Kristy tagged me for this random facts meme. Seeing as how she's been nothing but sweet to me, the least I can do is tell you seven random things about myself. Who's it gonna hurt? (Crafting content will resume asap.)
Rules: Each person tagged gives 7 random facts about themselves. Those tagged need to write in their blogs the 7 facts, as well as the rules of the game. You need to tag seven others and list their names on your blog. You have to leave those you plan on tagging a note in their comments so they know that they have been tagged and to read your blog.
1. I can't stand orange-flavored things (e.g., candy, soda). Real orange things -- like the well-known fruit, the orange-- are perfectly delicious. My aversion stems directly from eating too many baby aspirin as a child. (I also despise olives and cilantro, but that is a direct result of their being disgusting.)
2. I can't ride a bike. Laugh all you want. It is what it is.
3. I love office supply stores and bookstores. The good ones fill me with a profound sense of calm.
4. I stopped drinking caffeine in December of '06. Prior to that, I drank several Cokes a day (regular - never diet, in a can - not a bottle) for many years. How else would I have been able to get through all those years of grad school?
5. I don't eat red meat or any of the cute animals (e.g., lambs, ducks, pigs). I am gradually backing my way out of all the meats. (Ha HA! Dirty!)
6. I hate shopping for clothes. Hatehatehate it. For a bazillion reasons. One of those reasons is that I really like beautiful clothes, and those clothes are always super-expensive. And I just can't be a part of that. That is not how want to spend my millions!
7. I believe that anything is possible as long as you've got a team of folks to support you in that thing. Really.
Instead of tagging seven other people, I'll do this: If you have a blog and want to take part, feel free to say so in the comments, and we'll all head over there straightaway to learn random things about you!
Memes!
P.S. I have another small batch of items coming to me from Superbuzzy, and boy are these items cute. You'll see.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Monday, May 14, 2007
New category needed
Hey there, everyone! I'm back. And I have so many things to report.
We'll start with the trend that seems to be emerging, and I'm not quite sure what to call it. "Interesting people"? "Random people"? "People who are all up in my bizness despite my minding my own"? After this story, you'll see what I mean.
So, my posse and I were up in Vancouver for a conference (as I mentioned). The weather was spectacular - clear, cool, downright magnificent. In part because of the weather, and in part because we like to eat delicious things, the lot of us decided to take a stroll one afternoon in pursuit of gelato. (Gelato really has nothing to do with this story. I just wanted to mention it because it was very delicious.)
We'd finished our gelato and were walking along, the six of us, minding our own business, when we were approached by a man wearing a long trench coat and carrying a few full grocery bags. His tone was very casual, but he did end up standing closer to us than we are generally used to.
DUDE: I'm very hungry.
US: We're so sorry.
DUDE: Can you give me some money? I'm hungry.
US: Sorry. We don't have any extra.
DUDE: Look at me. I'm homeless!
US: Oh.
DUDE: I smell like shit and everything!
We were all caught off guard by his deconstructive analysis of the situation, but we responded with our usual, genuine kindness.
US: Wow. That really sucks.
I couldn't help but notice that he did not smell like shit. While I was noticing this, he was pausing for a moment to consider his next move.
DUDE: How about a cigarette?
At this point he moved in very close to my face.
ME: Mm, sorry. We don't smoke.
DUDE: You don't.
He took a moment to consider this, and I think decided he needed to kick it up a notch. He said this next part really slowly and deliberately, like maybe he was on his way to a tirade. And he was still quite close to my face.
DUDE: You know what you are? You are fucking--
ME: The worst.
He was caught off guard for a second. He hadn't anticipated my honesty about who were were in this situation, but he liked it. I swear I saw a twinkle in his eye. He was still mostly not pleased, but at least he had some good material.
DUDE: The worst. The fucking worst. You are the worst of the worst!
ME: Yeah, we'd have to agree.
We somehow then parted ways, and the group of us tried to make sense of what had happened exactly. We were all pretty surprised about how calm yet in our space he was. My PIC said that it might have helped his cause "if he'd hidden that six-pack of beer." But more than anything, we were all quite taken with the idea that we'd just been called "the worst of the worst" by a man who seconds before had said he smelled like shit.
Vancouver!
We'll start with the trend that seems to be emerging, and I'm not quite sure what to call it. "Interesting people"? "Random people"? "People who are all up in my bizness despite my minding my own"? After this story, you'll see what I mean.
So, my posse and I were up in Vancouver for a conference (as I mentioned). The weather was spectacular - clear, cool, downright magnificent. In part because of the weather, and in part because we like to eat delicious things, the lot of us decided to take a stroll one afternoon in pursuit of gelato. (Gelato really has nothing to do with this story. I just wanted to mention it because it was very delicious.)
We'd finished our gelato and were walking along, the six of us, minding our own business, when we were approached by a man wearing a long trench coat and carrying a few full grocery bags. His tone was very casual, but he did end up standing closer to us than we are generally used to.
DUDE: I'm very hungry.
US: We're so sorry.
DUDE: Can you give me some money? I'm hungry.
US: Sorry. We don't have any extra.
DUDE: Look at me. I'm homeless!
US: Oh.
DUDE: I smell like shit and everything!
We were all caught off guard by his deconstructive analysis of the situation, but we responded with our usual, genuine kindness.
US: Wow. That really sucks.
I couldn't help but notice that he did not smell like shit. While I was noticing this, he was pausing for a moment to consider his next move.
DUDE: How about a cigarette?
At this point he moved in very close to my face.
