BaRou is the New Bklyn

Grow your own

Totally grew this and then totally ate it. Picante.

Friday Randomness Roundup

I haven't updated good old Abandoned Baton Rouge in almost a month, but yesterday I finally visited a site I've been meaning to hit for ages: D-Jay's School of Beauty. Do check it out.

I also became an even more official Louisiana resident, of course to my dismay.

 

She sells sanctuary

This is the time of year that back in New York I'd start to feel trapped by bricks and concrete. I'd wish for a country-house retreat, fantasize about having my own yard, and plan my first camping trip of the season. As spring became summer, I'd grow even more anxious to get back to nature.

And now here in BaRou, where it's already been spring for two months, I finally have a yard. My first impression of our lush, semi-tropically appointed back yard last year was sanctuary, and during this past sad weekend, that observation rang true. It helped to be out there with the dog in my own parcel of green and flowered space. (That's one reason I'm so jazzed about my fiance's future profession of landscape architecture; humans bound by concrete, without enough green space, are probably more prone to aggression. Just look at New Yorkers. Another reason I'm jazzed about it is that his chosen profession is not "musician." Don't get me started--am I right, ladies?!)

Give me convenience and give me death

And now, it's that time again where I get all Unabomber/conspiracy theorist/back-to-nature/luddite/hippie on you while making complete sense, at least in my own mind.

So, awesome new Austinite Amy V Cooper forwarded me an article called Microwave Ovens: the Curse of Convenience. In my health-nutty mind, I knew that microwaves were No Damn Good and too much of them surely equaled cancer, like so many technologies seem to, but I didn't have any science to back that up. Admittedly I still don't, since I skimmed the sciencey parts of this article, but it was enough to have me swearing off the microwave for good. I've only been using the micro for heating up leftovers and the occasional thaw-out, but it looks like the old toaster oven's going to get more use now.

After the jump, I will beautifully dovetail this topic with a man I saw yesterday who I'd like to call Crazy Mc Crazerson.

My little corner of the world

There's a corner of my office that's been getting increasingly prettier for the past week or so as February turns more and more springlike and more blooms come out. And I'm sure there's a photo, between the yellow and the green and the yellow and the white and the lines and the light...but I don't know if I've gotten it yet.

Empty Foods

All good intentions aside, I imagine that most mortals can't afford to buy everything they need at Whole Foods (and many can't afford to buy anything there). So there's another local grocery store I reluctantly go to for certain items: Albertson's, which I think of as the anti-Whole Foods.

Whereas Whole Foods surrounds you with an impression that you're contributing to good, or at least contributing less to evil, Albertson's presents no such lofty ideals. The food for sale here seems to be all about pleasing the id. I'm so repulsed by much of the offerings at Albertsons (and their implications for health and the planet) that in a twisted way, I've come to enjoy my visits. What will I see next?

Return of Friday roundup

Some of you out there might be thinking, Great, now that CoKane is engaged we're probably going to have to hear all about the wedding plans and all sorts of wedding-related faggotry.

CORRECT! While I couldn't have given a nutria's ass about such matters pre-engagement, I have begun poking around some of the websites, not for my own planning but for research (more on that after the jump). And through that pokeabout I found this site selling gorgeous vintage gowns and dresses, and had a minor freakout, thinking, I totally have a reason to buy one of these beautiful gowns now and look at that one oh no its sold soisthat one every one I like is soldaaaaaaah!

Fortunately, there's a way to prevent most wedding business from muddying up my regularly scheduled blogging.

Crap and more crap

Behold The Euro Chopper. It was a bonus that came with a purchase of Forever Sharp knives on Black Friday. I'd had one such chopper years ago, purchased for 9.99 at a kiosk in the Livingston Mall for my dad (but really for me).Today I used this new one for the first time (its retail value now supposedly $34.95). Well, I guess Europe really ain't what it used to be, because today was also the day the Euro Chopper broke. (Come to think of it, I think that's the same fate the first one met, only it served us a lot longer.)

Maybe I was too vigorous in my onion chopping, but more likely The Euro Chopper is a flimsy piece of crap, and one whose components will remain on the planet long after the maggots have trod through my brain, savoring all the delicious clever morsels. And all just to chop less than one onion, when I already had the Forever Sharp knife to perform the same task quite well.

If I ever go crazy, don't be surprised if it happens in a big-box store, set off by some ridiculous product like a box of Fast Franks, each hot dog pre-bunned and sealed in its own plastic that will never decompose.

This 20-minute web film by Annie Leonard, The Story of Stuff, breaks down the issues that combine to give me the fear whenever I find myself in a conventional supermarket or mall or big-box store. Basically, Annie explains how the current system of production and consumption is burning through the planet's resources, putting toxins in the air and into people, and wrecking lives, and all so that people can keep buying more and more crap that's designed to break or become obsolete, and keep tossing away what they have to make room for still more crap. Clearly it's a model that can't sustain itself forever. (I guess Annie wanted her message to be accessible to children, so her delivery is a bit too Romper Room, but we'll let that slide.)

Be thankful for what you've got

Thanksgiving plans changed with the death in the family, so my parents did not join us, and instead we were joined by four straggler grad students who didn't go home for the holiday.

Starting on Wednesday, the bf's mom and I prepared an embarassment of Thanksgiving dishes, continuing all day Thursday so by the big night we barely had room for it all on the table. We had real turkey and veg "celebration roast," dressing as the Southerners apparently call it and veggie stuffing as the Northerners apparently call it. (Don't hassle me for this claim, it was made by the awesome Beth Ditto from Gossip, in the cover interview in the newest issue of BUST. I think she knows what she's talking about; she looks like she likes to eat. Also, Northern bf and I call it stuffing while his Texan mom calls it dressing.) We had three yellow labs running around like maniacs in the back yard, and one of our grad guests, hailing from Long Island, added his big bruising bulldog to the mix. The other gradettes hailed from Philadelphia, Brooklyn by way of North Carolina, and Beijing, China.