Category Archives: life

Oct29

Google Glass: Aren’t we already living in our own private Idahos?

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I admit to being a bit flummoxed by Google Glass.

For those of you who have somehow avoided hearing about it or aren’t quite sure what it is, Google Glass—still officially in testing and available only by invitation—is a wearable computer system for your face. Glasses, to be specific. Glasses that display data like smartphone devices and respond to voice commands.

On the one hand, it sounds like the glasses could have really amazing and important applications, like allowing ER physicians to act almost instantaneously because patients’ vital signs are always within their field of vision or…actually that’s the only proposed application that I could find which actually sounds important.

But you can also take pictures! Or stream the news in your face!

On the other hand, it’s sheer lunacy.

OK, maybe that’s overstating it a bit, but think about it. Sure, tweeting, updating Facebook, posting to Instagram, etc. would be effortless. But eventually your friends will unfriend and unfollow you to escape your life, overexamined:

The Tweets: “Ugh. Alarm just went off. Screw it—I’m hitting snooze” (OK, so maybe you won’t actually sleep in your glasses) or “Score! At CVS—Tampax on sale!”

The Facebook updates: “Finally finished my quarterly report—look at these awesome charts I made!” or “I’m at the appliance store looking for a washer and I can’t decide: should I go for a top or front loader? Because I’d really like to stack the washer and dryer, but top loaders are awfully expensive and what if I need to add a piece of laundry I forgot? Wouldn’t that, like, flood the room? What do you guys think?”

Instagram: Before and after photos of your mowed lawn. Or a close up at the gym of that new (miniscule) muscle definition.

Don’t even get me started about Vine.

And what about the possibility of accidental, embarrassing Tweets? Like, “Dammit! I am out of toilet paper. Why don’t Americans have bidets?!” or “I think I need a mental health day. I better call in now, while my voice is still sleep-scratchy so I sound sick.” (OK, this presupposes that your boss has access to your Twitter feed, but you know…)

Then there are the accidents. You know–pedestrians get hit by cars because they’re too busy listening to music/texting/looking at the Internet to pay attention? With Google glasses they could be looking straight at the car and not see it because of all the stuff in their field of vision. Have you seen those bumper stickers that say, “I Brake for White Canes’’ (As opposed to what? Speeding up?)? They could make ones that say “I break for Google glasses,” but will drivers really be able to tell who is wearing them?

As a pedestrian, I would be a hazard to other pedestrians. And possibly parked cars.

And you know people would totally drive wearing the glasses.

Who knows if Google Glass will become a must have accessory? Technology is developing so fast that it’s hard to imagine what’s next. I’m just creeped out by the vision of a population of over-sharing virtual hermits.

Plus the glasses are hideous.

Sep11

9 Years Ago Today….

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…I was sitting on my stoop, relaxing and drinking coffee as Houdini played in the yard. It was peaceful–the neighborhood was in weekday-quiet mode and rush hour on route 1 was beginning to slow. I lingered under that perfect blue sky, not yet knowing that September 11, 2001 had irrevocably become “9/11.”

Much has and will continue to be written about that day. I won’t pretend to have any particularly profound observations to make. But today, nine years later, these are my thoughts:


It’s another clear blue day–pleasant but no match for that cerulean blue I can still see in my mind’s eye. (I’m sure that the character of that sky–it’s shade and brilliance–has been embellished in my mind by time, but that’s how I remember it.) I am again on the stoop, drinking coffee. But where is the peace? All is noise. Yard tools are wielded. Traffic whizzes by, drivers on their way to…?

Yet on this morning, this 9/11, it somehow fits. I am reminded that despite all those we have lost–and continue to lose–time moves on. We move on.

Because I can see something else from my perch. Neighbors returning from the farmers’ market. Dogs walking their people (don’t kid yourself, it’s true). Bicycles passing.

And me? I skip down the steps to talk to a friend from two doors down as she passes by with her daughter, on the way to the park.

Because although clear blue Tuesdays in September still give me pause–the Apocalypse has not come.

Yes, Bin Laden is still in his cave. The “War on Terror” still rages. Al Qaeda cells continue to pop up everywhere, like mushrooms in shit. But we’re still here .

Can there be any better memorial than that?

Sep3

When does a woman become a cougar?

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40? 39? And do you get extra “cougar free” years if you get carded?

Those are the questions I pose in my current Facebook headline. It’s mostly a sardonic observation, but it probably won’t surprise you to learn that I turned 39 on Saturday.

I’ve never really dated younger men. Not sure I’m going to. But evidently “cougar” now means any single woman above the age of 40 (age taken from internet “research”).

OK. So let me get this straight.

My early 30s were all about the stereotypical baby clock. But evidently my late 30s were supposed to be about the cougar clock.

