Pyrex mystery!

Meanwhile, whilst thrifting...I have a bad habit of finding things mysterious to me and trying to identify them. Yesterday I found this small round clear glass piece of Pyrex, marked "France D". It has a sloped base, but sits flat on the taller rims. It has a semi-circle notch on both sides, opposite to one another, that almost look like ashtray ridges. I've looked everywhere. My best guess is that it's some sort of obscure laboratory part. I'm interested in selling it when I find out what it is. It's my current mystère-du-jour.

I'm sitting in bed eating cinnamon toast and listening to talk radio. It's election day and boy do I not give a flying fuck. I am sick of the constant phone calls, the mail full of glossy attack ads, and the general vomit of political signs all over town. I am done done done. No matter how much I care about the issues, come election day, I usually feel this way. The whole process makes me hate to participate, hate to vote. I'd rather pretend to not care than participate in the orgy of power. That being said, I will step away from the computer and go vote, because I need to shut up about everything if I'm not willing to do the easiest thing available to me.

Cheers to all! Happy thrifting :)

Linking up with Sir Thrift-A-Lot's Thirftasaurus :)

Update: A friendly comment from a reader revealed that this is a milk saver! Thanks readers!

I love presents!

I'm not much of a holiday gift giver. Yes, I may give you something for your birthday or for Christmas if it's already in my stash, but mostly I'm an everyday gift giver. I love giving presents so freakin' much - sometimes I can't stand it. I get giddy and smiley and I am so excited until the moment. Today I found the greatest thing, and I'm testing it out right now, and I'm dying to text the person to tell them that I got them an amazing present and I don't know how long I'll be able to wait to give it to them (no, it's not for you, or you, or you).

I don't think I really came into my own as a gift-giver until adulthood. I mean, I've always had the skill, the unusual talent, but I don't think that I appreciated how awesome it was, or realized how awesome it might be for other people until I'd reached my early twenties. I went through a period of time of giving lots of money away secretively. That was fun, and maybe too extravagant for that time in my life, but I did it. I gave lots of money to various ministries I supported and causes I believed in. Sometimes I gave because I felt like I had to (i.e. "God loves a cheerful giver"), but over time, I've stopped giving for that reason.

I was taught to tithe to the church, and I struggle with that. I thought that God would give me everything I needed, and then I would tithe out of that. But when I started to not have enough, I stopped giving to the church. Maybe my financial dire straights (not really dire, just full of debt) are due to this, to my lack of faith. But then I think back to all the times I gave so much to people in need, out of my own abundance, and wish that I could somehow receive that back in kind. Money is funny. That's all I'll say.

I might last another 24 hours. This thing is so perfect, I can't stand it.

Goooood morning!

Art Nouveau Cast Iron Frame - Daydreaming Woman

It's 10:45am, and I'm just starting to feel awake. All my life, I have forced myself to be an early-riser, and now as an adult, I'm finding that that may not actually be who I am. I've just started watching this eBay shop for what they're selling, and have been enjoying looking over the art that they sell. I need to get a bunch of things together to ship this morning, and then I'm going to do some thrifting, see my Salvation Army pals.

I left pancake batter out for a couple days after I didn't use it all. After one day, it made good pancakes. After two days (i.e. just now, this morning), it was disgusting. Lesson learned. I may eat a lot of pancakes for a normal person who does not live in a diner. I'm okay with that. I decided a long time ago that if I want to eat pancakes, I will make them whole wheat/buckwheat, and I won't feel guilty. I will feel awesome for taking care of myself so well.

Someone confronted me about reselling over the weekend, and I responded without ire (very proud of myself for this). "Is that even legitimate?" "Yup", I responded, "without question". This is, at its essence, what all wholesalers do. Office Depot does not make all of its products. Junk warehouses make money from people digging through their wares. This is part of the economy. If you pay attention, it's happening all around you. Farmers sell their produce through stores. I'm all about buying direct, giving business to the little guy, and I'd like to remain in that role. I'd like to be the little guy who collects cool stuff to offer to people who happen to be looking for it, but don't have the time and energy to thrift constantly. I'd like to offer a service to people who love the hunt, but want to hunt on a larger scale (not everyone has thrift stores on every corner). Anyhoo, I was reinvigorated for my task at hand, and will enjoy the hunt that much more today (when I get off my butt and get down to it, of course).

