Africanized Bee

In a move that would make Gargamel, Dr. Evil, and Auric Goldfinger proud Monsanto has bought one of the leading bee colony collapse disorder (CCD) research groups, Beeologics, in an apparent effort to cover their sizable tracks and, of course, take over the world.

Monsanto’s genetically modified (GMOs) crops have long been a prime suspect in the rapid decline of bee colonies around the world.  Beeologics was “an international firm dedicated to restoring bee health and protecting the future of insect pollination.” Now they’re… Read Full Article on Celsias

Yes! My own pub!

I was about to jump the border.  At the last minute I got the opportunity to work and live in Europe for the summer. It was a chance to work on a children’s book (8-12 year old age group) that I had conceived 5 years ago and had outlined in full and started the previous year.

Between brushing up on my Spanish, rehabbing injuries sustained when I was hit by a drunk driver in April, finding and packing sensible walking shoes, regular work stuff, lining up someone to take care of my US stuff, and going to play rehearsal for my play Things Unsaid opening in NoHo with one of the best casts ever – I was swamped.

Then…

I found out that NOH8 was doing one of their famous photo shoots in Long Beach, CA about 30 minutes from my house only days before I left town! Must do!

“The NOH8 Campaign is a charitable organization whose mission is to promote marriage, gender and human equality through education, advocacy, social media, and visual protest.”

I’m always big on education as a method of social change, but the truly unique driving force behind this organization is the visual protest i.e. picture campaign launched by celeb photographer Adam Bouska and his partner Jeff Parshley.

Pedro waits in line to take his NOH8 pic

In 2008 California adopted a hard line against marriage equality when Proposition 8 amended the California constitution to ban same sex marriage.

“The NOH8 Campaign is a photographic silent protest. Photos feature subjects with duct tape over their mouths, symbolizing their voices being silenced by Prop 8 and similar legislation around the world.”

This is how the photo shoot worked.  Wearing white (required!) I showed up about 30 minutes early so I was one of the first people in line. (No, cutting corners for you people – I want to experience what you guys will experience, so I stand my ass in line – word!). I filled out a photograph release form, and paid ($40 donation) for Adam to take a few shots. Next a NOH8 temporary tattoo was plastered to my cheek, and finally the emblematic/nerve racking silver duct tape is placed over your mouth. Awkward.  Claustrophobics beware. Then I stood in front of Adam on a white background and he told me how to pose aka what looks best. He picks the winning photo and airbrushes it, so no worries about looking pretty. 6 to 8 weeks later you get your photo.

This is volunteering, in that, you’re taking time out of your day to show up and show support, and it’s also a donation $40.

Now I’m pounding back green tea and Jacob’s Cream Crackers every morning, working on my book, and procrastinating by checking to see if the picture has come back yet.  They said 6 to 8 weeks, but you never know….

The NOH8 Campaign is an inventive and fun way to raise money for a good cause.  In the wake of North Carolina’s decision to ban same sex marriage this month more work clearly needs to be done for equality.

* My NOH8 pic isn’t ready yet so instead here’s a pic of me outside a conveniently named pub.

Thorium, named after the Norse god of thunder Thor, is plentiful in the earths crust, burns almost completely in a Liquid Fluoride Thorium Reactor (LFTR), which is orders of magnitude safer than the uranium reactor, and it is also capable of burning spent nuclear waste.

How plentiful is thorium? A cubic meter of…Full Celsias Article

I’m not a big car person. Just don’t care. Wish I didn’t have to drive one. A car is the last thing I ever want to think about.

That being said, I should never be allowed to write anything about a car. However, I did manage to sell one, on fire, for over Kelly Blue Book. So maybe I deserve a page or two?

Regardless of the fire, the fact that I was able to sell this particular P.O.S. for over Blue Book is amazing. I had driven the thing (for to call it a car was laughable) into the ground. Among the most endearing features my 12 year old black Honda CRV were: a broken interior light from a run in with a surfboard, a missing back mud flap that fell off in the Mojave desert, coffee and soda stains that actually gave the seats their color, and a shaking/gasping/coughing transmission.

For those not in the know – in 2000 the Honda engineers, while designing transmissions, wandered into a field of red poppies and fell asleep.

The CRV was in bad shape, but I loved that worry free car. Like a really heinous date no one was ever going to try and steal it. If it wasn’t for fear of damage to my person I would have left the keys on the roof every night so I wouldn’t risk losing them in the apartment.

