Tag Archives: carbon footprint

Holy Liberals, Batman! It’s California!

Ohmahgah! So I know it’s been a gagillion years since there’s been fresh juice from this orange, but a quick glance at my reader odometer tells me readership is not down that much. Thanks ya’ll. So what the heck has been happening? Tons and lots and mucho. Once again my social calendar is jam packed to the brim, men all up on my cell phone, ladies all jealous of my fab new haircut and shoe collection. And again just joking. Quick run-down: I moved out of my fab ex-roommates’ house (miss you girls) in Raleigh and came back to live at Casa di Momma Sassy and Poppa Pants for 4 weeks whilst enduring the torture that is 3 weeks of IT training put upon me by my gainful employer. I saw everyone possible, had a fun girls weekend, planned an awesome reunion trip to DC that I unfortunately had to bail on because hey! I moved to California!

There are so many stories I could tell/will tell eventually I’m sure, but for now I want to reflect on things that I have noticed initially that are SO different here on the left coast. Things that I have tabulated in my head over the last 7 days include but are not limited to the following items. There is no sweet tea here. Just “iced tea.” There are LOTS of Prius’s. Like LOTS. And people who drive them are more annoying than usual, with stickers on the back bragging that they passed some emissions test that every vehicle has to pass anyway in this state. Big freaking deal, you’re compliant with the law. There is no good college football, and no one really cares that there isn’t any good college football except for me apparently. I miss Chick-fil-a and Bojangles breakfast buiscuits and potatoes. Children are just as annoying here as they are anywhere else. Weed is about to be legalized here for realz, despite the fact that everyone knows it would get the hold-up from the Feds. I say it’s a good idea because then maybe California wouldn’t be about to declare bankruptcy every day. No one knows how to merge here, so that is something that reminds me of pretty much any place in the world I’ve been where merging is necessary. They love their organic yogurt here. Like in a weird obsessive way. They love organic anything here. The public transportation rocks. No one says “ya’ll” but me. Shampoo costs $20 instead of $6. Gas costs $90/gallon instead of just $2.50. Apartment hunting is just as difficult here as anywhere, but more expensive. A/C is not standard anywhere. Everyone has those weird looking shoe/sandal hybrids that I think are Fugly. The fog over San Francisco is gorgeous. It is not warm here like I thought it would be. And lastly, anyone who doesn’t have a Prius has a Mini just like me. It’s cool but also makes me feel unoriginal, BUT I bet they’ll all give me the peace sign back when I wave UNLIKE everyone in VA/NC who I waved to in a Mini. Jerks.

So that’s my quickie update! I have dubbed my new roomz Big D for lack of a creative genius moment/I’m tired of using Roomz and it’s confusing for all my previous roommates. He’s a nice guy and apparently likes to cook, which I see benefiting me in the future since we all know I enjoy bowls of cereal in liu of real meals on the reg. He doesn’t want to be talked about on this here jank so I will try to respect his wishes, but he must know (if he is reading) that if he keeps requesting to not be mentioned that the chances of me mentioning him increase. Anywho, we are getting along fine and both getting tired of being confused for a married couple. Buying mattresses together gives people that impression apparently, even when you are buying 2 queens instead of just one.

If anyone is coming to visit please do leave a note and we’ll plan some fun times! Alternatively, if you have any recommendations on places I should visit while I am here let me know! I have about 20 weekends until I move away, and I can’t wait to fill them all.

PS! New functions thanks to WordPress/whoever designed my theme! Rate enties, “Like” entries, subscribe to MSP! Subscribers get extra benefits, like being notified ASAP when I post something, and possibly future giveaways. I just came up with that but seriously it could happen. So DO IT.

Random Compilation of Trifeness

We now break from our regularly scheduled program of discussing men 24/7 so I can complain about bad driving and scooters on the road, and perhaps a couple other things. You never know what will come up.

Here in good old Raleigh, scooters are becoming all the rage, and not just in the metropolitan area. People out in the ‘burbs are also being responsible citizens of Earth and lowering their carbon footprint by purchasing and making scooters their number one choice for transporting themselves to and fro. It is so wonderful. I love environmental responsibility and lowering one’s carbon footprint. Woohoo. I have a low emission/fuel efficient vehicle so high five to me, also. Here’s the difference: mine goes regular speeds (and vrooms and purrs quite nicely. Thanks BMW.) and yours does not, seeming to max out at 30mph. The problem with this is that somehow, Mr. Scooter thinks it is appropriate for him (or her) to ride right in the middle of the lane, leaving a long row of crawling real vehicles following irritatingly behind. 30mph would not be a problem except that greater than 90% of roads in suburban areas have speed limits greater than 30mph, and I am very impatient and like to maximize travel efficiency, not to mention drive my car like it’s meant to be driven. I have made up my mind that next time this happens, I will, without reservation or guilt, honk my horn until he or she moves over. And if that person is upset with me, I’ll wave and smile as I drive by. Don’t drop your groceries, cupcake!

