The Flu Shot
Come flu season, I load up on orange juice and try to get as much sleep as my schedule allows. My master plan must work – I haven’t had the flu since I was in third grade (knock on wood). Hopefully bragging about the fact won’t jinx the good luck I’ve had.
This contagious respiratory illness makes getting your teeth pulled sound like fun. Lingering memories of the flu from over 15 years ago indicate how prominent the symptoms of this illness are. Missing school suddenly wasn’t so cool. Class was way better than lying on our sofa like a dead fish.
Sweating one moment, shivering the next, I remember feeling nauseous as the aroma of tacos drifted from the kitchen. Even after I was well again, it took me years to regain an appetite for tacos.
Spending a few achy days coughing, sniffling and vomiting isn’t exactly desirable. Add a high fever, headache and a sore throat, and you’ve got a recipe for a few of the worst days you can imagine. If you’re really unlucky, the flu can cause serious complications: bacterial pneumonia, dehydration, and worsening of chronic medical conditions (heart failure, asthma or diabetes). Dreaded!
According to the Center for Disease Control, the flu is usually spread in the form of respiratory droplets from coughing or sneezing. It’s also possible to become infected by touching something containing the virus and proceeding to touch your mouth, nose or eyes.
The CDC also informs us that healthy adults may be able to infect others one day before getting symptoms and up to five days after getting sick. Does this make anyone else want to wear a gas mask 24/7? Do you find yourself evaluating the risk level of giving high fives during the flu season? Am I a bad person for wishing a sick friend weren’t along for the ride when they’re inches away talking about their “bathroom experiences” this week?
They say the single best way to protect yourself against the flu is to get vaccinated each year. This is likely why hundreds of people rush to hospitals and clinics… only to get sick the next day.
Or is that just my imagination? I’ve never had the shot, but I seem to hear an awful lot of complaining from flu shot believers when they get sick after receiving the vaccination. In the last week, two of my friends declined plans claiming that they “got the flu shot yesterday, so they’re sick today.” They say it as if they expected this would be the result, so why’d they spend the money to get sick?
Nurses insist it’s just a coincidence. They say that just because two things happen at similar times doesn’t mean one is the cause of the other. They claim it’s similar to purchasing a winning lottery ticket on the way home from the doctor’s office after your shot. Not related.
Baloney! When you inject a dead or weakened virus into your body, what do you expect? I think I’d rather chug a glass of orange juice every morning and steer clear of people who get “the shot.”
Hopefully I won’t find myself regretting my decision, immobile on my couch this winter.
Now go wash your hands!
Shootin’ the Wit is a weekly column about everyday life that should never, ever be taken too seriously.
Posted by: Laura Stoneburner on 11.17.2008 at 8:19 AM | Comments (0) | Permalink
Unwanted Visitors
Over the past two years, there have been 15 reports of unwanted visitors in the F-M area. Fifteen! When this insanity began, I hoped that it was one man committing all of the bizarre acts. Instead, police have come to discover several creepers in the area. About half of these cases have gone unsolved…Scary!
These incidents began to worry me a little. And by “a little” I mean “a lot”. If I awoke to a man watching me sleep, I’d never be able to erase it from my memory. I would be afraid to close my eyes. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I’d ever be able fall asleep again. Not without nightmares anyway.
This left me wondering… can a renter install security systems in apartments? Does the police motto “to serve and protect” include sitting outside my place, keeping an eye out for random acts of insanity? Are there places to rent a date for an evening? If so, do you have to pay extra for them to stay on guard overnight while you peacefully get your beauty sleep? Do you have to be famous to have a bodyguard?
I hashed the issue over with my mom one afternoon. I was rather concerned, and decided to start preparing before I found a masked man in my bedroom. While mace would have been the most practical solution to defend myself, we were brainstorming less conventional defense methods. Mom’s idea was to keep a slingshot next to my bed.
Great idea, Mom. Let’s see… I’ve shot a slingshot about three times in my life. This was used as a form of self defense when I was about to get mauled by my older brother about 13 years ago. I have a feeling my shot hasn’t improved much since then. Add to the equation complete darkness, being groggy, and a situation about as comforting as hanging from your fingertips off a cliff. I’d be impressed if I could hit a bedroom wall in such circumstances, let alone a scrappy criminal. Needless to say, unless the predator belongs in a Hall-of-Fame for cowards, my flinging of stones likely wouldn’t stop him. Plastering an alarm system sticker on my door would be easier, and probably more effective.
As a more feasible weapon, I was thinking along the lines of a Louisville Slugger. Now, my batting average may not be the best, but I know how to swing! I’m pretty certain your aim doesn’t have to be perfect in order to beat one of these nutcases down to the floor.
Barring my windows and setting up little “traps” in my apartment were other ideas. You know – the typical mouse traps, discrete obstacles, or “tripping strings” were all ideas, but somehow a baseball bat just seems like more fun. After all, who cares if the creeper runs into a piece of strategically placed furniture? I do that on a daily basis and it doesn’t keep me from doing what I want to do.
It’s tempting to replicate the scene from Home Alone where Kevin (Macaulay Culkin) sets up his living room to make it look like he’s got a full house. Cardboard cutouts are placed on toy train tracks, and dummies are tied to strings which he ends up dancing with. Music is blaring, the lights are on. Regardless of how crazy a creeper is, I expect he would avoid entering such a happenin’ party. Setting up my living room like this would be a blast. Although my neighbors would think I’m pretty cool, I suppose a security system might be more practical. Besides, I broke my train track a long, long time ago.
Some more realistic suggestions, for people having similar concerns…
GET A DOG
Dogs are an excellent defense mechanism, and I’m not talking about a little Poodle. Try a Labrador Retriever or a Doberman Pincher… one with teeth large enough to sink through an arm.
LOCK UP
Several of the incidences reported mentioned that the doors were unlocked. Can we please do away with the “We’re in Fargo” excuse and start locking our doors? If you’re going to leave your home open to the public, you might as well make it easier for crackpots of the world and hang a neon “open” sign above your door.
SHUT THE SHADES
Keeping your shades drawn prevents burglars from taking a gander in and adding to their shopping list.
TAKE A SELF DEFENSE CLASS
Knowing how and where to kick is key!
GIVE THE IMPRESSION YOU’RE HOME
While the Home Alone scene may be going a little overboard, setting up a scaled down version is a good idea. Leave some lights or a radio on. A person could consider investing in a fake TV which simulates the flashing images of a TV, but uses much less electricity. (Visit www.faketv.com for more information.)
KEEP A WEAPON ON HAND
If you’re not comfortable with a gun, consider mace, a baseball bat, or like you see in the movies, a frying pan. If you’re paranoid, keep all four on or near your nightstand.
AN ESCAPE PLAN
Find a place to hide or a way get out without being hurt.
INSTALL A SECURITY SYSTEM
If you’re not technically savvy, hire someone to do it! After all, it would be a shame to spend the time and money installing a system incorrectly… it could get stolen!!
KNOW YOUR NEIGHBORS
Their constant presence may get on your nerves, but you’ll want their snoopy eyes watching out for unwanted folk lurking around your home. Sure, she’s weird, but having Nosey Nancy Newman calling the second she sees something suspicious could thwart the oddball’s attempt at getting into your place.
VIDEO TAPE
Hopefully it won’t come down to this, but you may want to record a little “virtual tour” of your living quarters, your belongings and any valuables, just in case you find yourself in the unfortunate situation of having to make an insurance claim.
Shootin’ the Wit is a weekly column about everyday life that should never, ever be taken too seriously.
Posted by: Laura Stoneburner on 11.07.2008 at 5:40 PM | Comments (0) | Permalink
Waitressing Blues
I once was a waitress. In fact, I had my fair share of bartending, serving and cocktail waitressing. The job had its ups and downs, but let me give you a hint – it’s a lot of work. There were many-a-time when dealing with certain customers wasn’t worth the tip they left.
Not sure why I got into this work, considering what I heard of my mother’s waitressing experiences in high school. Anyone who serves iced tea by tossing a few ice cubes into a cup of hot tea either hasn’t had proper training or just isn’t meant to be a waitress. I guess this would explain her “tip” written on a napkin which suggested using an umbrella when it rains.
There are a few types of customers I constantly found myself dealing with… I’ll break it down.
The Romantically Mushy Love Birds
These guys are great. As their server, I felt as if I interrupted something every time I stepped within eight feet of their table – even when I was bringing them the plate of spaghetti they ordered to share. Many hold hands across the table. Others share one side of the booth, cuddling up as if they’re at home on their couch.