When the CRV finally reached the point where sale was the only humane option I reluctantly slid behind the wheel to drive the car to Auto Sales R Us*.

I was a mile from the dealer when I noticed smoke during a pause in the song I was singing to. Quickly, pulling over I debated what to do. Mmmmm… Call my brother. He loves cars.

Brother: What did you do?

Me: Hi, to you too.

Brother: What’s wrong?

Me: Why does something have to be wrong?

Brother: It’s the middle of the day and you’re wining.

Me: The cars on fire.

Brother: I knew it. How could it not be.

Me: Come on.

Brother: What color’s the smoke?

Me: White.

Brother: Where’s it coming from?

Me: Probably the engine.

Brother: Pop the damn hood!

Me: I can’t it’s stuck.

Brother: Well, that’s not good. What does the smoke smell like?

Me: CREED Jardin D’Amalfi. What do you think it smells like?

Brother: Fine. Is it a lot?

Me: No.

Brother: How far are you from your location?

Me: Less than a mile. (pause) Downhill.

Brother: I’m willing to risk it. Coast. Use your emergency flashers.

Me: Thanks for your expertise Brain Storm.

Brother: Stop calling me during the day. It’s weird. (Click)

10 minutes later I rolled into Auto Sales R Us’ and parked within view of the sales office. Smoke was now rolling from under the hood. Great. To the sales office…

But now I was loose. I honestly had nothing to lose unless they charged me for parking it on their property. $10 would probably be a fair price.

Receptionist: Can I help you?

Me: I need to sell a car.

Receptionist: Is the car here.

Me: Yes.

Receptionist: Is it in the lot?

Me: Yup.

Reception: Okay which one is it (tries to look around me).

Me: I don’t want to say it’s the one on fire behind me. But it’s the one on fire behind me.

She rolled her eyes and picked up the phone like this happens at least twice a day.

Receptionist: Can I get an appraiser to the front desk?

After evaluating and appraising the car the inspector asked me if he could talk me through some salient point before giving me a price.

Sure.

Inspector: The car has well over 100,000 miles.

Me: Yup.

Inspector: And it’s over ten years old.

Me: Yup.

He pops the hood.

Inspector: If you look through the smoke here, by the way it was on fire, you see a crack in the engine.

Me: Caught that.

Inspector: I mean you’re really not going to get a better price than we’re going to pay you. Anywhere. I mean I would take whatever the salesman offers you.

Cue chipper salesman who slips up behind me – waiting for his moment.

Me: I completely agree. I mean the only other thing I could do was scrap it and of course I know the price for that.

Inspector and salesman look at each other.

Me: Yeah, big money.

They cracked up, then offered me over scrap and over Kelley Blue Book. I think the moral of the story is – always operate like you have nothing to lose and know how much it is to scrap a car.

It’s a shame my little car had to go in such a manner, but she did leave me with a great tale, and that just proves how well she knew me.

*Named changed because blah blah blah

The Maldives. I want to be here! Now!

“The Island President” is that rare film, which is as effective an enviro-political documentary as tourism video.

Wandering into the theatre to see the tale of former Maldivian President Mohamed Nasheed , and his fight to save his nation from rising sea levels, I left with a burning desire to spend a week on one of the Maldives ’ quickly eroding white sand beaches.  Soon, it might be impossible to visit this stunning archipelago in the Indian Ocean; the islands are disappearing due to rapidly rising sea levels, a result of climate change.

Opening on the 2009 Copenhagen Climate Change Conference or COP15 “The Island President” follows Nasheed as he tries to convince the world to cut carbon dioxide levels to the scientifically recommended 350 parts per million .  The current level of atmospheric CO2 is 392 ppm.  Elevated temperature and changing weather patterns around the low-lying Maldives has already caused large amounts of land loss. Well-spoken and charismatic during the conference, Nasheed faced opposition from… Read More

Shhhhh... I'm Volunteering from The Couch!

Do you like video games?  Do you want to volunteer but don’t want to leave the couch?

Great! I have an activity for you. Go to www.FreeRice.com

FreeRice.com is the Official Winner* of:

• Volunteering Made Easy
• Best Way to Stay Seated and Volunteer
• I Made the World A Better Place While Procrastinating at Work
• Can I Report These Community Service Hours to My Parole Officer?