I’ll synchronize my special “cougar” watch. Goodness, I’m awfully behind in my preparation. Good thing I have helpful information like the tip below, taken from an article on msnbc called “5 tips to being a sexy cougar.”

Thanks MSNBC! I’m so relieved to hear that it’s OK to be a cougar just as long as I maintain a preternaturally young appearance.

clipped from www.msnbc.msn.com
  • Age is just a number. That’s the most important thing. These women are redefining what aging looks like. Because they eat well, exercise and do everything necessary to maintain a healthy balance in their life, 40, 50 or 60 never looked so good. 
    • blog it
    Feb28

    Die, rodent, die!

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    You know your life is seriously out of balance when you keep having to interrupt your work freak out/my-therapist-has-been-out-of-town-for-weeks call to your father in order to yell, “shit!” “get away!” and “goddamn mice!” at a particularly bold rodent headed for your dog’s water bowl.


    All of this while you’re waiting for the valium to kick in.








    Yes, this really is the winter of my discontent.



    Actually it started in November. Darting shadows, seen just out of the corner of my eyes. Then full-on eye contact with a mouse that ran out from underneath the radiator in my kitchen. Yuck.




    Well, I’ve dealt with mice before, I thought. And hey, why don’t I try those special D-Con no-touch, no-see traps.




    I bought four of the hockey-puck looking things. They did not have me screaming GOOOOOAL!!

    OK, back to my basic covered traps.




    But mysteriously the peanut butter kept disappearing without triggering the traps. Finally I started catching some of the sneaky little bastards. But they kept coming. And by January, they were feeling really comfortable with the place. Strolling out from under the couch to boop around the living room, la la la.




    After eight kills, I decided it was time for professional help. Help that wouldn’t endanger Houdini, who by the way, was pretty much oblivious to all of this. I called a place I had used before for other pests. They were pet-friendly. Or so I thought. However, when the guy showed up this time, he was flummoxed by the presence of Houdini.

    “Where do you want to put the poison?” asks Exterminator Man.

    “I’m really not comfortable with poison at all,” I said.

    “We do have really heavy baits that are hard to get into,” says EM. (Then how do the mice get in?)

    “Um, well, could you maybe put it someplace my dog can’t get to?”

    “Yeah, I guess I could put some in the attic and in the dropped tile ceiling of the basement. I’ll just have to use snap traps in other places.”

    Snap traps? Open, freaking, wooden snap traps? If I’d wanted to use those I could have set them myself!

    The visit was capped off by Exterminator Man telling me he couldn’t check for rodent activity in my second bedroom, due to all the stuff in there and that it would probably helped if I organized things.

    @#!&$

    Don’t. Bug. Me. About. My. Clutter.

    My therapist has been trying to teach me that my house is not a reflection of who I am, dammit! And who I am is seriously overwhelmed, so back off!

    The bill for all of this?

    $250.

    DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY COVERED SNAP TRAPS I COULD BUY FOR THAT MUCH MONEY?

    50!!!

    50!!!

    So now it’s February, and a second EM visit has revealed that the mice aren’t taking the poison. Or getting near the snap traps.

    He added glue boxes.

    I wasn’t happy, but at least I hadn’t seen any mice in the last few weeks.


    Until Tuesday. On that phone call with my dad.

    Get ready Exterminator Man, because you’re coming back. You will rid me of my mice!

    Otherwise, I’m moving out. Possibly to the psych ward….

    Oct16

    Our Daughters, Ourselves

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    Onslaught.

    It’s an award-winning short film from Dove’s Campaign for Real Beauty. The tagline: Talk to your daughter before the beauty industry does.

    I don’t have a daughter. But I do have a niece. And more painfully, I have a mirror.

    I don’t like what I see in it.

    Which is ridiculous. I am not hideous, deformed or even just plain ugly. But sometimes I think I am. In the mirror, on the scale, trying on clothes, just walking around. That little voice in my head: You’re fat. You’re getting old. Is that a wrinkle? A new gray hair? Is my neck starting to sag? My eyelids droop?

    I’m 38 years old and in pretty good health and shape for my age. I could stand to lose a few pounds–for my health–but I’m certainly not falling to pieces like some decrepit old house.

    And what if I were? Is it no longer possible to approach 40 without Botox and a plastic surgeon on speed dial? Is youth our only currency?

    These are not just the narcisstic ramblings of one neurotic type A personality, but thoughts that most women I know share. After all, we’re all subjected to this barrage every day.

    The film is a 60-second, turbo-charged distillation of everything advertising and the beauty industry have to throw at us.

    Very cleverly done. It captures our crazy-making beauty culture perfectly. There’s even a split second image of a woman kneeling before a toilet, presumably on the verge of purging.

