Dumster Bags, Petrified Roosters, My Music Slump, and Rubix Cubes

Just throw it in the Bag...

You have to hand it the eco-friendly people, they are pretty creative. Finding ways to use less or re-use, or use up what you have to me seems like it would be tricky, but worth it. Recently at Lowe's I noticed a new eco-item for construction projects. Dumpster bags! You just fill the green (of course) large recyclable Bagster© by Waster Management with your construction leftovers and the company comes and takes it away for a reasonable collection fee (compared to the price of renting and using a regular dumpster). It's made out of canvas that's completely reusable and is large enough to accommodate a small dumpster size's worth of trash, or around 3,300 lbs of debris.You can fill it concrete, or landscaping scraps, or whatever other construction type of trash you'd wish to throw away. Talk about cool :] The two only problems I could find with this method of eco-trash removal is that the Bagster© is not waterproof and the collection fee in some rural areas can be up to $129. Other than that, I'd say it's a pretty nifty idea...

Ewwww.

Chickens. Blah. Don't get me wrong, I adore a chicken in the form of edible food, but not in "real life." I can take Gen Tso's Chicken, chicken strips, Arroz con Pollo, cold chicken salad. Just not, for the love of bagels, a real live Americana hen! I think it's the chicken doo, squawking, and yellow beady eyes that get to me. Urgh, those eyes! It's like they can SEE into my soul. Hideous things, but fascinating when around little kids. My parents' neighbors down the lane recently adopted two Ukrainian brothers, ages being about 3 and 5, and they stopped over on one hot afternoon as the family was out of a lark of walk. A hot one, but they are avid walkers! At the house my mother has a few mobile pens with various breeds of chickens. Young chicks, year-old roosters, mother hens and the top rooster, stray roosters, the Big Huge Ugly laying hens, and more. The little boys were extremely fascinated with the roosters--namely, gently tormenting them in a young child-like fashion. Alexsander, the younger one, immediately ran over to the young roosters pen squealing in delight about the chickens in a language I assume was Ukraine. He poked his little fingers through the pen and that near about did for the frisky rooster boys. POW- SQUAWK- FLOOF! The roosters exploded into a pile of feathers, running to the other side of the pen for their dear skinny-necked lives, screaming protests. They were more skiddish than a pair of little girls finding a snake! Quickly rebuked for scaring the chickens, Alexsander was swooshed back into his mother's arms, but he craned his neck to watch and laugh at the roosters, who were squealing their protests and fluffing their rusty feathers in annoyance. I stood a few feet away, grinning, as I watched the whole scene play out. I have an idea me and Alex are going to be real, real good friends.

Hilariously idiotic? Heck yes.

What is it with music these days? I wish we could all go back to the days where songs were complicated stories.  All these modern boppy tunes of repeated choruses with alotta bass seem to be geared toward teenage audiences that are assumed idiots with no musical taste whatsoever. Just whatever is catchy and fast, cool and fun sounding right? Who cares about the lyrics, the distasteful use of explicit words, and ridiculous beating background noise? Or worse, the trashy lives of the singers. Well, I'll admit it, pop songs, soft rock, techno, punk etc...I do enjoy it when I'm out driving with the sun shining and the world is moving fast. Heck, even the beat goes with the road bumps sometimes! But try listening to Katy Perry's Teenage Dream, Timbaland's If We Ever Meet Again, or Mike Posner's Cooler than Me while trying to read a book...nearly impossible. But what's the solution? Beethoven?  Hymn songs? Folk lore strumming? Or worse, ethereal notes of New Age? No thanks. There just doesn't seem to be a neutral area. Either it's too plunky, too poppy, too rockish, too classical for my taste. I guess I shall dub this condition I have a ''Music Slump''.

WOWzers. DA-Huuuude. Geewilikers.

 4x4 Rubix Cube

I met this 12 year old kid at a neuro clinic today that could solve a 5x5 Rubix cube in less than 5 minutes. You could hear the rattling of the cube as he worked it with his slim agile fingers all the way across from the room, where his mother sat unfazed. She calmly explained to me that he could do a 3x3 Rubix in less than 30 seconds....I probably couldn't even solve one in 30 years. He showed me all his other ones that he had toted along in a reusable grocery bag (6x6, 5x5, 7x7, and a 9x9) and commented on who he hasn't quite figured out a 7x7 since he just got it yesterday for his birthday. The boy then carefully explained that the key is practice, but also a high quality Rubix that can shift easily, aiding in quick time to solve the cube. He looked like a nerdy genius and man, he sure could solve that cube fast! The things you learn while waiting in a reception lobby...




