Rox and Roll

Duck! I'm blogging while angry!

Over the last few days, I've been engaged in a bit of Facebook brouhaha on my mom's page.  Because both mom and I grew up in West-by-God-Virginia, we have more than a few people on our "friend" list with whom we probably couldn't have a civil, verbal conversation over politics.  Cushioned by the space of the internet, we are emboldened to engage on occasion. 

To that end, Mom posted this op-ed about the bankrolling of the Tea Party on her page.  I loved the piece, as it exposed what every intelligent person already knew: the Tea Party is far from a populist movement but, rather, is financed by extremely wealthy, old, white men.  (Yawn.)  These sugar daddies are, in my opinion, exploiting stupid people for financial gain.  I mean, seriously, does anyone actually think that any of Fox's so-called "news" is real?  Rupert Murdoch gives a soapbox to the most confrontational, bigoted idiots he can find in order to do one and only one thing: line his pockets.  He doesn't give a flying fig if you actually want to "be the change you wish to see in the world" (sorry Gandhi!) -- and he knows his demographics.  Get some people to scream about "God" and "taking our nation back" and lo!  Viewers!  And then, if you're lucky, you'll get people like mom's friend Bert repeating it, telling people "it's the gospel truth!  I heard it on Fox News!"  They call it a media "empire" for a reason, and Murdoch is definitely its soulless bastard of an emperor.

Anyway [end rant], with regard to Mom's friend Bert: In response to the NYT piece, Bert writes crap like this: "As a Christian I think the first or at least one of the first tenets is that man is made in the image of God. Abortion then, ranks as an abomination along with homosexuality and some other stuff; it is a demonic mocking of God's order and I think the day will come when America will be required to pay for this sin; perhaps Obama has ushered in that day." 

I know, WTF does this have to do with billionaires backing the Tea Party?  It's Obfuscation 101.  In later rants, Bert adds: "Democracy always leads to the dictatorship."  Now, that's a gem.  He goes on and on about homosexuals who can gain access to heaven only if they're celibate and adds: "you progressives are trying to destroy Christianity in much the same way you're determined to destroy the country."

That's me, right there, in a nutshell.  I'm determined to bring down both Jesus Christ himself and the entire U.S. of A.  Like I said, DUCK!

So here's my problem; here's why I'm blogging while angry: there are a lot of Berts.  Too many.  They are products of a public education system that has failed to teach them good citizenship, and they are products of churches that have bastardized the teaching of Jesus himself.  To Bert, I can't be both a Christian and a Democrat.  (I am both.)  To me, I believe that Jesus himself would be a Democrat, and here's my evidence: he loved lepers, prostitutes, the most downtrodden, but also the tax collectors (c'mon, you know how Democrats LOVE their taxes!) ... He exalted the humble and humbled the exalted.  He didn't say "you won't get into heaven IF" like Glenn Beck's followers do.  He said "love thy neighbor as thyself" (not specifying which neighbors to leave out, like those abortionists and gays that Bert denies) -- and He also said "follow me."  Unlike what I perceive to be a fairly straightforward, open-door invitation from Jesus to join him on faith alone, Bert claims to have a bead on who's going to live in eternity with Christ and who's not.  Frankly, in his book, I'm fairly sure that you can put a stamp on my forehead and mail me straight to hell, because I associate with so many sinners, and Muslims too!  God help me!

How do we stem this tide of know-nothings who are seeking increased political power?  What do they do when they get some?  (And they will.  I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.)

The fact of the matter is that democracy is run by those who show up, and there are more and more Berts showing up.  I'm not afraid of the Tea Partiers in general (I actually think they have some validity -- at least the ones who aren't wearing t-shirts decrying abortion and Islam) -- but I am afraid that people are listening to Glenn Beck, who, IMHO, may actually be the spawn of Satan himself.  How can people not see through his self-aggrandizement, false prophecies, and lies? 

It just makes me so angry, angry that our public schools generally suck (unless you live in a wealthy town like mine where the schools are supported by private foundations -- yet they STILL don't teach basic citizenship!) and angrier yet that so many so-called Christian churches are turning their back on those whom Christ loved as his brothers and sisters.  It'd be easy to take a deep breath and find some comfort that I live in California, the land of Pelosi and Boxer et al.  But we may be about to elect Meg Whitman as Governor, and I'm pretty sure she watches Fox News. 

God help us all, indeed.