I attend an amazing church that talks about refugees, and yesterday we talked about the Old Testament, the book of Jeremiah, and the realities of war refugees then and now. Please take a moment to read the most recent news about Syria, and consider making a donation to MCC, currently providing direct aid to Syrian refugees.

I sell damaged things.

Vintage magazine advertisement - love those togas :)

Over the past two years of my very short reselling career, I have received some pretty nasty messages from strangers. In the beginning, I may have cried, and now I find them comical. I have the power, I remind myself, the power to block.

I sell damaged things because I am not an expert in everything, but I am a finder of cool things. I like to be a conduit to other thrift-lovers, those who lose to upcycle and rehabilitate. I like being somewhere in the middle of the pack. I occasionally fix things, sew up little holes, but for the most part, I list things as they are.

The Salvation Army stores in my city sell mattresses. They take donations of old mattresses and strip out all of the schtuff away from the skeleton of the mattress, then refill it with new schtuff (foam? fluffiness?) and sell them for low thrift store prices in like-new condition. Another store in town just takes the mattresses apart, but they don't sell the mattresses, so I figure they like being middle-people too, like me, just a cog in the larger wheel of thrift.

Where do you fall in the thrift spectrum? Are you primarily a donater? Shopper? EBayer? How do you find your identity in the pretty-freakin'-large recycling world?

Megan's Thrift Hotline :)

Vintage Better Homes & Gardens Magazine: Fun Outdoor Play Structures :)

Wouldn't it be great if there were a thrift store hotline for your city/area? You could call it if you were looking for something specific, and then make a more direct route to your goal. Some places are just not good "vintage" places. Some places have no jewelry. My hotline will be popular because it will save people time and it will make secondhand goods more accessible because they'll be easier to find. Or I'll just say "check eBay". Sometimes that really is your best bet. Thrifting is a consummate art.

I was thinking of this today whilst thrifting, and some cops came looking for watches. I pointed them in a better direction only to find a farmer (i.e. overalls) looking for "a 1920s suit" ten minutes later. He also needed pointing in the right direction, but in that instance, I didn't want to intervene, reminding myself that sometimes I need to mind my own business. Well, most of the time.

I've been acting like a turd lately, a real ass hat, a tool. I'm trying to stop doing that, to stop apologizing for it, and to just keep being better in general. I fail a lot, fall down a lot, and generally just get into ruts and feel stuck. I keep thinking that I've reached some state of adulthood where I stop making stupid mistakes, saying the absolute wrong thing, and pressing send when I'm angry. But being 30 does not an adult make. Being an adult requires hard work, determination, and a hell of a lot of humility. Unfortunately, I'm oftentimes missing the latter.

Peace out.

I fix things.

Vintage GE Mist-Condition Hairsetter

So in the past year or so, I have fixed the following: my toaster oven, a blender, an aquarium, and a very fancy coffee maker. I believe that in some way, I broke all of them. And when they broke, every single time, I had an absolute freak out. Then I decided to fix them, because what the hell else could I do?

Fixing appliances is a lot less scary than some people think (or maybe a lot of people are like me and enjoy fixing things - I dunno). I'm a clumsy mess sometimes, so am left with the reality that this clumsiness will continually end in some kind of mess.

But in the end, nothing is unfixable. Injuries heal, appliances can be repaired, relationships can be rekindled, and diseases, well, those raw foodies have something to say about that. Perhaps if we admitted to ourselves that things will break, we'd be more open to doing the dirty job of fixing them, sewing up those socks, filling in those holes in the wall, going to see a therapist. Maybe if we acknowledged that we ourselves are all broken, we'd be more okay with the brokenness of other people, and the inevitable brokenness of the world.

Wasteland.

Joanne Sibley watercolor print - She often paints the Caribbean area.

Wasteland (Almega Projects, 2010), a documentary largely conceptualized by artist Vik Muniz, is about trash and landfills in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. It's interesting in many ways because of Rio's focus on general cleansing (e.g. running gangs out of the slums) as they prepare for the 2016 Olympic Games. The documentary focuses on the people who work and survive on the landfills, recycling all of that which can be recycled (as Rio has no separate recycling pick-up services), and even using the food to feed themselves (in very impressive, and non-disgusting ways, I will add).

This film sat on my Netflix queue for ages, as it seemed like something I would like (i.e. it was about trash, and my fantasy destination: landfills!), but I never got to it. Every time I considered it, I felt depressed, and found something funny to do instead.

