Think Twice About That Education...

I understand that some fields require a specific degree as a passcard, but the more I know about and experience education, the more I think the current system is ineffective for many people.

This article, America's Most Overrated Product: the Bachelor's Degree from The Chronicle has some fascinating statistics and observations about the massive amount of people who bust their butts and drain their savings to earn college degrees – when they probably shouldn’t. It won’t pay off in the long run. Not because an education isn’t valuable, but sometimes it’s not as valuable as those whose hyped-up penchant for an enlightened society would have you believe.

To illustrate, my undergraduate degree in voice performance and comparative literature was a four and a half year pricey musical and literary tryst. There was a piano in every classroom and for final exams I would sing songs, or dress up and put on plays. I used to swoon over graduate assistants spewing over Beethoven and wrote papers about my visions of glistening moonlit pools upon hearing Debussy. I cheered on the academic parade of nonsense being taught: vociferous lesbians whose research exposed the underpinnings of female sexual repression in American folk music, or Buddhist vegan professors devoted to the obliteration of the self through short stories and the study of zen.

What I actually came to accomplish was to learn how to sing, and how to pursue it as a career.

Unfortunately I was too young and inexperienced to realize I wasn’t getting those tools as I romped from class to class. It probably won’t shock anyone that there wasn't a single course offered on the business aspects of a career in music.

I would be remiss to leave readers thinking I felt I learned nothing of value. Quite the opposite, I became drunk on fascinating information and relished each minute of my studies. It was electric to be able to say, "I'm studying to be an opera singer" and rattle off the roles I'd be singing soon. However, studying to be an opera singer is very different from the work of becoming a living, breathing, fiscally solvent performer.

My most valuable education came after I graduated. I experienced the painstaking trial and error of proper vocal study, bargained with my dreams of stardom versus the realities of needing a steady corporate paycheck, moving in with my parents and wondering how I was going to make a satisfying life for myself.

Though my degree was clearly irrelevant, I got an awesome job at a Fortune 500 company and immersed myself in the practical and grounded world of finance. Now I'm halfway through my Master's in Finance, and enjoying every other minute, but I sometimes wonder, what will I be doing with it that I couldn't do without it? I'm sure a lot of what I'm learning I could have gotten climbing corporate ladders, but I'm hoping to skip some rungs, if not get off the ladder all together. I guess time will tell.

I'm grateful for both paths I've taken - so, what’s the lesson?

To be honest, you may not need an education to be successful. While I'm sure my music studies gave me a great phone voice and confidence in front of a room, they weren't the dealbreakers for my job today. Hard work and dedication to learning industry-specific skills were.

I’m not arguing for the hackneyed college drop-out Steve Jobs illustration - he’s an anomaly, and you are not him. But even though we’re not all destined for genius, we can all be destined for success, with or without undergraduate or advanced degrees. I know a man who pulls seven figures. He boasts his less-than-stellar GPA and giggles about how the A students all work for him now. He’s not vindictive, he’s right. Not all career paths warrant a costly education, or academic perfection. I think that if know your shit and work your ass off and you’ll be just fine.

Hoping for a real education? Then Subscribe to Shouting to Quiet the Thunder. That'll learn ya.

History Repeating: What We Need to Know About Rising Gas Prices

Monica O’Brien of Twenty Set wrote an interesting piece on rising gas prices. Instead of foaming at the mouth about Big Government, Big Oil, or The Man, she asked you to look at what rising gas prices say about you.

How are you handling this change? Well I’m going to take her advice and this post is my attempt to shift the curve, not the blame and take a lil’ responsibility for the problem, and hopefully educate and inform. (Monica can I make t-shirts that say that? I’m feeling a trip to Neighborhoodies…)

I think Monica accurately assesses the psychological nature of this conflict. It’s tragic how predictable humans are, and yet we all act like we didn’t see it coming. What am I talking about? Have we learned nothing from The Copper Crisis???

Read this New York Times article from 1901.

Okay, I know you won’t so I’ll just summarize.

In 1901, copper, much like gas today, was being “mismanaged” and “manipulated” by the markets, government, and was in danger of running out. (Sound familiar?) See, copper was experiencing a huge boom as a conductor of electricity. You know how the tech boom in the 2000's saw tons of fiber optic cables being installed? Well, in 1901 the big deal was copper. And because we all thought we couldn’t live without more and more electricity, we all thought it was going to run out and that pandemonium would ensue.