GIVEAWAY! Date Night on DVD

My husband ("The Guv") and I recently made an in-home date night out of screening "Date Night."  Right away, the movie struck a familiar chord: the couple, Phil and Claire Foster (played by Steve Carell and Tina Fey), scheduled a regular "date night" with a sitter and find themselves doing the same thing time and time again, eating the same dishes at the same restaurant, blah blah blah boring.  Awakened by some friends' marital difficulties, the Fosters decide to make a better go at it and set off on the craziest "date night" you've ever seen.  The Guv and I chuckled right away, because we can relate: at least 50% of the time we schedule a night out, instead of trying a new venue on our very long list, we retreat to the familiar -- not a bad thing at all, as we're still enjoying each other's company outside of our traditional in-home roles, but far less exciting than trying something new.  The Fosters may have scared us off from venturing outside the norm ever, though...

The knock on the movie is just how far-fetched this date gone awry is, but in the midst of the madness are things with which any "old marrieds" can identify: relying on each other's resourcefulness while at the same time realizing how little you know about what your spouse can do once you step outside "the usual."  In the movie, there's love in the familiar -- and love in the unfamiliar.  Which is better: same-old, same-old, or breaking the mold?  Watch the movie to see how the hysterically funny Carell/Fey team come out on the other side.

In the spirit of the movie, I have to share the Guv's and my "date night" gone awry tale: Back in New Jersey, with two young kids at home, the Guv and I hired a sitter and decided to enjoy an Italian dinner at a familiar place in our town -- a nice place, dimly-lit and cozy.  I wore my new cashmere sweater and a leather jacket, warming up from a chilly fall night as we sat down and enjoyed some drinks before dinner.  The Guv took a swig of his beverage and suddenly coughed, absolutely covering me with Diet Coke... my new cashmere sweater, my jacket, my hair, my face -- covered.  As we were in a booth open to the rest of the room, the restaurant instantly became silent, and then the little girl sitting at a table near us said, "Mommy!  That man just spit on that woman!"  Her eyes throwing daggers our way, the mom took the little girl from the table, saying "let's take a walk away from here for a minute," and sending the manager to our table.  He also suspected trouble, and I don't think he bought my husband's true answer that the whole thing was an accident -- the Guv was recovering from a cold, and the mess couldn't be helped.  I'm pretty sure I had steam coming out of my ears, which didn't help our situation.  We remained for dinner, and I think my only words were: "What would you have done if this were a business dinner?"  The Guv insists the same thing would've happened to someone else.  Who's to say?  We never ate there again.  (In fact, we moved across the country to escape the sordid tales!)

Thanks to 20th Century Fox Home Entertainment, I have TWO copies of "Date Night" on DVD to give away.  For a double entry, tell me YOUR "date night" stories.  The drawing will be conducted on Sunday, September 5 at 9 am PDT.  (That's noon EDT for my East Coast friends.)  I'll contact winners that day.  If winners haven't responsed by Wednesday, September 8, alternates will be chosen.  DVDs are sent directly to you from Fox. 

Thanks for entering -- good luck!

Disclaimer: My family received a free copy of "Date Night" from 20th Century Fox Home Entertainment.  I did not commit to reviewing this movie positively and have not been compensated otherwise for this review.  I'm grateful to Fox for providing me the opportunity to give movies away to my readers -- thanks!

Kindergarten, scmindergarten, and 5th grade, too

Yesterday, Dash and I visited his school for cookies and juice with his kindergarten teacher.  Later that night, I told him "tomorrow is the first day of at least 17 years of schooling for you, probably more, 13 of it more or less mandatory.  What do you think about that?"  His reply?  "I'm fired up.  Can I start right now?"

That's my boy!

So, today, he embarked on that long journey, leaving me with a big smile and a thumbs-up.  He had a great day.  The biggest excitement came when he was able to play with friends from the other classes at recess time.  He also said, "My nice teacher gave me a pencil box with my name on it, and guess what?  It really had pencils in it, and guess what else?  MY OWN WHOLE NEW ERASER!  And some crayons, too, so I drew a picture of myself with a Yankees cap, and a hot air balloon on my head."  He actually did eat his snack (a surprise, if you know Dash), and he's absolutely exhausted, more so than he ever was at preschool.  But just like he left me in the morning, he came out of the classroom with a huge grin and a thumbs-up sign!  I've been laughing all day.  He's so happy to be in school that there's nothing about which I can be sad.  I refuse to be sad about my "baby" growing up when, really, isn't that the goal: to raise them to be this happy and self-sufficient? 

