Live Long and Dirty

What does constipation, rheumatism, arthritis, chronic fatique, heart disease and cancer have in common?

Toothpaste.

What does heart-attack, stroke, sleeplessness, depression, and yes, even AIDS have in common?

Toothpaste.

And in what common household item will you find hidden pain relievers, blood-clotting chemicals and other newer exotic poisons?

You guessed it.

This last Christmas I, make that Santa, brought my 4 year old some pretty expensive bubble bath, and every time we use it, I wonder why it says in giant font, "Contains no Sodium Lauryl/Laureth Sulfate". What the hell do I care about sodium lauryl whatever? I just wanted something that would fit nicely into his stocking. So last night was the end of the soothing and calming blend of overpriced "foam" bath, and today the empty package on my desk prompted me to find out why I should care. I'll try to be brief.

SLS is an inexpensive detergent used in almost everything in our homes used to clean things, from shampoo to garage floor cleaner. Garage floor cleaner? I haven't seen the floor of my garage in years. Anyway, this SLS has amazing penetrating power ( 8----> ) and is easily absorbed into your skin and will stay there for a long time. This is bad for many reasons, one being that SLS has a pretty strong estrogen mimicking quality. As you probably know, estrogen is a mostly feminine hormone, and when this mock estrogen gets into your system, all hell breaks loose, for men and women alike. Things like infertility, gender confusion, breast cancer, and menstrual problems can be the result.

There is so much more that I'm just going to send you here to read more for yourself. I'm also sending you here to see this really really bad website which claims that toothpaste can cause AIDS. And lastly, I will direct you to the beautiful image above, where you can see what a lack of toothpaste can do. I'd say constipation is worth the risk.

Twelve Years Later...

Tough lesson to write about today, mainly because I don't really know who exactly reads this thing. But, this self-taught lesson is what I learned today, and like it or not, I'm blogging it baby!

If the second biggest (probably the biggest but I'm trying to be a little humble here) account your company has is because you built the relationship, and because it's your designs they keep re-ordering, asks you to design a small line exclusively for them, just shut up, do it and tell the owners later. Especially if designing isn't your main job.

I know this sounds like a brag fest, but seriously, after getting a bunch of unwanted, uninteresting, and dare I say bad "suggestions" from the boss and the main designer today, I asked myself why I even told them what I was working on. And then I was mad at myself because I should have known better after all these years. It was then that I said, "This is it Donna, you are finally going to learn this lesson. Today. Just shut up and let your fabulousness flow."

I'd like to thank Laurence Acland for this perfect image today. Check him out here.

Going Postal

The day after my December mortgage was due, I realized I had no idea where my paycheck was. I had gotten it about a week prior and I was pretty sure I hadn't deposited it yet. So I went to my boss and told him that I think I accidentally mixed it in with the mail and dropped in the blue mail box on my way home. It was in a window envelope which showed my name and where it was supposed to go, but had no return address. Or postage. Truthfully, I had no idea if that's what really happened. It was probably just lost in my car somewhere. Since I couldn't tell him that, I made up a logical-ish explanation and he was very understandable. The next day I fed my starving checking account with a new check and life went on. But today.....

I learned that I actually factually did mix my check in with the mail.

Today we got a letter at the office from the United States Postal Service with a note and a picture of my long lost paycheck. It said something like, "Sometimes we get mail that we don't know what to do with. In these cases the law says we can open it up and to find out what to do with it. To protect your privacy, we have properly disposed of it by shredding. Here is a picture of your check." (If anyone wants the actual factual wording, I'll be happy to copy it verbatim tomorrow when I get back to the office, but I swear, it's almost exactly as stupid as I've written above.) And there it was. A picture of the paycheck I had abused so badly.
I was pretty pissed when I saw this.
First of all, it was pretty fucking obvious that inside this badly mailed WINDOW envelope was a check. I don't work at the post office, but I'm pretty sure I could identify an envelope containing a check by looking at it. Especially one with a little window on it. A check would signify importance to me if I were the one at the post office who's big important job is solving the mysteries of mail. This would signify importance to any moron, I would think.
Secondly, wouldn't it have made more sense to just send it "postage due" to the person who's address information they did have? I'll bet it cost more money and took more time to take a (rather damn good) photo of it, and waste the paper mailing me this redundant, assinine letter. And why, OH, why, wouldn't they have at the very very least, just returned the actual check?

So. I guess I actually learned something new about the USPS today too.