What happened to save us from the terrible plight? Innovation. There are these wonderful people called Scientists, I believe, whose jobs require them to study the properties of all sorts of materials and learn how they interact and how we can use them more efficiently. They learned a way to utilize copper so that instead of huge tubes, they could use fine, delicate wires…and the need for copper use decreased dramatically.

Today, such a notion as running out of copper is laughable when we give away copper pennies, some people I know throw them away! This is not a 180 from the 1901 mentality, it is as if the whole copper nightmare never happened. And I’m going to pull out some Nostradamus-style mad-prophecy skills and predict the fate of oil: it will be the same story.

We are humans. We are the most adaptable species on the planet! Has no one noticed this? We will find a way to reduce or eliminate dependency on oil. We will.

And, wait, it gets better. I have a neat little trick for letting it happen sooner.

But first, watch this YouTube video on How to Write Your Congressman.

Okay, I know you won't, so here's the point:

Write, call, shake, or otherwise encourage your state and federal government representatives to to release the rules and regulations to retro-fit old dinosaur technologies and let companies innovate moving forward. Ask them to stop penalizing companies for EPA or DNR regulations that change on an annual basis which do not reflect the actual needs and functions of businesses. Hint: A company will likely pay a fine before they invest in technology they don't need!

For example, a big difference between automobile and airline companies today is that airlines do not have the same environmental restrictions placed on them by the government. Jet fuel is the only substance that can safely propel you around the world (for now.) But by some miracle, airlines have continued to innovate and create new ways to be efficient without government intervention! Holy crap! Airline manufacturers don't actually need the government to tell them to create more efficient design and technology, because their competition already does it and their customers demand it.

The same is true with automobile companies, but the problem is they run the risk of losing their business to government fees for non-compliance before they run the risk of being out-innovated by another company.

In case you weren't sure how to feel: this is total bullshit, by the way.

But, I'm not blaming the government. I'm blaming myself. For not doing enough to get the word out about how bloated and ineffective such structures are. So, that's going to change with this post, and more to follow!

And if you made it this far down the rant, you'll definitely want to subscribe to Shouting to Quiet the Thunder. I've got more where this came from.

Afraid of Change? Don’t Worry, You Won’t Feel a Thing

We fear the pain of change like a child who first visits the Doctor’s office. He imagines he will be impaled Count Dracula style by a huge needle, rather than the barely perceptible sting when the nurse surprises him with a pin-prick.

We fear change in its anticipated, not actual, effects. Penelope Trunk has written of the importance of making a choice, any choice, whether or not we can muscle out an imaginary outcome.

In that spirit, I have embarked on a thirty day campaign, twittering my acts of courage. I could use some ideas by the way. However, I’m noticing something interesting every time I perform a feat of courage. I don’t feel a thing.

No matter how drastic the act, no earth-shattering response follows, despite my hyped-up expectations. The last time I wrestled with a bout of change (and it was a while ago) I remember feeling a high.

In fact, I used to be a change junkie, flitting from one self improvement venture to the next. I used to be convinced the world was a better place with me in it, eating “I can change the world!” bullshit for breakfast. I feverishly read eastern and western religious and philosophical tomes, pop-psych favorites, attended seminars, top-notch schools, traveled and studied abroad, changed my hair, my clothes, my body, my relationships; mistaking such activities as substitutes for my own and everyone else’s, happiness.

Despite having access to all the opportunities to change in the world as an educated middle class white woman in America, I was miserable. Once I realized the changes I was making couldn’t satisfy me, I stopped. I stagnated. I melted into a pool of sameness and began to wallow in it.

Then last year, I got married and my father died, all within a 5 week time frame. You don’t need a PhD to know these events will change you, more accurately, break you.

Into a million pieces. Completely.
Put yourself back together. Again.
Learn how to truly change. Finally.

What I’ve learned:

You don’t need feelings for change. Your emotions are a highly inaccurate barometer for decision making and assessing the quality of your results.

You don’t need to have certainty or predictable outcomes. Even the best-laid plans must be malleable, to the point they may become unrecognizable.