Dash reminded his sister Petunia about 100 times today that "this is my school now too!"  She's in her last year of it, 5th grade, and entered with a bang.  I wish I could show you what she wore, but I don't post pics of my kids here.  She had on a Brit-rock style tee, red and blue with a black guitar and "Girls Rock" graffiti on it, silver sequins at the shoulder, and a plaid skirt to match.  Dangling Hard Rock Cafe guitar peace-symbol earrings completed the rock-and-roll look.  She looked so ... old.  And, truth be told, I pretty much hated her outfit.  But it covered her body, and it was definitely "her" -- fun and a little edgy, a bold look for a bold girl who is so happy pretty much all of the time.  I can't complain that she's growing up when she's growing up this nicely!

As an aside to that, when the Guv and I took Dash to lunch after school, some high school seniors came in, and the girls were all wearing camo, which Petunia would've liked quite a bit ... except that the side of some girls' shirts were slit to the waists with only sports bras underneath and that they were wearing shorts that left nothing to the imagination.  Frankly, I'm no prude when it comes to clothes or even nudity for that matter, but their "look" absolutely appalled me.  I cannot believe that these girls have parents at all, and I also can't believe that our schools have no dress code that you at least have to have your skin somewhat covered!  And I uttered a little "thank you" because Grace would never disrespect herself like that.

So, that's our scoop today: lots of joy, two big kids, and another reason to be thankful for boarding school further on down the road.  Hooray!

You don't want to know from where I'm writing this update ...

... but I'm going to tell you because it's kind of funny, if you're not me.  I'm sitting with a heating pad under my unbelievably sore hamstrings, attached to a nebulizer, and contemplating whether or not the Guv will kick me out of bed if I rub Ben Gay on my pecs. 

So the good news is that I've been cleared to exercise, and I've made good on the necessary promise to make my health my #1 priority.  If my body is stronger, I stand less chance of getting sick to begin with -- and, if I do get sick, stand a better chance of coming through it less scarred.  At the end of the day, my lungs aren't ever going to be perfect again (really, it's "lung," just my left one), so I have to do what I can to keep things from getting worse.  Thus, I've embarked on my journey to become Rox: Strong as an Ox. 

I joined a local gym and hired a trainer who apparently knows more ways to kill me than I know how to die.  OMG, I've never been this hurt in my life.  And one might say, "oh, but it hurts so good," but no, no, no, it doesn't hurt so good, it hurts badly.  The first session, it was my quads and my butt that couldn't function for two days; this week, it's my hamstrings, pecs, and deltoids.  Ouch, ouch, ouch.  The Guv keeps telling me, "it'll get easier," but I think I might die first, and the whole point of this exercise is not dying, right?  RIGHT? 

But I did it to myself.  She said five pull-ups, I gave her ten.  She said ten pushups, I did twenty.  She threw a 20-pound medicine ball at me, and I caught it, then dropped it.  (That thing was too heavy for playing catch!)  If I tell her ten pound weights are good, next time, she doubles it.  Evil Trainer Woman gets it: I feel like I'm fighting for my life, so I need to become Rocky Rox Balboa.  (I would say Roxy, but the last person who called me that is missing her teeth.) 

So I'll see Helga the Dominatrix Trainer every week, and, in between, I'll kickbox and do yoga and try suspension training and boot camp.  This way, I can both stay healthy and beat up people who piss me off.  It's a win-win, no?

Meanwhile, I have posts about The White House Project at BlogHer, and about BlogHer10 itself, and about the BlogHer parties, and the people, and New York, and life lined up ... I'm also launching Rox on a Soapbox (political punditry!) and Good Stuff Rox (reviews and giveaways!) soon, so prepare to be even more entertained. 

'Til then, like Sisyphus, I'll just keep pushing this Rox up that hill.  Stay tuned for two more movie giveaways this week, and a lot more great things to come!

P.S. I love Ben Gay so much I'd like to marry it.

TWO GIVEAWAYS! Percy Jackson & the Olympians AND Diary of a Wimpy Kid on DVD

It's back-to-school time, and, for my almost-10 year-old daughter, that means sleepover time!  She's spending lots of time catching up with friends whom she missed for most of the summer while we were back East.  They're plotting this last year of their elementary career "ruling the school" as 5th graders and talking about middle school already (too soon!).  Thanks to the folks at 20th Century Fox Home Entertainment, she and her friends have been able to enjoy two great movies during these sleeping-and-planning sessions: "Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief" and "Diary of a Wimpy Kid."  Our reviews of these movies follow, and there's a chance for you to win one or both of them at the end of the post!

Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief

Based on the award-winning popular book by Rick Riordan, this Percy Jackson movie chronicles an epic, heroic adventure in which modern and mythical worlds collide.  In the film, Percy Jackson learns he's the son of Poseidon, and he gets caught between a battle of gods when he becomes the prime suspect in the stealing of Zeus's lightning bolt. 

My daughter, Petunia, really enjoys mythology, and this movie delivers big on that front, making myths come to life in a fun way.  She hadn't read the book -- an unusual exception on my part, as I usually require the reading first (like with the Harry Potter series).  According to her friend who watched it with her, the movie deviates a lot from the text -- so much so that it's annoying.  (I heard this complaint from a number of parents who had read the book, too.)  Regardless, they ended up giving the movie positive reviews, especially Petunia, since she lacked the point of comparison.  They deemed it too scary for little brother Dash, though (he's 5), so it seems a good pick for the late-elementary/early-middle school sleepover set.  They noted that "it's not Harry Potter" -- but Petunia added, "but it's not supposed to be, as it's myth-based, not just fantasy."  That said, it does seem to be a movie that the Potter fans would enjoy.

From mom's perspective, the cast was a draw: Uma Thurman, Pierce Brosnan and Rosario Dawson are among the greats joining relative-newbie Logan Lerman as Percy Jackson.  As well, I sought out the books for my daughter, who had labelled them "for boys" before seeing the movie.  Any movie that gets her interested in new books gets the thumbs-up from me!

Diary of a Wimpy Kid

Featuring character Greg Heffley navigating his life in middle school, this movie fit right into our phase of life and scored super-big with both of my kids -- even 5 y.o. Dash loved it!  For anyone who remembers the middle school (which we called junior high) social scene as rife with awkwardness, wedgies, and big plans to overcome it all, this movie is epic.  Based on the book by Jeff Kinney that sprang from a series of on-line cartoons, the movie doesn't venture as far afield from the original book as Percy Jackson does.  Since my daughter read the book(s) before watching the movie, it was nice to see how well-entertained she was by the movie version.

As a parent, the down-side to this series for me involves a few things with which I'm guessing I'll struggle as Petunia reaches middle school: the quest for popularity, evolving notions of friendship, and language, language, language ... I once wrote a post about how my kids can use George Carlin's list of swear words, but they'd better never say "stupid" in my house.  This movie says stupid, and moron, and idiot, and a whole bunch of other not-quite-swear-word insults that I'd rather not hear anyway.  Dash and I had to have a talk about his incorporation of the word "moron" into his vocabulary after this movie -- not cool.  (But not horrible, either ... is it alright to admit that the "funny" outweighs the "bad" for me in this case?!)

All that said, the movie is well-done and pretty darned funny.  It's perfect for the same age-range as Percy Jackson watchers: late-elementary to the first year/two of middle school.  Petunia and Dash have watched it multiple times, so I'm betting it'll be a hit in your house, too.

GIVEAWAY!

If you're interested in owning either "Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief" or "Diary of a Wimpy Kid," leave a comment below, making sure to tell me if you're entering for one title or for both (I'll assume both if you forget).  BONUS: If you share an awkward junior high moment, you double your chance to win!  (I have two copies of each movie to give away, so four in total.)

Since my kids help me review these movies, we don't use an electronic randomizer; we use commenter names in a hat and do the drawing the old-fashioned way -- so there's some trust involved here.  I'll try to remember to take a picture of our methodology this time.  In any event, the drawing will be conducted on Saturday, August 21st, at 8 pm PDT.  (That's 11 pm EDT for my East Coast friends.)  I'll contact winners that night.  If winners haven't responsed by Tuesday, August 24th -- that's our first day of school! -- alternates will be chosen.  DVDs are sent directly to you from Fox. 

Thanks for entering -- good luck!

Disclaimer: My family received free copies of these movies from 20th Century Fox Home Entertainment.  I did not commit to reviewing these movies positively and have not been compensated otherwise for these reviews.  I'm grateful to Fox for providing me the opportunity to give these movies away to my readers -- thanks!

The Gym Decision

Coming off of a year of lung issues, getting the go-ahead to exercise meaningfully again is both a blessing and a curse.  Because I have done it before, I know how good I feel when I work out ... but I also know how much it hurts to get back in the game.  Giving it a lot of thought, I asked around about gyms, and received recommendations for almost all of the local ones from various folks on Facebook. 

