This year wasn't as wonderful as the previous years; the City of Madison was doing trash collection every day this year, meaning there were slim pickings. I can't say I blame them; it's probably the most obnoxious time of the year for them. But dudes, you're totally harshing my vibe.
It didn't help that I went at dinner time, instead of after, when people packing their cars get really desperate and start tossing the good stuff. On top of that, work is still totally FUBAR, so by the time I found a parking spot after dodging rush-hour traffic on the isthmus, I already wanted to go home and sleep.
But I toughed it out and found this pitcher. I've come to the conclusion that some college students really like having fancy drinkware if they host lots of parties. This isn't much to look at, sure, but the spigot works, and it will go well with the decanter I got last year. It also makes me want sangria.
Next, I found these awesome boxy shelves. They'll go nicely next to the tea shelf, which is of the same style. Perhaps we'll put all of our teacups out. I know; we're radicals
Then came the weird part of curb shopping.
I was walking down the block, surrounded by piles of junk and lots of trash pickers. I had my eye on a mountain of formerly loved goods down the street when a man elbow-deep in someone's former life called out to me.
"Young miss," he said.
I turned to see one of the Village People. Or he could have been, anyway, with his black leather newsboy hat, a neon yellow sleeveless T-shirt, and an enormophone mustache, complete with dangling cigarette.
"Here, young miss," he said, handing out a bundle of clothing. "More you than me. These look to be your size."
I was flattered at this kindness, but a tad perturbed that he'd sized me up in the brief second that I stood before him. Turns out, he was right - they are my size: both this sleeveless hooded dress/shirt/thing covered with skulls and the pair of black windbreaker cargo shorts.
Don't worry, they got a thorough washing by hand (I won't tell you what color the water turned), and I think they're clean enough to go in the washing machine with the rest of the clothes. Four or five times.
And then I still might throw them out.