I have a plan. It's been percolating in my head every since I went off my meds permanently (Oh... oh that didn't sound good at all. I promise that sounded better in my head. It's not what you think!)
My family lean towards being dirty hippies. In fact, they lean towards a lot of things, but I grew up with a mum who had this uncanny ability to grow absolutely anything. She used this power for good, and we always had fresh herbs and random tinctures and infusions around. There was a passionate interest in herbal uses, and she played with combinations and essential oils, usually to the benefit of healing bruises, stings, sore throats and the like.
Since I'm getting older and my friends have begun procreating, I've become more aware of all the shit that we willingly expose ourselves to. For me, I probably have enough endocrine disruptors to seriously impact my ability to have children not possessing four eyes and far too many noses. But suppose I have children with the appropriate number of organs? Do I want to be exposing them to all this shit? And why am I still willingly exposing ME to all this shit?
So I'm returning to my dirty hippie familial roots. Slowly. I have a plan. It's a simple plan, but it is will be implemented slowly and judiciously. This is to increase my likelyhood of actually doing it -- the thought of going no 'poo (shampoo-less) has had me scratching my scalp all morning. But I have a plan. I'm also trying not to terrify the Significant Other into either bolting for the door or (more likely) physically hosing me down while screaming "Unclean! Unclean!". I've already exposed him to a corner of my plan, and the sideways look judging whether or not I had finally gone straight off the deep end and would shortly be wearing nothing but leaves and painting my body with mud left me thinking that slower is better.
So I have a plan. I will keep you informed as it progresses.
I also have this most interesting article of news. Seems that even the sight of The Gays will infect our poor impressionable children. (I'd be more worried that the sight of Elton John may give you a ridiculous glasses fetish.) The fact that a large store chain covered up a gay couple happily holding their new infant left me sputtering in righteous anger.
The fact that the comments supported and defended this left me mildly nauseated. Not particularly surprised, but definitely disappointed. It set me back on my quest to have a low stress week. Thwarted also by the frustrating re-training of our new dog, fighting with my yoga mat, and locking myself out of my office not once, but twice, before 7:30am. I feel like writing that store and telling them that they're shortening my lifespan by stressing me out with their stupidity. Oh no, some people complained? Grow some balls and respect the freedom of both speech and personal identity.