And possibly…

• The Palme d’Or **

All kidding aside – go play any of the fun trivia games on FreeRice.com. I am partial to the original vocabulary game.

For every right answer FreeRice.com gives 10 grains of rice to The World Food Programme. 10 grains might not seem like a lot but it adds up.  To date they’ve donated almost 100 billion grains. They’re around 95 billion – time to pitch in and help reach a big even number.

I’ve been playing FreeRice for years and can’t believe I never thought of it as volunteering, but now that I’ve done 70 different volunteer activities – this totally counts.

Make yourself smart. There’s an SAT prep game for High School Kids! Feed The Hungry! JUST DO IT !!!!!!

*Made up categories by TheGoodMuse

** Not confirmed

Santa Monica Bay and many of the beaches along the California coast are plagued by… (Read More)

Hi

You do not have to submit to a polygraph to adopt a pet.

Clearly, I have not been doing a good job as thegoodmuse.

My only job is to offer a first person account of volunteering or all thing non-profit so you, my adoring public, might know what to expect when doing goodness.  But I haven’t been covering all bases.  Case in point…

Lucky, the cat from Volunteer Episode 69, was almost adopted after my post about him was published. However, I neglected to discuss what would be required during the adoption process by the rescue organization and the potential adopter was scared off.

So let me clarify the adoption process…

Adoptable kittens.

When adopting a pet you will not be asked to run a 40 yard dash. Your vertical will not be measured.  Your DNA will not be tested.  They shouldn’t ask to microchip you. They will not ask where you like to go on first dates. If they do, you should leave.

A responsible animal rescue group will ask you to fill out an application.

This is what a standard application looks like:

http://www.heavenlypets.org/images/HESA_Adopt_App.pdf

Cute Kitten Learns to Walk

They will ask you questions about your accommodations because they need to make sure that you are allowed to have an animal.  Unfortunately, there are irresponsible people in this world who decide to adopt pets while living in a dorm room, a lean-to, a hotel, or apartment with no pet policy. If the pet is discovered the person is usually forced to give them up.  And there are worse stories… Stories about kids who adopted animals while in college dorms.  Deciding to leave the animal in the dorm when they graduate. Then, the housekeepers show up, sometimes weeks later, to clean the dorm and find the animal expired.

Hate to be dark, but I’m trying to explain why you might have to answer a few personal questions. Honestly, if you want to adopt an animal, suck it up and answer the questions.  They’re worth it.

Laughing in a Paris Cafe

I cut my hair for charity. Again.

To be quite honest, this haircut…  It was kind of an emotional decision.  Don’t get me wrong – cutting your hair for charity is always a good idea. Always. However…

Unlike the last haircut, which I anticipated for a year, this one came out of…  Well, it happened after a particularly rough holiday season.

Oh, I told everyone it was a professional decision.  I was working with a girl with gorgeous long red locks, comedian Virginia Collins, on a project and I wanted us to be different. Sure.

But truth is I was trying to start over at the beginning of the year, like many people, so I chopped my hair. For a good cause.

Pantene Beautiful Lengths were the recipients this time.  They offer wigs to women suffering hair loss during chemotherapy at no cost.  Real hair wigs are expensive and many women suffering from cancer can’t afford them. Pantene partnered with the American Cancer Society for this project and to date they’ve donated 18,000 wigs.

It’s so easy to donate hair to charity it feels like it shouldn’t be volunteering.

Hiding my face so you can see beautiful shiny hair cut. Or just hiding face.

8 inches is the minimum required.  Pantene’s program does not accept permanently colored, bleached, or chemically treated hair, but luckily semi-permanent dyed red hair is fine. Click here to read more on Donation Requirements.

On cut day I went to my stylist and friend for the last 6 years Sheena Rush.  Sheena made sure my hair was straight and braided in a ponytail secured at the top and bottom.  Then she chopped a little over 8 inches off.

I got mixed reviews on the new short do, a few people offered a “Don’t worry, it will grow back.”

Right when I was beginning to feel like my decision was faulty and even a bit self-indulgent my girlfriend Kara put it into perspective, “I remember when my mom got her wig after chemo.  It was such a big deal to her. It was so great after she had felt so bad.”

I like the new short hair. I like what it represents for everyone, me included, it’s a new beginning.

To see if you qualify for one of the wigs call The American Cancer Society Wig Bank at 1-877-227-1596.