During our first year in Silicon Valley, I joined the YMCA and greatly enjoyed it.  It met my #1 requirement: excellent, affordable childcare in a spacious environment that is adequately staffed with great people, since Dash usually would be with me, as his preschool day was very short. The huge gym and terrific class offerings were a bonus.  Plus, I coach Petunia's basketball team there, and Dash took swimming lessons there ... and pretty soon, every time I drove there, it was for something for the kids, and not for me.  So much for that.  Then came my year off with health issues, and I decided that I didn't want to return a place, no matter how great, that had so much going on for kids.  A former employee of the Y told me that their goal is to make the kids happy, because that makes the moms happy, and then the moms bring the dads.  The Y does a great job at that.  But this time, my return to exercise is all about me and my return to strength; the kids' care while I exercise, in case they're with me, is still important, but I'm not signing up for a family experience.

So this time, I set out my priorities as follows: 1) the gym needs to have childcare available all day in case I want to take Dash between when his kindergarten day ends and when Petunia's 5th grade day ends (an almost 3-hour gap -- perfect for fitting in together-time AND a work out without losing "real work" time in the morning while he's at school); 2) no extra draws for kids (pools, teams, etc.) -- I wanted a grown-up-only gym (so that ruled out the YMCA and the JCC); and 3) no driving; I wanted to be able to get there on my bike within 10 minutes or so (so that ruled out the YMCA, the JCC and the beautiful, ne plus ultra Equinox).  

That left the gyms downtown: Reach (the only gym which no one recommended, so I didn't even look), Form Fitness, and Vivre.  (I could've looked at the Four Seasons, too, but I have a downtown bias.) 

I have two good friends who teach at Form and know a lot of moms who go there, so I was biased toward it before even going to visit.  They have a great array of morning classes, the facility is nice and spacious, and there are cool "extras" -- a space where I could use suspension training, for example.  The staff member who showed me around was nice, and I didn't see anything off-putting -- no meatheads on 'roids, for example!  So the pros were: a) it came recommended by people I like, b) it was an easy bike ride from home, c) great classes.  But there were cons: a) very limited childcare hours (ending at noon) in a super-small, overcrowded space with a TV as a focus, b) classes first thing in the morning, but no mid-late morning (like 10/10:30 options), and c) high initiation fee with no perks (one intro training session, but nothing else). 

Then, at Dash's suggestion, we checked out Vivre, "that gym across from Fraiche."  From the moment I stepped in, the vibe was totally different.  It was warm, welcoming, and just totally different from any gym I'd encountered to date.  (I've been a member at Bally's, Gold's Gym, and various others -- never at any boutique gym like this.)  The person who offered to lead me on an impromptu tour let me know that the gym was locally-owned by a family whose friends work out here, so their goal is to make sure that everyone has the same great experience that they seek for their family and friends.  That ethic, to me, makes a world of difference.  It felt a little smaller than Form, but in an intimate, not uncomfortable way.  I toured Vivre at the same time of day as I had toured Form, and, at Vivre, saw more fit people around -- could be a coincidence, but Vivre is the local gym where Steve Young and a host of other retired 49'ers an their wives work out.  After my tour, the GM met me, and he offered a free personal training session before I even decided to join.  (Ummm, what kind of fool would turn that down?!)  So, I went, today.

And yes, I hurt everywhere, having forgotten that I even have hip flexors and that the quadricep has various different places where it can feel stabbing pain.  Embarrassingly, I'm pretty sure that Steve Young himself saw me fall on my a$$ once, but I didn't care: I remembered good form, and I remembered how much I used to love feeling my body work like a machine -- not like the broken machine it's been for the past-year, but, rather, like a well-tuned, finely-oiled, cared-for one.  Dash spent the hour in the TV-free childcare and had an absolute blast. 

At the end of the day, the pros of Vivre won out.  They are: a) childcare hours that go until 7 pm; b) a free training session (or massage, but I'll pick the training!) each month for the first six months as part of membership; c) the free intro session I had today, plus another one to set up my "program;"  d) class times not only at 8:30/9 but also at 10/10:30 -- fewer in number, but greater time options; e) a waived initiation fee; and f) a great vibe -- good karma, all around.  The cons?  (There are some, let's be honest.)  a) more expensive monthly than Form, but, when factoring in the training session per month, it's actually cheaper for six months, b) fewer classes, especially on Flow/barre in which I'm interested, c) no suspension training place, and d) the childcare is teeny-tiny still, but they have an overflow space they can use when necessary, supposedly.