Eventually, I watched it. It was that moment, when you've been waiting to do something for ages, but just waiting for the right moment. And it was beautiful, full of real human experience and emotion, and the deep raw-ness of working with trash, of being trash, and what that means to a person's soul. It's a beautiful film, both emotionally and aesthetically. Philosophically, it brings the hidden secret world into view, and exposes it for the truth it truly brings to the world and the human experience: those who live off the landfill are the most beautiful people you can find.

I don't know if the experience of these filmmakers could be recreated across the world in other landfill worker colonies, but I'm glad that they took the time to really see the people they researched. They made something beautiful in a dirty, ugly place. They found beauty that was already there.

Mug share :)

Doesn't this remind you of truck-drivers?

I don't know why this mug thing has taken such a hold on me, but it has. It's my thing, and I like having a thing. Maybe when I have a bigger place, I'll have room for some sort of bizarre incongruous collection. I try not to get attached to things, though, so that keeps me from making collections of anything.

The mug only holds a little liquid - false bottom :)

Severe hoarding is a way to hold onto things that we have lost, a tangible way to hold on to the intangible. I've always been super reticent to hang onto things. I occasionally get rid of things, just to make sure I'm not holding on too tightly. That makes me sound somewhat paranoid, now that I think about it. Maybe that's not so healthy, the not wanting to hold onto things.

Somewhere out there is a matching mug that says "me"

I guess I try to walk a fine line between keeping and throwing away, but I don't think I'm very good at it. Just when I think I've figured it out, the pendulum swings in the opposite direction.

Anyhoo, let me know if you collect certain mugs, and I'll be on the lookout for you :)

Mug share :)

B. Kliban Cat skating mug

Kliban mugs are pretty popular. I myself am not very fond of cats. I've become less fond of them as time has gone by. Dogs are better. That's how I feel. Deal with it. Cats are selfish, self-centered, egotistical, etc. They serve no purpose. Rant over. However, if you live on a farm, and the cats take care of rodents, then I rescind my rant, and find them to be quite useful. Not hypocritical. Pragmatic.

Boynton beaver dam mug

I don't find Boynton mugs as endearing as a lot of people, but they sell well, and I enjoy sharing them with others. I'm pretty flush with mugs this weekend, got a good healthy stash going. Storage is always an issue, but they stack fairly well, and can be seen pretty quickly. I had a moment a few weeks ago when I thought about making my Etsy shop into a vintage mug shop, but that seemed to be too much work for the moment, and I'd miss the eclecticism that I've got going, so I've put it off for the moment.

Anthropologie initial mug

I have a coworker who always drinks out of this mug (with her initial on it), so I knew it as soon as I saw it. I'm not as fluent in Anthropologie brands and symbols as other people are, so I lucked out this time. Some people are all about brands whilst thrift shopping. Me, less so.

I am, however, having a lot of trouble dressing myself lately, which is anecdotal at best, but really important to my everyday functioning. Maybe it's the cold. I'm just having trouble with my current sweaters combined with pants, combined with tops, and then I feel like I'm a freakish color wheel with no sense of matching, and then I only have black tights which don't go with much, except black and then I look like I'm in mourning, but I don't want to wear bright colors, because then I'd look even more discombobulated. Or maybe observers think I'm a genius who's too brilliant to be understood. This lack of appropriate matching is only worsened by my hair, which has reached epic levels of fro-ishness, and it's making me have some identity issues.

I'm currently hooked on The X Files, which is awesome. All is well :)

All is not lost, my dear

Oh man, I've been feeling down for a few days. I don't want to call myself a "downer" however, for fear this name-calling would only plunge me back into ceiling-staring-land (or as it was last night, star-staring-land). And I don't want to be hard on myself, since the temperature plunged overnight, the holidays are fast approaching (oh dear lord), and the director of the CIA is embroiled in scandal. Then there's Hurricane Sandy, legalization of being a pothead in Colorado, and the neverending depression of Obamacare. Need I say more? How can a simple girl like me go on living in all of this chaos?

But then, a dimly flickering light in the darkness: lunch at the Armenian place across the street, filled with fresh pita, tzatziki, and the most wonderful falafel I've had in a long time. Suddenly, the world was right again, my blood sugar normalized, and my days-long freak-out ended.

Peace out mofos :)

Yeah right you're moving to Canada.

I've been keepin' this in the bull pen for today :)

People love to threaten to move out of the country if the candidate of their choice doesn't win the presidential election. Whatever. Seriously? Your life is that tenuous? Your life is so tied to your external environment that you wouldn't survive with a [insert opposing party here] president in the White House?

