Thrift Share Monday :)

Vintage New Kids On The Block sleeping bag :)

I've been thrifting like a fiend lately, thrifting good art, bad art, pants, dresses, vintage shoes, and everything in between. I have a big pile of packages in my front room, ready to be sent out today. I haven't been blogging because I've had nothing to say. I've been housesitting and reading good books, swimming and combing warehouses for new and interesting things for my shop. But I need to be back out on the blogging scene again. I need to write, and find reasons to write. I need to work on my novel that I began over the summer (maybe none of this will happen, but I will at least post pictures of my finds).

I would like to post daily over the next month or so, to increase visibility to the reality of Syria and the needs of Syrian refugees. Please take a moment to read up on the most recent news, and donate to Mennonite Central Committee. MCC works to supply the basic needs of Syrian refugees through food, shelter, and the education of children. They are currently working towards raising $1.5M.

Whilst thrifting...

What I saw today whilst thrifting:

1. Two children, in two separate Costco-size shopping carts, abandoned at the back of a large thrift store, parked underneath large shelves, while the adults completely ignored them. One was a baby. The baby was staring at the plywood shelf above him. The two-year-old girl was gnawing on the shopping cart. I wanted to scream at the mother, but I flash-forwarded in my mind to what that would look like, and I walked away.

2. A woman screaming into a cell phone, in between racks of women's clothing, "No! The government will pay! No! You tell her! The government will pay!" I rolled through the options in my mind for what the government was supposed to be paying for, and I lost a good fifteen minutes.

3. A fifty-year-old contractor-looking character, flirting with the busy volunteer behind the register, asking incessantly how old things were, if they were valuable, where they came from, etc. I wanted to say, "Dude! Can't you see she's busy and there are five people in line?!" Dude. She was like eighty years old, and clearly not interested. It was obvious.

I have no title.

DIY sidewalk chalk is particularly amazing :)

I love this store in Oakland that is dedicated to the ethic of reuse. They cater to teachers and artists, people who might benefit from supplies en masse. I like to buy a lot of envelopes when I'm there, stickers, pins. I've never bought as much as I want though, because I have to carry it all around the city.

I would love to start a store like this in my city, a non-profit dedicated to reducing waste and encouraging reuse in creative ways. There was a composting bicycle service for a few years that also had a worm farm, but for some reason they couldn't sustain it (time, energy, manpower), and they went away.

I wish that I could do it all, compost all the restaurant waste, create a place where people could recycle crayons and hang with like-minded thrifty people. I wish I had my own store. But the rummage sale made me think otherwise. It made me think that I don't have the emotional acuity particular to running/operating a thrift establishment. Or maybe I do, but I would definitely need a partner. I have a friend that I could work with every day and not hate it, but I'd have to import her.

btw, today has not been awesome, but I'm getting into Parks & Rec, so yeah.

I prevent erosion.

Don't you want to know more about geothermal energy?

Compost is awesome. I speak from experience.

About a year ago, we had a gas leak on our property. Holes were dug. Large machines had to be used. It was an unfortunate mess for our backyard. And some of the holes still remain today. Well, there are small children around, and these holes make me think that we are always one day away from a sprained, or worse, broken, ankle (I myself have sprained my ankle a couple times, and do not want to hobble anywhere any time soon). So I've ceased to wait for the holes to magically disappear, and decided that I will fill them myself, with the dirt that I, wonderful dirt-maker-me, have created.

I swear, the dirt we create not only keeps schtuff out of landfills, but I'm also convinced that it will help prevent erosion, and thus, the dreaded sinkhole.

Go make some. 

The Hunger Games :)

Why do we want to stop it? I have no idea.

I saw The Hunger Games movie with some friends this summer, and my mind was blown. But of course, as is typically the case, I waited a long time to read the books, mostly because I was so traumatized by the movie. So I had the first book in a pile in my room for six months before I picked it up. Winter break was the perfect time to find motivation to read.

And as is usually the case with these sorts of fads, I ignored them in my "I'm too cool to do what other people do" way, then subsequently loved the entire trilogy. I started aching at the last hundred pages of the first book, knowing that it would be ending soon, and that I didn't have the second one. I ended up reading the second and third books online, which I chose to have no guilt over, considering I could have gotten them from the library.

They were beautiful, and worth every moment I spent reading them. I will probably go back and read them again sometime soon - I loved them that much. It made me feel like a kid again, to get so into a book, so committed to the story. It made me feel like I was carefree and ten years old again, spending days at a time reading, losing sleep, not wanting to stop.