The Fighters
A couple, obviously on each other’s nerves, strolls in. Before even greeting the table, one can see it's not a good situation. The woman is on her cell phone, venting about how big of a jerk he his. Turned away from her date, she tries to ignore him. The guy pretends not to notice and is watching the game on the closest T.V. Stupidly, you ask how they’re doing. No response. Marvelous. Rest assured, if they want anything, they have to talk to the server. The man orders drink after drink while his girl’s anger steadily elevates. Then it all goes down. The guy starts hitting on you. Keeping your tip in mind, you try to remain friendly, while preparing yourself to be chased down by this woman with a swinging purse and a nail file. I'll give The Fighters the award for creating the most awkward situation of all.
The Unhealthy Eaters
I found it hardest to keep up with these folks. They’d slurp at least three glasses of Coke before their appetizer made it to the table. Their double bacon cheeseburger would vanish in no time, causing their hungry eyes to follow my every move until I finally brought them their cheesecake. Wow. I always wondered what would happen if they had a heart attack when walking out the door.
The Birds
Contrary to The Unhealthy Eaters, these people eat a small fraction of what they order. They gleefully nod their head when you ask whether everything tastes alright, but when the entire entrée remains untouched for the remainder of the meal, a server begins to doubt the truth was told. Did I bring them the wrong meal? Was it cold? Did they find a hair and are too embarrassed to tell me? Do they have an eating disorder? Do they even want to be here? Are they talking too much to eat? Is it not what they thought they ordered? Are they aware it’s theirs? Did I bring them silverware? Why would they order something if they weren’t hungry? Should I bring a to-go box?
The Inconveniently Needy
These people made me want to cry. Every time I’d come back to the table, they would need something else. Part of being a server, right? Right. But it was as if they planned it. Hear me out: “Okay! Do you fine folks need anything else right away?” “Yeah. I would like a side of Ranch.” “Okay. I’ll go grab that!” (Grab Ranch, return to the table). “Here you are, sir. Anything else?” Another guest requests some more crackers. “Sure thing! I’ll go grab them!” (Grab crackers, return to the table). “There you go! Anything else?” “Oh yeah. I forgot to ask for extra pickles. Can I get more?” “You bet! I’ll be right back with those!” After running back and forth to the kitchen five times in a row for one table, I learned to stop asking whether they wanted anything else.
The Curious
These people are beyond belief. Before even handing them a menu, they’re firing question after question about what’s on the menu, what it’s like and what I recommend, to which they would respond with an argument about why my recommendation wasn’t worthy. They ask questions that completely depend on personal preference, like “Is it spicy?” or “is that drink really strong?” The Curious aren’t afraid to shoot you down. After all, they’re just asking out of curiosity: “How’s the Veggie and Fruit Salad?” “Pretty decent, if you like fruit, vegetables, and salad,” I’d reply. “Okay. I’ll have the steak with mashed potatoes. Skip the salad. I don’t need any of that junk filling me up.” Even more frustrating was the question about whether we could still make something that used to be on the menu. Okay, given it was on the menu at one time, and no longer is, there’s probably a reason other than to upset our regulars… but let me go see if we have a spare runner-boy back in the kitchen who’s willing to hop over to the store to grab the ingredients it takes to make the no-longer-available menu item for you. Not a problem. Meanwhile, you can sit back, relax, and stare impatiently at me for the next hour and a half while all kitchen employees are in dismay over your order.
The Saviors
Just as I was about to chuck my apron at the hosts for continually seating my section with ogres, they would lead the ideal customer to one of my tables. These people made everything okay. They were grateful, respectful and friendly. Helping me forget that I was at work, The Saviors were an absolute pleasure to serve. Sometimes I felt like I should be tipping them!
I made good money serving, and at times enjoyed it quite a bit. In fact, if it weren’t for most of the above mentioned groups, I’d consider it easy money.
Shootin’ the Wit is a weekly column about everyday life that should never, ever be taken too seriously.
Posted by: Laura Stoneburner on 10.30.2008 at 3:36 PM | Comments (0) | Permalink
Halloween Costume Malfunctions
Are you the type to pour your soul into putting together a decent Halloween costume? Some people spend a ridiculous amount of time and money in attempt to be the biggest hit at Halloween parties. I’m not so into it. Each year, I find myself clad in some awkward outfit, incredibly uncomfortable.
When I was a little tyke, my momma told me I made the perfect witch. Not only because of my personality, but my dark hair fits the part perfectly! Needless to say, I spent every Halloween in my younger years rehearsing the lines: “I’m going to get you my little pretty… and your little dog too!”
Year after year, I’d dig out my black, plastic pointy hat from the bottom of our Halloween box and try to fluff it up. Despite its fading appearance, it suited my needs. Actually, if it had been up to me, I’d have gone without the stupid hat. It would constantly blow off my head, leaving me strides behind my siblings, significantly decreasing my collection of candy.
Unfortunately, the costume got worse. Part of being a witch is having a green face. My mother would smear green goo on my face, which made my face feel like concrete after a few minutes.
Finally, I’d had it. Enough with being a witch! I begged mom to let me be a princess one year. An extreme change, I know, but I was ready! My mother put together a neat little crown made with tag board and crepe paper. I even got to wear a dress!
And then it snowed. The crepe paper coloring bled all over my soggy tag-board crown and my dress. I’m pretty certain I was the ugliest princess running the streets that Halloween.
Naturally, I had another change of heart the next year. It was going to be perfect! Dracula!! I got a black and red cape that I strut around in for weeks prior to Halloween. My mom really came through for me when she purchased me a glow-in-the-dark mouthpiece that year.
Turns out the mouthpiece left me drooling and unable to properly annunciate “Trick-or-treat.” In addition, I took note to how few people turn their lights off on Halloween. There has to be darkness in order to have something light up! Nobody noticed my scary, lit-up mouth. I was one upset Dracula!
Completely frustrated with my lack of luck, I switched my get-up again.
An old man. An old, old man with a walking cane, a beer belly, suspenders, a mesh hat and a rubber mask featuring a wrinkled face with incredibly bushy eyebrows.
Hilarious, I know, until my face was buried in the rubber mask for more than five minutes. My face heated up and started sweating, creating a special “sticky” feeling between the mask and my skin. The moisture brought out the scent of the rubber material – and I was never to be an old man again.
Trying again, I decided to be something more along the lines of... myself! Racket strapped to my back, wrist bands and visor in place, I was a tennis player. There is no way this idea could fail! I didn’t have to buy anything, I didn’t have to wash goo off my face at the end of the evening, and the outfit was extremely comfortable – that is, until I stepped out into the freezing cold in my skirt and sleeveless tank.
Okay... another year, another bad idea.
Trying to make up for the previous year’s mishap, I decided playing the role of a snowboarder would keep me nice n’ toasty! Not quite snowboard season, I didn’t take the time to scrounge up my ski goggles. Easily accessible at the time, my swimming goggles filled the roll. This “costume” required even less effort than the year before! However, I quickly discovered the ‘spooky fog’ surrounding me was really only an effect caused by my swimming goggles. Defrosting them became tiresome. Tucking them into my coat pocket, I looked like an over-aged trick-or-treater with no costume at all.
Ashamed that I had spent so little time on my (lack of) costume the year before, I decided to really break out some creativity. I wore a crown, a bubble-gum colored 80’s-style prom dress, and a sash across my chest that read “Miss Aleneous.” What I thought was obvious, not to mention hilarious, other people didn’t understand. I spent the evening explaining my costume to everyone with a tilted head trying to comprehend what I was going for.
“Miss Aleneous. Missaleneus. Misc-ell-an-eous… GET IT??”
Nope. They didn’t get it.
This year, along with about 60 million other women in the world, I’m going to try for Amy Winehouse. If plastering my arms with fake tattoos and swirling my hair up into a beehive doesn’t give it away, maybe my rendition of “Rehab” will make it clear.
If not, there's always next year.
Happy Halloween, all!
Shootin’ the Wit is a weekly column about everyday life that should never, ever be taken too seriously.
Posted by: Laura Stoneburner on 10.24.2008 at 8:40 AM | Comments (0) | Permalink
Hunting
I’ve never been much of a fan of hunting. Some people wait all year for the season to roll around and spend hundreds of dollars on equipment and licensing only to wait hours, days – even weeks for an animal to cross their path. The activity seems rather passive in my opinion. Then again, I guess you could say I’m passive for passing on the passive activity.
Regardless, as an animal lover, the concept of hunting is difficult for me to think about, let alone see. My heart goes out to the deer strapped to the top of a vehicle. I can’t help but be disgusted by the hooves overhanging the sides of a truck, and as much as I love pictures, can’t stand looking through photos of hunters holding up the head of their dead buck, or, even worse, standing next to a gutted version of the animal. The poor thing!
However, my perception has changed slightly over the last few years. I’m still not a hunter, and probably never will be, but I’m not anti-hunt anymore. One specific event changed my view.
I was cruisin’ (or should I say trudgin’?) home in the good ol’ Geo at a swift pace of nearly 70 mph. A Yukon the size of an ambulance passed me with enough vigor to nearly push me off the road.
As they passed me, I caught a glimpse of a deer in the median. Since coming into contact with anything larger than a ladybug had the ability to total my go-kart of a car, I immediately slowed down, only to see the Yukon smother this deer. The carcass flew up in the air, resembling the motion you might see in outer space. It projected into the darkness above the light that headlights provide. I cringed, half-way expecting the remains to come to rest on the top of the Geo. However, its landing was not visible to me. The Yukon continued to barrel down the interstate. They didn’t swerve an inch. They didn't slow down. In fact, their brake lights never even lit up. Come to think of it, they probably didn’t even realize they had just murdered Bambi. Their vehicle was so large, they could plow through a pack of moose without much of a disturbance.
I, on the other hand, was not okay. Considering the Geo is about as sturdy as an aluminum can, I became afraid to exceed 20 mph. Eyes the size of quarters, lids expanded, I engaged in a continuous effort to seek out Bambi’s friends and family before I became roadkill.
That night, I decided deer hunting was probably a good thing. Without hunting, the population of deer would reach an extreme amount, meaning we’d see even more of them on our highways, dead or alive.
I’m now terrified of driving at night, with the scene of the flying deer constantly running through my mind. In comparison, the images of happy hunters and dead deer suddenly became rather glamorous.
With that being said, go get ‘em hunters!
Shootin’ the Wit is a weekly column about everyday life that should never, ever be taken too seriously.
Posted by: Laura Stoneburner on 10.16.2008 at 11:25 AM | Comments (1) | Permalink
Men vs. Women
Who has it worse? Men or women?
It’s a never ending dilemma. Who has the tougher life and times? This question has long been debated. Call me oblivious, but I have yet to hear an official settlement of this often argued case.
This leaves me wondering… which gender can handle more? Is stronger? Smarter? While plenty of generalizations are about to be made, I’m competitive enough to make an attempt at arguing it out. Here goes!
First of all, a man’s “manliness” is often judged by the things he owns. If he wants to be a macho man, he must own a television bigger than his couch, a huge 4x4 truck with duallies, rims, dual exhaust and a tool box in the back, and at least two toys (an ATV, a gun, snowmobile, motorcycle, sports car, etc.). Oddly enough, women couldn’t care less about these things, but for a guy to prove himself to another male, these items are a firm requirement.
Score: Women 0, Men 1
The pressure to act tough must be stressful. No crying. No pink. No emotion for men. If a male enjoys anything that has a touch of femininity, he is bound to be greeted with a generous dose of static from friends, family, or any other witnesses.
Score: Women 0, Men 2
Women are designed to bear children. The “monthly joy” and everything that comes with it is something men don’t have to deal with and will never understand. Even though the nine months of joy is quite the honor, it’s also a royal pain – literally. Unfortunately, when women are dealing with this, men hear about it, and therefore suffer through it as well. (Sorry guys!) The appropriate amount of points shall be awarded.
Score: Women 3, Men 3
Men have to face all the drama and complaining that comes with women. They must (pretend to) listen to her babble on about her co-worker’s ex-boyfriend and her sister’s dying hamster. He’s often expected to pay and “make the moves.” The decent ones have to worry about opening doors, having the woman go first, treating her right and making sure she’s happy. But the worst thing is, a man messes up and he’s going to hear about it! Chalk one up a for the men patient enough to deal with this nonsense.
Score: Women 3, Men 4
Besides women’s stores, it seems all shirts are made in men’s sizes – not fair, and highly inconvenient. In addition, a man can buy a shirt knowing he will be able to wear it for years and still look stylish, whereas women’s styles are not as stable. Women purchase a shirt knowing it will look trendy for approximately a month.
Score: Women 4, Men 4
Men have the anatomical advantage of being able to urinate practically anywhere. Besides the sidewalk outside of your workplace, men can find a tree and relieve themselves with little to worry about. On the other hand, women need to worry about anyone within a five mile radius who might be able to see. They need to find the perfect spot where they’re surrounded by brush, trees and tall grass, less poison ivy to avoid whistling and hollering men in mid-stream. And even then, they’re lacking the key ingredient to making their journey a complete success: toilet paper.
Score: Women 5, Men 4
Getting a drink at the bar serves as a bigger challenge to men. It seems bartenders are more likely to serve the women first, making the bar scene a little more frustrating for the guys.
Score: Women 5, Men 5
When a man decides he wants to ask a woman to marry him, it can be a several thousand dollar decision taking the ring into account. Women get a really nice gift and a man down on one knee “begging” for her hand… not a bad deal for the gals of the world.
Score: Women 5, Men 6
Shortly after, the woman realizes she has to change her last name. Not only will she have to change her true identity, but she will spend a large chunk of time trying to sort things out with her driver’s license, social security, her job, insurance, the post office…
Score: Women 6, Men 6
Women have constant pressure to look pretty. Any hair other than the hair on the top of a woman’s head is unwelcome. Rolling out of bed and going out in public isn’t normal for a woman. And a beer belly is absolutely disgusting. Conveniently for men, waking up, throwing on a hat and walking out the door is completely acceptable. Don’t feel like shaving? That’s fine too. And a beer gut? Practically expected.
Score: Women 7, Men 6
While having to look beautiful 100% of the time is a stressor on women, it has its impact on men. Some women take a loooonnng time to get ready. When on their own time, fine. However, for every woman who’s taking entirely too long to get ready, a man’s patience is being tested. You know the drill: “Does this make me look fat?” “How does this look?” “Would it look better with this?” “Well, if I use this purse, should I switch my shoes?” Meanwhile, the man continuously repeats himself, “I think you look great!” “I think you look great!” “I THINK YOU LOOK GREAT!!! (Can we go?)” All this hassle to look good. Not for the guy, but for the other girls.
Score: Women 7, Men 7
Nope. That wasn’t a typo. Don’t flatter yourselves, guys! The majority of the time, women aren’t trying to look pretty for you. They need to look nice for the other girls who will be present that evening. Women continuously check out other women. Are they more attractive/more stylish/in better shape? Is their boyfriend cuter, purse newer, hair healthier? When there are a lot of women to evaluate, an evening out can be exhausting!
Score: Women 8, Men 7
Men on the other hand are more often expected to be mechanically adept. It’s basically assumed that men know anything and everything about cars and fixing stuff. They’re taught to fix things as well as change tires and engine oil with ease. Even if they don’t know much on the topic, they probably know more than the majority of women.
Score: Women 8, Men 8
So our debate ends in a draw? No winner to be declared? Impossible! I must be missing something... after all, I’m not perfect. No woman is. At least we admit it.
Score: Women 9, Men 8
Shootin’ the Wit is a weekly column about everyday life that should never, ever be taken too seriously.
Posted by: Laura Stoneburner on 10.10.2008 at 2:44 PM | Comments (0) | Permalink
Closet Emotions
It won’t be long until we start seeing drives for coats, clothing, mittens and hats. These events are a good way for us to clean out what we don’t use and give to those who need it.
It’s amazing how much stuff we collect over the years. And how much of it do we really use? Speaking from personal experience, I have a closet full of hundreds of shirts, tanks and sweatshirts. I’ve got stacks of jeans and pants. Do I need all this? I’d estimate I wear about 20% of it on a regular basis.
Several times, I’ve stood in the entryway of my spacious closet thinking I’ve got to get rid of some of this stuff! However, when I actually take the time to weed through the never-ending piles of clothes, I have just as many excuses as there are articles of clothing.
There is at least one reason to keep everything in my closet. Maybe it’s a girl thing, but I’m thinking others can relate. The following are some of my excuses for letting rarely-used items hang around:
Excuse #1
But it was so expensive!
So you splurged on that one item that you just knew you would absolutely love. Well, turns out, you loved it enough to wear it once, twice if you count the night you had it on and changed. Ooops.
