20 March 2011

Post 358: Plastic

Plastic: A Toxic Love Story by Susan Freinkel. ISBN: 978547152400 (eGalley - Publishes April 18, 2011).

I've always kind of hated plastic bags. It's almost visceral how much I hate them. Reading this book didn't so much tell me why I hate plastic bags, so much as it put those feelings into words for me. I hate them because they are everywhere and they get everywhere and there is pretty much no way to get rid of them once you have accumulated them.

And yes, I am one of those people that collects plastic bags. It drives me crazy because I don't feel like I can just throw them out. They are disgusting are annoying pieces of trash, but a lot of energy went in to making them, and the idea of throwing something away that I've only used once for non-hygiene purposes bothers me to no end. But then I end up with a cabinet full of plastic bags that I can't possibly use as fast as I obtain more. Certainly I use the reusable bags whenever possible, or just skip bags altogether, but the convenience, oh that seemingly convenient inconvenience that plastic bags provide.

It is so much easier to walk into the store with nothing and walk out of the store loaded down with those flimsy diaphanous puffs of white bag loaded down with even more plastic packaging containing my food or other recently purchased products. How wonderful it seems when I am walking the 60-100 feet from storefront to car, and really not even that if I'm using a shopping cart. Sometimes their usefulness is only really from cart to trunk and then the very short walk from my parking space to my apartment (look Ma, no stairs!). Honestly, in the situations where I go to the grocery and forget my reusable bags, I could easily just ask the bagger/cashier to put them directly in the cart. When I get home it is not overly difficult to run in and get a bag for that short transport from car to refrigerator. So why don't I do it? Because it's easier. And so I am stuck with more plastic bags than I know what to do with and a cat who poops in volumes, but not enough to fill all of those bags.

You know, I kind of miss paper bags. They might have taken up more space to transport,etc. but they take up less space under the kitchen sink. They are easier to reuse as long as they don't get wet. I miss the smell of them. People talk about missing the smell of books; shopping just doesn't feel the same with plastic bags. Paper had this sort of dark earthy smell to it. Even though my fruit often came in its own plastic, it felt a bit like pulling something out of the earth when I removed it from that dark, crinkly bag.

And we were more likely to reuse them too. There were infinite uses for paper bags. Not only were they convenient as small trash bags or even temporary trash cans, but we often used them to wrap presents after designing our own wrapping paper with stamps and markers. My mother frequently used paper bags to make sewing patterns that were far more sturdy and durable than the flimsy ones provided by the pattern companies. We used them as book covers for my textbooks (why buy them?). They were used as shelf paper, they were way better than newspaper for drying wet shoes, and often they were more fun to draw or color on than regular paper.

Apparently paper bags are just as bad or worse than plastic, but when you're done with a plastic bag... It really only has one more use: bathroom/small trash bag or Pet poo collector.

My review can be found at Goodreads.
LibsNote: Free review copy provided by Netgalley.
There's a great blog that was mentioned in this book about a woman who is trying to eliminate her use of plastic and has greatly reduced her use. Read about it at My Plastic-free Life (formerly Fake Plastic Fish).

19 March 2011

Post 357: Plastic

Plastic: A Toxic Love Story by Susan Freinkel. ISBN: 978547152400 (eGalley - Publishes April 18, 2011).

Freinkel did an interesting experiment in which she wrote down everything she touched that was plastic in a day. It's quite illuminating. In fact, I've probably touched about 20 items made of plastic or that have plastic components and it's only 10AM. Here's my list, in no particular order:
  • Pillow (filled with poly-fibers)
  • Coverlet
  • Pajama pants
  • T-shirt
  • Underwear
  • Menstrual pad (sorry, but it's honest)
  • Toilet seat
  • Tooth brush
  • Toothpaste tube
  • Hair tie
  • Coffee grinder
  • Coffee pot
  • Cell phone (aka alarm clock)
  • Birth control pill packaging
  • Plastic coated box for a day-by-day calendar
  • Kitchen counter
  • Trashcan
  • Carpet
  • Linoleum floor
  • Nail polish (my fingernails are painted at the moment)
  • The Wall (and anything else painted)
  • This computer and its cords

