I added an iTunes widget to my sidebar. You have to scroll down…way down. It’s even interesting for me to see. It scrolls artists that I listen to and own. Even I can’t believe all the different names and different music.

You will have to let me know if it says anything about me.

This is probably not a regular Wednesday feature, but I came across this article about flame retardants and cats that I found interesting. I have several. None have thyroid disease that I know of. Apparently lots of cats are getting thyroid disease, and scientists have linked it to flame retardants in furniture. The compounds polybrominated diphenyl ethers (PBDEs). Another source of PBDEs is in canned fish/seafood flavored cat food, such as salmon and whitefish. Cat diets based on fish-flavored canned food could have PBDE levels 12 times as high as dry-food diets. Cats may get more than 100 times greater dietary PBDE exposure than American adults. Another reason to be careful of what you feed your pets. Of course, humans have high PBDE exposure as well. It appears that we are killing ourselves–and our pets–with the chemicals we have used.

This article can be found online in the semi-monthly journal, Environmental Science and Technology, from the American Chemical Society.

About a man named Dusty… Nope, not Jed. This man–a real one–lives on a horse ranch with his foreman Gus and ranch hands Jake and Duke. Now…is it possible to get any more like a country western movie? It’s surreal. Place? Northern California near the mountain range west of Tahoe. Would you believe near the town named after my gold rush greatgrandfather? Time? Present day. No, not 100 years ago or longer. Other minor players include two small boys, coyotes, mountain lions and rattlesnakes. Yep, rattlesnakes. Although this rancher has a computer.

It’s too funny. I could create a whole story just based on these few little facts. Hilarious. It would have drama, a little romance (can’t have the lone cowboy be completely alone) and suspense.

Wanting something is not enough. You must hunger for it. Your motivation must be absolutely compelling in order to overcome the obstacles that will invariably come your way.  ~ Les Brown

If I know what I want, am I more likely to get it? Or will I just be frustrated when what I want doesn’t seem to happen?

I’m actually looking forward to the next few months when I will be very busy. I have gotten back into a “not listening” mode. Pretending that I am listening, but not really. Although I could prove to anyone that I am listening because I can repeat back their words. Does that mean I heard them? No, not necessarily. People often don’t mean what they say or say what they mean.

What’s up with women twisting and turning themselves into whatever men want? Has it always been this way? It seems more prevalent now. That new hot guy you just started dating likes big boobs? You don’t have them, so you go get some. I think that has to be one of the more drastic things to do–surgery to change your body to fit a man’s “ideal.” This ideal isn’t based on reality. It’s based on airbrushed, surgically enhanced and starving models. It’s all about how you look.

Why is it that looks can mask so much? Looks–whatever turns a guy on–can be the biggest blinders to personality flaws. I see it all the time.

I’m guilty of making myself into a pretzel–twisting, turning, adjusting to make someone happy–or at least thinking that way. I haven’t done anything drastic yet. When these thoughts creep into my head at first I feel inadequate. I’m sure you can guess what that does to a relationship. After a few weeks, maybe a month, I realize I must be nuts to conform to some guy’s idea of beauty. It’s time to let him go if he doesn’t accept me for who I am.

Women are smart. Why do we put up with less than we deserve? Why do we allow these distorted images to take over our lives?

I was reading about plastic bags this morning. I had seen awhile back on an environmental site that it didn’t really matter if you chose paper or plastic, but after reading this article (you may need to watch an ad to read), I think I’ll stick to paper like always (when there’s a choice).

Here are the numbers:

100,000,000,000 (100 billion) bags thrown away in the US every year

those bags equal 12,000,000 (12 million) barrels of oil

only 1% of bags are recycled worldwide

only 2% of bags are recycled in the US

46,000 pieces of plastic floating in every square mile of the ocean

Some of those bags sink to the ocean floor and cover up ocean creatures. Some bags get eaten by birds or marine mammals.

For those who thought banning plastic bags in San Francisco and Oakland was  some act of the crazy environmentalists…I think they have a good reason to ban the bags.

The downside of paper is that 14 million trees are necessary to make the 10 billion paper grocery bags used every year in the US. However, trees are a renewable resource, even if they do take a long time to grow.

Perhaps it’s time to buy some really good canvas bags. I have yet to find any.

After reading the headlines for something interesting, I’m beginning to think there are quite a few sickos and perverts around. The one that most caught my attention is the warning in Marin County (quite posh, if you’re not aware) about dogs being poisoned. These dogs may not have gotten poisoned in their backyards though. It appears that they got sick after walking in the park. All three dogs. Two different owners. All three died. Unfortunately, they were with a dog walker. Poor woman who walked those dogs.

We also have a story about a boy who died from injuries and starvation. The mother has been charged with “torture.”

My biggest problems are my back (pain just doesn’t want to let up) and being sore from dance class. Boy do I wish my body would recover quicker after a workout. I almost prefer my bubble to the news. But, of course, most news is negative. The old adage “if it bleeds, it leads” is too true. On to happier thoughts…

I was talking this morning with a friend about the unusual weather we have here this August. We’re unusually cool here. It truly feels like autumn, but we really have a few more months to go.  Many more cooler days will mean that my nectarine tree will drop its leaves early. It looks like it might be in the beginning stages.

All over the unusual weather patterns have made news. I was reminded of this conversation when I read an article about the vole infestation in Northern Spain. Yes, it’s nowhere near here.

But how often is part of a country–any country–invaded by little rodents to the point where it is being referred to as a plague? I don’t know how they count these critters, but apparently there are 7.5 million of the little buggers. Vole counter–now there’s a job for you.

No, the voles don’t carry bubonic, but you can get a similar nasty disease–tularaemia.

While I’m still getting over the disappointment of not being able to tryout for the Tahitian group, I have been busy getting the rest of my life in order. I have the leadership program beginning in late August. It’s our first chance to see who is in the program locally and meet our coaches. Coming up next week I have the first seminar of a series on sex and intimacy. Everyone’s favorite topic. It should be a very interesting seminar if only to see how everyone else reacts to the topic. I have to make time for dance practice and especially conditioning. I never work as hard on my own as I do in class. I suppose everyone is like that. I certainly like the results from just three hours of conditioning and practice–trimmer arms, tigher abs.

The other part of my life to get in order is work, of course, but also dating. I put that on hold over the summer while my son was here. It’s not easy to meet someone new while he’s here, and I would rather spend most of my free time with my son. Actually, I don’t like the dating part…the meeting, the wasted time. It can be fun to get to know someone, but you have to go through so much effort to find one worthwhile.

I’m sore and stiff this Monday morning. I spent four hours yesterday at the halau for competition practice. Three hours of that time was actually spent practicing. It sounds exciting when I say I was at dance practice. What few realize is that dance practice consists of pushups, situps and sweat dripping down your face and soaking your clothes. Now it sounds icky and more like work. Unfortunately, I won’t be going to more Sunday practices (I could really use the workout) because the leadership program I signed up for interferes with the tryout and subsequent practices if I made the group.

Despite being out of breath and thinking I was going to die of pain, I actually had fun yesterday. Lots of fun. There is always next year to tryout, and I will be a much better dancer by then. I have seen a lot of improvement in just a year. I have been dancing just short of a year now. I certainly pick up the dance moves a lot quicker than I used to. I remember them and know what I’m doing right and wrong.