Solution:
Even though you think the item holds value, it really doesn’t if it’s getting no use. Every time you see your had-to-have-but-now-never-use item, you’re going to feel guilty for spending money on something you didn’t use. Instead of continuing to punish yourself, sell it or give it away. Who knows – you could make a friend’s week!
Excuse #2
But it’s in style!
Some of these unflattering clothes may not fit your style – or even your body. However, you see it everywhere, so you try to make it work in effort to stay in the fashion loop. Pressure to be “hip” does funny things to you. You end up purchasing hoop earrings the size of a basketball rim when you actually prefer studs or wearing leggings when you feel more comfortable with something that helps to hide your chunk.
Solution:
Instead of seeking out one-and-done outfits or pursuing fads that come and go as quickly as the seasons, choose items you can wear in a variety of ways, giving them staying power.
Excuse #3
But that’s from Grandpa!
How could you ever get rid of the sweatshirt that has your name and a clarinet embroidered on it? Even though you play the tuba, it was still a nice gift!
Be aware that anytime you’re given a gift from someone you care about, you also inherit a sense of obligation to that item, forcing you to keep it in memory of the giver. Whether or not you wear (or even like) the item, you’ll keep it because you like who it’s from.
Solution:
It’s sometimes difficult to differentiate between love of the item and love of the giver. You need to realize that “letting go” of their gift doesn’t mean you’re letting go of them. Keep a few of your favorites, and give the rest to a good home.
Excuse #4
But I’ll probably wear it again someday… maybe.
You wouldn’t miss it if it were gone. You haven’t worn it for years! But just when you’re about to toss the item out, you start thinking of how cute it actually is. Your mind races for a reason why you’d be getting rid of this item… it’s not that bad! However, time has proven the chances of you wearing it again is about as likely as a calm day in Fargo. It hangs in front of you every morning and goes untouched, season after season, just taking up closet space.
Solution:
Just face it, these items will never see the light of day unless you take them out of your closet … either by wearing them, or giving them away. Our clinging behaviors make cleaning out our closets difficult. Instead of simply boxing stuff up and donating it to a drive or a thrift store, we hold an emotional ceremony and make a mental list of reasons to keep each item.
If you’re due for a closet cleaning, try not to let emotional significance get the best of you! Remember the goal isn’t to toss out everything in your closet; just try to understand why you’re hung up on what’s hanging. If the reason isn’t good enough, free up some closet space and move on!
Shootin’ the Wit is a weekly column about everyday life that should never, ever be taken too seriously.
Posted by: Laura Stoneburner on 10.03.2008 at 12:34 PM | Comments (0) | Permalink
Addictions
When is the last time you were really, truly attached to something? Was it your baby blankie? A teddy bear? You are probably attached to more than you may realize. Healthy or not, we all have addictions, habits... something you can't imagine living without. For example, have you ever left home without your phone? "OH NO! I forgot my cell phone! How will I ever make it through the day without it?!" Believe it or not, in the olden days, the closest thing to a cell phone was a cordless phone, which was comparable to the size of a large box of tissues. But now, cell phones are basically a necessity. How long do you think you could live without it? Do you remember your home phone number? You could be attached to another person. Think back to a breakup you experienced. Do you remember the emptiness you felt after "losing" a person with whom you shared a portion of your life with? Granted, there's a reason you're not spending time with them anymore (they were annoying, irresponsible, anti-social, a liar, not enough fun, a jerk, selfish, etc.), but you still felt lonely when they weren't there. Several people have the unfortunate addiction to caffeine or nicotine. Others "need" things such as chapstick on a regular basis. In fact, I, along with many female friends, feel chapstick is a basic necessity. Food, water, chapstick, oxygen... You have to have it! How about your vehicle? You want to talk about attachment? Dedicated Shootin' the Wit readers may recall my (sometimes ridiculous) attachment to the Geo. Experiencing the sudden loss of something that's a part of your life for several years is devastating! How would you possibly manage without a vehicle for a week? Walk? Bike? Well, when the snow is flying and the ground is covered in ice, I recommend friends. Really good friends with cars more dependable than your own. I'm sure we've all had the misfortune of having a friend move out of town. Ya miss 'em! They once were there, at your side making you laugh so hard your throat would burn. They were the first to volunteer to accompany you at your ex's wedding because you couldn't find a "real" date. Now, they're hundreds of miles away, and you need to adjust to their absence. For athletes, experiencing an injury is often more depressing than painful. The thought of not picking up the ol' ball-n-glove for a year or so is really, really sad! You didnt think about it when you had it, did you? Last, being a pet owner can be one of the most pleasurable inconveniences in your life. Your dog might be a pain in the rear on a regular basis, but hes also your companion who you learn to love, train, and watch grow. Losing a pet is really difficult - especially one that has been at your feet for several years. You forget all the messes they made, the things they broke and the money their weird paw thing cost you, and remember the excitement they showed every time they'd see you. We take so many things for granted. We feel the people in our lives will always be here. We hope to always contain the abilities, talents, resources, people, and the mindset to do what we want and have what we need. However, you never know when something may be taken away from you, so appreciate what you have while you have it! Shootin' the Wit is a weekly column about everyday life that should never, ever be taken too seriously.
Posted by: Laura Stoneburner on 9.26.2008 at 2:47 PM | Comments (0) | Permalink
Who comes up with this stuff?
Studies show that the average household holds more televisions than people. According to Nielson Media research, in the average home a television set is turned on for more than a third of the day - eight hours, 14 minutes. The average person watches between four and five hours of television every day!
These numbers are quite shocking to me. I find myself wondering what shows are being watched. Are there quality shows that I am not aware of? The majority of what I see on television is so annoying that I cannot imagine becoming a regular viewer of certain programs. Let me provide a couple examples.
Deal or No Deal
Everyone probably knows the premise by now - 26 beautiful models each holding a case and each case contains separate bundles of money, ranging from a penny to one million dollars. Each contestant chooses one case, then during a progression of "rounds" they are allowed to choose from the remaining cases, on the off-chance that the highest amount of money was in their case chosen at the beginning. Between these rounds, the Banker methodically creates an offer and the contestant is allowed to choose between the contents of his or her own case, and the unknown sum in one of the other cases. So what is so annoying about this?
First, when the contestant picks a case to be opened and the audience and at-home viewers are anxiously awaiting the dollar amount to be revealed, the model chosen to open her case always takes a glance inside the case before opening it for the rest of the world to see. She then gives the audience a face. I'm guessing it's supposed to help build the excitement - in my opinion, it only serves to annoy everyone viewing this pointless show.
Second, part of the studio audience is made up of the contestants family members and/or close friends, who never ever advise the contestant to just take the deal. They do an excellent job of finding the greediest of the greedy to participate in this show. Contestants are always quick to turn down ridiculous sums of money for the chance at winning more. When this happens, I am watching in hopes that they open the cases with the largest amounts of money and their case holds the penny.
Wheel of Fortune
This show has been around for years and surely we all know what happens. Three contestants compete on each episode and are allowed to solve phrases by guessing one letter at a time. They accumulate cash and prizes with the turn of a gigantic wheel containing various dollar amounts and prizes. For many years, I enjoyed watching this show. But lately I cannot get over several annoying things that happen in nearly every episode.
First, as the contestants are introduced, they all say a little bit about themselves, their families and their hobbies. It never ceases to amaze me at how perfect they make their lives sound. You always hear that they are married to their "amazing" wife or "wonderful" husband and have "incredible" children. I find myself wondering whether their lives are really that great.
Then, in nearly every episode there is an annoying contestant who feels the need to boisterously shout the letter ten times louder than necessary. And they enunciate it so perfectly, as if they think Vanna will magically make more of that letter appear in the phrase if they articulate the letter. When a player with this style appears on the show, I find it hard to watch them guess more than one or two letters before desperately reaching for the remote to watch something else anything else!
Greatest American Dog
This is a fairly new show that involves a number of dog owners competing with their dog to win the title of "Greatest American Dog." There are weekly challenges and a panel of three judges. Each episode tests a quality of the animal, such as courage or intelligence. The grand prize for the winning dog and his/her master is $250,000. Like many human reality shows, "Greatest American Dog" requires the participants (the owners and their pawed friends) to live together during the competition.
Who comes up with a show like this? Now don't get me wrong, I love animals - especially dogs. But I cannot imagine going to an audition with my dog in hopes that my dog can win the title of "Greatest American Dog."
The Bachelor/The Bachelorette
This show stars one man or woman who barely has the chance to get to know 25 prospects for a spouse. After about five dates with each person, they are supposedly ready to make their decision on who their future husband or wife will be. I can only hope that this is not for real. These people have to be either acting or absolutely crazy. With millions of viewers, you are pressured to choose "the one" out of these 25 (desperate) people? When the man or woman ends up choosing their future spouse, they don't actually get married do they?