This is only after about an hour of being awake and most of those I touched before I even got out of bed. There are some days where I wake up and I reach for my eReader and don't move unless I have to pee. There are things I'm probably leaving off just because I forgot I touched them or I touched them with something other than my hands and therefore I was less aware of it. If I had taken a shower this morning or eaten breakfast I would have increased the number of things I touched drastically. There would have been the refrigerator, the bath tub, my shampoo and conditioner bottles it comes in, my hair brush, my towel, the shower curtain.

Plastic is in almost everything we touch and interact with, yet only 80 years ago that wasn't true. It is amazing how invasive and adaptable plastic is. And if you asked me which of the objects I mentioned earlier that I feel most guilty about, I would actually have to say my birth control pills.

I don't feel guilty taking them: it's been a blessing not to worry as much about pregnancy and to have shorter and more reliable cycles. But I have always hated how much plastic packaging goes into providing me with reliable birth control. Not only am I given the punch out cardboard/aluminum foil/plastic pack, but every time I fill my script I am also given a brand new sleeve of plastic to keep them in. Those sleeves come with new warning labels on them (made of plastic) and come in a plastic resin coated paper bag with more stickers inside so I can change the days of the week to accurately reflect my pill schedule.

I will say that the off-brand packaging is slightly better than the original Orthotricyclen dial packs (in that awful shade of vaguely flesh-tone pink). At least the plastic sleeves are a little less obvious, a little more travel friendly, and I can tear them up and use the sheets that don't have my prescription info as book marks. But it's still not great. I wish they didn't automatically give me a plastic sleeve when I fill my script, because I really don't need it. Having one is nice, but having 12 is just unnecessary.

I would potentially feel guilty about my cell phone, since the industry encourages us to get a new one every few years, but I've had mine for about 4 years now. I haven't even had to replace the battery yet. It looks crappy, and it has no other function than as a phone,* but I spent $90 on it with the corporate expectation** that I would only use it for a year. There's something wrong with that.

How much plastic have you touched within the first hour or so of your morning? Is there something you feel especially guilty about owning or using? Or do you just not think about it?

My review can be found at Goodreads.
LibsNote: Free review copy provided by Netgalley.
*Okay AND an alarm clock, timer, and very clunky calculator.
**My editor asked me to clarify what I mean by corporate expectation. It means that there is the expectation that the technology will be out-of-date or irrelevant and/or that consumers would want a new phone regardless of the continued functionality of their current model. This mostly applies to electronics, but we see this pattern in car buying and clothing as well.

18 March 2011

Post 356: The Abused Werewolf Group

The Abused Werewolf Group by Catherine Jinks. ISBN: 9780152066154 (eGalley- publihses April 4, 2011).

There were a couple of moments in this book that I really didn't like. I could talk about a number of them, like how Toby tuned out a doctor because he didn't understand how information about epilepsy was relevant to him, or the moment where Toby's friend asks why they don't just leave their dirty laundry for his mom to do, or how epilepsy and/or having seizures would be great because you could get away with anything...

Instead I'm going to talk about how Toby at least on some level thinks that certain groups of people are "asking" for harassment or bullying. Yep, Toby is just the greatest. Since the book isn't out yet I can't quote exactly, and keep in mind it may not appear in the final version, but the gist of the scene was Toby has just woken up in the hospital after being found in a dingo pen. The police have come to ask Toby questions about what happened, Toby doesn't remember anything, so the police suggest that maybe he has a enemy at school or someone who pulled a prank on him. Toby denies this, and then goes on in his narrative to say he's not a geek or a nerd or one of those other groups that is a "natural born target".

