10 Dirtiest Foods: Tell me something I don't already know!

As if eating packaged food that's been sitting on dirty, dusty shelves for years doesn't gross me out enough. Now The CDC releases the top ten foods that will make you sick. "This should be an interesting read," I think to myself.

Then I see the list. The usual suspects: Chicken, ground beef, ground turkey. All of them can pick up germs? REALLY!? Thanks for enlightening me (insert sarcasm here).

But wait, it gets betters. Raw Oysters could carry salmonella or E. coli? No kidding!? Anything raw for that matter. Thanks for the two cents.

Number 6 on the dirtiest foods list: Cantaloupe. Yeah, the peel can collect bacteria. Did you know that? Yeah, I didn't either (sprinkled with more sarcasm).

Peaches. Yeah, apparently they don't come blemish-free either. Oh and the pre-packaged, pre-washed lettuce you buy probably isn't really thoroughly washed either. "Wash it yourself to make sure it's clean," advises The CDC. Thanks Mom!

Cold cuts and scallions also made the list of the top ten dirtiest foods. I don't know about you, but I don't really have the luxury of eating scallions. As for cold cuts, what am I supposed to do? Soak it in water?

I know, I know. The Centers for Disease Control is trying to educate the pubic about food borne illnesses. But tell me something I already don't know, or better yet spend the money you're doling out on finding out what's dirtiest on changing the way manufacturers, restaurants, etc. handle food products. Now, there's an idea.

Sorry I'm drenching in sarcasm today.

Oops. I almost forgot to mention. Eggs. They ranked number five on the list. "Make sure you cook those too." ---brought to you by The CDC.

I think I want a Cat.

Sitting on the porch, slowly sipping my morning coffee. Although "porch" is an overstatement. People like me don't have a porch. I live in a dingy apartment. I'll start this over.

Sitting in a faded, red chair in my dingy balcony, sippin' my coffee. Not slowly anymore. It's lukewarm now. More like gulping. It's a Saturday, and although it feels like morning to me, it's not. The clouds are blanketing the sky, the wind is howling and it's already noon. I'm quite proud of my mini-tomato garden. Although it's not much of a garden. I have a planter box. Still, I'm curious how "I" managed to grow these plump tomatoes. Is it possible that I'm ready to have a child? If I can nurture tomatoes, am I ready have a little Nineveh running around the place? As if. Growing tomatoes is hardly a litmus test for growing children. It is however a step in the right direction. I think.

Last night my boyfriend and I had dinner with another couple at some fancy schmancy place called "Pago" in Sugarhouse. Great food, although my boyfriend would argue that it was hardly great. I think it was just painful paying. Had it been the other way around, I'm sure the food would have been delicious! Don't worry darling, next one's on me. Wendy's it is. Anyway. We were having a discussion about cats. Owning a cat. He's been bugging me lately about adopting a kitten.

"I just don't know if I'm ready sweety. That's a lot of responsibility, and I can hardly feed myself let alone take care of another creature," I admit at the dinner table.

It didn't help sitting across from the couple with cats. My girlfriend is the borderline cat lady, although not anymore. She has a significant other. I have to think of a new nickname for her. Bless her heart. She only owns two cats. That hardly qualifies her to be a cat lady, but it was always fun giving her a hard time about her cats and the correlation it had to her singleness. Former singleness.

So...here I am. Sitting alone. I sure could use some company. I'm imagining myself, MAC laptop on my lap, writing, coffee cup on the dusty fold-out table, and a kitten nestled next to me . Purring. Prrrrr. Okay, now I'm seriously contemplating getting a cat.

"Babe! Let's get a cat!" I yell.

He laughs. Yeah, I know it's funny. I'll probably change my mind in twenty minutes.

"Eye Candy"

"You're our eye candy." he said to me.

I won't say who, and I won't say when. That isn't important. What's important is the statement itself. I'm a woman who considers herself well-educated, independent and on most days, a professional. I'm not a feminist, but I also don't believe a woman's place has to be in the home. We now have the choice. It's also my prerogative to feel the way I do about the terminology "eye candy". What does it mean to you? I'm curious because I've been taught that, "the only message that matters is the message that's received." It wasn't received well, not on my end anyway.

Like the highly-sensitive woman that I am, I've given the term "eye candy" a lot of thought. I googled it, finding various definitions. I also googled images associated with the words "eye candy". Half naked women popped up on my screen. Enough said.

Either way, this definition quite possibly describes it best and underscores why it was so offensive to me. EYE CANDY: "Visual images that are pleasing to see but are intellectually undemanding."

INTELLECTUALLY UNDEMANDING? Intellectually undemanding? It carries a negative connotation. As if to say that women whom are considered "eye candy" are not intellectuals. And that couldn't further from the truth for most of us.

I asked both female and male co-workers about it. Perhaps to make me feel better about my discontent.