Lucky Chillin on my Kitchen Table

It took a long time to write this one, as I’m still a little sad about it:

I was driving across country over the holidays and had the… distinct pleasure… of stopping in Hooks, Arkansas.  The town is made up of a few trailers and two gas stations – one station apparently only takes gold bullion.  I stopped at the other station.

As I walked inside to pay I saw a friendly black cat approach a woman and meow.  The woman kicked the cat.  I literally saw red and ran into the station, “Someone’s black cat just got kicked in the parking lot!” I gritted my teeth knowing what I was going to hear. It’s a good thing I’m fluent in southern hick (being one myself) because the answer came back so thick a foreigner would have been baffled.  I’ll translate to save time,

“Oh lady.  Someone pulled up to the station two days ago and threw that cat out of the car window. It’s been begging ever since. I like cats, use to work at the shelter here, but that one’s not even smart enough to wander onto the freeway and get hit.  It won’t leave. We’ve been calling it Obama.”

What the f&$%!!!!  Oh My God.

“The cat’s coming with me,” I blurted out. Then I internally slapped my face. I was driving to California, a three-day road trip, with no cat supplies. Oh well.

The station worker helped me collect the cat in minutes and handed me some old hotdogs for him. Great. Thanks.

Upon being placed in the car, the cat I called “Lucky,” licked my hand and calmly stepped into the back seat. He curled up, and went to sleep.  He slept all the way to Dallas where I acquired a litter box, food and a carrier.

On the two consecutive 14-hour days of driving that followed Lucky would sleep calmly in his carrier and chow down during our regular food stops.  He gained two pounds in days.  He was silent, only meowing when he had to use the litter box. I would pull over, and put the box outside the car. Lucky would calmly step out of his carrier; use the box and then hop back in his carrier.  I’ve rescued dozens of cats.  I’ve never seen anything like it.

Sometimes we talked.  I asked him about his broken ribs and the bite out of his ear.  He said he didn’t want to talk about it. Cool.

Lucky got strong on the road trip, but upon returning to CA I had to leave town again. I found a foster and told them he seemed to like indoors and outdoors, but because he wasn’t fixed yet keep an eye on him outside.  I kept calling to check on him.  He seemed to be doing great.  But on my return to LA I found that Lucky, left outside to his own devices, had been taken to a shelter by a well-meaning neighbor. AAAAaaahhhhh! After a few panicked hours on the phone I located him at the West LA Animal Shelter.

Back in town I raced into the shelter and as soon as I walked into the room with a dozen or more cages I was greeted by Lucky. He stood up in his cage, meowed, and reached through the bars. The volunteer in the room was awe struck.  He remembered me.  I was so relieved I started to cry.  Now, I had to get him out.

It is not easy to negotiate with a city employee. Lucky would be on mandatory hold for a few days, then have basic medical work done, the only way I could bust him out was by adopting.

I would have to adopt him and then re-donate him to Heaven on Earth who had agreed to keep him in their no kill facility. Because they are saints and I love them. The shelter refused to tell me medical schedules or euthanasia schedules – and the yelp reviews of the shelter were awful as far as last minute euthanasia decisions. I was forced to stalk them for days.  My dumb mistake had gotten him in the clink. I was busting him out.

Finally, on the exact date, at the exact hour he could be adopted I ran in and adopted him.  He had lost all his weight again and contracted a serious sinus infection, but he was in one piece.  I nursed him a few days.  He slept on the end of my bed and greeted me when I came home.  He needed a bath but seemed too weak to have one in my care.

A few days later I had to drop Lucky off at Heaven on Earth Sanctuary with a donation for his continued up-keep and his blanket.

He was the best cat and even though we had such a short time together I miss him.  I hope someone finds my calm, smart lap cat – he’s the best.  To that person I want to say – please take care of my traveling companion.

I’m waiting for updates.  I’ll post them when I have them.

Update 3/16/12:

I just received the following email from Heaven on Earth -

Hi Raagan –

No, Lucky hasn’t been adopted. He is a really great guy, but 7-year-old black cats aren’t in great demand, unfortunately. He’s on our website, which uploads to other adoption sites, and I’ve taken him to adoption events quite a few times where he gets a lot of attention but still no takers. As you probably know, black cats are in shelters in disproportionate amounts.