I felt the same way about The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. If anyone wants to share another trilogy, or series, that you think I'd love, feel free to send suggestions :)

How babies are made

Ooo. I do want to know where babies are made. Vintage sex book? Yes please!

Fairly innocuous beginning. Talk about eggs. Good times.

We move to fertilization with an example of a flower. Lovely :)

Holy fuck! I was reading this to my child! Close your eyes, honey.

Oh dear lord. It continues. There is no end to this torture.

Ok, phew. You've redeemed yourself, somewhat, Time-Life Books.

I got into the "Express Lane" today (five items or less), basket in hand on the floor, slowly nudged forward with my foot, enjoying the scenery, happily looking forward to sharing this book with all y'all, when I saw a woman with a fake baby. It was one of those crazy reborn dolls where they're supposed to look lifelike, and then people treat them like they're real. The woman is standing beside the stroller, slowly stroking the hand of the doll, discussing the difficulty she has in finding appropriately-sized clothing, and how she came up with the doll's name. The baby was ugly. This cannot be overstated.

The only time I see people with these dolls is in thrift stores. While in line, I tried to figure out why this is, and decided that thrift stores are the hub for all crazy people (including me), and thus cannot help but attract women with fake babies, showing off said babies to the other crazy people. I began to feel more uncertain of my own identity...

All is well :)

Have you spoken to a child lately?

Like really, seriously and intentionally, had a conversation with a child? Children, who I often refer to as aliens in this world (because everything is new to them), are extraordinarily brave and authentic. I often feel thankful when I remember that I spend a lot of my days working one-on-one with children, children who want to be heard and seen. And it seems like such a small thing, my entrance into their lives, such a small, insignificant thing.

But then I remember how I saw adults who took time for me when I was young. The smallest things changed me. When I was about nine years old, a friend of the family picked me up unexpectedly from ballet. I don't even recall why, but she was going to take me to her house where I'd wait for my parents to pick me up. And on the way home, we stopped by this little burger stand and she got me a burger and fries, and for some inexplicable reason, this seemed like a magical gift to me.

I'll never forget that moment, and how I later felt when she died, that she had seen me in this really sharp, powerful way, and gave me something to hold onto when life continued to be rough. I think that maybe, deep down (because I'm tearing up right now, just thinking about it), she really cared, and somehow, deep down, I could feel that. So every time I see a child, I know how important it is for me to see them, and acknowledge them, that small things that seem insignificant to me, might seem huge and life-changing to them, and I won't let those precious moments go by wasted.

Anyhow, thoughts of the day. Peace out :)

Getting S done.

Having a new job has made me really tired and discombobulated, making me less focused and able to purchase inventory. This is problematic, not because my shop hasn't been making any money, but because the summer bump in inventory can only last so long before it all sells and I'm back to eating oatmeal three meals a day.

So this week, I've been better, intentionally. I've made myself purchase things, even though it takes up-front money, which I don't have much of. It also means waiting in line for 30min. on Sunday afternoon because the whole store is 50% off, and every mother in the neighborhood is buying her children's fall wardrobe, little ones in tow.

But today, I am working hard, photographing and listing, because it needs to be done, and I'm the only one doing it.

Peace out :)

Actually, you're pretty awesome.

We all have baggage. We've all made decisions we regret. I mean, if you're over the age of 30, you've had lovers, haters, and maybe even some pregnancies. You've been drunk one too many times, written one too many poems on your arm, and made out with the wrong person in front of a room full of people.

You've dropped out of school. You've broken up with the love of your life, "...because while he was sweet and sexy and basic, you were afraid you wouldn't be able to discuss Russian novels together (The Deep End of the Ocean, Jacquelyn Mitchard)." You've listened to more Phil Collins and Taylor Swift than you care to admit. You have a tattoo of someone's name that treated you badly. You've loved other people, taken care of other people, more than you've taken care of yourself.

You've hurt people on purpose, and said nasty things that still haunt you. But you deserve to be loved unconditionally, with abandon, just like everyone else, no matter what you've done.

Terracycle.

Over the summer, I found a company called Terracycle, and at first I thought, "this is a sham - after all, I did click on an ad from Facebook to get here". But the more I looked at it, the more I realized that, underneath the kitschy products that look like they were made for tweens (e.g. purses made of Fritos bags), there was a real campaign to eliminate waste.

