The People-Pleasing Vegetarian

A couple of weeks ago, I went to a friend’s house for dinner. She made spaghetti with meatballs. Something I love. But there was a problem. I couldn’t eat it because I’m now a vegetarian. And I couldn’t tell my friend because I’m a self-proclaimed people pleaser.

So what did I do? I ate the meatballs, of course.

As a people pleaser, I will do almost anything to avoid upsetting others. This includes, but is not limited to, going out to a crowded bar at 1 AM on a Sunday night, spending exorbitant amounts of money on bad plays, and eating foods I don’t eat anymore.

For me, going vegetarian is an important part of going green and leading a healthier lifestyle. But going veg and staying veg are two different things.

I haven’t made the full transition. I’ve only eliminated fish and meat so far. Fish because of its high mercury content and over-fishing, and meat because of its impact on the environment (run-off from factory farms that pollute our waterways and the amount of greenhouse gas emissions from just one kilogram of beef, to name just a few).

After the dinner with my friend, I realized I wasn’t going to get anywhere if my convictions were as soft as her spaghetti noodles. I would have to stop pleasing others and start pleasing myself.

My next dinner invitation, I held my ground. Sort of.

It was my father-in-law’s birthday. They were serving ribs. I panicked. I took a deep breath and told myself that I would not eat them. Unfortunately, I also didn’t tell anyone else. So, while they were getting stuffed on ribs, I was getting starved on salad.

My stomach kept growling…loudly. The kind of growl that attracts attention. I excused myself. “Did you eat enough?” someone asked. “NO!” I screamed inside my head but let out a quieter, people-pleasing,“Yes.”

I couldn’t get home fast enough. We walked through the door and I ran for the fridge. I grabbed anything I could get my veggie hands on. I had a three-course meal of sunflower seeds, black beans and old grapes.

Then I felt sick. All because I was too afraid to ask for something else to eat. Was this any better than not eating meat?

The problem wasn’t my eating habits. The problem was my pleasing habits. I realize I need to reduce them and ultimately get rid of them.

There should be Jenny Craig for people pleasers. You would be allowed certain portions of people pleasing per day.

Or a reality show called The Biggest Pleaser. Instead of trying to get along with others, contestants are rewarded for standing their ground, no matter what others think.

I’d sign up for a show like that in a second. But only if it didn’t upset someone else…

GOBAMA!

We just came inside after taking Bailey for his walk.  The city is electric.  Everyone is cheering and screaming and horns beeping madly.  I've never felt anything like this!

CONGRATULATIONS President-Elect Barack Obama! I and the City of New York look forward to an amazing 4 years!!

You Can’t Always Green What You Want

In my journey to go green, I’ve made some cold-turkey changes…like changing out my light bulbs and carrying reusable shopping bags.

But many things aren’t that simple. I am constantly finding out that you can’t always get everything you want into one neat little package.

For instance, my deodorant. I always used Secret. Loved it. Kept me dry and non-stinky. But then I found out the secret. Aluminum. That’s what was keeping me fresh as a daisy. But aluminum has been linked to Alzheimer's, cancer, and God knows what else. The other ingredients in my favorite deodorant weren’t much better. So I decided to switch to a natural brand, Tom’s.

I began my crossover in the winter when I barely sweat. Worked like a charm.

And then, it started to get warm. I felt myself starting to get sweaty. I took a sniff. Crap. It was the deodorant. The missing aluminum! It wasn’t clogging up my sweat glands. I was definitely au naturale.

It was the same with my toothpaste.

It was supposed to be a routine visit to my new dentist. A simple cleaning. He put his magnifying camera in my mouth and there I was on the screen in front of me. He took a laser pointer and started showing me little marks. Cavities. And a lot of them. I’ve had one cavity in my whole life and now I have…a lot! I brush, I floss. How did this happen?

He asked me what toothpaste I was using. “Tom’s” I replied. He gasped. “You need the fluoride!” “No!” I shouted back. Fluoride is known to be toxic and linked to osteoporosis and now he wanted me to go back to using it! He told me it was the equivalent to not using bleach to clean your tub. Well…we know what happened to me the last time I used bleach and I won’t go there again.

So the big looming question…what do I do now?

Isn’t the presidential election like that? You’ve chosen your candidate, you’re solid in your choice and then he reveals something you just don’t agree with.

My candidate acknowledges that global warming is happening. He believes in wind and solar power and creating green jobs. But some of his solutions, like clean coal technology and off-shore drilling, are not the best things for the environment.

And so the question comes up again…what do I do now?