*Sigh.* I guess I can't blame Toby for thinking this way, because throughout the book he is a very self-centered 13-year-old boy, but I can be upset by his mentality and the problems surrounding it. No one is a natural born target. In order to become a target, someone has to be aiming at you and only assholes, murderers, and war criminals target people. I think I was particularly upset to read this little bit of victim blaming mentality because of the incident that happened recently in Cleveland, Texas. I just want to say something, because apparently people just don't understand:

Nobody. NOBODY wants to be raped, harassed, threatened, abused, beaten, or otherwise physically, mentally, or emotionally harmed no matter how they act, dress, who they love, or any other qualities or attributes they might have.

If you have ever caught yourself thinking that anyone deserved harm who had not first caused harm to others, then you need to seriously rethink exactly why you have those thoughts and feelings. Because you may not think you sound like a crazy person, but you are going down that path. And no one wants to end up sounding like this.* / **

My review can be found on Goodreads.
LibsNote: Free review copy provided by Netgalley.
*I don't have a problem with prayer, I have a problem with the idea that God KILLING PEOPLE because they are atheist somehow makes him a GOOD and AWESOME God and that it is something we should ask him to do. 
**edit: Supposedly this is someone who made a trolling video. Personally, I didn't think it was funny, and I find it suspicious that she was not upfront about her activities before being harassed. 

17 March 2011

Post 355: The Abused Rescue Werewolf Group

The Abused Werewolf Group by Catherine Jinks. ISBN: 9780152066154 (eGalley- publihses April 4, 2011).

When I think of an Abused Werewolf Group I think of people getting together in a church basement, drinking subpar coffee, and whining about how much it sucks to be a werewolf. I envisioned people talking about how hurt they were when their spouse hit them with a rolled up newspaper after sniffing well...what dogs sniff. Or maybe how someone just couldn't help the urge to chase a car and ran after it for six blocks before the owner of the car pulled over and threatened to run the werewolf down.

Perhaps I watch too many bad movies. I mean, I grew up on stuff like My Mom is a Werewolf and Teen Wolf. I kind of expect camp from a title like this, and I was disappointed when it didn't have any.

Unfortunately, it seems the paranormal has been co-opted by the YA/romance brigade. Vampires and werewolves have to be sexy, or in the case of this particular novel they're presented as just being regular people...most of the time. In some ways I wish I could point a finger and blame one particular author for the demise of the monster genre, but it's just not true. Certain authors have done horrible things to the quality of writing in today's YA market, but that's a completely different bitchfest. Instead I would say that movies have actually done the most harm to the literary genre.

I know, right? Movies always ruin books. Well, not really; there have definitely been some adaptations that I haven't completely hated, and some that I've even preferred. But movies have made Monsters less scary over the years.

Much of this is due to the limited technical abilities: camera, lighting, make up, etc. It is hard to make a convincing and scary monster when you're limited to grandma's old fur coat, some grease paint, and a crummy camera. There are certainly some excellent early werewolf and other Monster movies out there, but let's face it, there aren't as many as there are cheesy Double Feature make-out movies. Those of course evolved into the campy monster movies and B-films. Now instead of running away from our monsters we're too busy falling in love to remember that the whole point of them is remind us of how monstrous humanity can be. We always did like the bad boys, I just wish we weren't so enamored with the man-eaters.

My review can be found on Goodreads.
LibsNote: Free review copy provided by Netgalley.

16 March 2011

Post 354: Rage

Rage by Jackie Kessler. ISBN: 9780547445281 (advanced reader copy - publishes April 8, 2011).

Yesterday, I mentioned that I probably would have been very attuned for the role of War at the age of 16. Today, I am obviously quite a different person. My hormones have settled, and are also maintained to some degree by birth control pills. While I may not be able to control my emotions as much as I like, I do have a lot more control over my reactions and the way I process those emotions than I did as a teenager.

If I had to choose which horseman to be today, I would probably lean more towards Pestilence. This might seem a strange choice, but out of all of them it would at least allow for a chance for some of the population to survive in a more even manner. Famine might allow for some survivors as well, but only whoever can afford food. Pestilence is a little more equal. Pestilence can hit the wealthy and the poor, the black and the white, the educated and the ignorant with more or less the same force. Depending on the disease the have-not group may even be in a better position to survive it, therefore upsetting the social order and allowing for change or improvements in society that never would have happened otherwise.