Farah Brook during the filming of Got Vote

“There was a time when love didn’t equal diamonds,” I explain to a girlfriend whose boyfriend is all but guaranteed to be her fiancée soon. She’s freaking out about whether he’s going to pick the right ring. I’m freaking out because I didn’t think my girlfriends did this.

“But everyone asks to see the ring,” She protests, “It’s the first thing they ask.” This is a disgusting and true statement.

“That’s totally untrue,” I lie. “Not all women like diamonds. Not all women should like diamonds. They’re not exactly good for the environment. The diamonds,” I clarify, “or the women.”

She shakes her head. I’m hopeless. She turns back to the Tiffany ad, which started the argument.

If my friend would listen to me, if what I could tell her would calm her mind, or change her perspective I would have said something like this…

Dame Elizabeth Taylor and her "friends." The diamonds you perverts.

There was a time when love didn’t equal diamonds. Diamond engagement rings weren’t common before the beginning of the 20^th century. Before the diamond boom fiancées sometimes gifted a thimble as a promise to wed in the near future (albeit not an exciting choice – quaint none-the-less). But when large diamond mines were discovered in South Africa in the late 1800, diamond giant De Beers had to figure out how to increase the demand for diamonds or watch the price of the once rare jewel plummet.

“Big girls need big diamonds.” – Elizabeth Taylor

In 1937 De Beers hired N. W. Ayer one of the most successful advertising agencies in the U.S. to rehash the diamond’s image. N.W. Ayer attacked on multiple fronts including… Read Full Article

Mercedes & Kitty Kat

Don’t volunteer with cats if you’re allergic.

I repeat, differently: If you are allergic to cats do not volunteer with them.

En espanol: No voluntario con los gatos si usted alergico a ellos.

Obvious?  You’d think so, but I had occasion to test this.  Here’s what happened…

I set up a volunteer activity with one of the most helpful* volunteer groups of all time – Heaven on Earth Animal Sanctuary.  They have a small house in Van Nuys, which they’ve turned into a cat sanctuary. No, they’re not hoarding. Yes, they have about a hundred cats. Sure, it’s a little cramped in such a small house. But they keep it clean. As possible. Okay look – SOMEONE BUILD THEM A NEW HOUSE PLEASE!!!

Anywho – So I’m suppose to be a volunteering muse of sorts and introduce people to the joys of volunteering.  My friend Mercedes aka super hot Venezuelan/American Actress/Model asked me if she could tag along on an adventure. I’m like, “Hell yeah! Can I take pictures?”

I call Heaven on Earth and arrange a day to come out and help them. On said day Mercedes and I show up dressed to work, step into the house, and her sinuses explode. Everywhere. Within minutes. The first major symptom was her gorgeous bikini calendar eyes get watery.  Now the house is fragrant but still. Minutes later she’s sniffing.  By the time we get to the orientation, which only lasts 5 minutes, she sounds like she has the flu. Finally, while getting the brief tour of all the rooms I turn to her,

“’Cedes are you having an allergic reaction to the cats?”

“I guess so! I didn’t think I was allergic! I’ve been around cats before.”

Cleaning Cat Cage. yeah...

Holy Hell! We have 3 more hours in a 100 cat 2 bedroom. WTF. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not Mercedes fault, but at this point I’m screwed. Unlike other times I volunteer I actually gave them a heads up that I was coming and asked if I could film.  How am I suppose to film when my super hot Venezuelan model eye candy is about to combust?

Luckily, Mercedes is a good sport and more tenacious than she appears.  Some quick maneuvering and she and I were cleaning cat cages outside.  Not as bad as it sounds. We just didn’t get to play with the cats… AND I didn’t get Mercedes being supermodel like pics. Will have to deal with Mercedes looking ridiculously good in glasses and sweats. (Hate her. Secretly. So jealous.)

Afterwards I treated Mercedes to a half gallon of gelato from Pazzo and watched her perk right up.

The morals of this story 1) check allergies and even just comfort level of volunteers before you plunge them into a house full of cats… or anything… I mean even tree planting… people can be afraid of trees. 2) Heaven on Earth rocks because they are a no kill shelter that houses older cats. 3) Always be prepared to bribe with ungodly amounts of gelato.

Mercedes the Cat

Also I did film a bit.  Will work on posting that.

*By helpful I mean they have bailed my butt out of cat jail more than a few times now. They have never said, “No we can’t help you.”  No other shelter can say that.  None. I don’t think they know how to say no.  Thank God.