is necessary.

If anyone besides my mom, sisters, or boyfriend calls me, I'll usually let it go to voicemail. It usually doesn't matter who it is; if I don't know why they are calling, I usually let the voicemail pick it up. I have even, in the past, let a call go to voicemail, listened to the voicemail, and then sent back a text that said something along the lines of "Hey, I'm in the library so I couldn't answer, what's up?" (Sadly, graduating from college killed this excuse for me.)

I'm not sure why I hate talking on the phone so much. I always feel awkward, even when talking to friends. I did read once that introverts tend to like written communication better. I definitely like being able to think, write, delete, reword, look over, and then send. The truth is, I don't respond well quickly. I like to take what people say, think about it, and then respond. This does not work well for phone conversation, when the person I'm speaking to can't see that I'm trying to process and form a response.

I have one friend, a great friend, who is very smart and loves to argue. Even if he's playing devil's advocate, he just wants to argue one side of an issue and see what you come up with. I have actual anxiety about talking to him because I know that I won't come up with responses quickly. I am not intimidated by his intelligence; he is smarter than I am, but I know that I can answer his questions with thoughtful responses. I just can't answer them quickly. (Also, he is one person who has been on the receiving end of a library lie for avoiding his call.)

This is why I hate talking on the phone. This is why I'll never be good at it.

So, please, if you want to talk, just shoot me an email. Or a text. Or a Facebook message. Or a tweet, even. Just please don't call me.

And please, please, don't call my office.