earthgirl (7 page)

Read earthgirl Online

Authors: Jennifer Cowan

Tags: #JUV000000

BOOK: earthgirl
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“In thirty years Glacier National Park won't have any more glaciers,” I said as we stared intensely at the painting of snow and ice.

“Then we don't have a lot of time, do we,” he said, taking my hand (my happily for once unclammy hand) and leading me through the maze of exquisite paintings.

I wasn't sure if he meant us or the world. Or maybe they were the same thing.

e a r t h g i r l
space invaders
[ Oct. 14th | 11:53pm ]
[ mood | besotted, bewitched and bewildered ]
[ music | beth orton — galaxy of emptiness ]

Sacred spaces. It seems like a simple concept, except every single day the corrupt corporate conglomorization of the world eeks and sneaks a bit more territory.

Take the Nevada desert, which the KFC people just did!! They put a gianormous mosaic of Colonel Freaking Saunders there which can be seen from outer space!

The aliens are going to think we all have white goaties and Buddy Holly glasses. It's so, so, so incredibly sad.

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googleearth

onederful 10-15 17:04
who is buddy holly?

Vague-a-bond 10-15 17:23
some dead musician guy who had the same glasses as Uncle KFC.

altalake 10-16 1:12
Clever tactic — colonel(izing) outer space via the UFO capital(ists) of the world. Expanding market share everywhere
.

My occasionally adorable, often annoying little sister has been recruited by the enemy. Like many thousands of other easily impressed and impressionable girls before her and sadly likely to follow, the POWERS THAT BE have co-opted her mind in the name of uberconsumerism.

Yes, Clare was now a card-carrying, log-in accessing member of the Girls Intelligence Agency.

It's enough to make me want to scream. I tried to intervene. But sadly, as with my equally malleable, consumer-corroborating and completely consumed dearest pals, it was to little avail. Clare now gleefully reports to THEM, the corporate behemoths (big mouths) with the satisfied obliviousness of a cult member. All because they have created this groovy website, call her a secret agent and promise her free stuff for a few strategic clicks.

This extremely clever subterfuge is designed to make her believe she's actually an agent of change, influencing corporate decision making and consequently creating better things for everyone everywhere. Provided your definition of “everyone” is limited to middle-class girls in the Western world. Like they needed to do more to get
everyone
on the planet buying and wanting and consuming more!

Yes, being part of GIA (very glam sounding) means making the world a better place for you and me and girls just like us.

“Don't you get it? They're making you think you're part of some special club and your opinion actually matters,” I explained when she logged into the website to show me how “kewl” it was.

“Yeah, so?” She didn't even look at me as her fingers flew across the keyboard.

“So they're exploiting you,” I said as I realized how incredibly brilliant and subversive this new under-the-radar advertising actually was. And how scary.

“No, they give me free stuff,” she answered, expertly clicking the mouse onto the sleepover kit section.

“They trade it for your opinions so they can figure out what else they can sell you.”

“So?”

“So? If you're a guinea pig and they're sucking your brain out, it's not exactly free.”

“You really need to relax, Sabine. Try to get some groping action or something,” she scoffed, turning toward me long enough to roll her eyes. “You're like some eco-crazy crazy person.”

“No, I'm more like the only sane person I know,” I sighed.

I wanted to be a good influence. I was trying to lead by example. But how could I possibly compete with free stuff?

Apparently being the earthgirl, and actually making a difference in my world, was going to require greater ingenuity on my part. And that was something I definitely know cannot be bought.