You must be patient, and dare I say it, have faith. Making a change is the first, and easiest, step. Having the patience to withstand the time to fruition is a lifelong pursuit, and having faith that everything’s gonna be alright, well, that’s courage.

You can change too, start by doing something different, like subscribing to Shouting to Quiet the Thunder...

I Like it Raw, I Like it Legal

A recent article, Raw Milk Rebellion, on Reason hits home because I’ve been enjoying raw dairy for four years. Legally, from a farm I own shares in. If I otherwise wanted a lick of raw milk, I could be sent to jail, along with the dealer. And no, “raw milk” is not a new fancy term for blow. It’s the white stuff you dunk cookies in.

In short, the article talks about fervent efforts by the California legislature to ban the sale of raw milk in a state known for its high standards in organic and natural food production. Reading about such idiocy has sparked a latent ire I have with government regulation of the food industry. Such initiatives indicate that the government thinks people cannot choose for themselves. The article provides a thorough exchange on both sides of the issue, so I won’t elaborate - go read it.

However, I think the following story illustrates why this topic is close to my heart and the disastrous impact government regulations set with no context can have.

I’d like you to meet my farmer: His name is Richard, and he runs Family Farms Co-Op with two other families in Vandalia, Michigan. Every two weeks he comes to Detroit, after stops in Chicago and Ann Arbor, bringing high quality raw cream, milk, cheese, and various other meat and dairy products. His animals are fed pesticide-free grass, and treated humanely. As an omnivore, I try to make ethical meat choices and Richard’s business fills that need.

Too bad the Michigan Department of Agriculture and State Police thought I needed help making that choice.

Despite Richard adhering to state law regarding sale of his products through the co-op arrangement with customers-as-owners, he was tracked, sting-operation style for months. One day, he was stopped en-route to Ann Arbor, MI and his property, equipment, and inventory was seized. Computers and files taken, milk poured out. The same day, agents seized property from his business partners and drop-off destinations.

Can you imagine what they found on the hard drive? Probably an email or two from me: “Hey there, I’ll take cream and two cartons of eggs next Friday, thanks!”

However, the government sensed something more threatening. They felt there could have been “a violation of the Michigan law to distribute misbranded products and unpasteurized dairy…” and “…a whole variety of things.”

Thank god the state is taking care of a whole variety of things for me. I’m terribly frightened of a whole variety of things. I mean, what would I do if a whole variety of things weren’t regulated? God knows what a whole variety of things can do if they get out of hand.

The needless harassment of a wonderful businessman who provides a delicious, quality product at a fair price shows what is so very wrong with the government these days. Think about the wasted taxpayer money and government resources that went to cracking down on the legal sale of raw milk to private citizens who sign a contract saying they want it. So much for jobs creation, eh?

The great news is that Richard’s customers helped him get up and running again in short order, and he is back in business. He never did anything wrong, and his product sells itself. In fact, if you are thinking of getting raw dairy or just buying from local farmers, Find Your Own!

Rare Advice for Falling in Love

As a madly in love, happily married woman who recently (and I think successfully) hooked up two of her single friends, I have garnered priceless love data. I have researched my findings with other happily married or otherwise paired couples and I'm willing to share now that I've tested it on someone else.

1. Go for Quantity, Not Quality: If you are still single and looking for love, you need to go on as many dates as humanly possible. You need to ask your friends, co-workers, and yes, even your parents to hook you up. Try internet dating. As long as you meet in public, with whom it matters not. Like the efficient market theory, I believe in the efficient dating theory: that eventually by wading through all the crap you will find a priceless commodity, the one you don't trade up for because you've found a mate that will make your love equity skyrocket.

2. Hold Your Tongue: Like having sex on the first date, learn to say “No” to sharing the first thing that comes to mind in the frenzy of feelings that ensues when you first think you’ve found The One. Learn to walk the fine line between intimacy and annoyance. After a week or so, we tend to get comfortable, clingy, and our feelings get hurt if The One isn't following the puppetry of our expectations. That's when things start getting weird. Just don't say anything. I don't mean lie, or withhold important matters. Simply, don't be quick to judge or harshly opine with your new mate. You don't know anything about them, and be assured, though you find their beard trimming habits tragic, or their politics dismal, they will find your inability to leave the house without doubling back three times, or affinity for sci-fi equally horrendous.