Remember in college (so long ago…) when everyone was hungover and unshowered on Saturday and/or Sunday mornings (at a minimum)? For the ladies, it was hair up, hat on, maybe a headband or bag over your head, huge tshirt and sweatpants, flip-flops or Ugg boots. For dudes it was disheveled probably greasy hair, hat, grungy tshirt from the previous night, sweatpants and those moccasin fuzzy slipper things that are super comfy. For both, it included a face depleted of all color while we slowly recover from the ridiculousness that occurred the previous evening/earlier that morning. And being seen in public like this wasn’t really a big deal because everyone else looked just as trife as you. In fact, typically if you are showered and made up prior to mid-afternoon, you are very out of place.

Last Sunday, I was reminded that things aren’t like that in the real world of real people and no college. We went to a little eatery to get some yummy lamb pitas to-go. Upon entering said eatery, I found myself wishing they delivered. Since it was close to 1pm, people were there enjoying a nice Sunday lunch. Families, a group of girlfriends, couple of old elderly couples, etc. We walk in, clad in workout shorts and tshirts, me with a headband covering as much hair as possible, Roomz clutching a bottle of Gatorade, all of us probably pale and ghastly looking. MAJOR judgement faces from the cute showered group of girls in the corner. I mean just oozing. I was THIS close to walking up to their table and saying, “So what, you’ve never been hungover before?” and maybe taking one of their french fries and walking away with a flick of my pony tail. In my head it was funny, but in real life I remained sitting down with the closest air vent blowing on my face.

It has once again been reinforced that IT is the greatest career choice in the entire world. Sarcasm alert. Last night, I had the honor and privilege of coming in to work at 2am to mess around with some servers. Too much IT speak to explain it so I won’t. All you need to know is that some work cannot be done during regular business hours, and there’s no IT fairy who magically fixes things at night. Real people stay up until 2am on a Tuesday (and not at TOTS), come to the office (which turns the a/c off at night because we are a green building…woohoo) and do work. Until 3:45am. And then come back for an 8am meeting. At least this time no one walked up to my cube this morning and said, “Gosh, Miss Sassy, you’re looking rough today!” Men in IT have such tact and know all the right things to say to really make me feel great about myself. Warm fuzzies all around!

Since this is a crazy random post (hence the title), I’ll go ahead and share this gem: I LOVE these. Like, I keep the page open all day every day and will be stalking them until they go on sale and/or I get another coupon from DSW. Trust.

Are You Looking for Snarky Sass and Constant Class? Pick Me!

I love writing. I love writing about trifeness, the news, working, working in IT, not working at all, writing this blog while “working”, parents, friends, cars, carbon footprints, shoes, Bon Qui Qui, and on rare occasions, boys. It is super fun. I suppose by writing and using this blog as an outlet I am making an assumption that people are actually interested and will actually read this jank. And guess what? They do. Thanks to WordPress’ sweet analytics, I can track how many people find Miss Sassy Pants (on purpose or by accident) every day. And surprisingly it’s more than just my loving parents. It’s pretty cool.

Thinking back on my childhood and youth, I think I always had a tiny habit of writing little stories or keeping up with my own thoughts and observations in some way. And yet here I am, as an adult finally, and have a career which involves zero writing whatsoever, aside from requirements documents, reports, project summaries, and the occasional IT Announcement email (it is more difficult than you’d think to keep the snark out of these) which no one ever reads (making it even more difficult to justify not being snarky). That kind of writing though is not fun. I don’t even really know why I didn’t choose something like journalism or English as a major, and instead chose the path that probably has some of the least amount of writing involved. Brilliant. But I have a fab job, and I actually do like it, at least at the moment. This here blog is a fun way for me to spend free time, communicate with my family which mostly lives far away, share hilarious boy stories en masse with girlfriends, impart my never ending man-related wisdom, fill time when I’m bored, and take subtle yet to-the-point jabs at dudes who are lucky or unfortunate enough to come across me in real life. Anonymously of course. And lastly, I really love having an outlet to remind everyone that he’s just not that into you! If nothing else, I really love how my dear mother and father think this jank is so funny. If everyone pledged to stop reading MSP except them, I would still write it.