ME: Mm, sorry. We don't smoke.
DUDE: You don't.
He took a moment to consider this, and I think decided he needed to kick it up a notch. He said this next part really slowly and deliberately, like maybe he was on his way to a tirade. And he was still quite close to my face.
DUDE: You know what you are? You are fucking--
ME: The worst.
He was caught off guard for a second. He hadn't anticipated my honesty about who were were in this situation, but he liked it. I swear I saw a twinkle in his eye. He was still mostly not pleased, but at least he had some good material.
DUDE: The worst. The fucking worst. You are the worst of the worst!
ME: Yeah, we'd have to agree.
We somehow then parted ways, and the group of us tried to make sense of what had happened exactly. We were all pretty surprised about how calm yet in our space he was. My PIC said that it might have helped his cause "if he'd hidden that six-pack of beer." But more than anything, we were all quite taken with the idea that we'd just been called "the worst of the worst" by a man who seconds before had said he smelled like shit.
Vancouver!
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
I'm long and I'm strong and I'm down to get the friction on
That thing was catchy, right?! I am tired of magazines telling me flat butts are the thing. So say we all.
Have I already gone on the obligatory rant about how this Chevron scarf pattern is in a book called Last Minute Knitted Gifts? If I have, forgive me. If I haven't, would someone be so kind as to explain to me how - really, how - it would be possible to knit this at any minute that one would call "last" without seriously compromising one's hand health and/or sanity? Boy oh boy. These people.
Also, please note: my PIC, B-SNAK, and my sidekick and I are all headed out of town first thing tomorrow for a conference. We'll return late Saturday. In order to keep you from getting too sad or missing me too much, I've chosen a post for you to read for each day I'm gone. These are some of my favorites from last year (I think they're all last year).
Wednesday: Huh. That's funny. On mine it said failure was an option.
Thursday: This creeps me out.
Friday: None of my beeswax
Saturday: Half-Fetching review
You can pace yourself, or you can read them all now. As with all things, it's really up to you. Have a great week!
Have I already gone on the obligatory rant about how this Chevron scarf pattern is in a book called Last Minute Knitted Gifts? If I have, forgive me. If I haven't, would someone be so kind as to explain to me how - really, how - it would be possible to knit this at any minute that one would call "last" without seriously compromising one's hand health and/or sanity? Boy oh boy. These people.Also, please note: my PIC, B-SNAK, and my sidekick and I are all headed out of town first thing tomorrow for a conference. We'll return late Saturday. In order to keep you from getting too sad or missing me too much, I've chosen a post for you to read for each day I'm gone. These are some of my favorites from last year (I think they're all last year).
Wednesday: Huh. That's funny. On mine it said failure was an option.
Thursday: This creeps me out.
Friday: None of my beeswax
Saturday: Half-Fetching review
You can pace yourself, or you can read them all now. As with all things, it's really up to you. Have a great week!
Monday, May 07, 2007
A tale of tall yarn. Poorly illustrated.
My PIC called me one night with a very serious question.
PIC: What kind of yarn do you think you'd want?
ME: What?
PIC: My sister is in Argentina, and she said she found a yarn district! Like three full city blocks, just of yarn, and all of it is about one or two dollars a ball. But she has no idea what to get. What should we get?
My PIC's sister is not a knitter, but she knows how much her sister loves the yarn. Sweet, right?
So together my PIC and I strategized about how to explain to a non-knitter how much yarn is required to make a particular item. We were not very good at this. At all. Particularly because the measurements that were needed were in grams, and we don't know a damn thing about grams. We're lame. We also can barely do this ourselves when we're looking at the yarn in the yarn store. Really.
So we did the best we could to explain chunky vs. worsted weight and grams vs. yards in an e-mail to my PIC's sister, and we sucked at it. Hard. But we thought it was really kind, and figured we'd get a few balls of yarn for cheap, and that would be awesome.
Meanwhile, my PIC's sister did what any (crazy) person would do in this situation, you know - a situation where the information is kind of vague but the heart is in the right place: She bought a metric f*ckton of yarn.
I was made aware of this a few nights later via a dark, blurry photo sent to my phone. It was of my PIC lying on a bed that appeared to be covered in what looked to be yarn. My PIC told me it was a lot of yarn. I thought that was very generous of her sister, and I sent my warm thanks.
But you know what? The warmth of my thanks was not commensurate with the amount of yarn we are talking about here.
When I went over to my PIC's to see the yarn, I didn't take my camera. I didn't think it was necessary. Error.
My PIC's sister had managed to cram two tall -- I mean tall -- and full -- so, so full -- bags of yarn into her already stuffed luggage. How she did this, I'll never know.
Because I could not wait any longer to show you just how much yarn we're dealing with here, I created this super-ridiculous drawing for you. These bags really are up to our waists. And they are full of yarn. Hanks and hanks and hanks of beautiful yarn!
(Note: The person in this drawing has no head and grey shoes to keep my PIC's identity private. While she does have a head, she would never wear grey shoes. Also, if I'd drawn her head, it would've looked just like her - because I am that good - and we can't be having that.)
Once Joann's ships our ball winder and swift -- very necessary in this situation-- I cannot vouch for our productivity in the rest of our lives. It's gonna be all ball winding all the time. Our houses will be overflowing with yarn cakes. And then you'll see. You will all see.
Hilarity will surely ensue.
Argentina!
PIC: What kind of yarn do you think you'd want?
ME: What?
