From the Archives: I *am* changing the world one bag at a time

I try to be as green as I can and try to continue improving daily. I am always looking for a way to make a difference. And today my friends, I feel as though one person really can change the world.
Dear Husband and I have been shopping with canvas bags for quite some time now. It all started in our local health food store Ellwood Thompson. I bought my first canvas bag and the obsession began. We take them everywhere and let me tell you, they are not always well received. I’ve actually resorted to bagging my own groceries in some places. Some places are stepping up a realizing that things have to change and are starting to offer bag credits for every bag you use of your own. I think that is swell. I can save the world and save some money.
A few months into my bag obsession, I saw an Oprah show about going green. Oprah asked if paper or plastic was the best and I knew that the answer was neither. I felt smug that I was one step ahead of the Oprah show. Later in the show, she introduced produce bags. Oh my, new bags for my collection and yet another way to save some plastic. I went to buy the bags right away but for days and days they were sold out. I stalked the site until finally, the bags were available.
I was so excited when my produce bags came. We used them for the first time and people stared at us in the produce department like we had 14 heads or something. The cashier was intrigued and commented that they were interesting. Within a few weeks of having the produce bags, I headed back to Ellwood Thompson and used my bags for produce and for bulk grains. This time the cashier was very excited. She was calling attention to my bags with everyone in the store. She wanted to know where they came from and I proudly said “”, once again I was feeling smug. An low and behold, guess what happened. The very next time I was in ET’s, they had custom printed produce bags for sale in the store. Now, I’m not sure if this was a result of my little bags but I sure would like to think so.
My little bags have been causing a stir everywhere I go. But yesterday, I must tell you that I felt the proudest I have ever felt about them. We went to Charlottesville, VA with some friends to spend the day at the lovely Historic Downtown Mall. We had also decided that we would visit the Mecca, Whole Foods. I was excited, health food stores are one of my favorite places and since we don’t have a Whole Foods here, I couldn’t wait. While packing the car, I threw in my canvas bags ready to fill them to the brims with yummy healthy food and cheese.
We probably spent an hour or so in the store, roaming the aisles, trying samples of good food and filling our little cart. While we were looking at the bread, I saw that they had the cutest little shopping bags and I mentioned to my dearly beloved that we had to buy a couple of them. I wanted one for myself and one for Traci from work. I had recently turned her on to using canvas bags as well. I even earned the nickname “Hippie” for it with my co-workers. So, as we gathered our things and put them on the belt I added two more bags to my ever growing collection.
And while shelling out what seemed like my whole paycheck, the man bagging my groceries said “These are cool, where did you get these” and I was feeling prouder than every. No way was the Whole Foods dude asking about MY bags. I proudly said “” and he pried a little more. He wanted to know how much I paid and wondered if they could get them custom printed for Whole Foods to carry in the store. Oh, I was feeling more smug than ever.
I can’t wait to go back to that Whole Foods and see those bags for sale. It feels good to know that I *am* making a difference one bag at a time.

From the Archives: When are you due?

Yesterday, I was at the local veggie stand, doing the right thing, buying local with my organic cotton produce bags and my canvas shopping bags when all of a sudden it happened. The lovely little old lady that makes me think of my grandma said “So, when are you due?”. After fumbling on my words for a minutes, I said “I’m not pregnant”. A look of horror swept her face and she told me that she was sorry. She began to fumble on her words, too. And my witty humor defense mechanism kicked in and I said “ah, no worries, I’m just fat” and I laughed. She handed me my change and patted my hand gently and once again said that she was sorry. I turned around fighting back tears and said to my dear husband that I planned to never wear the dress that I was wearing again.

In the car, it took all I had to not burst into tears. I drove home softly weeping just begging for my driveway to appear. Thank goodness I was shopping locally. I’m not sure what would have happened if I would have had to stay in public any longer. Once I arrived home, the tears and heavy sobs began to flow. I crawled into my big soft bed and cried until I felt like I couldn’t cry anymore. Dear husband stood by and rubbed my back. I felt as if everything I had ever done in this quest for good health and a trim body had been done in vain. I felt that I MUST look that way because, if there is a god, he or she knows that I would NEVER ask a woman that unless I was absolutely 100% positive that she was pregnant. In a nutshell, my feelings have never been more hurt and on top of that I was hungry. I had been hungry for 2 hours and this whole thing made me feel guilty for being hungry.

After my sob fest, I took a shower and calmed down immensely. We hung out, played the wii, watched some tv and did the normal “it is hot as hell and no way am I stepping outside” Saturday afternoon thing. By dinner time, I was ravished with emotion again. And I, being the good little food addict that I am, turned to food. I ate and ate and ate until I couldn’t fit in another bite. With every bite I took my hurt feelings turned into guilt and the pain just grew. At one point, my dearly beloved even asked me if I was still hungry. This should have been a major red light but I just said “not really” and kept shoving it in. At the end of my food party, I felt sick and sad and guilty. That food really helped, huh?

And do you want to know the most ironic part? The most ironic part is that only 2 days ago, I was telling my friend Mara that I was actually in a place of acceptance of being the size that I am. Funny the difference a day can make. Now I am miserable coming up with exercise schemes in my wacked out brain.

Makes me think of my friend “hot” Kelly at work. Kelly is hot. She is gorgeous, has a smokin’ hot bod, dresses in the most fashionable clothing and get this, she is also the nicest person you could ever dream of meeting. Makes you want to vomit really. Jealous Much? Not me. Ha. Anyway, Kelly is a naturally thin person. She eats “whatever she wants”, exercise is just a “normal” part of her day, she doesn’t think of it as torture, she actually enjoys it. She walks 4 miles every morning, rain or shine. She attends 2 pilates classes per week and she does Px90 or something like that. She deserves her smokin’ hot bod. But I digress.

It makes me think of her because I want that dedication. I want exercise to just be a natural part of my life. I want to be able to just pop out of bed at the crack ass of dawn and get to moving my booty. And everyday of my life, I don’t do that. Maybe tomorrow.