Crumpled Paper

Sorting through the mess on my desk. I come across paper with old to-do-list, no longer relevant. Thought: ‘Look on the other side, see if it can be used.’ Back of paper is blank. Thought: ‘I should save paper to write on.’ I crumple the paper, and throw it into garbage can. There is something about starting fresh with a 100% virgin sheet of paper. I have toned down my habit quite a bit, and am usually pretty good at saving half used sheets. But in this case, Prad got these super thin sheets made out of recycled paper. They feel as if they can only handle one sided writing.

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Creatures of Habit

Late night errand at Longs drugstore. My basket was overflowing, and I realized at the checkout counter, that the thought had not even occurred to me, to bring a bag with me. We are such creatures of habits. The green bag for Whole Foods, yes. But for Longs? Of course, I redeemed myself by declining the clerk’s offer of a plastic bag. And walked out, with my arms full of toiletries.

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The Experts Are Unnerved

The Experts are Unnerved by what’s been happening in the Arctic. Yet another article in the New York Times, complete with cool multimedia interactive window, where you can ‘see’ the extent of the Arctic ice melt over this last summer. Scary thoughts cross my mind, and that’s it.

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Procrastination

I know I said I am going to buy a bike, and a helmet. I am going to register with Green Dimes. I am going to buy a clothesline, and a composter. I am going to buy natural home cleaning products. I said I am going to do all these things, and I haven’t yet. It’s called procrastination. Waiting until the last minute to do what needs to get done. Last minute? The 11th Hour has become a popular idiom for global warming doom. If I am a procrastinator, and I wait until the last moment to do what I find most unpleasant, the question becomes then, what is the deadline? How does one define the 11th hour? And more importantly, what needs to happen, in order for me to feel that the moment has come? Or will it be already too late to act, when I feel it, finally? No, the real challenge is how to turn the things on the list into a priority? How to get them to the top of my bigger personal to-do list, ahead of shopping, work even, and personal indulgence items?

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The Sunday Paper

I just finished separating the Sunday San Francisco Chronicle into two piles of equal height. The sections I read, and the other stuff, what I will not read. In the ‘will not read pile’ are mostly ad booklets for various advertisers. In France, the Sunday papers are a tenth of the size of their American counterparts. As far as I know, French newspapers are still making money. My question to the American newspapers is this: why do you need to use so much paper? why do you need to have so many sections? why do advertisers need to take so much space? can’t you start working with advertisers to reduce all that waste of paper? I know we live in the land of ‘bigger is better’, but in this case, bigger is clearly worse. And I am a passive accomplice, as long as I keep on subscribing to the stuff.

 

To-do-list: 1) stop subscribing to paper version of newspaper; 2) even better, start public dialog on issue, boycott.

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Follow Up and Priorities

Two days ago, I started making a list for my personal green infrastructure. List of things I need to buy, and do, to get myself set up for easy green living. The list has been floating around in my head. It pops up, whenever I have an idle moment, and begs for action. So far, I always find something better to do. I need to write in my blog. There is this marketing document I promised. Dinner is in a few hours, and I still haven’t gone to the grocery store. I want to take my daily swim . . . I feel ashamed.

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Junk Mail

Today, in my mailbox: 1) Cabelas Deer Hunting catalog, a remnant of my days as a performance artist, when I was looking for a camouflage outfit; 2) Garnet Hill clothing and home decor catalog, addressed to my husband’s ex, and still coming to our house; 3) Van Dyke’s taxidermy catalog, from the times when I was making sculptures. Today is a light day. Usually, we get a lot more junk mail. With Green Dimes, there is really no reason why I should tolerate such wastage any longer.

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Toxic

Esperanza came to clean the house today. The smell of toxic chemicals soon filled the kitchen. I have been meaning to replace all our existing household cleaning products with safer, green alternatives. Have not gotten around to it yet. I have the info stored somewhere on my computer, but I have been too lazy to take action. Plus nobody else in the house seems to mind.

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Indulgence

Alone in the house, for a change. Prad is still in Hawaii, and the children have left for the evening. I decided to indulge myself, and to heat the hot tub. The pleasure of relaxing, thoughts sliding away, after a cool dip into the pool. I deserve it. I don’t care, it just feels too good. Pleasure overrides any pang of guilt. I am too tired to think anyway.

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Recycling?

I was proud of myself today. I took a whole hour, out of my already busy day, to bring my old PowerBook to the FedEx store for recycling. There was only one glitch. The Apple folks sent me an incomplete email, without the necessary bar code to make the FedEx transaction possible. I called Apple Customer Service, and was placed on hold for a good fifteen minutes. Once I got through, it was another fifteen minutes of questioning, and in the end no resolution. I was told to go home, pull out my Apple receipt, and then log onto the website, so that they can send me another email, this one hopefully with the magic bar code. I started wavering, considering other options. I could just ditch the thing at Goodwill, although it is totally broken, and then who knows what they will do with it. I even considered the ultimate crime, throwing it in the garbage. I became angry at Apple for sabotaging my best intentions. What will happen to the old computer? Right now, it is sitting on the floor, by my desk. It will be a while, before I take another shot at recycling it. In the mean time, I have decided to hold off on my criminal urges. It will be saved from the landfill, or another uncertain fate.

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