PIC: My sister is in Argentina, and she said she found a yarn district! Like three full city blocks, just of yarn, and all of it is about one or two dollars a ball. But she has no idea what to get. What should we get?
My PIC's sister is not a knitter, but she knows how much her sister loves the yarn. Sweet, right?
So together my PIC and I strategized about how to explain to a non-knitter how much yarn is required to make a particular item. We were not very good at this. At all. Particularly because the measurements that were needed were in grams, and we don't know a damn thing about grams. We're lame. We also can barely do this ourselves when we're looking at the yarn in the yarn store. Really.
So we did the best we could to explain chunky vs. worsted weight and grams vs. yards in an e-mail to my PIC's sister, and we sucked at it. Hard. But we thought it was really kind, and figured we'd get a few balls of yarn for cheap, and that would be awesome.
Meanwhile, my PIC's sister did what any (crazy) person would do in this situation, you know - a situation where the information is kind of vague but the heart is in the right place: She bought a metric f*ckton of yarn.
I was made aware of this a few nights later via a dark, blurry photo sent to my phone. It was of my PIC lying on a bed that appeared to be covered in what looked to be yarn. My PIC told me it was a lot of yarn. I thought that was very generous of her sister, and I sent my warm thanks.
But you know what? The warmth of my thanks was not commensurate with the amount of yarn we are talking about here.
When I went over to my PIC's to see the yarn, I didn't take my camera. I didn't think it was necessary. Error.
My PIC's sister had managed to cram two tall -- I mean tall -- and full -- so, so full -- bags of yarn into her already stuffed luggage. How she did this, I'll never know.
Because I could not wait any longer to show you just how much yarn we're dealing with here, I created this super-ridiculous drawing for you. These bags really are up to our waists. And they are full of yarn. Hanks and hanks and hanks of beautiful yarn!(Note: The person in this drawing has no head and grey shoes to keep my PIC's identity private. While she does have a head, she would never wear grey shoes. Also, if I'd drawn her head, it would've looked just like her - because I am that good - and we can't be having that.)
Once Joann's ships our ball winder and swift -- very necessary in this situation-- I cannot vouch for our productivity in the rest of our lives. It's gonna be all ball winding all the time. Our houses will be overflowing with yarn cakes. And then you'll see. You will all see.
Hilarity will surely ensue.
Argentina!
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Blogger drives me batty
I thought I'd be extra clever and add some of my favorite links in the sidebar. You know, sewing blogs, knitting blogs, etc. Doing such a thing is supposed to be a very easy set of steps.
Supposed to be, shmupposed to shmee. As of right this moment, Blogger is fighting me on this. So you'll notice that my list of favorite sewing blogs is currently at the very top of my sidebar, making it seem as though those are my sewing blogs somehow. Not the case.
I will try to correct this asap.
In the meantime, have you heard the Jonathan Coulton version of Baby Got Back? I highly recommend it. The link is to a video of him performing it live, and it makes me very, very happy. (Before you head over there, you should know that I wake up with it stuck in my head more mornings than I really care to admit. So don't say I didn't warn you.)
Edited to add: If you listen closely, you can hear the crowd doing a bit of the call and response. I just noticed you can hear the men in the audience singing "L.A. face with an Oakland booty" in all the right places. Hilarious!
Supposed to be, shmupposed to shmee. As of right this moment, Blogger is fighting me on this. So you'll notice that my list of favorite sewing blogs is currently at the very top of my sidebar, making it seem as though those are my sewing blogs somehow. Not the case.
I will try to correct this asap.
In the meantime, have you heard the Jonathan Coulton version of Baby Got Back? I highly recommend it. The link is to a video of him performing it live, and it makes me very, very happy. (Before you head over there, you should know that I wake up with it stuck in my head more mornings than I really care to admit. So don't say I didn't warn you.)
Edited to add: If you listen closely, you can hear the crowd doing a bit of the call and response. I just noticed you can hear the men in the audience singing "L.A. face with an Oakland booty" in all the right places. Hilarious!
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Our trip to the so-called craft store
My PIC and I went to the big, corporate craft store in her part of town yesterday. Oh, the adventures!
We were standing in line to buy our items, and I picked up a package of big star-shaped sequins that was in the clearance bin, just to see what the hell they were supposed to be for.
LADY: Those are really pointed.
All of a sudden the lady behind me was talking to me.
ME: Oh?
LADY: Yeah, I bought them once, and I thought I could wear them, like as a bracelet or something, but then I put it on and "ow!" So I tried it in my hair, and it just was terrible. Don't buy those.
LADY: Oh, ok. (I put them back in the bin.)
LADY: I'm making a costume for Cinco de Mayo.
About in her early sixties and quite tall, she stood there smiling and wrapping some ribbon back around its spool. She was very cheerful.
LADY: It's going to be white and red and green. The colors of the Mexican flag. I'm Mexican. At my church, they're having a thing, and my friend said, "I'm going to be working in the kitchen." And I said, "Why?" And she said, "Because they're having Mexican food, and I'm Mexican." So I said, "I'll work in the kitchen, too! I'm Mexican!" I love to tell people I'm Mexican. One time, I was in Miami, and I was on a tour, and the guy on the bus was telling us all about Miami, how they have all kinds of Latinos there. He said "We have Nicaraguans, Puerto Ricans, Cubans. Not like in Texas. In Texas, they have Mexicans."
She leaned forward and squinted her eyes when she said that last part. You know, for emphasis.