It just seems that there are more positive aspects to Pestilence than there are to War or Famine, yet it is still a somewhat proactive component of the Apocalypse. I imagine when I'm older, just being Death will be right up my alley. But the inevitability of it seems a little too bleak for me just now. While the other three offer some means of avoiding or overcoming their grasp, everyone faces Death. I'm just not at the stage of my life where I'm willing to cut anyone down completely. No matter how dire my personal circumstances seem to me, I think other people have a good chance at making a worthwhile life for themselves.

My review can be found on Goodreads.
LibsNote: Free ARC provided by publisher via Netgalley.

15 March 2011

Post 353: Rage

Rage by Jackie Kessler. ISBN: 9780547445281 (advanced reader copy - publishes April 8, 2011).

When I was about Missy's age (16) and a little bit younger I had some major anger issues. I was pretty much a bottle of anger waiting to explode and I pretty much had no outlet to get rid of it. At school I wasn't allowed to get up and leave when these fits of anger surged through me and when I was at home I wasn't really allowed to do much of anything while my brother was around.

Unfortunately, I never knew when my anger would surge, which was when it usually got me into trouble. Most of the time it would hit me during class when I would have the overwhelming need to hit someone, something, anything. These urges were often inexplicable. I would just have the urge to be violent and I wanted to yell and scream until it passed. It usually did after a few minutes regardless of whether or not I actually screamed or hit anything, but for those moments I was unable to concentrate on anything else. My breathing increased, my heart rate increased, and I had to literally grip my seat or desk in order not to reach out and punch my closest classmate.

At home this got me into more trouble. At the time my brother was still living with us, so he would actually provoke me into these fits of rage. He seemed to know exactly how and when he could do it, and I would completely lose my shit. All higher brain functions just completely shut off and there was nothing to stop me from yelling and screaming, and there were occasions when I had no choice but to hit him back when he was physically provoking me.

I'm no longer quite that angry, and in fact the rages that came over me faded almost as soon as I got out of the public school and my brother was sent to live with my father. It came back as passive-aggression when my mother and I moved from Alabama to Mississippi and I was once again in with the general population, but I no longer had quite the same reaction. I don't know if other people had these super aggressive urges when they were going through puberty, but I like to think that at least a large enough population does that we ought to be worried about it. If I had had even a sliver less of self control, someone could very easily have been hurt.

I think we especially need to see if other girls are feeling this way, because we aren't encouraged to be angry or aggressive. The fact that I was having these feelings was very confusing for me because I hadn't been taught how to cope with them. It really felt like someone or something else was taking over my body and I had absolutely no control. I wonder how many other teenagers are going through this right now and don't know how to talk about the subject. I know it was probably the number one reason I yelled at my mother that she didn't understand me when I was growing up. And maybe she wouldn't have. I have absolutely no idea if she had these rages hit her or not, I don't even know if my friends had them. For all I know I was just completely psycho when I was 14-17.

But yeah, I definitely would have gotten behind the role of War at that age if I had been tapped to be a rider of the Apocalypse.

My review can be found on Goodreads.
LibsNote: Free ARC provided by publisher via Netgalley.

14 March 2011

Post 352: The Lovely Bones

The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold. ISBN: 9780759527737 (eBook).

Lindsey is the sister of Susie, who was murdered at the beginning of the book. She's taking it hard, because the rest of her family is taking it hard and murder isn't exactly something that's easy to get over. In fact, most violent crime is pretty difficult to cope with, even when there isn't a death involved.

About six months after Susie is murdered, Lindsey goes to summer camp. During Summer Camp For Smart People, there is an annual competition. This year the theme is "Commit the Perfect Murder." This begs the question, how sensitive should we be when creating games or competitions like this? Granted, no harm is meant with these kind of things, but invariably it will cause some distress to people who have lived through violent crimes or had close friends or family members who have been victims.