    Read Advertising Age’s review of the ad–including appropriate calling out of Unilever for also producing Axe body spray and Slim Fast.

    Mar22

    Things I won’t do for the sake of the environment

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    Yes, it’s spring, and I’ve finally crawled out from hibernation to add a new post to my “new” blog.

    The number one emailed article at the New York Times today is about a couple and their small child going to eco-extremes in a year-long experiment in living green. To wit: they will not buy any food that hasn’t been grown within a 250-mile radius of NYC and they will not buy anything besides that food. They will also not use any carbon-fuelled transportation (elevators included) or produce any trash (they are composting IN their apartment). Among the food items that are banished (or will be once they run out): olive oil, balsamic vinegar and spices! They dine by the light of candles and one fluorescent bulb. And scooter or walk to work and everywhere else.

    I admire their commitment (and of others who are doing similar things), I do. I’ve been singing the praises of the environmentally-enlightened (and rightful U.S President) Al Gore since 1992. I am honestly seriously concerned about global warming, and as anyone who knows me will tell you, I consider “skeptics” to be the equivalent of people who still believe the earth is flat.

    But it’s hard to walk the talk. 



    I do what I can–I’ve stopped being a huge-ass hypocrite by switching to Metro instead of driving to work. I telecommute one day about every other week. My car is 7years old and has not-quite 50,000 miles on it. There are now new windows in my house, which means I can actually open them and not used the “fan” setting on my AC (more on that later). I have central air now instead of two noisy electricity-hogging window units. I recycle! And I kinda hate fast food and massive chain operations.

    However, there are some things that I refuse to give up for the sake of the earth. Here’s my list–I tried to rank them, but honestly, they’re all pretty important:

    I will not stop eating meat–I try to buy organic and local if I can and I don’t eat veal (OK that’s really about the meanness of it), but dammit I love me some good lamb once in a while. Or a big juicy grilled steak (charcoal not gas).

    I will not stop eating seafood—I’ve done the swordfish ban, and I know most of the world’s fish are being rapidly depleted, but I’ve gotta get my protein somewhere! I’ll try to focus on the less over-fished species, but don’t take away my omega-3s.

    I will not sweat it out without air-conditioning–OK, I know this is a big one, but people it is hot and so fraking humid in DC in the summertime. I can cut down but don’t cut me off! It’s a shameless excuse, but I really do get light-headed when it’s really hot out (I know, lame.)

    I will not wear ugly clothing    –Look. I’m not extravagant. I can’t afford designer clothes (which actually is probably less energy-intensive), which means relatively mass-produced off the rack. But I’m working on the whole “less is more” thing. And I don’t know which is less energy-intensive to produce: natural items or synthetics, but I do know this: it can’t be tacky and I am not wearing hemp.

    I will not stop buying music–But I will cut down on waste by buying virtually (ha) all of my music online. And I am keeping all of my forms of Bono and the boys–all the CDs with cracked cases, the concert DVDs and duplicate online files. Yes, I did actually download AND buy the physical CD of “How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb.”

    I will not give up my TV–Something has to distract me from the destruction of the Earth and the sick joke that is the Bush administration. And my TV isn’t very big–just 24 inches and a little tiny one in my room. Yes, I do read–a lot, but a world where I never experienced the X-Files or Buffy? Veronica Mars? Scrubs or the Office (UK and US)? Be reasonable.

    I will not stop drinking wine    –Actually, wine is produced within a 250-mile radius of my house. However, if you know anything about wine, you’ll know that much of Virginia’s wine is not just bad, it’s damn near unrecognizable as wine. And I really like a lot of wine from New Zealand and Australia. And Argentina, Spain, Austria…OK, I’ll try to mix some Oregon and Washington wines in there. And one of my Italian great-uncles used to make his own wine…

    I will not stop traveling to far-flung places–I want to see New Zealand and Australia. Bali and Southeast Asia. Argentina and Brazil. Maybe India. Various parts of the US. And how can I not go back to Italy? It’s in my blood! I’ve seen the stats on how wasteful air-travel is, but honestly I don’t get to do it that often. In the past few years it’s only been a few times a year and in some years, none at all. My only excuse is that seeing the rest of the Earth leads me to want to save it. It’s a whole balance thing, I know.

    And finally, I will not stop using toilet paper–One of the most fascinating and awe-inspiring parts of the Times article was that these people have stopped using toilet paper. I cannot. If forced to chose, I would give up toilet paper for some of the other items on this list, but I don’t see it happening any time soon. Don’t have room for a bidet. Don’t think they are all that effective anyway.

    Forgive me, Al. I remain your dedicated but deeply flawed supporter.