Mounds of Shells

Another day, another month, another year, all at once. So what do I choose to do with this special day? Go to Ikea. I'm nowhere near a shopaholic and I generally hate malls and buying crap made in China, but in order to keep my resolution for a neater, more organized life this year, I needed some more stuff. Ikea is about an hour away from where I live, so going there is a big deal and a few times a year, we go and make a day out of it.
Today, on the way home, I noticed something on Shellmound Street that I'd never noticed before. Right on the corner was this big Teletubby green hill with a fountain squirting out of the side of it. It was the ugliest, most retarded thing I've seen since that Suri Cruise turd sculpture thing.
Now, I am a true lover of art and I can appreciate most kinds of expression, but sometimes I see a ginormous piece of crap in a public setting and I fucking hate it. I wasn't really sure this thing was art or not, so incredulously, I turned to my driver, aka the Colonel, and asked, "What the hell is that hill thing supposed to represent?", to which he said, "The shell mound". He started telling me what I thought was one of his best bullshit answers yet. (Remember, we are on Shellmound Street with the sign hanging right in front of us). He proceeds to tell me about how the native Americans who used to live here long ago had made huge piles of shells, discarded from shellfish meals provided by the nearby sea. He said these mounds were all over this area, but they were bulldozed and built over. This fountain thing probably was meant as a respectful memorial of the people who lived here first.
When I got home, I looked it up.

He was right.

Lyckligt nytt år!!
(Happy New Year, in Swedish)
(Even though I noticed that almost everything in Ikea was designed in Sweden but made in China)
(Which pisses me off)

A Delicious End

We were having lunch today at one of our favorite Mexican restaurants and while I was eating, I practiced my Espanol by reading the hand written signs taped on the counter. I understood every word except one; plancha. After a little internet searching, I now know what the sign was advertising.

Broiled filet of fish.

Speaking of broiling hot and Mexican.... Wait, I just found out that Benicio del Toro is Puerto Rican. Oh well, he's still tasty.

Adios 2006!

Innocence is Bliss

I just watched this Twelve Days of 2006 video, and what I learned today is....

I'm sorta out of touch.




At least in the celebrity world.

I didn't know that Madonna adopted a baby from Africa, I don't know what Brittany Spears husbands name is, or was, and what's this Colin Ferrel sex fest thing about? Who is Colin Ferrel? Am I spelling Ferrel right? It looks like he was having some fun though. And what's with the cell phone hitting thing? I don't know the details on the puppy thing, but it sounds to me like it was a pretty good idea.
I'm thinking that in 2007 I'll continue on my course of ignorance and wait for the year end You Tube Barbie video to see what happened. Because you sure as hell won't find me reading a People magazine, not even in the bathroom. Because I just don't give a crap. Because, I, am, cool.

Pimp My Nutcracker

Thankfully I checked my e-mail right before I sat down to share my wisdom for the day, because I learned something way better from my Outlook Express and Lala today than I did from my boss.

Pimp My Nutcracker. Start with the usual cursed prince and pimp him like your MySpace. This is exactly the kind of holiday fun I needed today. Another way to waste precious time laughing.

Thanks Lora! This is way better than learning that my yearly bonus this year is one third of what it was last year. In some weird and surreal way, I somehow don't care. I can't explain it. Maybe it's because I love my Pimpin' Cracker so much.

Happy Birthday Mom!
(anymore December birthdays out there I should know about?)

Riga Greenhouse

Today I figured out what I want for Christmas this year. I think I can claim it as something learned today since I didn't know it yesterday.

I want a greenhouse. Not just any greenhouse, but this exact one (called Riga) because it's so cute and it's not too expensive.

I used to have a green thumb but it turned brown years ago from changing lots of diapers. I know it's weird but I've always been curious about propagation, and I've been wanting to experiment on all the different ways to do it. Plus I can grow good tomatoes, my favorite flowers and other yummy things all year long. So Colonel, here's where you can get me one at the best price (24% off!!). Outdora.com
Thank you!

Dumb Ass for a Day

This was me today, so I didn't learn a damn thing.
Well, this wasn't exactly me today. That big pink thing was actually chocolate.
And I wasn't wearing those shoes.
Ok, it was nothing like this. I was in some of my ugliest PJ's,
wrapped in my giant leopard blanket with a snowman cup of green tea.
But it was just like this in my head.

Donna-opoly

Somewhere out there in the world is a Monopoly game with a theme guaranteed to make you want to buy one. Brew-opoly and Wine-opoly, Cat-opoly and Bird-opoly, Bible-opoly and Farm-opoly, just to name a few. I've heard about these games before, but I didn't think they were for real. But they are in fact real games, and today I learned that:

The best selling Opoly game, according to Outdora.com is Dog-opoly.

I'm biting my sarcastic tongue right now, but I'm actually seriously thinking about that Cocktail-opoly.
Which one do you need?

And Happy Birthday Beaker. I hope you feel better.