There's a new Laura in my orbit. I am trying to be her friend because she's so damned cool. We had a minor set back when I confessed that I write on graph paper with a Sharpie. Apparently both are sacrosanct, but together are some kind of nedry abomination.

Writing implements: $varied
Rotary cutter: $8
Seam ripper: $worth its freaking weight in gold

Beer: a $2 quilting necessity

Not so neatly organized workspace: may cost me a potential friendship

*ps: this quilt is going to be one hell of a masterpiece . . . the unveiling will happen all at once. But you should bate your breath or whatever.

Your eyes deceive you not. This is a bolt - a bolt - of glorious tacky IKEA fabric c.2006. Every other time I've said I have found the Holy Grail, I have lied. This is it . . . perhaps until next week. I'm a fickle creature prone to great highs and lows. Oh well.

Textile deliciousness: $10 for 7.5m at Goodwill

Let me not delude you, my lifestyle of second hand treasures and found objects is not all games and fun. There are some sadder, tragic even, moments.

This scarf is one. She was perfectly folded. Creased in the way that only factory fresh scarves are. Neatly sitting on the exact corner of a desolate Saturday afternoon Bay St intersection. I scanned around, chased a few women, but could not find her owner and decided that some other not-rightful owner would adopt it soon if I did not.

Orphan: $0, sidewalk find.

I hope you all have a friend like Julia. A friend that is weird and understands your kind of weird. One who can make fun of you in a good way. A friend who will stare at your spandex clad rear dangling from a rock climbing wall without complaint or tolerate obnoxious but (fairly) innocuous social behaviour (both drunk and stone sober, though there's usually not much difference for Erin). A friend who knows what presents will make you cry, gets them for you, and stands there (in public) and watch you do it without too much judgement. A friend who brings you pharmaceuticals at lunch so you can get your pale, sweaty self to the end of a horrid work day. A friend who understands that a trip to David's Tea is like taking an 8 year old girl to Disneyland for a party with Cinderella.

Tea pot (right): $3.99 at Goodwill

Tea, gossip, and adventure: $0 to $3000 depending on what we're up to

I've officially exhausted my wine procurement methods. With the purchase of a retro looking green & orange label white last week, I have no more interesting labels left to try. Penguins, fat hippos, fish bones, and grooved bottles form the complement of empty bottles in my wine rack.

Then, the universe gives me these. Heck, I'm sure these fine vessels will literally turn tap water into wine.

Wine glasses: $2.99 each at Goodwill

So when I flunk this life and get reincarnated as an endangered Argentinian tree frog, how do I climb back up the infinite rebirth ladder if my best sense of morality is letting my tadpoles have the first choice of swamp flies?

Book on Buddhism: $0, destash heap at school

Karmic confusion: $0

I bought this most excellent coffee table book of early 19th century photographs of Hawaii for this picture and this picture alone. I always think I'm buying these books to cut up and craft, but I get so attached to these big heavy works that I think I had best run out and find some Hawaiian kids and figure out the Technocolor wash on Photoshop and make my own pretty pictures.

Book: $.99 at Salvation Army

One of my favourite junking mantras is "That's a lot of happiness for $x."

Napkin ring: A lot of happiness for $.99 at Salvation Army

I think the person who first thought "it's the little things in life that make me happy" was probably talking about miniature tin cans of utter cuteness.

Small joys: $.10 each at rummage sale

U-G-L-Y you ain't got no alibi. You ugly. Hey! Hey! You ugly.

Fimo: $0, destash from Emily

Ugliness: $0, it's gotta happen every once in a while

Being a attention starved middle child, I kinda need an audience for pretty much everything. Unfortunately two pairs of eyes on the Phillies game at a bar wasn't the best pick to rave about this rad button I found on the street moments earlier.

Found object: $0, street find

Indulging Erin: also $0

Sometimes when I'm feeling so utterly uninspired I just organize my beads. Push them around. Dump 'em on the floor. Make a mess. Sort. By colour. By material. By whim.

Then I feel better. Then I feel guilty that I have $4k worth of beads to my sorry broke-ass name.

Containers: $1 each at Dollarama

Beads: $untold hundreds, but cheaper than therapy