Old Man Winter Is A Crotchety Fella

         When I picture Old Man Winter I picture an old dude sitting on his front porch, blistering winds and mountains of snow surrounding him. Completely immune to the cold, he rocks back and forth, watery eyes narrowing at the sight of Spring across the street (the four seasons live in Cul-De-Sac, and each section of land is completely untouched by the one next to it) and the crowd of children in shorts sitting in a circle on freshly mowed grass while they weave daisy chains.

          He was certainly crotchety today, with this crazy wind and snow that buried most of us in our homes and forced some out to shovel sidewalks or driveways throughout the day. I wasn't one of those people, thankfully, and spent my day blissfully cuddled beneath warm blankets with my cat while we watched episodes of The Waltons on cable and triumphed over the final boss of Kirby's Adventure on classic Nintendo.

      The Northeast was hit pretty hard, and while it wasn't quite as difficult as most of us anticipated or the weatherpeople made it out to be...it was still pretty treacherous. That brings me to something I want to say every time there's a snowstorm, and that I've only ever seen one person on Facebook ever actually come out and say themselves.

       Yes, we here in the Northeast are accustomed to snow. We're more than familiar with shoveling driveways and clearing off our cars. Driving in snow? Yup- we've all white-knuckled it down the highway in less-than-desirable visibility, and lived to tell the tale. But what quite a few people seem to forget these days is this: just because you can do it doesn't mean you should. I'm absolutely sick to death of people commenting on weather posts with 'Well, you live in Maine/Siberia/Alaska/Hell, so you should just suck it up.'. It doesn't matter where you live- weather is weather. If I lived somewhere that was constantly plagued by tornadoes...that doesn't mean I should just throw up my arms and have a picnic every time the weather gets tough. What people tend to forget is that nature is unpredictable, and if it's snowing...there's nothing to stop you from going off the road when the ice is hidden by snow, and just because you might be super cautious it doesn't mean that someone else won't crash into you.

       No matter where you live- being brazen about it doesn't make the situation better. Going out into the world with your chest puffed out and muttering about how you 'have four-wheel-drive and snow tires' doesn't mean it's any more safe. You may be able to make it wherever you're going, but that in no way means you have to call other people cowards for not wanting to do the same. And trust me, those of us who live in states that experience the change in seasons may really, really want to go somewhere else. Telling us to do so doesn't make it any more affordable, and we have every right to say we don't feel safe in inclement weather.

     Safety isn't something that should be tossed aside just to show how 'brave' you think you are.

      

Clutter, DeClutter, Hoarder, DeHoarder?

   I wouldn't say I necessarily classify myself as a hoarder, but I certainly manage to put away a great deal of...stuff. Over the years I've kept bookmarks from elementary school, awards from basketball, ribbons from speech team- you name it. And every few months/years/decades I go through boxes and toss something that I've been hanging on to for so long because I felt it was somehow important...until one day I realized that I don't need that plaque from the one year I played basketball, or those ribbons that are wilted and stained from water damage.

   One thing I've kept for years and seem to have quite the accumulation of are notebooks. Pens, and notebooks- which go hand in hand, really, as they're both used together. I'm a writer and I always have been, so it was never uncommon for me to have any number of writing implements in my bag and a notebook hanging out somewhere, until the days of tablets came and I graduated to an iPad Air and bluetooth keyboard. There would still be a pen in the depths of my purse, but no longer was it necessary to carry a large bag that could contain everything I needed for one of those 'just in case I needed to write' moments (the fact that I still carry a large bag is mostly for the need to be prepared for any eventuality- such as headaches, paper cuts, and assorted injuries).

   I have, sitting next to me, one rather attractive notebook made from recycled cardboard. I'm rather particular about what I write on, so this one has very smooth pages and a nice, thick cover. The cheaper notebooks are fantastic but the paper is terrible, and I enjoy perforated pages for the ease of tearing out pages that contain anything I'm not happy with or made several very frustrating mistakes on. This is the only notebook currently with me, but by no means is it the only notebook I have. Sitting in a box in the next room are four more, and on a bookshelf in the living room is yet another. At work, on my desk, is a pad of graph paper that's also half full.

   As a writer I'm a half-full...or half-fill....kind of person. Haha.

