earthgirl (8 page)

KISSED kissed me.

I shut my eyes tightly as I felt his tongue slide across my teeth (and was so relieved I'd been to Dad the dentist recently and flossed regularly). Behind my lids everything was swirling in rich shades of green and blue, like the trees were melting into the sky and the sea.

Finally I understood.

This
was what all the fuss was about.

e a r t h g i r l
do you care-a-boo?
[ Oct. 28th | 11:22pm ]
[ mood | awed ]
[ music | brother down — sam *swoon* roberts]

Animals are smart, but they get confused when something is different. Like suddenly there's a BIG HONKING OIL PIPELINE blocking their path. The route they've taken for their whole entire creature lives!

So they hang out trying to figure it out. To figure out if there's another way to go to where they're going. For lunch. Or a swim. Or maybe some mating action. And it can take a long time. And they starve or get attacked by wolves.

AND SUDDENLY THERE AREN'T ANYMORE CARIBOU.

Guess most people don't really worry about that much when they drive their gas guzzlin jalopies or big honking SUVs to the corner store for chips or to rent a DVD or to pick up Rover from his doggy daycare and spa!

FYI caribou are cousins of reindeer. So when they're gone, who pulls Santa's sleigh? A pickup truck? A pack of elves? No one?

link                                                                                           read 4 | post
www.cariboucommons.com

altalake 10-28 23:58
The link to the caribou site with the letter from Robert Redford and the spooky music was haunting. Cariboo-hoo. :(

“We've already given a deposit,” Mom said, as if that would change my mind.

“I'll pay you back from my job,” I answered. It wasn't exactly what I had in mind for my hard-earned cashola, but seemed only fair under the circumstances.

“That's not the point, Sabine,” Dad said in his very logical voice, which he annoyingly seemed to be using a lot more than usual lately. “You need to take driving lessons to get your licence and ensure the best rates on insurance. Otherwise it's ridiculous for a first-time teen driver.”

“You don't get it, Daddy,” I sighed. “You don't have to worry about expensive insurance. I don't want my driver's licence.”

“You can't wait to drive,” Mom snorted. “You've been counting the days since your tenth birthday.”

“I changed my mind,” I replied. “I have a whole different perspective on cars and driving now.”

“Don't be silly. You'll change your mind back. And what about Ella? She'll be so disappointed.”

“It's not like she won't be able to learn to drive without me taking the course, too,” I scoffed.

“Actually, kiddo, I'm not sure I agree with you,” Daddy smirked. “She's not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer.”

“Bob!” Mom scolded. “Don't say things like that about Beana's friends.”

“Please,” I groaned.

“I just don't understand where this is coming from all of a sudden. It's like that stupid woman and her garbage gave you brain damage,” Mom said. “First it was the new job, then you stop flushing the toilet and now this from a girl who used to beg me to drive her to the mall so she didn't have to take the bus? Something's up.”

Then, like a complete freak, she knelt down in front of me and took my face in her hands and stared me straight in the eyeballs.

“You're not doing drugs or something crazy,” she demanded, her nose to my nose.

“For Pete's sake, Rachel, leave the girl alone,” Dad said. “If she's so smart she thinks she doesn't need to drive that's her decision. Personally I think she's being ridiculous, but that's what teenagers do, right?”

“Thank you,” I answered, pulling my face away from my mother's clammy grasp. “And for your information, it's exactly like me. The new, improved I'm-part-of-this-planet-and-I-care-about-it me.”

With that I stomped out of the living room, even though stomping on wall-to-wall carpeting wasn't all that dramatic or noisy.

And it would have been the ideal gesture if I hadn't heard my mom swipe my glory moment by muttering to my dad in her know-it-all-mom voice, “This is all your fault. I warned you not to encourage her with that stupid book.”

e a r t h g i r l
[ Nov. 05th | 10:01pm ]
[ mood | brain ache — is that a mood or mood disorder?]
[ music | nothing ever happens — blake babies]

I discovered another new word today – “ECOTAGE” A hybrid of ECOLOGY and SABOTAGE. It's poo-poo-ed by some people in green circles as destructive and harsh. Others deem it necessary. Imperative.

