In middle-school, I made a pair of pants. Strike that, I destroyed some perfectly good denim.

I took some jeans, cut some holes, sewed (by hand, and a shaky one at that) some patches, splattered some paint, and VOILA! Art.

So bad. I probably wore them once, I wasn't fooling anyone.

Well here I am again. I've decided to take some Goodwill trousers, make them into shorts, and them make the leftover material from the cut-off into a sort of satchel... or an elephant-trunk-warmer. Heh.

A bag is just the easiest thing I can think of for the leftovers, but I would like to produce something nice. In times like these, I wish I possessed a sewing machine. Harumph.



I've given up keeping detailed lists of what I was eating. I keep in mind what I've had in a day, but obsessing over every detail led to just that, an unhealthy obsession. Instead I've done a few crunches and put in a few miles on the treadmill, and I have to say, I'm much less concerned.