So what’s the point of this slightly serious and non-dude-related post? It’s developing. I just wanted to share that I love doing it and hope you all love or at least mildly kind of like reading the occasional trife story. If I could make a living being snarky and sarcastic, I totally would. IT is so fab and I dearly love being the only female for miles in a cubicle farm of nerds and geeks, cranking out code and fixing networks. But who wouldn’t love to make a living with a blog? Not sure the paychecks would compare and not sure MSP herself could live off a tiny writers paycheck (see numerous posts about shoes) but she/I would delight in a side job which involved me sharing some sass (and switching from first to third person frequently, apparently). And how about I’ll just come right out and say, if anyone knows anyone who knows anyone who works for any kind of publication that could use some snarky sass and constant class (or a poet, since apparently I am honing my rhyming skills), sign me up. I will write about anything, since it seems the only things that relate every one of these posts is that sass or a lack of sass is involved. Spread the word and share the love ya’ll.

And lastly, a big huge thank you to everyone who takes the occasional couple of minutes (or 20, I know I babble) to make MSP part of your daily/weekly/monthly lives. I love you all. If you ever have a super trife story and think it is worthy of sharing because it is so freaking hilarious and/or trife, do send it my way. Guest bloggers also welcome, after pre-screening for appropriate levels of sassiness and class. Of course, Miss Sassy herself will always have things to share as long as I do not go blind, deaf, and/or slip into a coma. That’s how easy it is.

Never forget: he’s just not that into you.

Random Compilation of Trifeness

Lately I have been in a writing drought and unable to come up with a truly good sassy post, OR I’ve been super busy lounging around for the holidays. Not sure. But not to worry. Supposedly Stella eventually got her groove back, so I guess there’s hope for Miss Sassy’s inspiration. I’ll be going out this weekend so maybe something hilarious will happen. In the mean time, here are some random thoughts and sassy gripings for today, all completely unrelated, random, and unresearched.

I find these email blurbs annoying: “Please consider the baby oak trees in your back yard before printing this email.”  “Don’t print this email unless you REALLY have to.” For all those people that find it necessary to print every email they receive, does this sentence typed in environmentally green font with a tiny picture of a pretty green tree really change anyone’s mind? Hm.

Copenhagen: Why are all the world leaders expelling excess carbon to get together and decide nothing? Anyone else puzzled by the point of it all? Is .02 degrees Celsius really worth millions more people dying of AIDS?  I’m not a scientist, but my rational mind tells me it’s a little silly. Just saying.

Update to all drivers everywhere: turning lanes are for decelerating before a turn. Shocking news, I know! You do not need to slow down in the regular lane and then decide at the last minute you’d actually like to use the turning lane. It’s annoying and hazardous to other drivers, not to mention completely stupid. When the dotted line appears, that’s your cue! USE THE LANE, that’s what it’s there for. Also I know you’re special, but your car does in fact have a turn signal. USE it. Love, the front end of my vehicle which does not want to touch your tail-lights. Gross.

Media: stop talking about Tiger Woods and where Elin is vacationing with her kids now that she is traveling sans cheating millionaire hotty athlete hubby. No one cares.

College football: America LOVES you. So much that ESPN has shown the same clips of Alabama and Texas 2 billion times to see how accurately they can speculate which team will win. Pretty sure Gold’s Gym is closing on Thursday due to lack of people showing up to work out. I know I will be forgoing Xtreme Abs that evening to watch some hunky dudes plow into each other chasing pigskin around.  Yummy. Instead my abs will be enjoying some brews!

Dudes at the gym: yes I am doing squats, and yes you will have to wait your turn. Take your roid rage and testosterone filled biceps to the other bar and stop glowering at me. I finally overcame my fear of being in the weight room and you’re ruining it for me. But gosh you’re cute. And yes I will watch you walk away in the mirror, shamelessly.

Smokers: stop complaining about how cold it is outside and feels like Siberia. You have never even been to Siberia. And if you didn’t smoke a pack a day you wouldn’t have to go outside as often. Thus less complaining and more warmness for you. Also – bonus! – less risk of getting cancer or emphysema and dying. Cool, right?!

Email signage: I love how the new popular signature sign-off is “regards”.  “Warm regards,” or “Sincere regards,” or “happy regards”. It’s one of those words if you say it enough times it sounds really funny.  No really, say it out loud like 5 times. Funny.

I think that’s all for today. Stay sassy kids, and remember: smoking is bad for you, Texas v. Alabama tomorrow, I will print your email whenever I darn well please, AIDS epidemic is worse than global warming, and dear Baby Jesus use the turn lanes! Warmest regards to everyone.