LADY: So I said really excited, "Oh! I'm Mexican!" And I raised my hand up like this! And then he shut up. Because he'd said Mexican like that. Mexicans. He knew what he did.
ME and PIC: Wow!
LADY: Yeah, another time, I was on a tour bus and I didn't even tip the guy because...
She went on and regaled us with about three more stories about her run-ins with racism, never losing her very cheery tone. She made sure to tell us that she always spoke up about it.
LADY: Yeah, that's me. I'm outspoken. Not like my cousin. She's real passive. You know, a pacifist. But not me! I always have to say something.
ME and PIC: That's great!
By this point, my PIC and I were up to the register and had to turn away from her to pay for our things, and the lady seamlessly, I mean with the grace of a ballerina, turned to the guy behind her and continued on.
LADY: You know, one time I was at a church function, and I saw these ribbons, and I thought I could make those, but I didn't know if I had the time, because I was going on a trip.
Spreading the gospel, this lady. The gospel of speaking up, in a cheery tone, when people are being tools.
How great is that?
We were standing in line to buy our items, and I picked up a package of big star-shaped sequins that was in the clearance bin, just to see what the hell they were supposed to be for.
LADY: Those are really pointed.
All of a sudden the lady behind me was talking to me.
ME: Oh?
LADY: Yeah, I bought them once, and I thought I could wear them, like as a bracelet or something, but then I put it on and "ow!" So I tried it in my hair, and it just was terrible. Don't buy those.
LADY: Oh, ok. (I put them back in the bin.)
LADY: I'm making a costume for Cinco de Mayo.
About in her early sixties and quite tall, she stood there smiling and wrapping some ribbon back around its spool. She was very cheerful.
LADY: It's going to be white and red and green. The colors of the Mexican flag. I'm Mexican. At my church, they're having a thing, and my friend said, "I'm going to be working in the kitchen." And I said, "Why?" And she said, "Because they're having Mexican food, and I'm Mexican." So I said, "I'll work in the kitchen, too! I'm Mexican!" I love to tell people I'm Mexican. One time, I was in Miami, and I was on a tour, and the guy on the bus was telling us all about Miami, how they have all kinds of Latinos there. He said "We have Nicaraguans, Puerto Ricans, Cubans. Not like in Texas. In Texas, they have Mexicans."
She leaned forward and squinted her eyes when she said that last part. You know, for emphasis.
LADY: So I said really excited, "Oh! I'm Mexican!" And I raised my hand up like this! And then he shut up. Because he'd said Mexican like that. Mexicans. He knew what he did.
ME and PIC: Wow!
LADY: Yeah, another time, I was on a tour bus and I didn't even tip the guy because...
She went on and regaled us with about three more stories about her run-ins with racism, never losing her very cheery tone. She made sure to tell us that she always spoke up about it.
LADY: Yeah, that's me. I'm outspoken. Not like my cousin. She's real passive. You know, a pacifist. But not me! I always have to say something.
ME and PIC: That's great!
By this point, my PIC and I were up to the register and had to turn away from her to pay for our things, and the lady seamlessly, I mean with the grace of a ballerina, turned to the guy behind her and continued on.
LADY: You know, one time I was at a church function, and I saw these ribbons, and I thought I could make those, but I didn't know if I had the time, because I was going on a trip.
Spreading the gospel, this lady. The gospel of speaking up, in a cheery tone, when people are being tools.
How great is that?
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
What are you looking at?
Why, yes, I do have an X for a belly button.Would you also care to comment on how I'm pantsless and wearing a bow tie?
Go ahead. Be my guest.
If it makes you happy, have at it.
(Why you must judge, I'll never know.)
But, I highly recommend this style. I think you'd find it very breezy, yet formal.
To each his own, I suppose.
More on that guy, and on these:
Later, my pretties. Later.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Fabric makes me woozy
Right?I'll tell you all about it, once I'm able to get up off the floor.
Also? I still love Ryan Gosling.
That is all.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Approved!
The designer and creator of these awesome slippers gave the go-ahead in yesterday's comments to post photos of said slippers. So here they are!
I did not make these. But I want to make them. Real bad.
So cute!! Want the pattern? Click here.
Want to go to Superbuzzy, who has shipped my bird fabric and made me all atwitter with anticipation, and who alerted me to these slippers in the first place? Click here.
Now. Here's the next question.
Do you want some awesome/geeky/clever/great badges that would look really cute on some slippers if they really existed as badges? I know the answer is yes.
The Order of the Science Scouts of Exemplary Repute and Above Average Physique has constructed many, many super kick-ass nerdy badges, including an arts and crafts badge. The duck pictured above is the "destroyer of quackery" badge:
Hey! After you look around, come back and tell me:
(1) which badge(s) you think you deserve, and
(2) which badge(s) you would get in that other life you didn't get to have because you were so busy having this one.
Badges and patches are cool!
I did not make these. But I want to make them. Real bad.
So cute!! Want the pattern? Click here.
Want to go to Superbuzzy, who has shipped my bird fabric and made me all atwitter with anticipation, and who alerted me to these slippers in the first place? Click here.
Now. Here's the next question.
Do you want some awesome/geeky/clever/great badges that would look really cute on some slippers if they really existed as badges? I know the answer is yes.
The Order of the Science Scouts of Exemplary Repute and Above Average Physique has constructed many, many super kick-ass nerdy badges, including an arts and crafts badge. The duck pictured above is the "destroyer of quackery" badge:
"In which the recipient never ever backs down from an argument that pits sound science over quackery."Click here and look at all the glorious badges. If you're a hard-core nerd/geek/cool/hip kid, you won't be disappointed. (via BoingBoing)
Hey! After you look around, come back and tell me:
(1) which badge(s) you think you deserve, and
(2) which badge(s) you would get in that other life you didn't get to have because you were so busy having this one.