3. No More Hairy Eyeball: You'll know you are in love when you are out and about, oblivious to glances from other potential suitors. I can say with assurance (sorry guys) that with every other boyfriend, I'd still be receptive to flirting with other guys. However, it all went away when I was dating my husband. It was like other men no longer existed in time and space. And on the off chance that my eyes met theirs, instead of getting all tingly inside, I'd laugh. A maudlin laugh as if seeing a sad clown, knowing that he could never capture my attention when I'd already got it so good.

4. Bridge Burning: Probably the most significant, and cathartic revelation in love is when you willingly, and happily, remove remnants from the wayward past you shared with various exes. I recommend gleefully cheering "Burn those bridges!" as you proceed. Deleting old phone numbers and ridiculous love emails is a delight, mementos you couldn’t bear to toss are now donated without mourning, and the only photos you keep are group shots or events you want to remember, not the singular poses of a beloved that used to arouse your affection. They now leave you unstirred.

Learn from me because I once was a bitter single woman. Painfully existing through the solitude of ice cream binges and Law & Order marathons alone. Ice cream and Law & Order are just so much better with a husband to share them.

Go get a room.

Or if you are not ready for commitment, try a small step, like subscribing to Shouting to Quiet the Thunder.

Growing a Pair: Blogging as an Experiment in Courage

My cousin has been experimenting with gratitude. For thirty days she has committed to finding something, anything to be grateful for. Reading her posts follows the wave of inspiration striking, uncertainty creeping in, and then breaking through again – not to inspiration, but something else. I dare call it change. Because of her readership she is called to be accountable for her promise some odd 17 days ago.

If you dare to blog, you commit to change. People who blog don’t do it because they are interested in ruminating about how stale and stagnant they’ve become and their plans to stay that way Thank You Very Much. No. They talk about how stale and stagnant they are, and then, as if the effect of a million tiny miracles colliding - they change. Slowly. Foot by foot, step by step. As much as I hate to admit it, blogging has changed me. And it’s not just signing up for Blogger and saying stupid shit. It’s the self-examination that comes with it. Anyone could do it, whether they have a blog or not, but there is something encouraging and emboldening about letting your (sometimes stupid and sometimes brilliant) shit be read by total strangers who strangely seem to give a damn about what you have to say. Incredible.

No one wants to read about me crying in the ladies room for thirty days in a row. People read blogs for something different, for examples of people doing things they want to do, for ideas, for inspiration. That was my motivation to read great blogs. My favorite bloggers are not the ones sitting on their duff complaining. My favorite bloggers have balls.

And by balls, I mean hutspa, I mean good old fashioned dusting themselves off and putting one foot in front of the other. Some of them even let me whine and complain on their blog and respond with patience and seriousness. Seriousness because, perhaps, they’ve felt like me and moved past the pain.

So, I’m going to jump on the thirty day bandwagon, with a slightly different angle.

Doing one thing every day that takes courage, for me.

I’ll be twittering them daily for thirty days. Follow me, join me, dare me.

House of Horrors

5:00 pm. An empty house. A ticking clock. Even the dog is away, vacationing with his grandmother.

I hadn’t carried on a conversation in 25 hours and needed to get out of the house.

My first mistake was clipping coupons. A dreary Saturday while one’s husband is away is not the time to start thinking about dwindling account balances and heading out on a discount shopping tour. But I braved the onslaught nevertheless.

First stop, Kmart. The scent of vinyl shower curtains greets me, unlike the salespeople who avoid eye contact. I apologetically slink past a woman replenishing the bath towel supply.

I make two round trips through the store and decide my time is up when I hear angry price haggling coming from the season opening of the Garden Department.

Though my mind is beginning to numb, my psyche dares me for more.

Next, I choose what Mike and I have marked as the most sinister retail location we’ve ever seen, but I had to prove it. Aldi.

If you are unfamiliar with this name, I’m not surprised. It can’t be from this country, if it is even from this planet. I’m convinced it’s simply a front for an elaborate money laundering scheme.

Cars are idling outside like getaway vehicles, as though everyone entering was planning on robbing the place. Shoppers are traveling in pairs: a mother-daughter duo, clutching ice cream and microwave popcorn, the younger waddling behind her future fattened self; a husband and wife, both sporting ponytails, speaking in tongues.