The truth is, I don’t want to smell and I hate the drill. So I compromise. Secret in the summer, Tom’s in the winter. Colgate in the morning, Tom’s before bed.

My candidate’s positions that I agree with outweigh the ones that I don’t. With that in mind, Obama gets my support, but not for everything. If he wants my support for clean coal technology, he’ll find, like I do, that you can’t always get what you want.

Ideals Laundered and Pressed

It’s no secret that I despise plastic bags.

Aside from being made from petroleum or natural gas, they’re a threat to our environment. Whether they’re clogging storm drains, finding their way into rivers and oceans, or simply sitting in landfills, they are wrecking havoc on our planet.

The US goes through an estimated 100 billion plastic bags a year.

I’ve tried to be plastic bag free for a little over a year now. I carry a Chico Bag…a nylon bag that scrunches up into a small ball (www.chicobag.com) … and I’ve trained John to do the same. He’s so scared of me that now, when he forgets his bag, I’ve seen him walk through the door with an armful of groceries!

And yet even bringing your own bag is not enough. There are those establishments that insist you take their plastic, whether you want it or not.

For instance, the grocery store likes to put your meat into small plastic bags to protect leakage. At Subway (not the greenest place to begin with), my sandwich always seems to wind up in plastic before I can say anything. And then there is the dry cleaner.

I dropped my clothes off this week and asked them not to put plastic over my clothes after they were cleaned. It was an organic dry cleaner, so I didn’t think this would be a big deal.

The girl behind the counter looked at me, confused. I kept explaining what I wanted. Her manager made his way over to me. I pleaded my case again and he nodded.

Two days later, I picked up my clothes and, of course, they were covered in plastic.

I saw the same, nodding manager and told him that I had asked for no plastic. He ripped the plastic off and threw it away. I shrieked, “No! The idea was to spare the plastic, not throw it away.” He walked away, still nodding.

I stood there for a moment and asked the counter girl for the plastic the nodding man just threw away. Now she was really confused. I politely but firmly reached around the counter, pulled it out of the trash and left.

Now I was stuck with a giant piece of plastic, which, instead of going into a landfill or the ocean, was going into my apartment. It can’t be recycled and can’t be reused...unless I want the grocery store to wrap a side of beef or Subway to encase a six-foot sub in it.

Don't Give It 2 Me

Last Sunday, I went to Madonna’s Sticky & Sweet concert at Madison Square Garden. A tour that has made headlines not only for its amazing show, but also for its very sticky, not-so-sweet carbon footprint.

Apparently, each show leaves a stiletto-sized footprint that crosses over the borderline into 1,500 tons of not-so-vogue emissions – the equivalent of what 160 material girls create in a year!

This image went in and out of my head as I made the trek up the 10 flights of escalators that brought us to our seats.

We arrived early so we decided to get something from the concession stand. We knew getting anything healthy or green would be next to impossible, so we ordered two bottled waters. (I know, I know . . .)

I try to avoid plastic bottled anything, especially H20. With the amount of fossil fuels it takes to make bottles, the fact that most bottles end up as part of a floating island in the Pacific or in landfills with no hope of ever decomposing, not to mention the possibility of plastic leaching into my water…it’s not for me.

I forgave myself because I could at least take the bottles home and recycle them.

And then I saw the woman taking out two paper cups. “No!” I shouted. “We don’t use paper cups!” She stared at me. “We have to pour the water into the cup.”

John whispered, “Can we just go?” He knew where this was going. We were going to get thrown out of the Garden with nothing to show for our night but two plastic bottles.

But I couldn’t help myself. What possible good reason was there for pouring bottled water into a paper cup?

So I asked.

“People throw the bottles at the stage,” she said in disgust.

Are you kidding me? So not only are we hurting the planet, we’re hurting the performers too? What has this world come to? Madonna fans have gone from striking a pose to striking Madonna?

In shame, I took my unwanted paper cup with its hated plastic lid and went back to my seat. I drank some of the water as the cup began to get weak and the lid unsecure.

The show began and I put the paper cup in the back of my head for later guilt and pondering. It was time to enjoy my $65 ticket.

We reached the point of the show where she shows her “Get Stupid” video, a montage of explosions of war and Mother Theresa, Obama and McCain and, of course, our beautiful planet earth. It was at this point that I accidentally kicked the paper cup.

I looked down at it as Madonna chanted, “Get Stupid!”