Badges and patches are cool!
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Crochet redeems itself. For a moment.
I don't know that my overall position has changed on crochet (read about my overall position here), but these *cursing* *cursing* slippers really go a long way toward elevating the form.
Click here to see. They are called Babushka ballerinatofler. [I would've put the photo here, but they said right there I couldn't, so I didn't. Just go look and come back.]
Did you see those little iron-on patches?!
And the soothing shape of the slippers themselves?!
Yeah. So, I'm looking at these things, I'm punching stuff because they're so cute, and I realize I may have to re-give in to the crochet.
I'm guessing the designer is trying to win a toaster for recruiting crochet skeptics (or she's just a kind person), because she graciously shares her pattern here. In two languages!
Never let it be said I'm not flexible or willing to reconsider the merits of something. You can fairly say I'll be grouchy about it, but you can't say I won't do it. Because I will. This post, if nothing else, should demonstrate that.
(These slippers are via Superbuzzy, who - for some reason - thinks I live in an area not served by the US Postal Service, and so will not let me order that godforsaken bird fabric already. Yeah. Just a little grouchy.)
Crochet!
Edited to add: Problem was not with Superbuzzy, but with the USPS. The lovely people at Superbuzzy responded promptly to my concern, and my order is officially placed! Woo-hoo! Bye-bye, grouchies. Hello, bird fabric!
Click here to see. They are called Babushka ballerinatofler. [I would've put the photo here, but they said right there I couldn't, so I didn't. Just go look and come back.]
Did you see those little iron-on patches?!
And the soothing shape of the slippers themselves?!
Yeah. So, I'm looking at these things, I'm punching stuff because they're so cute, and I realize I may have to re-give in to the crochet.
I'm guessing the designer is trying to win a toaster for recruiting crochet skeptics (or she's just a kind person), because she graciously shares her pattern here. In two languages!
Never let it be said I'm not flexible or willing to reconsider the merits of something. You can fairly say I'll be grouchy about it, but you can't say I won't do it. Because I will. This post, if nothing else, should demonstrate that.
(These slippers are via Superbuzzy, who - for some reason - thinks I live in an area not served by the US Postal Service, and so will not let me order that godforsaken bird fabric already. Yeah. Just a little grouchy.)
Crochet!
Edited to add: Problem was not with Superbuzzy, but with the USPS. The lovely people at Superbuzzy responded promptly to my concern, and my order is officially placed! Woo-hoo! Bye-bye, grouchies. Hello, bird fabric!
Monday, April 23, 2007
Venn diagrams are hilarious
My beloved NWAI just sent me this link to a Village Voice music review that I highly recommend.
(Please note: It has very little to do with crafts. It has diagrams, but that's pretty much where its relevance ends.)
Here's the point. This article manages to attend to my love of thorough-going analysis, my loathing of tautology, and my love/hate relationship with hip-hop.
I haven't heard the song being reviewed, but this article does a good job of piquing my interest.
And I do love those Venn diagrams.
(Please note: It has very little to do with crafts. It has diagrams, but that's pretty much where its relevance ends.)
Here's the point. This article manages to attend to my love of thorough-going analysis, my loathing of tautology, and my love/hate relationship with hip-hop.
I haven't heard the song being reviewed, but this article does a good job of piquing my interest.
And I do love those Venn diagrams.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Things I'm loving
Chevron Scarf. Lumpy, but growing.Where have I been? What is the deal with my not posting? So sorry. For a stretch of time there I couldn't even find my computer. Turns out it was buried beneath Quiltie and Articles (Quiltie and Articles -- a play in three acts -- can be seen at a community theater near you). Things have settled down here a bit, so things should be back to normal in the posting department.
So, I was gonna write a whole post about how much I love Ryan Gosling. I really was. I was going to go on and on about how I have a physiological reaction when I see him, a reaction that is truly beyond my control, and about how I found out only recently that he knits scarves, and how that information was just gravy on the already-delicious mashed potatoes of my love for him. But it became clear that, were I to write about that, it would quickly become super weird and creepy.
Kinda like it just did.
So! Hey! Here are two other things I am currently loving, that are not at all creepy or weird! Just lovely and delicious. I assure you.
First: Color combination sites.
Colourlovers is one, and the color palette above is Grapevine Marmelade.Kuler is another, and I've mentioned it before.
As I've said before, whether you're looking to put a room together, design a greeting card or a scarf, or figure out how you want to color-code your files, these sites are inspiring, fun, and useful! Check them out.
And, second: The magic and beauty that is Hillary Lang.
Wee Wonderfuls is her teeth-shatteringly great blog. When you go over there, be prepared to view an ungodly number of cute things. If you aren't ready for cute things, or you are allergic or something, then I'll advise you to steer clear. Unless you like stuffed robots. Or kick-ass quilting. And in that case, I'd say take a pill and get on with it already.
Recently, blog people were all abuzz about one of her quilts, and for good reason. When you click on the quilting link above, it's the red quilt. Look closely to see that where she made mistakes on the quilt, she sewed on strips of fabric with words of caution/advice on them. Genius! Seriously.
There are other things I'm loving, like the 12-week old apricot poodle puppy I saw today out at the farmer's market, and the Kiwi Strawberry Hansen's soda my sidekick bought for me the other day, and the new couch we have which puts a person to sleep instantly with its cozy powers.