Rock of Love
Similar to The Bachelor, Rock of Love - featuring Bret Michaels, lead singer from Poison - has 25 women competing for Mr. Michael's heart. Where do they find 25 willing women to compete for this man? You'd think this show would have been a one-time deal, but since the first two ladies didn't work out for Bret, the third season is scheduled for 2009. Hmmm... maybe Mr. Michaels needs to step it up a bit.
Everybody obviously has his or her own opinion on what shows are good or not so good. I must admit, since some of these shows are borderline painful to watch, I have a tough time watching more than about four or five minutes of certain ones. And there are people who watch four or five hours of this?
I could see how this would be possible when the Olympics are on. I can see why this would have been reasonable when there were good shows, like Friends, Seinfeld, and my all-time favorite, The Wonder Years. But with these greed-filled, trashy shows, I'd rather spend my time doing anything other than camping out on the couch and absorbing this garbage.
Shootin' the Wit is a weekly column about everyday life that should never, ever be taken too seriously.
Posted by: Laura Stoneburner on 9.19.2008 at 1:30 PM | Comments (0) | Permalink
Run Run Run!
I had the opportunity to watch my sister participate in the Dick Beardsley half marathon last weekend in Detroit Lakes. In line to register, hundreds of other runners swarmed around us, which got me to thinking of what a crazy notion the entire marathon "thing" really is.
People train for months to run these races. They spend hours at the gym, running on treadmills, and jogging through their neighborhood streets. Finally, their bodies are as prepared as they're going to get for taking on the challenge. They gather together with hundreds, sometimes thousands, of other enthusiasts - all who pay a fee to run numerous miles on a street together.
Running just over 26 miles at one time is obviously an amazing accomplishment - a result of sheer dedication. However, no matter how you look at it, you must admit the entire concept is outrageous.
Maybe I'm not quite "up to speed" on the issue, but to me, a marathon is something that should be done once, maybe twice, in a person's life. However, there are people that run several per year! For example, a man by the name of Chuck Engle, also known as "the Marathon Junkie," once set a goal to run 50 marathons in a year - all in under three hours. He accomplished his goal in 2006, running just short of one marathon per week! And here I was thinking running the equivalent of a marathon in the span of a week was impressive... not so much!
Engle isn't the only running addict - does the name Rick Wagar ring a bell? This man literally ran 74 miles from Grand Forks to the Fargodome the morning of the Fargo Marathon, and continued to run the route, completing the marathon in just under six hours. Running for 25 hours straight, Wagar ran a total of 100 miles that day. As bizarre as this sounds, there was reason behind his madness. He wanted to gain the attention of at least one person who, upon seeing what he accomplished, would pick up running for themselves. Whatta guy!
Recently reading an article about a woman who ran wherever she went, I couldn't help but think of this lady's poor friends! I know if I ran wherever I went, I'd probably get less invites to do& anything! Nobody wants to hang out with Sweaty Betty, do they? But this woman plans her life around running wherever she goes.
Another runner, Dean Karnazes, also known as "Ultramarathon man," ran 50 marathons in 50 consecutive days. After he finished his 50th, he decided to run home to San Francisco from his last marathon in New York. Instead, he chose to end his trek in Missouri to spend time with his family. Sounds like a road trip to me - not a running course!
Some of us always have and always will see it as crazy, but these races give runners a goal to work towards. Even if it is paying just to run on a road, there is a sense of accomplishment. Even though runners are given a cool shirt and a gigantic medal to gaze at for years to come, those items don't mean as much as running the race - crazy or not.
Shootin' the Wit is a weekly column about everyday life that should never, ever be taken too seriously.
Posted by: Laura Stoneburner on 9.15.2008 at 8:11 AM | Comments (1) | Permalink
Are YOU tacky?
There are all kinds of rules to being classy. Since it might get a little complicated to keep all the guidelines straight and constantly keep an eye on yourself, it may be easier to simply avoid tackiness.
We all fall into the tacky category in some department. Hopefully it's not often enough that others think you're always frumpish. However, bad taste is easily illustrated by a person's actions, words, or appearance.
While some people are obviously out to impress nobody, others strive to avoid even a touch of tackiness. For the non-tacky strivers, a few things should be avoided. Take a look at the following circumstances guaranteed to demonstrate a persons inelegance:
WEARING YOUR PHONE
Generally males are the violators of this tackiness. Honestly, the only thing worse than wearing your phone on your belt is wearing two phones on your belt. Oddly enough, the phone-wearer often has a good chance at appearing classy: well dressed, clean cut, nice shoes, fancy watch... but the cell phone belt quickly cancels out all the good.
CLIPPING IN PUBLIC
Looking for a good way to gross out everyone within earshot? Dig out the nail clipper and start trimming! Clipping your nails is something to do in the privacy of your own home, in an area where other people dont discover your 'clippings' on their furniture.
CORRECTION FLUID
You get bumped while addressing an envelope. You notice a typo just before dropping your letter in the mail. You somehow managed to muff up the only card/form/application/envelope/note you have on hand. Shoot! Now what?
Correction liquid, complete with a miniature brush, was invented to help people in the typewriter era. Even though we now have the technology to edit letters without re-typing the entire document, we no longer have an excuse to even own these little 'mistake-hider' bottles. Avoid painting your mistakes and writing over them - it's tackier than scribbling.
SOCKS-N-SANDALS
The purpose of sandals is to free your feet from containment. Air out those bad boys! The healthy portion of 'sockers' roaming about the Midwest doesn't make this fashion hazard less tacky. If you're a 'socker,' good news! You may not be the tackiest of the tacky, unless you're wearing a pair of holey socks. Your shabby socks should be burned, not worn with your favorite sandals.
BODILY FUNCTIONS
If you're not going to shower, at least make it look and smell like you do. Bad breath, body odor and greasy hair have got to be eliminated. If you have gunk between your teeth, try using floss - works like a charm. Spitting, belching or loudly passing gas in public and laughing about it - pretty tacky, not to mention inappropriate, immature and disgusting. And please, if you're going to pick your nose in your vehicle, remember people can see in just as easily as you can see out.
THE FREE SHOW
Not saying getting paid for it would be any classier, but revealing clothes can look pretty tacky, especially when constant adjustments are needed. For ladies, this would include see-through, short, or low-cut shirts similar to what Julia Roberts wore in Erin Brocovich, jeans so low they show your undies when you sit down, and skirts that barely come to the bottom of your bum. The tacky list for men would include the unbuttoned shirts revealing chest hair and jeans that give the world an (unwanted) half-moon when you bend down.
PRYING QUESTIONS
Examples: Buying me lunch today? How much do you make? Are you guys ever going to have kids?
Whether intended as a joke or to cure your curiosity, these questions are tacky, if not rude.
These are just a few of the thousands of tacky things we witness every day. If you found nothing wrong with any of the things listed, you may want to take a lesson or two in etiquette. If you completely agree, then great! Stay classy.
Shootin' the Wit is a weekly column about everyday life that should never, ever be taken too seriously.
Posted by: Laura Stoneburner on 9.05.2008 at 2:10 PM | Comments (3) | Permalink
RedHawks Entertainment
The RedHawks have wrapped up another season. I attended more games this summer than any other year residing in Fargo - cause for picking up on a few comical things about the crowd. The fans that show up to these games are hilarious! In all seriousness, even if you arent a baseball fanatic, it is basically impossible not to have a good time at these games.
As any RedHawks fan knows, there are contests and activities planned between each inning - and entertaining they are! Some of these contests are for kids, while other games are designated for the adult fans. Observing these activities, you find the intentions of the "youngins" differ greatly from the "oldies."
The kids participate in a game where they must run down the first base line, dress themselves in an adult RedHawks uniform and throw a ball while clad in the over-sized getup. 
Kids make it count. Putting the pants on, they stand stationary, trying to pull eight feet of slack up their leg in order to get their foot through the hole and keep it there. Some kids start buttoning their jersey, concentrating hard on what buttons go in what holes. Meanwhile, Hawkeye gets impatient and starts rushing them along. Eventually, one of them totters to the ball and tosses it to win the prize.
Watching them is amusing because bending the rules doesn't cross their young, innocent minds. They don't want to cut corners. They're legit!
Watching the adult activities, you quickly find the new level of competition leaves no room for innocence.