Sassy Science: The Carbon Footprint

Over the weekend, a few of Miss Sassy Pants fabulous Hokie family members came to visit! I love you all dearly, no matter our many varying and differing opinions on certain topics. Having said that, I must address the issue of the carbon footprint, as mentioned by my dear friend, let’s call him Mr. Smarty Pants.  So we’re in the kitchen (after a yummy dinner prepared by Momma and Poppa Pants – I mean SO delish) doing dishes and chit-chatting, catching up on jobs, school, job searches, new bartending endeavors by Mr. Smarty-Pants’ beautiful girlfriend (and also dear friend of Miss Sassy Pants), let’s call her Miss Fancy Boots (girl had on these fierce boots and I loved them so there you go). Miss Fancy Boots is living in NYC at this time and has been making frequent trips down to good ol’ VA to see her loving Hokie fam and adorable bf.  So I asked something about how was it to be flying back and forth so often?  How does Mr. Smarty Pants like seeing his gf so much?  Clearly this is a no-brainer question…so I thought.  She says of course she likes it because she loves seeing us/him so often (duh, we’re all fabulous), but it’s pricey!  He says, “Well I like seeing her but she’s really increasing her carbon footprint!” …I’m sorry, maybe I dropped fettucini in my ear by accident, but I thought I heard him criticize her carbon footprint.  Oh that is what he said? Oh, trife.

So all you dudes out there, pretend for a moment that you are Mr. Smarty Pants and your gorgeous woman lives in a far away city. Pretend also that money is no object for anyone, so Miss Fancy Boots can come and see you as often as you both please! How cool would that be! If you’re a smart man, you’d probably respond in one of the following ways: “Well I love seeing her, but I feel bad that it costs so much!” or perhaps “It’s pretty great seeing her, but I only wish I was able to fly up to see her so it would be more equal!”  Notice I did not mention a carbon footprint of any kind.  Would you?  I mean ladies, how would you react if your man said to you, “Well darlin it’s pretty fab seeing you but I can’t take your enormous carbon footprint! I’d rather you not visit me so often.”  Your next line would be, “Buh bye,” not to mention the fact that your man just used the word “fab” in a sentence. Brnt.

Anywho, here’s my thing.  I love the environment.  I love green jobs, whatever that means.  Global warming is the devil. I hate pollution and I love to recycle everything. Do not send me that glossy catalogue in the mail because it does not recycle people! With me?  But all this buzz about carbon footprint…I’m just not sure I understand it’s pertinence to the individual person.  So, because I don’t like to be uninformed, I did some research!  Intense research, I know.  So the definition of a carbon footprint, according to whomever wrote this thrilling article on wikipedia, is: the total set of greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions caused by an organization, event or product.  Does it say “caused by each individual person on the planet”? No. If Miss Fancy Boots did not fly back and forth 3 times over the past month, those planes would still have flown! They still would have used hundreds of gallons of fuel and emitted the same “staggering” percentage of global CO2 emissions.  Further googling has led me to find that aircraft emissions account for at least 3% of total US CO2 emissions. While this is a fairly large amount, individual people are not going to affect this percentage.  Yes, if every industry that sends its’ employees road-warrior-ing every week decided to employ their employees where their employees reside, then yeah maybe air traffic would decrease, therefore lowering emissions. But kids, until someone invents an airplane that runs on water or something that does not emit this devil gas, and until global business decides it doesn’t want to be global anymore, planes will still fly! Air traffic will still increase! The airline industry will still have ridiculous problems to deal with other than CO2 emissions!

Now. I realize that my profession has nothing to do with the environment or saving the world from CO2 emissions and I do not claim to be an expert by any means.  But I can read, and I took 2nd grade science class. Every human on God’s lovely green Earth emits CO2.  It’s a natural bodily function.  So no duh humans are speeding up “global warming”…checked the global population lately? There’s over 6.5 billion human beings on this Earth kids! It’s grown exponentially over the past century! That’s a lot of people exhaling CO2.  I do not want my breathing regulated.  Point is, while the EPA and other tree-hugging organizations (bless their little hearts) are suing (or whatever) the FAA and/or whatever government body it is that regulates the air transportation industry, Miss Boots (and everyone else for that matter) can keep right on flying as often as she pleases! Because, update! US Airways is not a private company! She cannot charter a 747 all to her hot little self.  I fulling support *most* of these environmental protection agencies (there’s lots of them, I’m lumping them all together, scuse) and their mission to protect the Earth.  I mean that’s what we should do.  It’s responsible, it’s the only Earth we’ve got.  But do not come up in my grill and be all like “your personal carbon footprint is ruining the Earth! Stop breathing!” Not happening.  So fly on Miss Fancy Boots.  I know I sure love seeing you, and if you run out of moolah to buy your plane ticket, I will save my hard-earned cash and come see you instead! Or maybe I’ll take the train! Oh wait, trains emit CO2 also.  Good grief!  Maybe I’ll walk, and hold my breath the whole way.