At my school, in the copy room/mail room/supply room, there are easy-to-see boxes that collect receipts for a local grocery store that donates to the school, then there is a bag that holds those (what are they called?) Box Tops for Education. They're easy to use, and that makes me remember to use them.

Blah, blah, blah. The point I'm working towards (very poorly), is that our schools are places where kids are. And kids need things to do and be excited about. In my city, trash is a pretty big industry, and this program provides a way to both recycle things that would otherwise just sit in landfills, and helps to create and sustain a culture of recycling.

Thrift Share Monday :)

 

I've bought several pairs of vintage Florsheim men's shoes in the past month. I was initially looking for a new revenue source, and looked for what brands were selling well, and I noticed that I wasn't purchasing vintage men's shoes. I'd been focusing on women's shoes. Here's a look at what I'd been missing.

I've found that good photos are key to selling vintage shoes. The more photos, the better. Remember how much you appreciate the experience of touching the items you buy in a store. I think that research is key here. The same shoe can be listed, but only one sells. Why? Sometimes, it's just dumb luck. But most of the time, in my humble unlearn-ed opinion, it's because of the research that goes on before the item is listed.

For example, I found a website with all of the Florsheim styles and their names. Of course, now that I want to give it to you, I can't find it for the life of me. It's okay though, because I looked through 500 styles and didn't find the one I was looking for.

I have really started to pay attention to how I personally react (thought-wise) to how people are dressed. It ain't pretty. I have less respect for people who aren't dressed well, regardless of who they are. It got me to thinking that school uniforms are pretty important. When you feel good about how you look, you act differently. The social concept of dress is important. In Brazil, you did not go out, "into town", without your best clothes on, ever. How often do I walk out of my house looking less than my best? I haven't washed my hair in five days.

In sum, you'll feel better with a nice pair of long-lasting shoes.

Linking up with Apron Thrift Girl.

"Here we come rejoicing"

There's a small out-of-the-way thrift store downtown that I go to pretty often. I don't know if I've talked about it before. The thrift store supports a deep-seated ministry in the city. I don't quite understand what the ministry itself does, though I've been shopping there for years. There have been signs on the wall saying that some money helps kids go to camp, but I don't think I've seen those signs lately.

It's my secret spot. I always find good stuff. Oftentimes, I have to spend a lot of time cleaning my purchase(s), but it's usually worth it.

Anyhoo, there's a lovely woman who works there, and she enjoys listening to children's bible tapes. A couple months ago, children were singing Old Testament passages from the Torah. Today, they were singing songs about Jesus. I told her how much I enjoyed the music. I bitch and moan about Christian music overkill in thrift stores, but I'm beginning to appreciate the nostagia of it. Today, as those children were singing, I was thinking about my childhood, and this album. I've been trying to find some audio, but have been unsuccessful.

"The Hunger Games"

 

In an attempt to avoid spending the evening staring at my bedroom ceiling, I went to see The Hunger Games with my friend and her eldest son.

I haven't read the books, for a couple reasons. The first time I heard about the series, and asked about the premise, I was horrified. Later, I spoke about the books with a different friend, and discovered the philosophical nature of the series. Sufficiently impressed, I decided to read the books over the summer during my decadent book-reading marathon which will commence soon after graduation (Obviously only after I've sobered up and begun sleeping in my own bed again--Ha! As if).

The movie was wonderful, and powerful, and disturbing. The crowd was awful, and horrible, and emotionally disabled. They laughed when they should have cried. I wept all the way home. I wept for our world, where violence is normal, and a brilliant concept like Hunger Games is misunderstood by the masses as some kind of thriller series.

I am saddened by the state of our world, where a film whose cinematography gave me a migraine could draw such delighted crowds, and so many mothers with children. I feel like I should take off all my clothes, cover myself in ashes, and shave my head. I feel like nothing I ever do is sufficient. There will never be enough. The beast of greed is insatiable.

I got a dog.

Ten things about my new dog:

1. Her name is Molly
2. She is small and black
3. She is a Chihuahua mix
4. She's fairly quiet
5. She's been crazy hungry
6. She's a rescue
7. I woke up in the middle of the night, and she was sitting by my head staring at me
8. She's very jumpy and bouncy
9. She came home with poop on her, and when I tried to give her a bath, she bit me--she was so scared, there was a lot going on, and I hadn't let her know who was boss
10. We've got a ways to go before we love each other

Want to adopt a dog? I had been looking at this website for months, and drooling over a dog I could love. I found a bunch that appealed to me, but in the end, I picked up the one who didn't seem to like me, and took her home. I hope we're okay. She sure is cute, and super weird.