For instance, there's a radio station that does weekly "Office Muggings" in which they surprise an office with mugs and other goodies. But is the use of the word mugging really appropriate? A lot of people have been mugged, and it's a very distressing experience that comes with a lot of residual pain. I'm not sure I would personally be okay having someone come into my work place and yelling, "THIS IS A MUGGING!" when I had previously lived through a version in which I was held at gun point.

But...there are games like Clue, which involve solving a murder. There are even murder mystery games that are occasionally hosted by libraries or other organizations in which the murders are actually reenacted (they often get someone to play the corpse/victim). This is good clean fun for most people, but it is a little insensitive. And do we really need these games, etc. to be focused on violent crimes? Why can't we focus instead on theft? Granted, that still ruins lives, but is not quite so personal. How much responsibility do we have to other people to consider what they may have survived and to not cause distress? Our world is too big to know everything about everyone, no matter how hard we try. Do we do our best to prevent distress, or do we go ahead with our plans and apologize later if someone is offended/hurt by it?

On a completely unrelated note, Happy Pi Day!

Great review over at Publisher's Weekly. As a note, I mostly liked this except for one spoiler-ish scene which ruined my dispensation of belief.
LibsNote: Library copy checked out via Overdrive Media.

13 March 2011

Post 351: The Lovely Bones

The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold. ISBN: 9780759527737 (eBook).

The interesting thing about having Susie (the murdered girl) as narrator is that she was cut off in the midst of her adolescence. She had just had her first kiss and was looking forward to high school and the possibility of college. Susie becomes engrossed in the life of her family, as well as the first and only boy she kissed.

Many of us remember the importance of our first kiss, and I imagine if I had been killed shortly after receiving it, I might be inclined to pay attention to the person I shared it with. As it is I don't really dwell on it much. To be honest, my first kiss was not as special as it could have been. But maybe there's an upside to that too. I sort of wonder if the emphasis of the first kiss has been, well, overemphasized. Certainly it is a right of passage and an important marker towards adulthood (for some anyway, I was 10 for my first close-lipped and 13 for my first French kiss). But does it need to be a life shattering event?

The truth is, most people are going to have regrets about their first kiss. The chances of it being perfect with the perfect person are really, really slim. We can stack the odds in our favor by ensuring that it's someone we at least like and respect and will hopefully continue to like and respect in the future, but the thing about the first kiss is that it happens when we are young. And our young selves are incredibly stupid and lacking in judgment.

Having said all that, even though my first kiss wasn't all that special, I don't really regret the way it happened. I don't have to dwell over Tommy Nextdoorneighborton for the rest of my life, wishing I could punch his face in or have another kiss like my first. No matter how many good moments I had with past boyfriends, my present and future partner(s) deserve the opportunity to create good moments with me as well. Holding up the "first" as a particularly special moment seems completely arbitrary.

Not that I'll hold it against you if you're particularly fond of your first kiss. But I think it should be special for its own merits and not because of its place in line.

Great review over at Publisher's Weekly. As a note, I mostly liked this except for one spoiler-ish scene which ruined my dispensation of belief.
LibsNote: Library copy checked out via Overdrive Media.

12 March 2011

Post 350: The Caveman's Valentine

The Caveman's Valentine by George Dawes Green. ISBN: 9780759542099 (eBook).
"Hemorrhoids. Cockroaches. And Warts. Lonely nights. Smoking's ravages. AIDS. All the ads promised relief from these things, but where was the relief from these ads?" Page 112*
The crazy man asks a good question. Ads are so prevalent in our lives that they have to shout louder and be ever more invasive just to get our attention. We even have ads showing up on our social media sites, not just as sidebars, but as actual profiles where they try to "connect" with us. Maybe...just maybe advertising has gone too far.

