I did it. Â Finally. Â I chucked that shitty eco-green-earth-kissing dishwasher soap in the trash. And I replaced it with this…can you pick out the environmental blasphemy in this picture??
That’s right greenies, my left  fingernail got sick and tired of scraping yesterday’s dinner off my plates AFTER they had been through the dishwasher. Instead of cleaning my dishes, that eco-soap was simply intent on thermally preserving every single leftover molecule of food in the hopes that I would accumulate a huge mass of thermally  preserved food molecules and thus perform some culinary miracle whereby I smelt all the food molecules together and feed my family a meal of recycled food.  Delish.
And I do this with a clear conscious, mind you. I was cleaning and eating green before the word green meant green. Back when it still was used to describe frogs and those having a sickly complexion. My life was a bizarre puzzle of disparate, uncomfortable symptoms when I was growing up, rashes, migraines, coughs, diarrhea, sleeplessness.  All sorts of weirdness.  It took me years to figure out that certain foods and chemicals have a negative affect on me.  That statement, today, seems like something you would read and say, “well of course, everyone knows that!”  But in the eighties, people didn’t know that and I would never talk it over with anyone, because 1. people thought I was being dramatic and 2. folks thought it ridiculous that everyday items like, say, soap, could make me sick.  Certain things, for example-if freshly dry cleaned pants touch the inside of my thighs, I break out in a rash, the smell of brand new tires gives me an instant migraine.  Ditto for fresh paint, varnish, disinfectant of any kind and bleach. Nail polish makes my fingernails turn white and peel. Fruit or vegetables that aren’t thoroughly washed give me diarrhea in minutes.  MSG and nitrates, no-go. I would sprinkle Borax in my carpet to kill fleas and put chalk on the floor to deter ants because I couldn’t tolerate chemical cocktails like Raid. Yes, my life could be living hell sometimes.
When I went away to college in 1988, my new freedoms gave me room to explore alternate ideas. I saw more clearly the connection between my environment, my food, Â and my symptoms. Â I went vegetarian, completely vegan, for six straight years. Â I bought groceries at health food stores. Before Wild Oats and Whole Foods existed, I rode my bike across town to a little mom & pop health food store that was heavy on the vitamins and incense, and light on the food selection. I liked them because they didn’t think I was strange buying packs of tempeh and bottles of flax oil. I remember paying $5.99 for a jar of natural peanut butter-in 1989 that was highway robbery! Â No soda and ramen noodles for me in the dorm, no way, not unless I was in the mood for a rousing bout of stomach cramps with a side of migraine.
I am so relieved now that consumers have been able to connect the dots and put the pressure on manufacturers to create gentler products. Now that green living has permeated pop culture and embedded itself in the collective consciousness, there’s no turning back. We have options everywhere. Â And finally, I don’t have to explain why I can’t drink milk! Â In fact, everyone around me will join in my milk abstinence, because being lactose intolerant is somewhat trendy right now. Â I suddenly feel so…au courant.
That being said, I threw that fucking dishwasher soap out without a trace of guilt. Â I’ve replaced it with a brightly colored, highly scented capsulated soap that I can’t handle with bare hands. And I gleefully put my CLEAN dishes in the cabinet everyday. I love having choices! Â Eventually I’ll have to quit the bright shiny new soap and go back. Â But for now, I’m digging my clean dishes.