Well, here's a hopeful note from someone who's lived with less than she's wanted for a fair bit of time. Get over yourself. The world is not going to end tomorrow if you don't get your way (nor will mine - I have feelings too). Take some time today to remind yourself of all of the things that you already have, that comfort you in the bad times, and remind you of how beautiful life is in all of the other times. And maybe eat a cookie.

I'll be drinking beer tonight watching the results, maybe probably disenchanted, and maybe eating some sweet potato fries, because those are sounding pretty good right now.

Peace out mofos. See you on the flip side :)

Physical urges.

The ultimate question - "Is it suede?"

I've been sick all weekend, and it's made me kinda crazy. It's also completely taken away any kind of verbal filter I usually have, so I'm saying "fuck shit" whenever something doesn't go my way, which is about every five minutes.

So, I've talked about want before, want in the sense of a physical urge, a primal thing that gets fed when we're young so when we get to adulthood, we understand the process. And the over-consumption of modern wherever is probably some sort of psychological commentary on our ability as a society to effectively cope with that wanting mechanism inside of us.

Well, my want mechanism was extinguished early, so now when I want, I question feelings of want incessantly. If I want something, I try to figure out why, and if I should want it, and what it means that I do/might want it. The whole process is ridiculous, because most people just want something and then they go and get it. But I want something, and then end up cutting myself bangs or professing my undying love to one of several people. Want makes me a crazy delusional person. It makes me illogical.

All of this has to do with sex. So, yeah.

Saving the World

I am super frustrated today by people unwilling to budge a little to admit a bit of responsibility and do something to solve a small problem.

It is my belief that I am an unexceptional (though awesome) human being, and that everyone cares about other people and systemic functioning as much as I do. But time and again, I am proven wrong. Should I trust people selling me their used car? Probably not entirely. Should I assume that other people want to help as much as I do? Probably not. Perhaps I should pay a little less attention to global problems and a little more attention to my own.

I didn't become this way on accident. I was raised to depreciate my own health in the interest of the well-being of others, and this seems to be an issue I'm still working through. Now, my occupation is evidence that I care a lot about other people, and it offers me opportunities to continually manage boundaries, but it is also evidence that my "helping others before myself" attitude is not easily ignored - it's something I deal with regularly, and something I often have to keep in-check.

Call me a fascist commie, but I think that we, as human beings, need to pay attention to one another a little more, and ourselves a little less. We need to think about how our actions affect others a little more, and our smart phones a little less.

Poor and marginal

The test of courage comes when we are in the minority.  The test of tolerance comes when we are in the majority.

 ~Ralph W. Sockman

I was really surprised by some of the comments I got about my landlording posts last week. I admit, I was not very organized in my thinking, and that may have made me come across as judgmental, and I don't like that. I want to affirm that people make mistakes and are not perfect. We are all human, and we all see things a bit askew from how they actually are (perhaps how God sees them). And our skewed views are okay to have. I think the problem comes when we aren't willing to extend a little grace to ourselves and perhaps admit that we might be wrong.

I think it's more important to be flawed and fallible than it is to know everything. I think it's more important to admit being wrong, and maybe not knowing everything, than it is to hold to one's convictions so as to never admit defeat or vulnerability.

I was raised with material possessions. If I made the choice, even today, I could go back to that life. I am poor because I choose to be. And of course, that has become more difficult than I expected it to be, but it's also better than I ever expected it could be. I left a life of plenty, because there was no love, no real unconditional love, and if I have to be poor and marginal for the rest of my life in order to be loved for who I really am, then I will work my darndest to be okay with that.

Peace out mofos :)

Thriftspiration.

El Vaquero Valerio Giuntoli boots - booyah :) Pretty freakin' awesome.

Do you like how big the photo is? Do ya? Do ya? You're welcome.

So in an effort to discover the origin of these freakin' awesome boots, I ended up on Italian eBay, looking at shoes, and boy was that a good time. They were all so colorful! I wish I had a ton of money to spend on shoes.

Why aren't we all buying more Italian leather shoes? I found these blue leather heels. They were unlike anything I'd ever seen, and they made me drool. What can I say? Even I, the lover of trash and all things used, can easily get drawn in to consumerist lust. Seriously, I cannot contain my glee, so I'll share it with you: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 (oh, and I can't resist - 6).

I am spending the weekend probably reading scandalous literature to my mother in the hospital. If I don't keep her adequately entertained, I imagine that she will be more prone to sexually harassing cute young male orderlies/nurses/doctors and blaming it on the morphine. I take it upon myself to be a buffer - not in a codependent way, just in an effort to have more men in my life.