Sincerely Yours, Lizzie ♥

Ticked off Models, Colored Eyebrows, and Starbursts

 Is it just me or am I the only one that has a terrified face when flipping through fashion magazines filled with strange outfits (that no one in their right mind would wear in public) worn by models with seething, ready-to-kill faces? Why the murderous looks, Vogue? Happy, fresh looking girls not an option anymore? Quelle scary.

Of course I’m not saying the cheesy grins of models from yesteryear are any better than the sultry, pouting ones of today’s fashion runways (As in RUN AWAY!). But seriously, it’s scary. I’d rather read a magazine showing models with happy faces…or contented faces…or ones that don’t look like they’ve walked through all hell and are trying to be so convincing as a drop dead (literally?) gorgeous model that they across as seriously ticked off about something, or in two seconds they’re going to jump you and kill you off with a pair of ridiculously spiky stilettos. Like I said, quelle scary.

   But despite my ardent aversion of said modeled faces, I did manage to find something scarier: colored eyebrows. No, I’m not kidding. Vogue has been featuring dazzling pictures of girls with hideous blue and orange eyebrows as a part of their fall 2010 fashion guide. What, do they want us all to look like aliens now? Sure, we all know it’s okay to have ice-blue eyebrows on the runway to match your ice-blue lipstick and stringy ice-blue dress (if you can call it that), but try walking around downtown DC with those babies and you’ll get the kind of attention that isn’t necessarily flattering.  I mean its one thing to shave your eyebrows off and pencil them on, or even tattoo them on *shudders*, or do it just for a Halloween gig, but to shave them off and paint them on blue as a part of your daily makeup? Now that’s where I draw the line. And so should those crazy fashion designers.

   Starbursts are a wonderful invention. They come in 5 flavors (well, the original kind do anyway), they are sweet, they are sticky, and most importantly, they are cheap. If you have a bag of Starbursts, magically everyone becomes your best friend; and it’s entertaining to pick out your fave flavor and chew them in sticky sweet bliss. However, wonderful as they are, Starbursts come with two problems. Problem-o number one is…they don’t go with anything. I mean, try to eat Starbursts with crackers…or Coke…or a sandwich…or popcorn, and you will find out fast that Starbursts suck with any other kind of edible food out there. I’m been eating Starbursts (well, not like all the time) for years, and I still haven’t found a food that “goes” with Starbursts, so I usually eat them alone…and man oh man it’s very tempting to eat the whole packet or bag, kinda like a bag of potato chips. That presents problem number two: they are really sugary. Sugar wrecks havoc in your mouth, and also in your brain. So, since Starbursts are practically all sugar, consuming a large quantity of them (especially if eaten alone) leaves you with cavities and headaches. Nice. Who would have thought such an adorable thing as a paper wrapped, brightly colored piece of Strawberry candy could be so evil? :)

Sincerely Yours, Lizzie ♥

P.S. I tried adding a new Reaction Label (besides the weird, funny, interesting ones) called "Yeah, that's definitely Lizzie." but it wouldn't let me. Hmph.

My Moon Chair Must Have a Magnet, My Brain Must Have a Leak

My feet tingled, alerting me I had been sitting too long. It was the evening before D-Day, Destination Day. The next morning I would leave early to fly Westward and be gone for two whole weeks, folicly in vacational bliss.

My tummy suddenly growled. My mind began to wonder about various snack arrangements as I lay sprawled on my moon chair. I had eaten all the ice cream cones (without the ice cream, of course). My beloved gummies were safely packed in my luggage that threaten to burst at any given time. The candy stash had been pocketed by my sister, never to return. The stairs leading to the kitchen seemed a lifetime away as I lazily considered possible eating choices from my round, fluffy chair. Hunger was calling my stomach, yet I stayed as my brain began to mess with my eyes—obviously blinded by the hunger my stomach was announcing.

My ceiling transformed into strands of Twizzlers. My carpet became a sea of gummies, the red heart kind too, my uber favorite. Soon all my furniture was turning into my most-craved snack foods and I laid there amusedly, as I imagined my bed being cinnamon toast with marshmallow pillows. Clocks became pizzas, lamps became exotic popsicles, collectibles became Chinese donuts or roasted coconuts, dresser drawers turned into whole sheets of Belgium chocolate laced with Mandarin oranges, (which, by the way, is so good it’s to die for).

I rustled in my moon chair and surveyed my tasty surroundings. Like any good writer would, I reached over on my shelf and grabbed a notebook (which had miraculously remained inedible) and instead of ceasing my cravings for all things delectable, wrote down my happenings as inspiration had finally hit me. After all, everyone knows that the pen (when written in earnest) is always before the pizza, if you ever want anything published, even if it's from a moon chair.

I think I’ll go get a snack now. ^_^

P.S. Although on second thought-- if you have a freshly delivered pizza, eat that first, write later. Cold pizza sucks. What also sucks is I can’t even eat pizza anyway. Grrr.

Sincerely, Lizzie ♥