one man's garbage. . . archives | Main
February 11, 2007
Week three: I don't have anything to show, so why don't I just tell you about the stuff I bought?
Let's start with the cake, shall we?
Neither Jessica nor I completed an edition in the third week of our contract. I did actually finish something, but it was absolute garbage and there were only four of them, and while the contract doesn't say that all of the prints have to be good, it does say that there must be at least five. So we're going to pretend that print never happened, and we split both the cost and the eating of the cake (rough punishment, I know). I figure a little failure early on will kick us into gear to succeed later. Perhaps the sugar rush will help.
We took a trip out to Watkinsville on Thursday afternoon and our favourite place to shop around here, Reed's Odds and Ends. This is the place where I got ten fiesta ware mugs for a dollar last summer. Here's part of Thursday's haul:
A box of mahjongg tiles, not a complete set but older and prettier than the set we have; they're bone mounted on a bamboo backing. I'm thinking about making bracelets with them, unless I can think of something better.
Of course I had to have this ugly souvenir plate of Windsor, just because it makes me laugh that I came all the way to Athens Georgia to find it. And because I can see my beloved's office (and the place where the skateboarders play outside his old office window) in one of the pictures. I think it's pretty funny that the nondescript Jackson Park gate is on here, as well as the Royal Canadian Mounted Police front and centre even though to the best of my knowledge they're never actually seen in Windsor, but Willistead Manor, the architectural monstrosity everyone in town seems so enamoured with and proud of, is missing. Also there's nothing on there about Hiram Walker or Canadian Club whiskey or the Big Three. Hmmph. This gem set me back one dollar.
I don't know why nobody told us before that there is a bead store tucked in right behind the yarn store. I used to be a real sucker for buying beads, but years and years of never doing anything with them has cured me of that and now I'm pretty much immune to (and even bored by) the lure of beads. Buttons, however, are quite another thing, and nothing would make me happier than to trade my gigantic hoard of beads for buttons. These lovely vintage glass buttons were forty cents each. I'm not sure what I'll ever do with that tiny one in the centre, but I couldn't leave it behind. I guess I'll use that one as the seed to start my collection of buttons I never use.
Posted by jodi at 09:01 AM | Comments (11) | categories: an edition a week : one man's garbage. . .
February 06, 2006
Unilabial would be sort of scary, wouldn't it?
I spotted this half-an-index-card on the floor of the bus this morning; this is the recto side. The verso side:
It says: voiceless, bilabial, stop
I've decided to take photos and leave things where I found them instead of picking them up all the time, because I've got too much garbage in my life already, and I think it's a more interesting project to work on getting over my self-consciousness at letting people see me pull out the camera and take photos of things like bits of paper on the bus floor.
I want so badly for it to snow. When NPR says "winter storm watch for Northern Georgia", does that include Athens? They really aren't very specific. They don't even tell you the fucking time in the morning, ever, which is yet another example of how badly NPR sucks out loud. The CBC will tell you the time every five or ten minutes, because they know that people are listening in the car and need to know whether they have time to stop in at Tim's or whether that will make them LATE. Here, time is an illusion. As is snow.
It was four degrees celcius this morning, which if I were in Canada at this time of year would be a cue for me to run outside in a t-shirt. But because that's the coldest it's been here, I'm bundled up. The forsythia has been blooming for two weeks, there are trees in flower. I want it to SNOW.
Posted by jodi at 04:52 PM | Comments (11) | categories: one man's garbage. . .
December 08, 2005
No wonder my head hurts
Yesterday I found this great drawing of an old 70s sedan crashing into a tree, on the ground near my house. It looks like there's someone's head flying out the back along with all that gasoline or blood or whatever it is.
All of my deadlines have been met, studio visits have been had, I handed in my sample syllabus for my teaching practicum and met with all my professors. All that's left is to grade the portfolios for my practicum class and tidy up the print shop before I take off to the Great White North. Two more sleeps! By suppertime on Saturday I'll be sitting in our house, in beautiful, beautiful Canada, with my one true love and my fat felines and snow outside and a glorious grape leaves sandwich from my favourite Lebanese sandwich place in my hand. I've been jonesing for one of those sandwiches like you wouldn't believe.
Posted by jodi at 07:08 PM | Comments (7) | categories: one man's garbage. . . : school : self-absorbtion