"Would you be offended if you were called eye candy?", I ask a female co-worker.

It's rude she replies, "I'd be offended."

But then I turn to a male co-worker who explains to me that "Men are hard wired to be visual animals." I think he used the word PIG in that sentence as well.

"We're genetically designed to ogle, to stare and to say it." He goes on to explain, "It's not our fault."

I laughed out loud. "Don't worry" I assure him. "I won't use your name when quoting you in my blog."

He breathes a sigh of relief because he knows that his opinions are not the most popular statements. But at least he's honest, and providing a perspective that I may never understand. It did, however may me think about all the "things" we're offended by. Perhaps I'm getting worked up over nothing.

No, I decide. It was offensive. I'm not going to apologize for being myself. I'm standing up for my feelings, and all the women who've worked hard to be taken seriously in the corporate world.

There. I feel better now.

Me in Mexico

(no, that's not me in the picture but he does look like he's having fun, doesn't he?)

It was early Saturday morning. I woke up at 4:30 for the flight, with ease of course. Waking up "that early" is sleeping in for me. And as I opened my eyes, I realized that for the next 7 days of my life, I would feel normal again. Because waking up at 3 a.m. is not normal. But if being not normal means I get to live and breathe my passion, then so be it. For now anyway.

Passport? Check.
Flight information? Check.
Cell phone? Check.
Cash? Check.

I had a laundry list of items that needed to be checked off before leaving my cozy apartment. Finally, rest and relaxation. The hard work is starting to pay off I think to myself. It's been nearly five years, and saving the money for a vacation has not been easy. You've heard the term "starving artist". Although I never would have categorized myself as such, I didn't make a lot of dough out of college. My first job as a journalist? $19,000. You get the picture. Just don't let the number fool you into thinking it was a depressing time in my life. I made great friends, learned a lot about myself and this thing called "reporting".

That of course is another topic in blogs. This is about "Me in Mexico". Several more blogs will follow this one on my trip to Mexico, experiences and such. For now---Mexico. What comes to mind when you think of Mexico today? Swine flu maybe? The drug war? Kidnappings? "Mexico is a dangerous place!"---I quote several of the people closest to me, which made me realize at the time when I was contemplating on where to vacation, that people are fearful. Afraid they may catch the H1N1 virus, even though it had already made its way to the U.S. AFRAID that they may get kidnapped if they ventured away from their resorts. When I declared to the newsroom, "I'm going to Los Cabos, Mexico!" my co-workers snickered "Don't get kidnapped for ransom." Of course they were kidding, I thought to myself. But I could not ignore the stories I had heard and read about in the newspapers recently.

WAS IT SAFE FOR TOURISTS TO TRAVEL TO MEXICO? I was about to find out for myself.

"Airport Adventure"

It didn't take long (minutes after landing) for a local to approach us about attending a time-share presentation at one of the local resorts. If you've ever experienced it, you'll know they are persistent, rarely accepting no for an answer. I, however gladly obliged, recalling the time my family and I listened to a grueling sales pitch years ago. The payoff? FREE activities. I managed to negotiate a snorkeling trip, Sunset Cruise (dinner & drinks) and a Glass Bottom Boat tour. Plus, the 30 dollars we spent on the shuttle from the airport to OUR hotel. I spent much of Saturday in the pool, taking in the spectacular view of the deep blue ocean and stuffing my face with food. By bedtime, I contemplated whether or not meeting complete strangers for a "time-share presentation" at 8 o'clock the next morning was a good idea. All the news stories about drug cartels and kidnappings raced through my mind. Nah, I thought. But I woke up with apprehension, and as I walked out of my gated hotel to meet a taxi cab driver, waiting to take us to a resort selling time-shares I couldn't help but to question our safety. We were alone in the taxi, "Is anyone else coming?" I asked the driver in English. He shook his head no. I turned to my significant other, "What if we get kidnapped" I mouthed. He rolled his eyes and chuckled.

Clearly, we DID NOT get kidnapped. We did however, have to listen to a sales man named "Jeff" for three painful hours, trying desperately to convince us why we should invest $16,000 dollars in a one-week time share per year for the next 30 years of our lives. I downed two mimosas, and told the guy "Listen, I'm not signing anything."

p.s. Does anyone own a time-share? Thoughts!? On the surface, I think the whole thing is a scam. An attempt to rip tourists off...that could just be the journalist in me though.

In the end, we left with our three activities and a free bottle of tequila in tow (which by the way was crushed in our luggage on the way home to Salt Lake City. Now I'm stuck with a laundry basket full of clothes that stink like tequila.)

Anyway...Day One was an interesting adventure to say the least. It made me realize despite the very real danger of the drug war in Mexico, there is no reason for "tourists" to be scared of visiting the resorts.

That's my two cents.

Meanwhile...good reads.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/10/world/americas/10mexico.html

http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/world/la-fg-mexico-summit10-2009aug10,0,584254.story