things in the rearview

dress (your cubicle) for success.

Guarantee this guy is fun to work with. Especially for an aristocratic 18th century land barron/middle-management account executive.

things that keep me up at night

Here’s a thought that has crept into my head at bedtime every night for the last week:

365 days in a year, call it 80 or so years to live= 30,000 days.

That’s it. An entire life is only about 30,000 days. And that’s a full life; let’s not even do the math on those who go early.

The smallness of 30,000 is disconcerting to me. I find myself suddenly frustrated at all the days I’ve wasted watching TV because it’s raining, the days I’ve simply given away to play Xbox 360 endlessly, the wasteful time spent in bars and clubs. What foolish ways to spend life.

The days add up quickly, too. I’m reminded of being on a boat, glancing back at the shore only to see just how distant it’s become, and how quickly! It happens without notice. Suddenly the events and times in life that had seemed so recent are figures on a distant horizon. The strangest and most irreconcilable element of this phenomenon is the knowledge that you will never again return to those shores.

I’m still digesting the lessons in the 30,000 day reality. I’m sure there are great learning opportunities here; paradigm shifts to be had, philosophical insights to take away. But at this moment, I’m just shocked at how little time we get.

Awesome. Just flat out awesome.

Eating Food @ Moms: Food From an Alternate Universe.

Going over to my parents house to eat has become an increasingly challenging endeavor. This is because of my mother's descent into the madness that is a Trader Joes addiction. On grocery day she is Trader Jones-ing for some economicly priced organic food stuffs. And who can blame her? The prices, the health, etc etc, right? Except that Trader Joe's offers only a mirage of the food you know and love. Chase it and be warned, there is no oasis just over the horizon. Yet still women everywhere, my mother included, continue on, thirsty in the desert.

You see, it's not enough for the Trader Joe's addict to bring home a frozen pizza. They instead come home with a frozen muselli wafer, featuring organic light vodka red sauce and aged goat cheese ricotta. Breadlike base? Yes. Red Sauce with Cheese? It's there. But is that thing I ate in any way a pizza? No, it is most ceretainly not a pizza. I know this because pizza is good, while muselli wafers, with light vodka red sauce and goat cheese...they taste like a combination of cardboard, rainwater, and curdled rats milk (in a pretty decent light vodka red sauce).

For my mother and the other TJ's addicts, it's too unfashionable to eat regular, everyday brands and foods. Those brands have, after all, been responsable for fattening us up with their trans-fats, and their high fructose corn syrup...for shame! Poor little fat elementry school kids.

So no, there will be no cereal and milk for breakfast...that would be too simple, too delicious, too normal. No, instead you may have Whole Grain Kashi and Kefir. And honestly, the Kashi was pretty good, for horse food...but what the frick is kefir? It's definitley not milk. It's kind of like, but not quite, yogurt. "Of Questionable Origins" is not a quality that I regularly seek out in dairy.

I understand that health is a good thing, and organic food is very healthy. And I'm sure that through some transative property, organic food is therefore a good thing. Except when it's not. When men (and I'll just go ahead and speak for all of us here) want Ice Cream, we don't want Soy Ice Shavings. When we want Fried Chicken, we defenitley do not want Poached Organic Tilapia Tenders. And Rice and Beans are not the same as Quinoa and Edimame.

Somewhere along the line, the Trader Joes addiction became too strong and overpowered my mother, and I fear she's gone forever. So, take this as a cautionary tale, or eat like a rabbit for the rest of your life...it's your choice.