So, I chose Vivre, at least for this year.  When Dash is in full-time school next year (not on this wacky kindergarten schedule), I could pick another option -- and, especially when I'm more fit, I could see myself biking to a grand place like Equinox.  But for now, I get to look at Steve Young while I work out with this Lithuanian trainer who pushes me harder than I'd like but not past my breaking point.  It's all come together quite nicely, and I'm looking forward to returning to fitness in this special place.

The Guv and The Soap

Oh, how I love my husband, the Guv.  I've loved him for over twenty years, through what was left of high school, college, various jobs, two kids, two guinea pigs, a dog, four homes, two apartments, one pizza oven, a not-quite-midlife crisis convertible, you get the drift.  Our life has ebbed and flowed and changed in amazing ways, and it seems like life together just gets better and better...

... except for one thing: travel.

It's not that I don't like traveling with the Guv, because I do, especially if it's without kids and the agita that comes with driving a gazillion hours with both of them in a too-small convertible on a family road trip because the Guv refuses to drive my much-more-comfortable-for-road-tripping minivan.

But that's another post.

The thing about traveling with the Guv is how he tries to Save the Earth through using the bare minimum in hotel products.  If I unwrap a soap in Hotel One, that soap is going to travel with us to Hotel Two, Hotel Three, and Hotel Umpteen until that soap is finished.  And he removes other ones before I can unwrap them, because I have to finish Soap One from Hotel One before I am allowed to unwrap Soap Two from Hotel Two.  Soap Two is "disappeared" before I even notice it's gone.  I cannot have Soap Two, because it's cheating on Soap One, which, if I don't finish it that very trip, will Kill the Earth.

Follow?

[As an aside, you know how Jack Nicholson unwraps about 300 Neutrogena soaps in "As Good As It Gets," uses them once, and throws them away?  Yeah, I'm thinking the Guv is not a Jack Nicholson fan.]

Says the Guv, "If hotel products aren't completely used, they are thrown out.  And throwing out even a mere sliver of remaining soap is unconscionable, unthinkable, unimaginable, ad un-eco-freako" -- or something like that.  And so, if you open the cabinet below our bathroom sinks, you will find approximately 5,942 unopened hotel soaps -- because The Guv also takes the wrapped ones, because he once heard that they even throw out unopened ones between visitors.  I am no longer allowed to buy him his old favorite Lever, which I really loved to smell on his freshly-washed skin.  He uses hotel soap, soap that will outlive, outplay, and outlast us all, because no human being could ever use that much soap. He says he'll use them for the gym... you know, the gym at his office that he uses maybe weekly after a super-early morning conference call, after which he comes home to shower... home, where he uses hotel soap, which means the saving-it-for-the-gym-thing isn't really working.  He says he's saving money.  He may be saving the earth and money, but, clearly, he is not saving my sanity, because the problem is that, with rare exception, I really don't like hotel soap.  I don't like the way it smells, I don't like its waxiness -- not even the good stuff -- and I don't like its littleness.  So, we're at an impasse: I'll buy my Lush body wash and Dove sensitive skin bar soap and use them both in one shower.  (Ouch! says the Earth.)

So, anyway, this vacation, I had a plan.  He recently brought home soap I actually like: EO.  I took three cakes of it, one for each hotel switch.  We could all use it and then leave it behind at the end, right?  RIGHT? 

No.  EOS1 (that would be EO Soap One) followed us from Hotel One to Hotel Two then back to Hotel One for Stay Three.  (I didn't follow that either, but the point is that the soap followed us.) 

I can be zen about this.  At least I used the soap I like.  And the Guv dried it and rewrapped it so carefully between stays that it wasn't gooey and gnarly.  And really, if he wants to take that on, I shouldn't object. 

What I will do, though, is go through the cabinets under our sinks and donate at least half of what's stacking up down there.  I'll have to open each soap to make sure that it's one that he hasn't used and saved for later, because that happens a lot.  He says it's his way of Saving the Earth.  I think he's trying to kill me. 

P.S. I'll resuscitate with Starbucks hotel-pack coffee, because we have dozens of those, too, because we're saving the earth, and coffee farming, and my coffee budget, one foil-pack at a time. 

P.P.S. Please don't think I'm being mean to the Guv.  He vets all of my posts, and, noting my anxiety about the soap following me, he actually suggested this one.  Isn't he a keeper?!