In one activity, adults need to roll an inner tube down the third base line, hula hoop and then roll the inner tube back to the start. There, they pick up a suitcase and need to pack up the clothes spread on the ground on the way to the finish line.
First, instead of rolling the tube, they pick it up and sprint with it, turning it in effort to make their outright cheating less obvious to the audience - thousands of RedHawks enthusiasts. Hula hoop? Right. Using their arms, they eventually get the hoop around their hips the required amount of times, and they're off to cheat their way back with the inner tube. "Packing" their suitcase consists of picking up the case and shoveling the clothes in so its easier to carry as they run for (and literally fall across) the finish line. The clothes hang out and they nearly lose it all as they sprint to the finish.
Perhaps in this instance we can learn a lesson from the youngsters. As you get older you find that shortcuts are necessary, time is precious and you have a "to do" list longer than a roll of toilet paper. Maybe it's time to appreciate the little details and put forth your best effort at doing something the right way.
Shootin' the Wit is a weekly column about everyday life that should never, ever be taken too seriously.
Posted by: Laura Stoneburner on 8.29.2008 at 12:48 PM | Comments (0) | Permalink
Collect on, collectors!
Do you remember forming a collection when you were a kid? Do you still have your collected treasures? Have you ever really thought about why you're collecting what you collect?
Doing a little research, we find some of the most popular items collected: baseball cards, coins, dolls, seashells, knives, antiques, key chains, stamps, fossils and model cars. Some of the more "odd" items included fragments from accident sites, bugs, fingernails and hair.
Just imagine: "Hey guys! Come check out my fingernail collection!" Gross!
Hair or cars -- the whole thing is a little off. Why do people invest so much time and money in something in which other people would pay not to have? Here are five likely reasons:
1. Boredom. The person seeks a hobby on which they can spend as much time as they desire.
2. Investing. It's going to be worth something someday, right?
3. History. Something to remember the past by.
4. They had two of something and decided to keep going with it.
5. To fulfill their "pack rat" needs. Their mobility may be limited due to the clutter, but hoarding has become a compulsive need.
As a kid, I collected pencils -- the No. 2, fun, decorative, need-a-pencil-sharpener-every-three-words pencils. There were two requirements to make it into my collection. First, the pencil had to be colored, glittery or have something fun on it -- no plain orange ones allowed. Second, used pencils were not allowed -- the pencil had to be unsharpened.
Now my bucket filled with over 100 girly, unused pencils has gathered a rather extensive collection itself -- dust. I haven't touched my pail o' pencils for at least six years. If I made practical use of it, I would never again have to purchase another writing utensil. Too bad I now hate pencils.
So what happens when you decide you no longer want to spend time searching eBay for dead spiders and eraser dust? How will you rid yourself of the 230 teddy bears occupying your bedroom closet?
Donate it? Stash it away to show your kids or grandchildren some day? Give your collection, one piece at a time, as birthday and Christmas gifts for the next ten years?
You could sell it to another collector, but that doesn't seem like much fun for them. One purchase and they would instantly have an extensive collection. Where's the fun in that? After all, the majority of the fun comes from the thrill of the chase -- seeking out and setting aside the different things that meet your criteria to qualify for the collection, right?
Then again, you could view selling or donating your collected goods as a "passing of the torch." Think about it -- by "passing the torch" to another collector, the collection will continue to be, well... collected!
Since collecting is such a unique hobby, maybe you shouldn't worry about what you're going to do with all the "stuff" you've accumulated. Surely, there will come a time when you need to "collect your thoughts" on the collection's purpose, but until then, "collect on," collective collectors!
Shootin' the Wit is a weekly column about everyday life that should never, ever be taken too seriously.
Posted by: Laura Stoneburner on 8.22.2008 at 4:45 PM | Comments (0) | Permalink
Wine
What's your beverage of choice? Does it depend on the situation? The week you've had? Your mood? The company? Or maybe you're a diehard who doesn't consider "changing it up" an option.
On occasion, I get the craving for a glass or two of wine. I've narrowed down the different types and - to an extent - have determined what kinds I like and don't like. You might say Im a connoisseur in the making. But brands and flavors of wine is not what I wish to talk about. I would like to discuss how circumstances change depending on the beverage in hand.
Picture this:
You've just completed a rather stressful week at work and are now out with a few friends. You order a few bottles of wine. You take a sniff before you sip it, completely unaware that you're being studied. Before you even have a chance to fully enjoy the aroma, the Wine Police strike! You're told that "you're supposed to swirl it."
Well then! Sorrrry! Okay, so you're "supposed" to swirl it. But what if you don't want to? Is that okay? What if you're klutzy and are wearing white? Can you skip the swirl stage?
Picture this:
You enjoy red wine, but a friend has chosen a white. Fine. (You'll drink anything, right?) You enjoy holding your goblet a certain way and do not wish to change that based on what is in the glass. You cradle the goblet in your hand instead of holding the glass by the stem with your fingertips like you're "supposed" to do. "It's going to get warm!" Your friend warns you, and demonstrates how the glass is to be held. So much for being able to relax and enjoy!
Youll never hear your beer friends ask you to release the bear-claw death grip you have on your mug of beer. You might catch a little static if you're "nursing" it or you are clumsy enough to spill the liquid gold, but it's no skin off their nose if they find you pounding a few in your own style after a rough week.
I've only been drinking wine for about a year, but I'll never understand why people are suddenly entitled to get on your case just because you're holding wine rather than beer. How annoying!
Besides people telling you how to drink your drink, do you realize how many "rules" are associated with this beverage? How to hold your glass. How to have your first taste. How to order it in a restaurant. How long it should be refrigerated before served. How and when to swirl it. How full to fill the glass. And of course, what kind of glass should be used. Sure, for the most part there is some logic behind each rule, but do the rules really need to be enforced? Let's face it: rules can take the fun out of anything - even drinking. And all you wanted was to enjoy a drink and relax, right?
Well, congratulations, wine drinker, you now have four hundred other things to worry about. And if you do it wrong and a veteran wine drinker is present, they're not going to cut you any slack! This explains why (if you're inexperienced) it may be most enjoyable to drink your wine alone - in the privacy of your own home.
Shootin' the Wit is a weekly column about everyday life that should never, ever be taken too seriously.
Posted by: Laura Stoneburner on 8.15.2008 at 4:20 PM | Comments (0) | Permalink
Being green requires very little energy
As a bridesmaid in a friend's wedding, I was given a gift which I was unsure of what to do with. It's not just any bag. This large, tan bag with hot pink stripes and straps has my name embroidered on the side.
It didn't take long to find its purpose in my life. I utilized it for a carry-on for a few vacations. It makes an excellent beach bag, and it's perfect for throwing all my "stuff" in and hauling it to work every day. However, its peak performance comes into play when I hit up the grocery store. This bag can easily cart around my weekly food intake. My bread might end up a little smashed, but I feel good about sparing 12 plastic sacks for the plastic addict next in line. It's easier to carry too!
Unless your head is so polluted with other things going on in the world, you've probably heard about the latest "bag craze." Emails are being forwarded showing the negative impact plastic bags are having on our planet. Stores are selling (or at times giving away) mesh, reusable bags for groceries. Some stores even toss you a few pennies for bringing in a reusable sack. Slowly but surely, plastic-users are catching on, and what a beautiful sight it is. It looks better than our landfills -- that's for certain!
Dork, you might be thinking. Who brings their own bag with their name embroidered on the side to a grocery store?
(Side note: If you're just coming to the conclusion I'm a dork, you need to read my column more often.)
Seriously though, who cares if you look like a dork when you're out shopping? What are you trying to do -- date the cashier? (If so, try embroidering your phone number under your name).
You could skip the personalized bag idea and simply keep a bag of bags in your trunk for the next time you swing in to a store. Carry a handful in with you and use them again. And again. And again. When they're stretched out and the handles are broken, recycle them!
Which brings me to my next dorky confession. I recycle. And I'm dumbfounded by how many people use "inconvenience" as an excuse to toss plastic bottle after plastic bottle in their garbage can.
Most people complain about not being supplied with bins to separate recyclables or not having curbside pickup in their area. The city won't come up to their door, knock and ask if they can search your living quarters for any recyclables they can take off your hands. (Those unaccommodating jerks!) Therefore, recycling is an inconvenience, and not worth doing. If they don't care to implement a decent recycling program, why should I put forth the effort to do it all by myself? Hmm... do I sense a bit of stubbornness?