I felt like I already had. I appreciated the video, but I would have preferred not to be part of the giant carbon footprint. (Or to have my foot soaking wet from the $5 water)

 

The Water Runneth Over

I remember this short film from an episode of Sesame Street. It was a split screen. Each side showed a faucet with a bowl underneath it and a boy ready to brush his teeth.

On the left, the boy turned the water on, wet his toothbrush, turned the water off and began brushing, only turning the water back on to rinse.

On the right, the boy brushed away while the water ran.

The camera then panned over to the first kid's bowl. There was barely any water in it.

On the right, the bowl was overflowing.

But lately, I've had to question whether I was on the left or the right.

I was conscientious of my water usage, but what did it matter if I gave one more swoosh of the toothbrush in my mouth before I turned the water off?

Apparently, it does matter.

As it becomes clearer that so many of the earth's resources, like fresh water, are finite, it is important to take steps now to preserve what we do have so as not to leave our grandchildren with a crisis.

These days, I'm very careful about how long I let the water run. I bought a 5-minute timer for my shower and I soap up all my dishes before I turn the water on to rinse. If my kitchen were bigger than a walk-in closet, I would probably invest in an energy efficient dishwasher (only running it when it's full, of course).

So you can imagine how it drives me crazy to see store owners and apartment building workers hose down the sidewalks...especially when it's about to rain.

And I have a physical reaction when I see women in the restrooms let the water run while they dry their hands. Most notably...Miss Niagra Falls.

She works on our floor. Everyone knows her. Even the non-greenies in my office will come back from an encounter with her in the bathroom and roll their eyes in disgust.

The other morning I was in the bathroom and I heard the water turn on. I knew it was her. I could tell by the angry way the water was pouring out. Forceful. Hot. I emerged from the stall and there she was...standing there, looking at herself in the mirror, drying her hands, slowly...carefully...water running.

I went to the sink and washed my own hands. I tried to control myself. I really did. But it was too much for me to handle. She might as well have been running her fingers down an aquatic chalk board.

I contemplated the repercussions of saying something.

But instead, I turned my faucet off, walked over to her sink and shut off the water. As she stared at me half in shock, half pissed off, I threw my towel away and quickly exited.

I felt shaky as I left and went out of my way to avoid that bathroom for a few days. But I soon decided to face her again. Now when I see her, she's cautious but friendly and she usually waits for me to leave before turning the faucet on.

Maybe I made my point.

Now I'm thinking of going up to one of those shop owners or apartment guys and asking them to turn off their hoses.

Or maybe I'll just do it for them.

Clean Shower Technology

I watched the VP debate last week and to my dismay, both candidates voiced support for clean coal technology.  I expected this from Mrs. "Global Warming Isn't Man Made," but I was surprised to hear it from Joe Biden.   This technology basically consists of washing the coal and storing the carbon by-products.  OK, it's a little more complicated.  But no less harmful.

Cleaning coal was about the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard of.  Until I was faced with an even bigger challenge.

Cleaning my bathroom.

    

When I decided to go green, I changed out all of my chemical cleaners with earth-friendly ones. I felt so good that I was no longer exposing myself, my husband or my dog to harsh chlorines and bleaches.  My counters smelled like grapefruits and melons; my mirrors sparkled with scents of fresh rain; and my shower was . . . moldy.

I know!  It's gross.  But my bathroom gets no natural light, so once you shut it down for the day, it becomes a mold playground.  I tried a "healthy alternative" spray called Daily Shower, but it didn't work. I tried cleaning it more frequently, but that didn't seem to be cutting it either. And my latest cleaner was a summer cucumber-scented failure.  

So I caved.   I went out and bought something I swore I would never buy.

Tilex.

The guilt consumed every inch of me as I put it in my reusable shopping bag.  What a hypocrite! Even the bag screamed at me, "What are you doing??"  

I got home and pulled out the nasty bottle, flung open the shower curtain and got to work. I sprayed till the bottle was almost empty. I didn't even rinse and the grout was already turning white.

Then my nose started to burn.

I had to escape.  The fumes were gagging me.  John evacuated his office with a shriveled up nose.  We flung open the windows but to no avail.  We decided to get Bailey out of there.   When we came back an hour later, the whole building smelled like the city pool on 23rd Street.

It took days for the smell to go away.  I could only imagine what it was doing to our brain cells, let alone the pipes, ground water, and whatever else it touched.  However, the shower head, tub and curtain remained mold-free.

I'm investigating better, greener alternatives.  Meanwhile, before any candidate thinks about committing our country to clean coal technology, I suggest they come up with a safe, environmentally friendly way to clean my shower.