Obsessive behaviors

A friend of mine wrote her dissertation on Grace Livingston Hill.

It's been so long, but I'm back to Arrested Development. It's ridiculous the amount of television I consume. I think it confirms my status as a child of the 80s, or something like that. I definitely didn't watch a lot of TV when I was a kid. I was an obsessive reader. I loved anything serialized, because the story never ended. But television was out as an activity because it required me to be with other people.

I read the following series voraciously:

1. Anne of Green Gables (AS + GB = True Love)
2. The Boxcar Children (Um, making a boxcar into a home? Dream come true!)
3. Nancy Drew (Endless thrills down my spine)
4. Mandie (Christian series: Unloved orphan + endless mysteries = Awesomeness)
5. Babysitters' Club (Ah, the dream of being a "grown-up")
6. Babysitter's Little Sister (The step up system to addiction)
7. Laura Ingalls Wilder (Farmer Boy was always my favorite because of the food descriptions)

It's difficult for me to think about kids not having access to books the way I did. I always had books. Always. Books saved me. They kept me disassociated enough from life that I stayed somewhat sane. I read for the whole bus ride to school and back home (or snuck my cross-stitch on the bus until my illicit activity was discovered). I feel like this list doesn't adequately reflect the number of books I read, but this is all I can come up with off the top of my head.

The double bind

I really wish I could take this lot on a beach vacation :)

The web is full of women and girls telling the world how thin they are (or want to be), how clean their house is, how awesome their kids/husband are, and how much Jesus loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life. And in some ways, I'm totally into it. I like "miracle" recipes for carpet stains, and I think the female body is one of the most beautiful things we'll ever see. But I really hate it when I see anything along the lines of "You are single because God is busy finding the perfect man for you."

Maybe I'm subconsciously bitter, and taking it out on hopeful twenty-somethings who feel burnt by men. I really don't think this is the case. I just wish that all of this energy was put towards something more meaningful. Partnering is meaningful, but only to a point. There's a whole wide world out there, and sometimes it makes me sad to see loads of people playing into their aesthetic fantasies, showing off their "perfect" families and homes as if this is the point. It's not.

This isn't a finished thought. I haven't eaten breakfast yet, and I'm trying to recreate a thought that began last night after looking at Pinterest. People aren't evil, and they aren't intentionally oblivious, but sometimes they make me crazy. I can also be pretty judgmental. I'm trying to be an adult, and sometimes that feels awesome, and sometimes it feels really lonely. Here I am at the end of my education, and the beginning of my professional career, and all of my old friends are in a different place. They're happily married and nesting, and I'm living in a garage and freezing at night.

It's hard to know that I waited ten years to tell the person I loved how I felt, and he just walked away.

A thrifty Thanksgiving :)

Ways to be thrifty this Thanksgiving:

1. Cook the turkey carcass and make soup stock (no-brainer)
2. Use real plates (dishwashing time is my favorite)
3. Play lots of non-electronic games
4. Have deep conversations with people you have shallow relationships with
5. Dance or walk after dinner
6. Compliment everyone's cooking (no matter what)
7. Bring something to share, even if it's small
8. Talk to someone you avoid every year
9. Find new things to be grateful for
10. Be yourself. Sometimes in the midst of old patterns, we switch to old personas. Be you, the adult you. Inject newness into old relationships. Don't fall back on old patterns.

I hope your Thanksgiving is warm and enjoyable. I know mine will be.

My life- a regular soap opera

So for some reason, I have received several insulting criticisms over the past few days via the internet. Some were veiled with false praise, while others were just blatantly unkind and unnecessary. Add to this some very passive-aggressive behavior by other people in my immediate life, and you've got yourself a regular soap opera, courtesy of Megan's world.

I was once very sensitive to critique of any kind. But now I hear criticism and I have to let it go, or else I would crumble. I have to suck up my defenses that immediately bristle. Instead of saying, "Hey bee-otch. Why do you find it necessary to be so rude to someone you've never met?" No. Instead, I say, "I am so terribly sorry that you are unhappy. Please let me know what I can do to make this right." There was no response to that particular email. Success! I was somehow able to diffuse a very hostile situation with total submission.

Finally, I take a deep breath, remind myself of the numerous people who appreciate me, and move on with my day.