   I tend to change notebooks pretty frequently. They're like a mood ring, and while the colors of the notebooks I write in may change, they in no way signify how I feel. One day I might feel like writing in the purple notebook because it already contains a story I'm in the mood for, and the next day I might feel like writing in the recycled notebook because it has thinner lines than the former. That same feeling goes with the instruments I write with as well, because one day might have me using a ballpoint pen and the next might have me feeling the need to make my words as fine as possible with the elegant point of a sharpie pen (which, by the way, should only be used when one plans on writing only on one side of the page).

   Everyone has their oddity, and while I certainly feel I have more than one...this is only the tip of the mechanical pencil (I also enjoy those, from time to time, but only on the really firm paper. They're rubbish on the cheap, flimsy notebooks. Trust me.). But it makes you wonder, doesn't it, what other interesting things people hang on to? Those are the people who aren't necessarily hoarders but collectors of a sort. People who don't keep a thing for its value or because they have a compulsion...but because their moods change, and with them the need to dig out something they've held onto for a very, very long time.

   I could throw out a few of these notebooks, sure- but you never know when one might finally get finished. So for now they stay. And they wait.

Convenience. What's Really Needed?

     So today I made what I often consider to be an unwanted (yet in my area completely necessary) trip to our local Walmart. I prefer to hit up Target whenever possible (the employees just seem more often to enjoy themselves at work and the colors of many household items there are just more my style), but even with gas prices going down it just isn't economical to go twenty minutes away in order to shop. In this case I only needed a few things to eat, so I made the foray into Walmart and its cavernous depths to purchase those items.

   On my way in and out, I caught sight of shopping carts scattered throughout the parking lot. Not an uncommon sight, even with the cart corrals that are sprinkled about for the exact purpose of collecting those abandoned carts. As I was driving away I counted at least six that were propped up on the median among skeletal bushes (winter just has a way of making nature look beautiful but corporate landscaping downright ugly), even though a cart corral was literally two cars away and there was plenty of space in it.

    So, convenience. Once upon a time there were little mom and pop stores (Ike Godsey's Mercantile, for example. Remember The Waltons?) where you could carry all you needed in your arms or in the adorable wicker/metal baskets. Carts and cart corrals aren't a chicken and egg situation- the carts came first, for the convenience of pushing groceries, and the cart corrals came second, for the convenience of (I imagine) the employees who were then forced to go out and collect the carts during their shifts. You never see a shopping basket abandoned in the parking lot (and that makes me wonder- if a customer tried to carry one out of the store in lieu of filling their hands with bags, would an employee stop them or let them continue?). Once the demand exceeded what a basket could reasonably carry, there came the cart.

   But the point is, it was meant to make things easy. So were the corrals. I'd love to see just what the early days of the cart corral were like, and if people were more apt to leave the carts there, or just keep on keeping on. Did it eventually all go downhill?

  Self checkouts are also meant to be incredibly convenient. Make things faster, allow you to just buzz through with your small amount of items (I forget- is there a limit?) and not have to wait for a cashier. Like a 'ten items or less line', I'd like to assume the entire point is to just take your rat poison or single microwave dinner, scan and be on your way. But the convenience becomes not so much of one when people decide to create an inconvenience and ask 'can I use a check', so that the wait that was supposed to be eliminated is then created. A person just took this incredible convenience and made it less of one for other people, all because they didn't want to wait in line.

   And bags! In California they've passed a law (I'm not clear on all of the details, but those of you who read the news and watch it are probably familiar) that is banishing plastic bags from stores. Target asks, when you walk in, if you have your reusable bags, and if not...there will be an added cost to your order. There are many reasons behind this, and while California is doing so on a larger scale, this isn't the first instance of stores requiring such a thing. Save a Lot doesn't even give you plastic bags, I believe, unless you pay. They encourage reusable bags, or allow you to take boxes.

   I'm not saying that all conveniences are abused, nor am I saying that they're not fantastic. Sure, I love that I can buzz through a self checkout and be on my merry way. My common sense tells me not to take a bottle of alcohol through one because it will take longer, or scan a cart full of items because that's really just as pointless. Not everyone has common sense, or for that matter, courtesy.
 
   I wonder if someday we won't revert back to the way things were, in the mom and pop store days. Like bell bottoms coming back or neon colors, will we ever decide on a collective scale that what we buy is more than what we need? Will demand scale back so far that a lot of the modern day conveniences will no longer exist? There are so many people that are conscious of their spending habits now, and I'd say that a fair amount of my close circle of friends are among then- so how long will it be before you can go out into the world and find yourself at a store where you're not given carts anymore, and you only buy what you can carry?

