I just bought a great digital camera, so my posts will become much more photo-filled shortly. But I'll use my lousy little camera to show the progress I'm making on a mod afghan for my boyfriend. It is very slow going, mainly because it's kinda a boring pattern and takes a lot of finishing. But I think it will look great when complete. (It's at the bottom of this post.)
So on the way back from buying my camera, I saw the oddest thing on the 7 train. (It wouldn't be a trip on the 7 train without seeing something peculiar). A man in a navy blazer and warm-up pants was laboriously reading every word of the New York Post. He had it up close to his face as though he's far sighted, his eyes darting quickly back and forth. But then, when he finished a page, he didn't merely flip it and move on to the next article. He loudly and rather ceremoniously ripped it out, then crumpled it into a ball and stuffed it into his ratty duffle bag. A rip in the side of the bag revealed that it was stuffed with the crumpled newsprint. Now, you often see sophisticates practicing their New York Times oragami, in which they fold the venerable old rag into a special shape that allows them to comfortably read it on the subway. But this guy's take is far more interesting. It's as though the paper is so vile or explosive that it must be destructed immediately after reading. Or maybe he just loses his place, and this way he'll never read anything twice. Or perhaps he's just nuts. Gave me something to ponder nonetheless.