I think I will go sit on that new couch right now and work on the Chevron Scarf.
I bet Ryan Gosling would approve of this scarf. But that's neither here nor there.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
There he is.
Look who came out of hiding for some re-marking.
I think Quiltie's had some time to think. And so have I, frankly. And after this period of reflection, I've realized I've got a tedious, tedious job of ahead of me, but one well worth the trouble.
I shall re-mark every mark that Quiltie went and ate back in the day.
I'll do it because it's long overdue. I'll do it because it's an exercise in revisiting unfinished business. But mostly I'll do it because, after that mocking from my Craft magazine, I've gotta do something to reclaim my craftiness.
I think Quiltie's on board this time around and won't try any foolishness. Just to be safe, though, I'm going to use that Hera marking tool which makes inedible markings. (Not indelible. In-edible. He ate my markings last time!)
Sorry, Quiltie. Let's just get some time under our belts, and then I promise we'll regain that trust. Someday soon, I'll sit under you like Betsy Ross, stitching and whistling a tune. And that will be just grand.
Quiltie, everyone!
I think Quiltie's had some time to think. And so have I, frankly. And after this period of reflection, I've realized I've got a tedious, tedious job of ahead of me, but one well worth the trouble.
I shall re-mark every mark that Quiltie went and ate back in the day.
I'll do it because it's long overdue. I'll do it because it's an exercise in revisiting unfinished business. But mostly I'll do it because, after that mocking from my Craft magazine, I've gotta do something to reclaim my craftiness.I think Quiltie's on board this time around and won't try any foolishness. Just to be safe, though, I'm going to use that Hera marking tool which makes inedible markings. (Not indelible. In-edible. He ate my markings last time!)
Sorry, Quiltie. Let's just get some time under our belts, and then I promise we'll regain that trust. Someday soon, I'll sit under you like Betsy Ross, stitching and whistling a tune. And that will be just grand.
Quiltie, everyone!
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Transforming traditional crafts, indeed.
My third issue of Craft magazine is mocking me.You call yourself a crafter?
When's the last time you set some stones in a bit of twisted wire? Or made your own lip balm? Or silkscreened something?
When??
Never?
Huh.
Okay. Well, when's the last time you made some doll clothes?
Yeah. That's what I thought.So, have you ever stuck eyeballs on anything? Like, say, a lamp?
No?Fed up and sure I'll never say yes to anything, the magazine dispenses with the questions and just goes with a list.
Used a mold. Recycled pull tabs into art. Made a finger puppet.
Still, nothing?
My magazine shakes itself at me. (Not having a head, this is the best it can do to demonstrate its overwhelming sense of disdain.) Unable to resist, it hurls the obvious last zinger at me before slamming itself shut.
And you call yourself a crafter.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
When good intentions happen to good people
These little angora booties are from the very tasty Last Minute Knitted Gifts, a book full of absolutely beautiful items in it for the knitting. So soft and cute and soothing and wee.
How are your teeth? Hurting? Yeah. I thought they might be. Here, let me help you out with that. You don't want to go through your whole day with painful teeth.
Aaaaaaargh! My eyes! Your eyes! Ooof! It's a trade-off, the teeth for the eyes. Not sure which is worse. But, man that is unpleasant to look at.
Allow me to explain/defend/ask for your support and pity.
First of all, the yarn is not that bright in real life. Really. I'd tell you if it was. It's a perfectly reasonable shade of... that color.
Second, my local yarn store does not carry angora. They may physically push you over if you've got a good yarn combination in your hands, but they draw the line at selling you yarn made of bunny. Aren't gonna do it. They will sell you this incredibly soft and fuzzy synthetic yarn as a substitute. Perfectly ok by me. I've got no stake in knitting with angora. Fine.
Nice lady working at the yarn store: You will have to double this up, but that won't be a problem. Just use both ends of the ball of yarn at the same time, hold the two strands together, and knit them like they were one strand of yarn. Oh, also! While you're knitting, be sure to keep the ball of yarn in a very small Ziploc bag. Very small. Like snack-size. Otherwise you're gonna have a huge, tangled mess on your hands. You don't want that, and I don't want that. You'll hate me.
Me: Ok.
Gratitude for still standing upright at the end of this exchange? Enormous! Giant, flapping red flags being waved right in front of my face? Ignored!
Me (at home, later that afternoon): La la la. Let me get a little Ziploc bag. I'm gonna make some booties! (I look in the cupboard. Gallon-sized only. Too big.) Huh! Well. I'm not going to leave the house in this situation, because that would be excessive. What can I use instead? What oh what? Hey! My PIC gave me these cute zip-top nylon bags. One of them is quite small. That should do just fine!
It was a tight squeeze, but the lady did say "very small". There was a little concern at this point that the yarn might get caught in the zipper while I was knitting, but the concern was overshadowed by how cute those booties were gonna be. Cute!
So, you know what? The yarn getting caught in that zipper was so the least of my problems. I wish that had been my biggest problem.
For this pattern, it's pretty imperative that you be able to see your stitches on the needle as you're knitting. You know, like this is a stitch. Let me put my needle in there. Not, is that a stitch or is that just fuzz? Or, is that both strands of yarn or just one? Or is it just fuzz?!
I won't curse at this time. I'll allow you to imagine the most colorful string of expletives you can, and then insert them here. Because right here is where those go. I can tell you that very clearly. I am quite sure this space right here is not fuzz, so you can put your curse words here with confidence.
