This American Life

In yet another hefty leap onto a bandwagon that nearly passed me by, I have to tell you that I cannot listen to enough episodes of This American Life. I love them all. I love Ira Glass. I love listening to any of the tales: from the inside of Chicago's Golden Apple Diner to those family legends that, retold to generation after generation, morphed into an all together fabulous story. Most of all I love that it is on the radio (even though, ironically, I listen to it on the internet). I know, I know, rumor has it you can find it on Showtime, but I just want to listen. What's the frequency, Ira?

I listened to the "Special Ed"-themed show today while performing a minor overhaul of my studio space. This was not an Extreme Makeover. It was more of a Slap-a-Little-Lipstick-On Makeover. A few weeks ago I found out that our local Pier 1 Outlet was going out of business and not only was clearing out everything on the shelves, they were clearing out the shelves themselves! So for $30 I got 2 pretty incredible display cabinets to stack my stuhf in. You know, my fabric stuhf, my notion stuhf, my crafty stuhf. And of course, the amount of stuff you have automatically and obligingly expands in direct proportion to the space you've allotted to store it. Even though I don't feel like I have alot more room now, I do think things are more organized and accessible. In the deepest, most obscure recesses of my being I lust for a type of neurotic organization, although precious few examples of my secret desire can be identified in my life.


p.s. I have been crocheting little cakes like some kind of crazy crafter-baker on crack, and I will post them soon. Norma Lynn wrote me the sweetest little note after my last post. Gotta love her.