Don't get me wrong, I love learning about new products and what not, but I also miss the days when a man had no idea what the hell Vagasil was because they only advertised in women's magazines. If you ask me, those were good days. And really, I don't need to know about erectile dysfunction. Grandpa having sex is of no concern to me and really, I'd rather not be reminded about it on the rare occasion I catch the news.

And let's talk more about Facebook. I do follow certain companies on Facebook because often it's a good way to get information about specials or deals or sometimes even hiring opportunities, but then there are the companies that try to present a persona to you and don't give more information about their products. For a while I was following a national pizza chain and pretty much every post was "I'm watch Jersey Shore tonight and having pizza. I'm watching American Idol. Gee that thing with Kanye West sure was funny, I laughed so hard I almost threw up on my pizza!"

Look, it's great that you want to try and connect with your customers on a more personal level, but tell me more about your product. I already know I like eating pizza and watching TV at the same time, what I don't know is that you donated X amount to charity or that one of your pizza delivery guys has put over 100,000 miles on their car in under three years delivering pizza. These things are a little more relevant and little more interesting. I stopped following that particular company because I wasn't learning anything from their ads.

Maybe I wouldn't have such a problem with their prevalence in my life if they weren't trying to sell me something without actually telling me why their product and/or company is better. How many times do I have to sit through an ad and wonder what the hell it's for before the logo actually flashes on the screen? It might be nice if advertisers were actually required to include relevant information in their ads. Don't have anything new to say about your product? Well...maybe we don't really need to hear about it.

I have to say, with as little TV as I watch and the adblockers on my internet browser, I am very rarely overwhelmed with advertising when I'm in a familiar situation. I don't know how people get through a regular day being bombarded by advertising from TV, radio, internet, buses, and all the rest. I get tired just thinking about all the bright colors and screaming. Oh hey, you think they'll ever put ads in leased eBooks? Yeah, that'd be fun.

Good review over at the LA Times. Sorry bloggers, I just liked this one better than anything else I found.
LibsNote: Copy checked out from the library via Overdrive Media.
*For eBook page numbers I use what is listed on the digital page if available. Otherwise I refer to the page bar at the bottom of my eReader.

11 March 2011

Post 349: The Caveman's Valentine

The Caveman's Valentine by George Dawes Green. ISBN: 9780759542099 (eBook).

There is something distressing in realizing that I have more in common with a homeless person than with someone who can afford three houses, expensive cars, and accessories that cost more than my entire wardrobe. Many people seem to be under the impression that homeless people are lazy or stupid. This often isn't the case. While I haven't made it a habit of knowing hundreds of homeless, working or spending a great deal of time in a library tends to bring more encounters than usual.

They do run the range from Caveman crazy to just obviously homeless, but otherwise quiet. The latter you might mistake for a regular person, except for the disheveled appearance and overwhelming stench. A few of the people I have known to be homeless are actually very intelligent, some even having doctorate degrees. It's just that something went wrong somewhere along the way, and once you're at the bottom it isn't as easy to claw your way back. Making money seems to require having money, and it's awfully hard to get hired when you can't afford an interview suit or a place to take a shower and shave.

This is doubly impossible when you have mental problems factored in. Mentally ill people have a harder time holding a job because they require medications to function anywhere close to normal. Occasionally a certain balance of chemicals will stop working or a person will think hope that they've been cured and they will go off the meds. There are often side effects with these medications that no sane person would want to live with. And so the good periods in their mental health are wiped out and if they were employed they end up having to start all over again.

I sort of feel like employment is my medication, and I have been off of it for way too long. No one's going to give me a job because I don't have a job. It's not that I wanted this to happen. But here I am. And it really feels that I'm only moments from living on the streets.

Meanwhile, people like Charlie Sheen and Lindsey Lohan and Paris Hilton and whoever else can't seem to get rid of their money no matter how hard they try. But that's okay, let them keep that extra couple thousand dollars in taxes, me and the rest of the losers are fine over here.

Good review over at the LA Times. Sorry bloggers, I just liked this one better than anything else I found.
LibsNote: Copy checked out from the library via Overdrive Media.
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