{sigh}
So, this is pretty much a disaster for the reasons I've alluded to. I now have the wrong number of stitches on my needle, and there's this crazy thing you have to do in the pattern where you can't just cheat. I would rip the whole thing out and start over -- maybe not doubling the yarn -- but the store lady made the tangling-up seem like such a nightmare, I'm afraid to try to pull it out. Waaah. Life is hard.
Hey! This seems like the perfect time for some fresh-squeezed, life-lemons lemonade! Anyone need a tiny, tiny square of fuschia-ish fuzz? It's quite soft.
How are your teeth? Hurting? Yeah. I thought they might be. Here, let me help you out with that. You don't want to go through your whole day with painful teeth.
Aaaaaaargh! My eyes! Your eyes! Ooof! It's a trade-off, the teeth for the eyes. Not sure which is worse. But, man that is unpleasant to look at.Allow me to explain/defend/ask for your support and pity.
First of all, the yarn is not that bright in real life. Really. I'd tell you if it was. It's a perfectly reasonable shade of... that color.
Second, my local yarn store does not carry angora. They may physically push you over if you've got a good yarn combination in your hands, but they draw the line at selling you yarn made of bunny. Aren't gonna do it. They will sell you this incredibly soft and fuzzy synthetic yarn as a substitute. Perfectly ok by me. I've got no stake in knitting with angora. Fine.
Nice lady working at the yarn store: You will have to double this up, but that won't be a problem. Just use both ends of the ball of yarn at the same time, hold the two strands together, and knit them like they were one strand of yarn. Oh, also! While you're knitting, be sure to keep the ball of yarn in a very small Ziploc bag. Very small. Like snack-size. Otherwise you're gonna have a huge, tangled mess on your hands. You don't want that, and I don't want that. You'll hate me.
Me: Ok.
Gratitude for still standing upright at the end of this exchange? Enormous! Giant, flapping red flags being waved right in front of my face? Ignored!
Me (at home, later that afternoon): La la la. Let me get a little Ziploc bag. I'm gonna make some booties! (I look in the cupboard. Gallon-sized only. Too big.) Huh! Well. I'm not going to leave the house in this situation, because that would be excessive. What can I use instead? What oh what? Hey! My PIC gave me these cute zip-top nylon bags. One of them is quite small. That should do just fine!
It was a tight squeeze, but the lady did say "very small". There was a little concern at this point that the yarn might get caught in the zipper while I was knitting, but the concern was overshadowed by how cute those booties were gonna be. Cute!
So, you know what? The yarn getting caught in that zipper was so the least of my problems. I wish that had been my biggest problem.
For this pattern, it's pretty imperative that you be able to see your stitches on the needle as you're knitting. You know, like this is a stitch. Let me put my needle in there. Not, is that a stitch or is that just fuzz? Or, is that both strands of yarn or just one? Or is it just fuzz?!
I won't curse at this time. I'll allow you to imagine the most colorful string of expletives you can, and then insert them here. Because right here is where those go. I can tell you that very clearly. I am quite sure this space right here is not fuzz, so you can put your curse words here with confidence.
{sigh}
So, this is pretty much a disaster for the reasons I've alluded to. I now have the wrong number of stitches on my needle, and there's this crazy thing you have to do in the pattern where you can't just cheat. I would rip the whole thing out and start over -- maybe not doubling the yarn -- but the store lady made the tangling-up seem like such a nightmare, I'm afraid to try to pull it out. Waaah. Life is hard.
Hey! This seems like the perfect time for some fresh-squeezed, life-lemons lemonade! Anyone need a tiny, tiny square of fuschia-ish fuzz? It's quite soft.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
A sign that I've had time to watch TV
Behold! My Chevron Scarf has doubled in size! That is due in no small part to the Battlestar Galactica mini-marathon my sidekick and I had the other night. (I can't sit and just watch that show. Really. I'd feel twelve kinds of bad if I just sat and watched.)
This progress makes the scarf all of 4 inches long. So that's real good.
Also? I was poking around on people's blogrolls (now that sounds dirty), and on yes, I MADE that there was this link to Kuler. I haven't looked too closely yet, but Kuler appears to be a site that is all about color combinations -- tasty, fantastic, pull-my-eyes-out good color combinations. Go look! It's so soothing!! (How often do I use multiple exclamation points? Rarely. So you know I mean it.) Totally useful for every kind of craft there is, including home decoration or arranging food on a plate in a pleasing way (so that second one is a stretch. And?). Go check it out.
Someday I'll be able to do all that crafting I was doing before. Remember that? When I made all kinds of stuff? That was fun. More of that, please. Oh no? I have to figure out where to put all those articles? Hm. Well. I'll just think of that as crafting. Mind-burning, soul-twisting, weird-memories-eliciting crafting. That should make it fantastic.
Maybe I'll start a blog about that. I'll use all of Leopold's ideas from yesterday's comments and will post every day about how I used my articles as kitchen tiles and mattress filling. You'd read that, right?
No?
Grrr.
(shaking my fists at the heavens) Aaaarticleeees!
Sunday, April 08, 2007
How do you solve a problem like this paper?
There are lots of good things about having gone to school for twelve hundred and three years. Really. Lots.Those things aren't coming to mind at the moment, because all I can think about right now is the debris that's been left behind. Seven years of graduate school makes for quite the mess -- binders, books, flashcards, articles... Oh, the articles.