   I can't say I wouldn't miss the ability to buy on a whim, but as with any changes in the world, I'm sure we'd all adapt to it. Start carrying your reusable bags in your trunk, and park your cart in the corral. The earth will appreciate the former, the employees will appreciate the latter, and if shopping carts ever do become a thing of the past...you'll just be that much more used to it.

Whatever Happened to Articles?

     So it has come to my attention in recent years (and more than likely before that, even) that most informative links on the internet lead to...a video. You're familiar with the sensation of intrigue, I'm sure, when you see a headline promising an explanation of some kind of other, and you click on the link only to be led to...a video showing you how to make pajamas for your cat. Or how to make caramel with a can of condensed milk.  

     I don't know about you, but I really can't always stop and watch a video. I might be...oh, I don't know- in the middle of a waiting room, or in a room with other people who are watching tv. I might not feel like watching a five minute video when I can read the important points of an article that goes over the exact same material. 

     I understand some of the idea behind it, of course. Videos are great for people who are visually impaired (for the audio portion, anyway). But if I don't have a pair of headphones handy, or I have a limited data package on my cellular plan (videos use more data), I might just want to read the article. Or save it for reference.

    Today I stumbled across one of the articles I mentioned above: how to make caramel with a can of condensed milk, boiling the can on the stove. Intrigued, I clicked the link...and was led to an instructional video. I'd have much preferred to read the steps, find out what exactly the person did or how exactly it made caramel and what it tasted like. But instead I was only given then option of watching and listening. 

   A great balance would be for every instructional video to be paired with a transcript of the video itself, allowing people who don't want to press play (or who might be having difficulties streaming it due to issues with their systems) to get the information without actually having to leave with the frustration of knowing it was all just so close. All that stopped them was that pesky video, and now they'd never know the secret to unlocking the true power...of the ninja.

   Or whatever.

    

Crazy? Nah, I'm just a cat lady.

Since getting another cat two years ago (and before I get started, those of you who know me are aware that I only currently have one cat- by 'another' I mean 'another in my lifetime'. Continuing now.), I've found that many, many people have taken to referring to me as a 'crazy cat lady'. So let me take a few moments of your time to educate you on what, exactly qualifies one as a 'crazy cat lady', and why it is that I am absolutely not one, thank you very freaking much.

Hey, also- let us take a moment to wonder why on earth no one calls a single guy with a cat 'crazy'. Same bacteria, for pete's sake. So a guy with a cat he dotes on clearly has no issues. Another example of the media being absolute twits to women?

Maybe so. But...moving on.

Educational point: So the term 'crazy cat lady' was basically coined because of a bacteria cats carry (See the following link for details). This bacteria tends to latch on to people and cause personality things like OCD to flare up, and make someone 'crazy'. So the media latched on to it, and bam- 'crazy cat lady'.


See: Crazy Cat Lady Syndrome

Anyway. So yes, I'm depressed and yes, I'm single (as this other article indicates, these two things can often cause a devotion to the pet in question), so thanks to this incredibly stupid spin the media put on it...clearly I'm a crazy cat lady. Right? Right?

Wrong.

I'm not crazy. In fact, I'm unique and eccentric, but not certifiably crazy. My being devoted- as they say in these aforementioned articles- does not in any way mean I'm crazy. People use, as I've learned in recent years, any shape or size of animal to deal with their emotional needs. Small dogs can be therapy dogs (and I'm just as guilty as anyone of wondering why a tiny Yorkie had a 'therapy dog' vest). Emotional therapy is a thing that's more necessary than many realize, and if it takes my owning a cat and devoting myself to it- my emotional well-being is what I'm dealing with, so don't put me into that stereotype, because there's a lot more than meets the eye.

So a crazy cat lady I am most certainly not. But a cat lady? Definitely.

Let's Get Back into the Swing of Things, Shall We?

So I haven't written anything here...since February, if Google is accurate in their timeline. But today I got something in the mail, and I had to write about that...because how often does someone have something this goofy and random to write about?

I'm a landowner!