Anywhere. For any price.

e a r t h g i r l
[ Oct. 20th | 9:58pm ]
[ mood | confused ]
[ music | I was a daughter I Basia Bulat ]

today i beg and implore you to just say no to fast food. and not merely cuz of conglomeration + healthy eating concerns. for the garbage! gazillions of Styrofoam clamshells for 5 minutes of transport lying in our ocean-sized landfills for decades.

but since i'm not so naive to think the world will stop eating fast food or taking out takeout, i came up with a most brilliant eco-innovation to solve this quandary. edible packaging! and then, to my pleasure, i discovered that it sort of exists. some fabo folks are using corn and potatoes and starch to make takeaway boxes that biodegrade and won't be doomed to the ground for all eternity.

pretty clever! and kind. so if you must takeaway, then demand more from the businesses you patronize!

[email protected]

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www.naturopack.org
www.nat-ur.com
www.earthshell.com

altalake 10-20 21:21
I always carry my spork and Swiss army knife
and even have a plastic container in my pack. Waste not, want not.

Vague-a-bond 10-21 00:22
Me, I like slow food and raw food and always, always, always, local food.

seven_

Vray was sitting with his bandmate buddy Finn in the window seat of the midtown fair-trade all-organic coffee shop he'd suggested as our rendezvous point. I tried not to be too disappointed that he wasn't alone. Maybe I'd misinterpreted his text message and wished it into a date-date when it was just a casual hanging-out kind of thing.

From the sidewalk it looked like they were in the midst of an intense life-and-death discussion. I was almost reluctant to interrupt for fear I might derail what was certain to be an important train of profound thoughts.

I was considering the best mode of approach when Vray spotted me and waved me over. His serious expression suddenly shifted to the seductive smile, saving me from myself again, and not a second too soon.

“They're hypocrites of the highest order. It's beyond disgusting and obviously criminal,” Finn ranted as I approached.

“Sounds intense,” I offered, because his breathless indictment of whomever he was breathlessly indicting sounded so passionate and convincing. I didn't even know the topic, but already I was on side.

“Bastards are going to rip up the Arctic National Wildlife
Refuge to drill for oil,” Finn sighed as he dragged a stool over to let me scooch in between them. So thoughtful and polite, considering his mind was elsewhere on something obviously big and calamitous.

“They have these rules to protect places and things, but they mean shit when money comes into the picture. It's unbelievable. The American asshole government gives its stamp of approval and everyone nods and agrees it's a good idea. Then they trot out the scientists they pay off to dispute the real science,” Vray practically spat, the vein in his temple pulsing. “A whole species of caribou is threatened and instead of trying to develop clean renewable energy, it's
Hey let's drill for oil over here in case we can't have any more from the Mid East and we can't admit that illegal immoral war we launched isn't working out so well.
Damn all the animals and the landscape.”

“But if it's a National Wildlife Refuge, doesn't that mean it's protected?” I asked, feeling confused and suddenly angry that I had no idea this was happening on top of all the other awful things going on in the world. When you took a second to think about it, all the everythings we didn't know were pretty frightening.

“Protected until big money pays off a few strategic powerbrokers,” Vray answered with a sigh. “It's like why piss off the car makers and big oil? As if they're more important than creatures that were here way before us.” He looked exhausted and a bit defeated. Not unlike the way he looked after his benefit concert bit the biscuit.

“So what do you do? I mean, what do we do?” I asked,
feeling small and powerless. The same way the poor soon-to-be-destroyed Arctic caribou would be feeling, if they knew what was going on. “Maybe you could have another concert outside somewhere to attract a bigger crowd.”

“Yeah,” Vray nodded. “We're thinking about a few bigger more intense things. The shows are good, but they don't get people riled up the way they should. We're still figuring it out.”

“Let me know what I can do. I'll definitely help out,” I said, even though I had no idea what I was offering. It's just that seeing him so emotional and committed made me feel like it was the least I could do. After all, I lived on this planet, too, and I hoped it would be around for many more years. For me and all the other people inhabiting it and the caribou (cariboos?), too.

“You're awesome, Sabine Solomon. Like I told Finn, I could tell the minute I saw you there was something real special going on,” Vray said as he leaned forward and kissed me deftly and casually full on the mouth.