There is also “environmental advocacy.” And “environmental activism.” I'm not sure what the difference is. It probably depends on who uses the word. Or who points the finger. Or which side you think you are on.

The weird thing is that people are actually on different sides in this one. Aren't we all on the same side?

The side of kindess, decency and survival?

link                                                                                   read 6 | post
www.saveourclimate.ca

lacklusterlulu 11.05 10:57
Me myself and I advocate activism and positivism but not nepotism. Cept for me.

MachFhive 11-05 11:33
I'm on the side of using freeks like U for animal testing. Why waste a good rat?

altalake 11-05 21:38
buddy, take it somewhere else. sorry you feel green washed by the truth, but get over it.

e a r t h g i r l
[ Nov. 06th | 4:36pm ]
dont fret it alta. at least we know which side HE's on!

“My parents are buying me a Mini,” Carmen announced, waving a very glossy brochure at me and Ella as we stood by our lockers moments before first period and mere seconds after her morning smooch-and-grope with Darren (strategically staged practically
licking
distance from our faces...
uck!
).

This was the perfect time to break my news about ditching driving school to Ella, but I held my tongue. I'd tell her later, so I didn't throw off her entire day. Plus I didn't want to hijack Carmen's bragging, especially since it gave me a great opportunity to slip in some tasty socially conscious tidbits.

“Why don't you get a Smart Car?” I asked, since if Carmen had hypnotized or tantrumed her parentals into buying her a car, she could easily sway them to get a caring car.

“What's so smart about a car that only holds two people and a sandwich bag?”

“It's electric,” I said, pretty certain it was, or at least very eco-kind.

“I'll wait till they come out with a solar car,” she shrugged, tucking the colorful pamphlet in her purple binder.

“They have,” Ella grinned. “It's called a bike!”

I couldn't help but smile. The comment was pretty sharp for Ella, who had a tendency to be pretty dim (okay, bad metaphor in light of the quite good solar joke). Sadly, despite their charms and senses of humor, it was growing ever more obvious (and slightly frustrating) that converting my gals to my new way of thinking was going to be a long, slow process.

I shouldn't really have been surprised.

With all the hype and urgency the environment, weather, food supply and water were generating everywhere these days, it was inevitable my girlz would switch to tune out. Or skeptical at least. Green fatigued. And who could blame them? Even I was occasionally exhausted by the breathless, overmedicated news-spewing talking heads and undermedicated political hacks spitting out URGENT warnings. Not to mention the flippant nature of ultra-spoiled celebs driving away from gift-bag-a-ramas in their sparkling Prius's (Priui?) hybrids. And I'd sniffed out the paradox of people with multiple homes scarfing down endangered sea bass at swishy charity fundraisers.

Yup, if Carmen and Ella were indicative of anything, it was the fickle yet shrewd and discriminating nature of my peeps. Of my entire generation. And the importance of working from the inside out.

Thankfully, I was an insider. A long-time and most importantly beloved (if occasionally lovingly mocked) insider.

“Maybe if we rattled some cages we'd care less about cars and driving,” I said, with what I hoped sounded like equal parts humor and wisdom.

Ella elbowed Carmen and huffed a little laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Ella said, making it abundantly clear it was definitely something. “Carmee and me have a little wager that you'd do this, that's all.”

“You keep hanging on to all this blah, blah, blah inconvenient truth stuff. We sat through those lectures, too. We're fine with the Kyoto or fritchin' Toyota protocols, but it's not up to us, Sabine,” Carmen explained calmly. “We're at the bottom of the food chain and if corporations and governments sit on their asses, me using a plastic fork won't end the world.”

“Fine. Make fun of me, but slagging off personal responsibility lets them get away with their corruption. They're accountable to us, you know. We live in a democracy.”