I venture in, holding my breath. Boxes of discounted inventory are stacked high, slashed open with a negligent hand, yet expertly arranged to block shoppers in like a creepy carnival maze, only no fun mirrors or music.

I get close, peering inside to see what is being offered. Fit & Active Chips. Does Aldi sell products whose marketing campaigns failed miserably?

A woman is walking towards me with a slow but determined charge. It feels sickeningly intimate, frightening. Our awkward dance continues when I veer left and she lunges in the same direction. She mumbles something about needing what I need. Feeling violated, I began moving with breakneck speed for the checkout counters.

In an attempt to test the limits of my gag reflex, the store layout forces me to walk past deviant brands of marked down mayonnaise, cheeses, gardening equipment, and jogging suits.

Certain the worst was over I head for the exit, only to encounter another woman, rail-thin, swathed in pink down to feathered flip-flops, whose flesh was the most unearthly shade of grey I’d ever seen, resembling that of a hippopotamus’.

The only thing I can take away from this is that there’s something to be said for paying a premium for a pleasant shopping environment.

God is On Everyone’s Mind Lately

Talking about God and Jesus just got a little more hip, thanks to Penelope Trunk featuring some Christian bloggers on Brazen Careerist and mentioning that people of faith can be more productive. I mean, we’re all looking for the next edge right?

While George Michael said it best, “You gotta have faith," no matter what your form of worship, I think it’s critically important to know what you are talking about before you start foaming at the mouth about someone else’s religion.

Take this blogger’s denunciation of a Papal document citing a proclamation about the Catholic church being the one true church.*

While this is old news (and by old, I mean biblically so) her post was further riddled with myriad misconceptions, gross over-generalizations, and cheap sensationalism, only pointing to an unstudied defense as a self-designated “non-Jewish Calvinist follower of Christ.” (By the way, are there any Jewish Calvinists?)

Furthermore, if you are not a follower of Catholicism, why would it make you mad what the Pope says? Shouldn’t you leave that to the Catholics? I mean, as a Catholic, I didn’t get upset when my best friend, a practicing Hindu, wouldn’t allow me to eat meat at her house because she thought cows were sacred. I just kept my mouth shut and had a hamburger on my own time.

And if you must know…

*The Pope’s statement is, at its simplest, tautological: true by definition. A little history lesson will further clarify that the Catholic church (the first of its kind) was the one founded by St. Peter, who was told to do so by Jesus. There’s no controversy here. And if you happen to be a Catholic, you can think that that is really cool, you celebrate in the one and only original church. Kind of like the Original Pancake house. Sure, there are other places to get pancakes, but who wouldn't want the original? So, if you are arguing that the Catholic church is not the only path to salvation, that is one thing. But the Catholic church is, by definition, the Catholic church.

How To Pretend You Weren’t Just Crying At Work

Life sucks…and then you cry.

Ever confused about how to handle uncontrollable crying at the office? Never fear, here’s how to turn even the most unprofessional display of emotion in your favor.

Pretend You Are Choking – you’re busy, and you show it. While your nerves might be on fire, you don’t want to put ‘em out with tears! Just pretend you are choking on that sandwich you are scarfing down because you don’t have time for lunch – or your sanity!

Pretend You Are Sick – you’re busy, and you show it. So busy, in fact, that you haven’t taken a sick day since 1995. No one will question your glossy-eyed look if you are hacking away as if fighting off typhoid fever.

Important Documents to Shred Anyone? – Backlogs got you waterlogged? No worries, take a trip to the ol’ shredding machine, where you are sure to get some solitude, and no one will notice the paperwork covered in waterworks, just shred your worries away!

The most obvious escape is the bathroom break, but I perform this routine with such frequency I had to come up with more ideas, you know, just to keep my nervous breakdowns feeling fresh.

Some of you might think that I hate my job. I don’t. Some of you may think I hate my life. I don’t. Some of you may think there is just something fundamentally wrong with my brain. Bingo.

I haven’t been diagnosed with anything, nor have I sought such help because that would mean admitting I have a problem – but I’ve long been convinced there’s a hole in my brain where rational thought, followed by adult decision-making was supposed to go. I end up crying and getting depressed about the most inconsequential things. Let me rephrase that – I fight like a f*ing champ through some of the toughest shit life has to throw at me, and then my bangs veer left, or my dog looks old, or my pants feel tight and life falls apart.