Okay, so Fargo doesn't have a five-star recycling program, but the recycling receptacles are in grocery store parking lots. How is that inconvenient? You don't even need to make a special trip! Just load it up, drop it off, get your groceries and you're on your way. This takes an extra five minutes a week and, if everybody got involved, it would make a huge difference.
Making a difference is important because -- believe it or not -- more people are going to inhabit the earth after you bite the dust and they probably don't want to live in the pile of trash you've generated.
Nobody is going to ask you why you're dropping off eight pounds of sardine and tuna cans. Nobody is going to search for juicy details in the pages of the journal you're recycling. And there isn't a soul in Fargo who will blame you for recycling all your beer cans and bottles from your big bash last weekend. Some people might dumpster dive to get their grimy hands on your Playboy, but rest assured -- it's at least being reused!
I encourage you to take an extra step to recycle or reuse something this week instead of adding it to the pile.
Shootin' the Wit is a weekly column about everyday life that should never, ever be taken too seriously.
Posted by: Laura Stoneburner on 8.08.2008 at 11:18 AM | Comments (1) | Permalink
Brain Freeze
Smoothies, malts, shakes, slurpees, push-ups, or slushies - it doesn't matter. They're all delicious and awfully refreshing, especially on a hot day.
But how can chugging such a good thing give you complete delight one moment and take a turn toward intense forehead pain the next? For the next minute, you're scrunching up your face in absolute agony - moaning, squeezing the bridge of your nose, and smacking your forehead with an open hand. Ahh, yes -- the dreadful ice cream headache -- there to remind you that your rapid gulping is a tad extreme. Slllloooow down, Bucko!
This excruciating pain is obviously caused by the intake of a cold concoction. Unfortunately, eliminating the consumption of cold treats is not an option! Therefore, I became determined to discover the secrets behind brain freeze in hopes to avoid ever experiencing it again.
Read on, fellow ice cream devotees -- these facts are for you!
* First of all, the scientific explanation: These headaches have been studied as an example of 'referred pain' - an unpleasant sensation localized to an area separate from the site of the painful stimulation. When the cold object touches the roof of your mouth, the blood vessels contract to prevent loss of body heat. As the coldness recedes, the blood vessels relax, quickly increasing blood flow to the brain. This sudden release is what causes the intense headache sensation.
* As we already know, the pain is brought on by high-speed ingestion and peaks after about 20 seconds. Though it feels like four hours, the entire headache generally doesn't last longer than about one minute.
* Frozen yogurt, since it's generally more 'liquid' than traditional ice-cream at lower temperatures, will trigger brain freeze easier than dairy ice-cream, cold drinks or ice.
* The headache is supposedly only elicited in hot weather. This was news to me. I guess when I'm enjoying ice cream in the winter, the last thing I'm thinking is why am I not experiencing an ice cream headache right now? It sure has been a while!
Continuing my research, I was hoping to find some type of information on prevention or treatment of brain freeze. My hopes escalated as I began reading the following statement about the "treatment" of ice cream headaches:
"No treatment is usually required, and sufferers rarely seek medical attention. Since the palate is most likely to produce pain, avoiding contact of the cold food with this area can effectively eliminate the symptoms. Most people arrive at such preventive measures without the advice of doctors."
That helpful information was taken (for free!) from howstuffworks.com. You get what you pay for.
Hmm... looking further, I found these helpful hints to help reduce the pain next time you sense an oncoming freeze:
* Let the bite or sip warm on your tongue before you let the substance touch the roof of your mouth. l Warm the roof of your mouth after it's already been cooled. If you do this soon enough, you may be able to ease the surge of blood flow to your brain. Use the bottom of your tongue, as is likely warmer than the top side, which was probably cooled by the beverage you just guzzled.
* Drink a warm substance. Slowly sipping room temperature water might even do the trick.
* If youre fine with public humiliation, make a mask with your hands to cover your mouth and nose. Breathe quickly, raising the temperature inside your mouth... classy, I know.
* Equally as graceful, victims of an ice cream headache can try to press a warm thumb against their palate.
* For the more passive: wait it out. The brain freeze will pass on its own. While you're in pain, try to see if you can endure the entire ice cream headache without making any awkward facial expressions or touching your face.
You probably won't savor this information as much as your frigid treat, but it might come in handy next time you just cant help but swiftly gulp it down.
As for what works best, I haven't yet tested them. Since brain freeze has never proven to be fatal, I plan to test each of the proposed solutions before winter rolls around.
Shootin' the Wit is a weekly column about everyday life that should never, ever be taken too seriously.
Posted by: Laura Stoneburner on 8.04.2008 at 8:20 AM | Comments (0) | Permalink
Kinda Chunky
I recently watched Super Size Me. I know - the movie came out about four years ago, but in case you missed last week's Shootin' the Wit, I'm a little behind times. Please excuse my tardiness.
For those who haven't yet seen it, this documentary by Morgan Spurlock demonstrates the physical and psychological effect fast food has on a person's body.
Spurlock set a few goals for himself: every meal he ate for 30 days straight had to be from the fast food restaurant, and he had to eat three meals a day. He had to try every item on the menu at least once, and he couldn't consume anything that the restaurant did not sell. He also required himself to "super size" his meal every time he was asked. After 30 days, Spurlock had porked on 25 pounds - a 13% body mass increase - and his BMI rose from 23.2 (healthy) to 27 (overweight). It took him over a year to lose the weight he gained in one month.
The film portrays the fast food industry's influence on people today and tells of alarming statistics on obesity. In case you haven't taken a look around lately, obesity rates are getting... akhem... "bigger".
Soon after viewing the film, I read the latest news about children as young as eight years old being given cholesterol-fighting drugs to avoid future heart problems.
EIGHT? Whoa! Really?
Why aren't we teaching these kids to put down the Pepsi before picking up the Lipitor?
I distinctly remember my father pulling me aside when I was about eight years old and telling me I "wasn't like my siblings," who were all very thin and fit. He told me to picture a kid at school who was "a little bigger" and asked if I wanted to turn out like them. "No," I replied, absolutely humiliated and even more terrified. He encouraged me to stop eating three bowls of ice cream and a pound of taffy every day.
He also urged me to pick a few sports to participate in, which I was more than happy to do. He scolded me on the rare occasion that I would be found flopped on the couch like a dead fish watching television, and I knew better than to be playing Nintendo around the time he came home from work. Nearly every weekend during the winter (unless we had some type of sacred plans), our entire family was out cutting, splitting, and hauling wood through three feet of snow. All day! Sitting at home was not an option. You might say I was whipped into shape.
Harsh? Yes. Helpful? YES! While Dad's "warning" stung a little, and as much as I wanted to be lazy, I'm extremely thankful now.
So why aren't more parents doing this? Instead, parents literally sit back, relax, and watch as their children follow in their own unhealthy footsteps. They grow bigger around the belly together, eat healthy proportions of the wrong kind of foods together, avoid exercise together, and therefore show signs of serious health problems.
Children's doctors recommend children get at least an hour of physical activity a day - which doesn't include finger movement required to play a computer game or sweeping the potato chip crumbs off their lap.
It's not exactly easy to make healthy decisions. Look at your typical fast food menu - salads are $5-$6, and a double cheeseburger is a buck. The average cost per month for a gym membership is approximately $40, depending on your age and/or status. Sadly, we live in a society where healthy decisions actually cost you!
On the contrary, the Blue Cross Blue Shield of Minnesota's "do" campaign gives the perfect illustration for what we should be... well, doing! You don't have to spend $40 a month to run on your gym's treadmill... take the stairs! Work in your garden. Canoe. Walk. Bike. Do. Something. Now! And not just today. Every day!
It's about time pharmaceutical companies take a break and let Americans pick up their own slack. We need to make major adjustments in our lifestyles to reverse this "fattening" trend we've begun to set. We've allowed obesity to become so common that airlines have acknowledged and discussed what they can do about their 'wider' customers. Charge more? Make bigger seats?
As they said in Super Size Me, you're okay to tell someone they're foolish for smoking, because everyone knows it's not healthy. Yet it's not (yet) okay to approach and criticize someone for being overweight, even though they're causing just as much strain on their body. You could start the trend, but watch yourself! If you're picking on them for their weight, I'm guessing they're bigger than you.
Shootin' the Wit is a weekly column about everyday life that should never, ever be taken too seriously.
Posted by: Laura Stoneburner on 7.25.2008 at 11:08 AM | Comments (2) | Permalink
Dragging Behind
Do you ever feel like you're falling behind? In what area of your life? Financially? Socially? At work? With school?
