Pages

Monday, August 9, 2010

Orphaned Post: My Inner Demon is a Hippie

NOTE: I am what you might call a chronic post starter. I get an idea for a blog post and I start writing it and then when I get out the main part of what I want to say I lose my ability to string words together in a decent sentence or I just can't find the place where the post is supposed to end (which totally drives me bananas insane). Since the posting around here has been a little broken record-ish (OMG I'M LEAVING THE COUNTRY IN 8 DAYS), and I don't feel like coming up with something totally unique, I decided that I would take one of these orphaned posts, polish it and publish it. TA DA.

--

People often like to identify their vices as "inner demons". You can read about them on any number of blogs ... there are tons of self help books or life coaches to help you deal with said demons.

I think it's safe to say that everyone has one or two of them. I know I do (he's my Sad Little Ghost) but in addition to my Sad Little Ghost, I have another little someone following me around. Except that she isn't really a demon. She's more of a ... hippie.

I know what you're thinking, but SuperCareo, wouldn't some people consider hippies demons? And to that I would say, yes there are. But I am not one of them. That being said, however, doesn't mean that I love my Inner Hippie all the time. Or even half the time.

The issue I have with Inner Hippie is pretty simple: she's a talker. As in, she talks a lot. All the time. And she's very hard to shut up. Especially because she's in my head.

When I look outside she tells me about how beautiful the sky is and how I should get a bike so that I won't pollute it with my car. When I'm cooking or cleaning she yells at me when I reach for a paper towel rather than a towel I can toss in the wash and reuse. She even talked me into washing out a plastic baggie the other day - but it's still sitting in the dish strainer, so take that Inner Hippie! Super Careo: 1 Inner Hippie: 0 (but still trying).

Now don't get me wrong, I love the Earth. I want it to be happy and clean. I want to live upon it lightly so that my kids will be able to know what trees are. BUT - there comes a point in the never ending tirade of Inner Hippie that makes me want to throw all of the contents of my recycling bins into the dumpster, or drive around just because and waste a tank of gas or use the paper towels instead of the washable towel and they're Seventh Generation towels doesn't that count for something??

In an effort to bring some harmony into my life (and to get Inner Hippie to shut her freaking mouth already) I am going to start try to incorporate one of my other blogs, Neon Green, into The Flip Side. What this means for you is that you will get to read more about how I am slowly turning into a hippie become more mindful of my behaviors and how they affect the world.

I also want you to know that I (obviously) don't feel like everyone should start turning into hippies. They are generally dirty and smell funny and before you get mad at me I can tell you that I know several hippies in real life and if you asked them they would agree that they should probably take a shower and stop burning the patchouli incense as much as they do.

So please, don't think that I'm turning into some sort of self righteous, "go green or die" sort of crazy nut-job. Mostly I am going to talk about baking (the connection to being a hippie is that I bake from scratch) and the other odd ball things that most people probably would never associate with hippies.

And on that note, I will leave you with this mosaic of cakes that I have made in past month. Yes, that's right, two cakes in a month (hello stress eating!). Don't you wish you lived near me now? (I wish you did too).

1. apt 311, 2. apt 377, 3. apt 315, 4. apt 297, 5. apt 306, 6. apt 380

--

END NOTE: I actually am going to try and incorporate Neon Green into the Flip Side (same with Master of my Money) because clearly I have issues blogging anywhere but here. Also, I think I might need to bake a cake tomorrow after work.

THE END.

No comments: