On Thursday, December 19, 2002, I wrote here, in my very first post,
The impulse to decorate is, as always, very strong. One idea (please don’t steal it, but if you can think of any practical ways to implement it please let me know) is to do a series — I’m not sure of what — could be poems, or fashion items, or paintings — of urban wildlife: pigeons, squirrels, sparrows.
Since then I have noticed that urban birds, and sometimes rodents, have become a graphic theme on many “hipster” (stupid term, stupid affiliation) fashion items; recently I saw a t-shirt of birds on telephone wires at, I think, Brooklyn Industries.
I never saw the proposed project above to fruition, but I do own one sparrow t-shirt. I think of it as my haiku shirt. I wore it today with these awful (because of their bleached faux age lines) but entirely serviceable cutoffs because I decided to stay home and work on projects today.
It’s hot and I’m irritable. When I wasn’t out in the stifling heat, I was trying to write an essay. At the same time my internet connection kept going out. Then I got in arguments online. I decided to hem a skirt, but my serger had come unthreaded. I’m guessing that 99% of you have never threaded a serger. It isn’t fucking easy. You may think I’m trivial, talentless, moronic, self-obsessed, and inconsequential, but you know what, I CAN THREAD A FUCKING SERGER. So there.
Otohime 
When I was middle class I used to have a serger, then I had to sell it. I used to thread it somehow with a baby in my lap.
Brava! That is a major feat.