Yellow tigers crouched in jungles in her dark eyes
It started with my volunteer stint at Rockin' for the Hungry. I could only stay for an hour or two, and I wasn't sure what I could contribute. I was happy to hand out flyers and somewhat grateful that they didn't immediately assign me to loading detail, only because I wasn't sure about my ability to hoist heavy bags up into a truck1. They had me doing a little of that for a while, and I had a moderate amount of success; some people took the flyers, and some said "no, thank you," but ALL of them listened and looked at me. This was actually a bit of a shock, as I'm used to living in a place where people see activists as entities to actively ignore, if not verbally harass with a rousing, "Get the fuck out my way." But my real success came a bit later, when I walked over to the info table to get some hot chocolate. There was a box of complementary CDs (provided by the Ann Arbor-based Borders Books and Music) for people who were kind enough to donate to the cause. One poor schmuck was looking through the box and made the always fatal error of looking at me and saying, "So, got anything good in here?"
Five minutes of lengthy discussion, demographic analysis and psychological profiling later, the donor was walking away with a lovingly assigned CD and I had been given a new purpose - music guru. Finally, my music geekery is applicable to charity work, and I no longer feel as guilty for not having ridiculous amounts of money or mad fundraising skills. Eventually I had to go back home, but I was still pleased with myself. It was only going to get better.
Next stop was the nearest Jo-Ann Fabrics to find fleece remnants for to make the Insta-Scarves. I was prepared to pay $12 or $13 for the stuff, as I'd grabbed four remnant bundles of varying sizes and prices. However, there was a 50 percent discount on that fabric in general, with an additional 75 percent off because they were remnants. Final price? $2.65. I'll be able to make about eight scarves with what I got, from what I can tell. I may have to go back there and get more of the stuff, just because I'm grooving on the fact that I can make something really useful without having to know how to sew. This would, of course, mean I'd end up making them over next weekend, so I need someone to talk me out of this right now because I have to Clean My Apartment Like Woah. Otherwise my boyfriend is going to
So what else happened? Well, the $50 gift certificate from Borders that our company gave us for the holidays, combined with a Borders Rewards card, saved me a crapload on Christmas gifts, I found a bunch of awesome postcards at an antique store that I can use for my project, and I finally found out where Trader Joe's is located here in town, so I now have a brand new money sink to replace the old one I was forced to leave behind when I moved. They'll know me on sight in a month, you mark my words.
God, I fucking love Ann Arbor. I'm starting to think it loves me, too.
1I'm supposed to avoid the "heavy objects above shoulder height" thing because of my loose and not-so-charmingly spontaneous joints, but I usually just keep my mouth shut and do it anyway because I don't want to come across as a whiny, prissy, spoiled bratlet who's afraid of getting her hands dirty. Dad wouldn't stand for it, for one thing, and I figure that if something were to happen and I was left in screaming, nauseating agony, I could at least make the most of it and try to break my own record of four hours with no fixes or examinations by medical professionals.