I haven’t got any actual advice, and forgive the corny sarcasm above. I’m out of ideas.

People Like to Yell at Penelope Trunk, I’d Like to Answer Her Questions

Yet again, Penelope Trunk’s blog incites riot-like response. Her recent post offers a maudlin vignette of a stay-at-home-dad. He's grateful his wife supports their household, yet seems dissatisfied with his life, and possibly had a mid-afternoon tryst to take the edge off changing diapers. Readers attacked both Penelope and the mystery man. This guy thinks it's all fake.

While the flurry of personal attacks were flecked with a bit of intelligent dialogue, my favorite comment came from “Sara” (emphasis added),

It’s hard to say for sure since the post is short and anecdotal, but what I gleaned from this story is that it sounds like the guy feels almost… justified (or at least doesn’t sound like he feels guilty) in his actions because of the role he’s in. If anything, it’s convinced me that personality is less affected by one’s daily role than I may have thought. I bet if this guy was a CEO and his wife was home with the kids, he’d be banging his secretary and still feel alright about it.

I don’t share Trunk’s views (based on her questions), though I understand the subject matter affects her deeply. Even if her interviewee is a phantom, it’s a topic worth ruminating over . Taking aim at a few of the questions raised, I found I had more of my own.

Trunk: Is being a stay-at-home dad any different than the life that Betty Friedan and Sylvia Plath worked so hard to get away from?

No, I don’t think it’s different. However, do we need to fight the homemaker’s lifestyle, whether a man or woman holds the title? What are we trying to get away from and who is stopping us? If we are looking for ways to be stay-at-home-parents and still be taken seriously in The World, (be it the business world, the indie rock scene, or a consortium of archeologists) let's address each particular challenge. I think it's a huge misconception and over-dramatization that being a homemaker is an oppressive institution like slavery that needs to be fought against. I believe it should be a personal choice that cannot be answered indiscriminately for women or men.

Trunk: Is the world really ready for stay-at-home dads? Will the world ever be ready?

There is no logical reason the world wouldn’t be ready. I’m curious what a stay-at-home-dad doesn’t have at his disposal that is so desperately needed? If it is validation from a high-powered wife; that is a legitimate need which can and should be addressed. If a couple who has chosen such an arrangement can't make it work simply because the husband is the primary caretaker, I think it points to a deep-seated divide in a marriage, not the child-rearing arrangement alone.

Furthermore, if a stay-at-home-dad feels he needs validation from the world at large, as it is not a common male role, he should file in the long line of publicly aired grievances, the least of which is staying home with small, innocent children. Plus, don’t we have enough to wrestle with on our doorsteps - wars, incurable diseases, and poverty - than to throw stay-at-home-dad’s plights in the kitty? I’d love to see a soldier in Iraq’s reaction to this man’s lifestyle. Some perspective is needed.

Trunk: Why is the world not talking about the downside of being a stay-at-home dad? Moms complain about this lifestyle all the time –when they are doing it — but men don’t.

Perhaps moms complain with more frequency, but women are emotionally hyper-wired, biologically speaking. Men are not, which is perhaps why we don’t hear from them on this topic. No amount of public awareness will change men’s bio-psychology.

Trunk: Do women respect their stay-at-home husbands? I wonder if women might have to work very, very hard to respect their husbands who stay at home. Perhaps gratitude comes easily, but respect takes a huge effort and a lot of mental tricks.

Again, I don't think there is a logical reason why women wouldn't, shouldn't, or couldn't respect stay-at-home-husbands. Perhaps the question should be re-phrased, "I wonder if women who married someone they don't respect in the first place have to work very, very hard..."

I’d respect my husband if he stayed at home because I respect my husband, period. If you need to perform elaborate mental trickery to respect your husband, you don’t. The delicate question which follows: Why have you married someone you don’t respect? If caring for your progeny caused you to revile him, you are shallow and stupid. Then I would agree with Penelope, you have to get to the hard work of learning to respect someone with whom you explicitly vowed to spend your life. Poor you. Poor him.