“We can't even vote and we can barely drive,” Ella said bluntly.

“And most of us don't have jobs or pay taxes,” Carmen continued. “Trust me, it's sweet of you to get all riled up, but no one in power gives a flyer.”

“They will,” I said confidently. “Oh, I almost forgot. I got you guys a prezzie.” I reached into my backpack and grabbed the thoughtful new gifts. One for Carmen, one for Ella and one for me to signify friendship, solidarity and taking care of the planet.

“What's this?” Carmen asked, tangling and untangling her French manicured talons from the unbleached organic cotton mesh.

“A stringbag,” I beamed. “From the co-op. They're fair trade.”

“What for?”

“To keep in your purse or your pack, in case you buy something.”

“If I buy something, they give me a bag,” Carmen said, handing it back.

I put my hand out to block her.

“This way they don't have to,” I explained as Ella played with hers, stretching it, then springing it back to its contracted size like a kid.

“Yeah,” Carmen nodded. “Except they want to and I want them to.”

“And you create more garbage.”

“No, I don't. I use that Guess bag from when I got that silky top. I brought it to your house when I gave you my old CosmoGirls and Vogues. Okay, maybe not the Banana Republic bag, but it's just a normal shopping-bag bag. Though the one from the Betsey Johnson store is cute.”

“That's a really nice one,” Ella agreed.

“You guys don't get it, do you?” I sighed.

“We get it,” Ella insisted. “You want to be Sabine the green, so we're supposed to be excited. But we're not. Sorry.”

“Why?” I asked, genuinely confused.

“Look, we've been through this already and it sucks you got beaned with trash, but it's not our fault the world is going to hell in a handbasket or a breadbasket or whatever,” Carmen shrugged. “And just to be clear, I'd rather have fun
and live and buy stuff than spend my time worrying and marching around whining.”

“I'm not whining,” I said, hoping I wasn't. “I just think this is important. It's life or death.”

“No, you think it'll impress the wild boy with the stupid name,” Carmen said. “And when you get over him, you'll gravitate to the next thing. It's no biggie. We all do it. You don't actually think I like watching Darren's basketball practice? Or sitting there while he plays that iBox crap?”

“XBox.”

“Exactly,” she shrugged. “Girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.”

“How is the solar hottie, anyway?” Ella asked.

“Not that I feel like discussing it because you clearly don't get me or any of this, but he's amazing,” I answered, trying to tell them a lot without telling them anything. “And for the record, I was interested in the state of the world before I even met Vray.”

“Then it's good you found each other so you can have long gushy chats about windmills and soybeans,” Carmen agreed. “Cause as much as we love you, we're really hoping the old Sabine comes back from the bush soon cause the lectures are getting a little lame.”

And with that she flung the stringbag back at me like a slingshot.

e a r t h g i r l
blow it out your...
[ Nov 11th | 8:34pm ]
[ mood | confused ] [ music | The Closer | Get — Hayden ]

Why don't we have more windmills? Why don't we all have solar panels on our roofs to heat our houses and our water? Hello? The sun and the wind are FREE!!!!

And they aren't going away — at least NOT IN OUR LIFETIMES.

Instead we use OIL. We fight wars for it. We pollute the world with it. And we act like the earth is a tap that will always run full tilt to feed our greedy SUV tanks. And the tank tanks that storm through the desert to protect “FREEDOM.”

Freedom is a synonym for OIL. And here's the irony. There isn't an endless supply. The world is running out!! 80% of the oil in the world was found before 1973! Years and years before most of us were even born!! Way way way before apples, cellphones and guitar hero. Or even laptops, CDs and VCRs if you can believe it?!

It's funny, we found all these ways to update technology to make our lives better and faster and compactor and new and improved. But somehow we've turned away from the SUN and the WIND which are out there RIGHT IN OUR FACES EVERY SINGLE DAY. Whispering and occasionally
SHOUTING the secrets of their powers and we're too stupid to listen.