Peace out mofos :)

The death of the hybrid dream...for now

I listed this as a political tie :)

I had some not-so-fun talks yesterday about the car situation. I had to be told, first by a friend, then by my dad, that I need to let go of my used hybrid dream. It's not possible in my current financial situation. It hurts to hear the truth. It really does, but it's the only way to move forward. I've been stuck in the dream, and it's kept me stuck in the Rabbit, which I discovered last night is full of black widows, not because it doesn't run, but because the tree in our front yard has an entire ecosystem existing inside of it.

So instead of the $8000 range, I am now looking more at the $2000 range. Hey, moving from 30+ to 20+ years-old is a move in the right direction. I found an '87 Honda Shuttle that I really like, but the owner hasn't responded yet to my query. A very eager man came to look at the Rabbit last night at 9:30, and wanted to take it right there, on-the-spot, cash in hand. But it was late, and I had blood sugar on the lower side, so I wasn't willing to make such a huge decision. Also, it was dark, and everything looks different when the sun comes up.

My dad says I need to get a Honda. I told him that they get stolen more than any other car. He didn't believe me. I told him that it felt ethically wrong to lower my mpg by buying a new car. He quoted Lenin. That made me feel better.

Operation "Sell Car"

I just returned from the shop. It's my engine mounts, and front axle. $1000. I know I've said this before, but I am done. I am so done. I need a new car, like today.

Operation "Sell VW" commences today.

Helga.

My parents have a cleaning lady. She is disorganized and is constantly misplacing important things. The conversation goes, "Oh no! Helga will be here in 15 minutes. Hide your stuff!" Seriously, it's ridiculous. I have told them a dozen times that they need to let her go, that she isn't doing a good job, and they shouldn't be paying someone to do such a terrible job. Yet she remains.

I just spoke with my mom, and the issue of Helga came up. She is up to her same old shenanigans (though she is not Irish), and I think I'm now reconciled to this reality. She cleans the house. She does a bad job, but she does it, and they need the help. They both work constantly, and need someone to come in regularly to make sure that they don't get buried beneath student papers.

This woman is unemployable in any other situation. It's a gift to allow her to be herself and not demand that she change who she is, or become a person different from who she is (Don't even get me started on how she doesn't bring her own cleaning products). Anyhow, the moral of the story is to allow people to be who they are. I don't exactly believe it in this instance, but I do appreciate the fact that my parents are far less judgmental and stingy than I am.

Thrift Share Monday :)

Vintage tie lot - Six of seven were new!

I have been an excellent thrifter lately, but not such a great person. I guess we can't have it all.

But on a lighter note, I volunteered to do a presentation at my church's family camp on recycling, and the thought of it makes me very happy, a little nervous, but mostly happy. I think I'll make a powerpoint with a bunch of photos of stuff I sell, and then I'll talk about how we can be better reusers and recyclers. For example, I can tell everyone about my USB batteries, the man who fixes my shoes (or how I buy my own heel tips online), and how I made the most awesome dress ever for graduation.

I think that it's really important for recycling/thrift-lovers out there to spread the love in whatever way they can. I am not perfect. I throw things away that I shouldn't because I am not always at-the-ready with a plate, flatware, and cup. But I feel like what I do well is communicate my love of thrift to others. So, fellow thrifters, get out there and spread the love!

Linking up with Apron Thrift Girl :)

Record setting day :)

Thorvald Marthinsen Scandinavian Sterling from Norway

Record listing to selling time: 3 minutes

I listed these spoons at a reasonable price, because I wanted to sell them quickly. I just didn't know how quickly. I'm so proud of myself for taking the time to find all the marks. 

NM: Norsk Monster
N: Norway
830S: Scandinavian Sterling Silver
Chalice/Goblet: Thorvald Marthinsen Solvvarefabrikk (1900-1925)

I think I've made some big gains over the past month or so. I've been selling fewer low-priced items, and that was difficult to do at first. First of all, I have had to work really hard to learn what to look for. Then I had to take lots and lots of risks, and allow items to sit in my shop for months. I had to be confident that I had listed the item at a fair price for its value. I definitely had a few bad days over the weekend. I lost my confidence big time, and I was starting to doubt myself. Self-doubt is normal, and sometimes I need to take those moments of self-doubt to remind myself that all is not lost.

Patience, friends.