What's that, you say? Owning land is pretty common now, really- whether it's land you inherited from your grandparents, their grandparents, or your own parents. It's land. I think these days it has a bit less sentimental value than it used to (think Little House on the Prairie and how Pa sowed the land, planted, had to stay there on his claim for months until it was really and truly theirs), but just the same...it's pretty substantial. You own land, and you have something to build on, plant on, just make snow angels on in the wintertime. Whatever you want.

Today, in the mail, I received a part of my Ten Days of Kwanzaa or Whatever from Cards Against Humanity. The company pulled several very interesting stunts revolving around the holidays, one of which was actual poop you received in the mail (oh, the people who I imagine were steamed about that- though thankfully it was just the people who were steamed and not the actual poop. Eew.). The Ten Days of Kwanzaa or Whatever consisted of ten days (accurate) of random things in the mail. Actual custom printed CaH cards involving your name, an interesting breakdown of some legislative information, and....a piece of land. Not literally, of course, as said land would not fit in an envelope.

But Cards Against Humanity acquired themselves a lovely little private island for something like $200,000, and in a fairly hilarious gimmick, gave people who had purchased the Ten Days subscription exactly one square foot of land. So I could stand in it, build a card house on it, plant a teeny flag on it...whatever I want. Tax free, even...so my only major obligation is to keep it tidy.

I'm somewhat tempted, as a new landowner, to hike myself over to Lake St. George in Maine, where my square foot is located, and do yoga in my tiny square foot. Yoga that involves standing up, because I can't very well be rude and do a <insert yoga pose here> on both my square foot and someone elses'. Trespassing is something people take seriously, these days.

But all the same, I own land now. So. I can check that off of my bucket list. If I had a bucket list.

I think the D is broken...

Isn't that always the way, that your warranty expires and all of the problems just manifest themselves in a span of time that rivals how quickly small children can get into mischief. I mean, you barely turn around and -bam- the 'd' button no longer works and the spacebar makes horrible clicking noises like it's trying desperately to ride an imaginary pony without the coconut shells for effect. Everyone knows- you need coconut shells to ride an imaginary pony.

I work in customer service, and every single person who calls in about some sort of problem gets all up in arms when they discover that they have to exchange their device due to some sort of malfunction. It's not even the fact that they have to actually exchange it, but more the fact that 'You mean I'm going to get a refurbished phone/tablet/husband/dog/universal remote'? 

Of course you are. You're going to get a refurbished phone/tablet/universal remote/spaceship/BB gun/kitten because you've USED yours, and we aren't giving you a brand new phone/tablet/universal remote/key to the city/refrigerator/hissing cockroach. Because yours wasn't brand new, so why on earth should you get a brand new one? 

And why do you have to pay for it? Five dollars or twenty, six buttons or six hundred buttons? Doesn't matter- it costs to do it. Some poor worker somewhere has to take your gunky disgusting phone/tablet/book light/pizza pan/shoulder massager and actually take it apart to fix it. So you might have sneezed on it, your schnauzer might have peed on it, and you may have herpes...so they have to charge a fee. It's minor, and if you're being given a replacement for free...you shouldn't argue. Because that's much better than an insurance deductible.

That's another thing: insurance deductibles. If you got insurance for your iPad and your iPad gets stolen by some thug who just wants to use it to buy his baby mama some bling on ebay...well, you're going to file a claim. And the insurance company is going to ask you for some money, because you may only have been paying for your insurance for a few months, and there's no way you've been paying enough to cover the replacement of any sort of iDevice.

And if you go to the doctor, unless you're under twenty-five and/or have REALLY GOOD INSURANCE, you're going to pay a deductible. It may not be much...but even the ER has at least a $100.00 deductible. Same goes for car insurance, pet insurance, and pretty much every type of insurance you can think of...or I can think of.

So the moral of this story is: nothing is free. NOTHING. It's probably going to happen whether you like it or not, and the 'd' button will stop working when it *amned well pleases (see what I did there?), and the only thing to be done is to realize the universe is out to get you and pay up. If you can't pay up, then clearly you bit off more than you could chew in owning an e-device or universal remote shaped like the Sonic Screwdriver of the 10th doctor....and you may have to go back to the crappy old universal remote they sell at the local Massively Ridiculous Mart for all of five dollars. 

Pay your deductible, pay your warranty fee, and just be grateful you're not paying another five hundred dollars for a replacement phone/remote car starter/robot dog.