FULL ON THE MOUTH!!!

“Welcome aboard,” Finn agreed, shaking my hand with a hip-hop handshake and acting like nothing monumentous had just happened.

To me! With his friend Vray! Right in front of his own nose! Like something called a KISS! By this point I was too stunned to actually hear what they said to one another.

It was fluky, fabulous moments like this that kind of made me wish I had an audience or a fan club, or that I could text with my mind to let Carmen and Ella in on what had just transpired. They didn't have a clue what an incredible
integrity-filled passionate guy Vray was. And that said amazing, valiant creature was really and truly interested in my ideas and contributions and, it now seemed, my company and my mind and my bod, too!

“It's made with rice milk. Better for you and the planet,” Vray said as a steaming bowl of café au lait magically appeared on the beaten-up and graffiti-ed table in front of me.

I nodded and smiled. I was so lost in the extreme fabulosity of that surprise kiss that I didn't even remember him asking what I'd wanted. Or even noticing that Finn seemed to be gathering up his stuff.

“Gotta book,” Finn said as he stood and shrugged on his heavy canvas jacket. “Later, bro. You, too, Sabine.”

“Bye,” I sighed and half waved as he headed out the door and the bell above it chirped sweetly.

“So was work okay?” Vray asked.

“Yeah, it's always different. We're selling a new line of vegan gluten-free eggless crackers, so I was giving out samples.”

“They any good?”

“Not really. They're kind of dry, like little slabs of cardboard with sesame seeds. Not that I've ever eaten cardboard, but for some reason other people like them. Don't hate me for saying it, but some of that stuff is an acquired taste.”

“I hear you,” he said. “It gets easier with practice or if you're really, really hungry.”

He smiled that melt-inducing smile again. I tried to stay calm and normal, since I didn't want him to think I was a total freak. Even though I felt like a total freak for
wigging out over something other girls would consider so normal.

“So were you and Finn hanging out or was that official action hero business?” I asked.

“Both. Sorry if I ambushed you having him here. It was kind of last minute. He's a busy dude so even though I'm usually slammed, my time's more flexible.”

“Don't you work at all?” I asked, genuinely intrigued that Vray was somehow so busy and available at the same time.

“No time with school, the band, the movement,” he shrugged.

“What about money?”

“For what? I live at home, my mom feeds me, school's still free. I get by,” he smiled, running his hand through his tangle of curls.

“Lattes, for example?” I pointed to the big bowl in front of us.

“Sarita comps me from time to time,” he said, nodding to a plump, pretty, intense-looking girl with a brow ring wiping the espresso machine.

“What if you want to buy something?” I asked, wondering how he managed to have no job and no money problems, while I had a part-time job and was always broke. Even after I stopped buying new stuff.

“I'm not much of a consumer,” he answered. “I get books at the library, download or swap music, and anything else I need I can trade favors or things I'm not using. Or the universe comes through.”

“The universe comes through? You do realize that sounds completely wacko to most normal, sane people?”

“And are you a normal, sane person?” he asked seriously.

“Sometimes. Most of the time, probably.”

“Well, it only sounds whacked to people who don't believe it,” he shrugged with a small smile. “It brought me you, didn't it?”

I heard a small gasp that sounded like a sex sigh. When it was obvious I was the source of the sound, I realized I was on the verge of choking or asphyxiating or at the very least falling off the wobbly-legged stool then and there.

When I opened my lips to breathe again, instead of the cool, coffee-scented air of the café, I felt Vray's warm, coffee-tasting mouth against mine. Again! The warm moisture of the air in his mouth as his lips pressed perfectly and passionately against mine. AND STAYED THERE!!!

I wobbled slightly on the teetering stool and nearly fell over as his hand reached out and tugged gently at my hair. My eyes darted open and for a minute it was completely Meta. This crazed out-of-body experience where I was hovering over us as he cupped my flushed face in his warm, strong hands and kissed me.

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