I've seriously fallen behind in the technological world - so far behind that people are lapping me. As a kid, I was just beginning to enjoy my new portable cassette player about the time all the 'cool kids' were carrying around their portable CD players. I purchased my first DVD/VHS combo player at the time most people had an extensive collection of DVDs. I still own more movies on VHS than on DVD.
While most people this day in age turn to their computers for music, I turn on the ol' CD player, as I don't own a computer. I'm starting to get used to the decorative 'bunny-ear' antennae propped up my not-so-flat-screen T.V. Actually, I'm not sure I'd even own a T.V. had it not been won at my senior prom. I'm unfamiliar with how an ATM operates, as I don't possess a debit card. With these continual technological advances, I have royally failed to keep up with it all.
It's not that technology is beyond me - generally I can figure it out: When people say they played tennis 'on the Wii,' I'm aware this isn't their lingo for playing doubles in tennis. Unlike my parents, I understand that a 'BlackBerry' doesn't fall under the same category as a 'raspberry.' However, if it did, I'd be much more likely to buy it.
Here's the thing: I don't care. I'm happy stubbornly remaining in the Stone Age. I'm fine with being referred to as 'Cave Woman'. What is upsetting about the situation is that I can only drag so far behind before I'm forced to do a little catching up.
My handy-dandy, painfully annoying cell phone is a perfect example. Do I want one with all the bells and whistles? No. In fact, I'd be happy without one at all! But this world has literally forced me into it. Anyway, I'm on my second phone, and when you're looking for something simple when phone shopping, it's impossible. Did I want a phone with an MP3 player? No. Do I have it? Yes. Did I need a phone that supposedly has faster internet capability? No. Do I have it? Yes. Do I need a camera on my phone? No. Do I have it? Yes. Do I need the mobile video option? No. Do I have it? Yes.
The battery on my phone is sure to begin deteriorating sometime in the next year. Once the phone starts dying ten minutes after being fully charged, I'll start searching for my next constraining device.
When this misfortune approaches, I can already sense the dilemma: I don't want a touch screen. I don't need a full keyboard and I see no purpose in owning a phone that opens eight different ways.
So what are my options? Well, I guarantee that I won't be able to pick out a phone without upgrading to one that offers me more features than I need or want. Maybe I'll just keep it simple and look around for a rotary phone. Any idea where I could find one?
Shootin' the Wit is a weekly column about everyday life that should never, ever be taken too seriously.
Posted by: Laura Stoneburner on 7.18.2008 at 1:04 PM | Comments (1) | Permalink
Donating Blood
Are you a hero? We all have different takes on giving blood. Some people nearly faint at the thought of it while others are earnest about donating every eight weeks.
Recently facing a fear of mine, I signed up to donate. After a rather pleasant first experience, I decided to become a regular blood donor.
My second donation didn't go as smoothly. As the last appointment of the day, it appeared as if this nurse was happy to be finishing up her first day on the job. Rather disorganized, how she conducted the interview made me a little skittish. "Oops! Forgot my gloves." "Hmm... now where did I put that form?" "Gosh, I don't know about that, I better look it up." She seemed a little 'flighty' and rather inexperienced.
Answering the absurd questions, Iwas hopeful that this nurse's involvement in my donation would end after the interview. This woman couldn't possibly be qualified to poke a needle in my arm, could she?
The stars were not in my favor. A poke would have been choice. Unfortunately, I got more of a 'stab.' This nurse seemed to have thought a 'running start' was a good idea. She jabbed the needle into my arm, and immediately called to another nurse for help. "Can you come look at this?"
Can you come look at this?!? I thought, half expecting to pass out and die at that very moment. This metal tool in my arm is feeling rather uncomfortable, and now we are waiting for another nurse to come take a gander?
The other nurse wiggled the needle around, which felt excellent, and eventually got blood to come out. Just as the pain was becoming bearable, the helping nurse informed me that Space Cadet had bruised my arm and it would be best to draw from my other arm. Excellent. At this point, I was ready to fend off both nurses with my empty blood bag and run for the door.
Instead, I remained in the chair. I must have been a bit delirious, because I actually agreed to let the more experienced nurse tap into my second arm. The second attempt was again, much more painful than my first time donating, bringing on a new level of appreciation for the sweetheart who helped me through my first blood donation.
While my blood was being pumped out, the nurse abandoned me. Apparently I had nothing to worry about, as I had at least five different nurses randomly walk by and push buttons on my monitor without saying a word. Yep -- nothing to worry about.
I was extremely relieved to be done. I made sure to stock up on refreshments as payment for the pain they caused me. They lent me a fine point Sharpie for the Sudoku I planned to complete during my donation. Since I couldn't bend either arm, I didn't finish the puzzle. I didn't give the Sharpie back either. You might say I was a little bitter. The rest of my evening was spent sulking on my couch with an ice pack and inflexible arms. At this juncture, I began to resent them for their instruction to avoid alcohol for the evening, as the conditions provided a prime time to down a few brewskies.
I looked like a drug addict the next day, but was overjoyed to be able to fully bend my arms without pain the next morning. Though this was quite a 'draining' experience which re-established my fear of giving blood, I plan to stick to my guns and continue to donate every eight weeks.
Ridiculous, I know. I just spilled my guts about an awful experience that no one should ever have to willingly experience, and I'm going to repeatedly put myself back into that situation? Why, why, WHY!?
There are so many great excuses to keep your sleeves down - fear of needles, you don't want to feel weak afterwards, you're too busy or you've had bad experiences in the past.
However, when you take the time to think through the impact you can have on another life, all these 'troubles' become well worth it. Sacrificing a little comfort in your day in order to save or dramatically affect another person's life seems worth it, doesn't it?
If that's not enough reason to make it worth your time, maybe you're the type that would do it for the free treats you get to mow down when you're finished donating. Whatever your reason, I'm willing to bet the receiver won't care.
Regardless of how you feel about rolling up your sleeve, I would encourage you to sign up to donate. You never know - you might just walk out feeling better than when you went in.
Shootin' the Wit is a weekly column about everyday life that should never, ever be taken too seriously.
Posted by: Laura Stoneburner on 7.11.2008 at 4:10 PM | Comments (1) | Permalink
The Death Clock
If you had the option to know when you're going to die, would you want to know?
I recently discovered a pretty interesting website - www.deathclock.com. Just like the URL suggests, this site provides you with a countdown until - you got it! - your death.
Some basic information is required - your date of birth, sex, BMI, smoking status, and whether you consider yourself sadistic, pessimistic or optimistic. You fill in your five bits, click "Check Your Death Clock," and hope your death day is a ways out. The clock reveals your "Personal Day of Death" and continuously counts down the seconds you have left to live.
Well, looks like my expiration date is Tuesday, April 15, 2081. Oddly enough, when I fill it in again with the same information, I get a different date - every time. Trying to trick the site, I pretended to be a 108-year-old smoking pessimist with a BMI of no less than 45. Proud of my trickery, I clicked "Check Your Death Clock." A warning message popped up - "I'm sorry, but your time has already expired. Have a nice day!" Have a nice day?!? I'm DEAD!
Okay, so the site isn't 100% accurate. You shouldn't feel anxious about your number steadily decreasing there is no need to worry about adding the date to your calendar or hosting a farewell party for yourself before your "date of departure." It should, however, get you thinking about how differently you'd be living if a precise death clock actually existed.
We've all heard what they say about living every day as if it's your last. This is a difficult rule to follow. Most of us live our days cautiously, keeping in mind that decisions made now will affect us for the rest of our lives! We assume this is going to be an extended period of time, but if the rest of your life is only four more days, there's no real point in taking good care of yourself, is there?
This is why it might be nice to have a countdown. While it might cause severe psychological problems, it would have its benefits. You could have a little fun the week preceding your death rather than spending 1/3 of your week working. Personally, I'd like to spend my last week doing things that can't be done in a coffin: Randomly hand out $100 bills, test the "blondes have more fun" theory, skydive, book a last-minute flight to Australia, bet $1,000 on a single hand of blackjack, tell my boss what I really think, ride the world's largest rollercoaster, dance naked in the street, pimp out my Geo, and give away all the money I've worked my entire life to save up.
Basically throw caution to the wind and spend the last 604,800 seconds not caring so much about... well, anything! Which is exactly why a precise death clock doesn't exist (other than it being impossible to create) -- various people doing hazardous, random things to live a little more life before the game is over.
Shootin' the Wit is a weekly column about everyday life that should never, ever be taken too seriously.
Posted by: Laura Stoneburner on 7.04.2008 at 4:44 PM | Comments (0) | Permalink