I am nothing without Ziplocs

I didn't grow up with Ziplocs. They were considered 'designer'. We only had the grocery store brand, which meant I'd have juice from my orange wedges seeping into my PB&J and soaking my paper bag by lunchtime. It was a fact of life that led to my mistrust of no-name plastic bags!

When I entered college, I worked in the kitchen for a caterer, Louise. My trust issues with zippered plastic bags were confronted head on. She employed these Ziplocs for everything--kasha varinishkas, roasted asparagus, tabouleh--with the dressing!!! This was outrageous! Oil was involved and NOT easy to clean up. I was amazed at her courage to trust something that'd always failed me. Was it the name brand?

She'd pack Ziplocs with banana bread for freezing, fill them with soup--liquidy soup(!) left over from parties not wanting to leave her plastic quarts at a client’s house. She used Ziplocs filled with soapy water and sponges for off-site events with no sink access. Louise had two answers for everything, "Needs salt!" and "Get me a Ziploc!" I slowly began to change my opinion of zippered plastic bags. (And salt. But that's another blog entry.)

It wasn't until seven years after college, when I opened my own catering business, that I began to fully understand the beauty, joy, freedom and confidence these bags offer. I started using them because "that's what Louise did," and soon learned that one of the best feelings in the world was right under my fingertips when that 'meaty plastic zipper' zipped. I knew that that bag was sealed with a lip-locked, zip-locked kiss and wasn’t gonna break or leak. I could sleep easy knowing my PB&J was safe, my marinated mushrooms (with the dressing on!) were contained, my crudites were separated and fresh, and my crostini were airtight and crisp. As an off premise caterer who has to pack up her kitchen for events big and small, Ziplocs not only transport food, they safeguard against oozing dishwashing liquid I travel with, they protect my business cards, license and insurance documents from the inevitable food schmutz that collects out of thin air, they maximize packing space replacing cardboard boxes of kitchen work gloves and most of all, they conserve, protect and defend my peace of mind.

So enamored of these bags, so enmeshed am I, that they show up in my bathroom, my suitcase, my purse, my closet, my office, my garage and even the entertainment cabinet just in case orphaned CD's need a home. They store, collect, organize and protect my toiletries, lipsticks, shoes, pens, various keys from long ago places that I might need again one day, my nuts-and-bolts of life and my precious memories.

I am nothing without Ziplocs! Thank you and goodnight :)

Where do I go from zero?

Went into retailer J. Jill today searching for some work pants. Yes, i work. The salesperson brought me a size 0. Not a size O (as in L, M, N, O, P), but a ZERO, as in nada, zilch, nothing--a big fat doughnut!! Which is exactly what I may eat to celebrate this "Oh-zero-wow!" moment.

Now, I'm not a big girl, but I'm not a skinny minny either. And I am most assuredly NOT a size zero! Honestly, J. Jill, if I'm a zero, then my good friend Andi, whose teneey tiny, must be a size (-)4. Are they making pants in minus sizes now? Or is there a new category coming out, like junior adult? Can Andi shop at J. Jill? I mean, it's been a long time since I shopped, but as I slid into my size 0's, I wondered, "Where do I go from zero?" Could be sticky..........like sticky bun sticky! Dark (chocolate) territory for sure.

I propose retailers, or Congress, or someone make some efforts for size reform--kinda like the credit card companies are having to spell out the consequences of holding $10,000 debt and paying only the minimum each month. You end up paying like, $37,000 by the time your said and done. Ok fine! I'll do it. I propose this blog entry as the beginning of size reform.

This size ZERO thing is ridiculous. I understand marketing, and most of it, I'm guilty of buying into. Dove isn't soap--its a beauty bar. I get it! No harm done. Cheetos are made with "all natural oil." Well, that's pushing the limit, but its relatively harmless. We're not really gonna ever believe that neon orange crap is healthy. BUT SIZE ZERO?! I've always been a size 6 and leading me to believe I'm a size zero could potentially lead me down a very narrow dwindling path that ironically has me celebrating with hot Krispy Kreme O's every week! And then what? I become a 2? Where does it end? Will the retailers make another size-mic shift into negative digits just to make me feel better when I'm asking the flight attendant for a seat belt extender? "But stewardess! I'm only a size 4!" (Sorry, I don't know the pc term for those people on the plane. Actually I do, but it doesn't sound as good.)

When I was 7 years old, or 10, I used to buy clothes to grow into. Now I'm just praying not to grow out of them! J. Jill isn't helping. And they're not the only ones. J. Crew does it, too. Is it something to do with stores starting with the letter "J."

Here's the take away. Save those jeans from college, (unless you fell victim to the freshman 15.) Use them as a barometer, or thermometer, or some-mometer to measure reality. Crazy times call for crazy measures. And size Zero is crazy.