Eco-Adorned: Figs & Ginger

I don’t know Elijah and Rhonda Wyman of Figs & Ginger, but I feel like we should be friends. I contacted them via email to inform them I’d gone bonkers over a necklace my husband had bought me from their collection, and to ask if I could steal some images from their site.

They said Yes!

I love love love this jewelry. Not only is it impeccably designed, with a delicate elegance that evokes a stunning, simple line drawing when worn, but the added bonus: Rhonda (the metal-smith and designer) takes care to use recycled materials, resulting in a product that is eco-friendly, a steal for the quality, and you’ll feel and look good wearing it!

Mike surprised me with the Nestlings Necklace: two birds, posed gingerly facing each other. I feel like I’m amidst a fairy tale forest scene when I wear it and the necklace pairs perfectly with everything I’ve tried so far…t-shirts, suits, and even an evening gown!


In their own words,

“Running a responsible small business is top priority to us. We promise that we make as many 'green' decisions as we possibly can. We are always exploring and researching new ways of cutting down waste, we always recycle, and we try to reinvent most everything we can salvage. All of our literature is printed on 50%-100% post consumer recycled stock, we use local independently owned printers who use soy based inks, and hydro electricity. We also practice these habits in our everyday lifestyle. We encourage you to do the same.”

Yay!!! We need more business people like them. By the way - it’s always a good idea to contact local shop owners and encourage them to carry products you want to buy – I plan to do this myself!

I don’t get paid to say any of this, unless currency has recently been converted to sheer satisfaction…so you can be assured I speak honestly…click on over to Figs & Ginger and indulge yourself on a piece (or all) of their current collection and support a great cause, and enjoy!

Our Cell Phones Are Disconnecting

Three friends are seated at an outdoor café, sipping coffee, their eyes resemble a congealed glaze, yet their brains doubtless working maniacally, their thumbs moving fiercely, fighting to communicate over fiber optic channels...the relentless tap tap tap against multi-hued PDAs signals utmost urgency…perhaps a child has fallen ill, their sister has gone into labor, or a lover arrived from a year long military station. When they do get a moment to stop, breathe, converse with each other, the stunning nature of their communications is revealed…

Did you know my RAZR comes with a heightened sense of importance, allowing me to interrupt people mid-thought, talk louder than necessary, and grimace at sales clerks as I order a cappuccino while simultaneously fighting with my nanny?

Oh yeah? The BlackBerry's new feature allows me to text pointless babble, straddle two lanes in 80 mph traffic without consequence, and look hot doing it!

I’ve got you both beat, my iPhone automatically adopts children from impoverished nations with a direct debit from my bank account, downloads a new podcast from The Secret daily, and could basically save the world if we’d only let it…Shhh!…it’s ringing…

While I don’t go so far as to deify my cellphone, I’ve been guilty of a social faux pas or two. My cell phone has inadvertently dialed friends in the middle of the night, gone off at inappropriate times, and I’ve performed the classic This’ll Only Take a Second charade, complete with accompanying hand motions indicating the person on the other end of the line is such a talker.

Sadly, these improprieties are becoming norms, saying “I don’t care about you because whatever message, download, or ringtone coming through is far more important than present company." This only serves to push us away from each other, making the speed at which we communicate useless if we aren’t really connecting. I understand that leveraging technology to enhance communication can be productive and satisfying, but I’m skeptical that every situation warrants immediate interruption and response.

Here’s the instruction manual I wish companies included with each electronic device purchase that we could all learn to follow:

Thank you for the purchase of your new Personal Digital Assistant, here are a few tips to make usage easier to swallow for those around you:

1. Feel Free to Speak at a Normal Volume: Our engineers work tirelessly to develop micro-transmitters that will adequately amplify your voice, allowing normal conversation levels to be audible with great accuracy.

2. Not Everything is Cause for Interruption: Try to be discerning about cutting off our friends mid-sentence to text or answer a call. We hope our product can help foster communication so that the next time you contact someone they still find you a person worth talking to.

3. No One Likes Your Ringtone But You: Our product is neither meant to serve as a personal soundtrack, nor does it enhance your appearance upon ringing, no matter what song or sound effect is playing, trust us. We understand you may not always remember to place it on silent, but at least try to look apologetic when it goes off during a movie or symphony, and for God’s sake, don’t answer it.

I'm looking for reader input on this one, got something to add?