While I was writing my dissertation, my wasband and I started referring to articles as my arch-nemesis Articles (pronounced ar'-ti-clees). And let me tell you something, I have got so many binders full of Articles, it's ridiculous.
As we sit here, those binders are occupying a large parcel of real estate in my home -- precious space that could be inhabited by yarn or fabric or other crafty items. How dare Articles continue to monopolize my life, lo these many years later!
I am going to gain the upper hand with my arch-nemesis once and for all. You'll see.
One small problem, though: It would seem like throwing perfectly good money away if I just got rid of them. Even if I recycled the paper, I would feel terrible about tossing thousands of dollars' worth of resources right out the proverbial window.
You know we have the internet now. You can just look stuff up if you needed to.
Sure. Yes. Ok. Maybe. But that's hardly the same. Does the internet have my very own highlighting and notes in the margins? Don't think so. Are the syllabi from courses I've taken on the internet? No. No, they're not. How about all my carefully-taken notes from classes? Not gonna be able to Google those.
Why would you need any of those things?
You never know. I might just... I don't know!
I'm thinking of scanning some of the more important articles, burning those to a CD, and recycling the rest. How does that sound? Space-saving at a minimum. Time-consuming at a maximum. But, I can't think of a better solution.
What have other people done with all their old school stuff? Do people mostly just chuck it?
I'll tell you what I will not do: get a storage unit. If Articles wants his own place, he can pay for it himself. I am not paying rent for Articles. That dude has cost me enough already.
Seriously. Any and all ideas (except for the aforementioned storage unit) are welcome. You'd think that with all that schooling I could figure this out. But you know what? It's always better to collaborate.
With the power of the internet and the pressure from my crafting supplies, together we will overthrow Articles once and for all! Who's with me? Huzzah!!
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Do not count me out, fellow knitters
The Chevron Scarf is officially underway.
Yes. I have said this before. But this time, I mean it. Want proof?
Ha HA! I have knit a few rows. That makes it official.
This terrible photo clearly shows how beautifully the two yarns alternate. You've got your green rows then your multi-colored rows. Delicious! I think it should be good. I also think it should be finished right in time for the red-hot summer. Because my timing is nothing if not horrible.
But you know what? If women can walk around in high heels, destroying their feet and backs for the sake of beauty, I can certainly wear a woolen scarf in the height of summer, no? Oh, right. I would look insane if I did that. Look at that woman! What is she doing to her neck? Why in the world would she be wearing a wool scarf this time of year? So she can show off her knitting? How ridiculous! And insane!
Oh! But maybe if I wear my high heels while wearing the scarf, people will understand. They'll be so taken by my stunning shoes, they will see that I am not insane, I am just fashionable. And then they, too, will want to wear a woolen scarf in the middle of the red-hot summer.
Genius, me!
Yes. I have said this before. But this time, I mean it. Want proof?
Ha HA! I have knit a few rows. That makes it official.
This terrible photo clearly shows how beautifully the two yarns alternate. You've got your green rows then your multi-colored rows. Delicious! I think it should be good. I also think it should be finished right in time for the red-hot summer. Because my timing is nothing if not horrible.But you know what? If women can walk around in high heels, destroying their feet and backs for the sake of beauty, I can certainly wear a woolen scarf in the height of summer, no? Oh, right. I would look insane if I did that. Look at that woman! What is she doing to her neck? Why in the world would she be wearing a wool scarf this time of year? So she can show off her knitting? How ridiculous! And insane!
Oh! But maybe if I wear my high heels while wearing the scarf, people will understand. They'll be so taken by my stunning shoes, they will see that I am not insane, I am just fashionable. And then they, too, will want to wear a woolen scarf in the middle of the red-hot summer.
Genius, me!
Friday, April 06, 2007
Have a little time to kill?
Dude. Quizzes. Right?
Here's what I'd say about the online quiz, in general. In the "pro" column we've got their time-killing and sometimes ego-boosting properties. In the "con" column we've got the fact that they are eye-burningly hideous to look at, generally cheesy, and usually made for either the twelve year-old or the perv.
I don't want to oversell them, but with their lovely design and quite pleasing content, Modesty Panel quizzes are awesome.
I took two of them just now. So you know, I am better at telling the difference between food and poo than I am at knowing the difference between Art and Crap. All things considered, I think that's probably for the best.
(Be forewarned: If you take the Snack or Scat quiz [and don't think I don't know that's the first one you'll take, PIC], be prepared for some pretty hideous photos when you get your results.)
Click here to go take yourself some quick quizzes, and then come back and tell me how you did.
Also? Crafting-related posts will resume a-sap, once I go through my house and make sure I've tossed out all the Crap instead of the Art.
(via How About Orange)
Here's what I'd say about the online quiz, in general. In the "pro" column we've got their time-killing and sometimes ego-boosting properties. In the "con" column we've got the fact that they are eye-burningly hideous to look at, generally cheesy, and usually made for either the twelve year-old or the perv.
I don't want to oversell them, but with their lovely design and quite pleasing content, Modesty Panel quizzes are awesome.
I took two of them just now. So you know, I am better at telling the difference between food and poo than I am at knowing the difference between Art and Crap. All things considered, I think that's probably for the best.
(Be forewarned: If you take the Snack or Scat quiz [and don't think I don't know that's the first one you'll take, PIC], be prepared for some pretty hideous photos when you get your results.)
Click here to go take yourself some quick quizzes, and then come back and tell me how you did.
Also? Crafting-related posts will resume a-sap, once I go through my house and make sure I've tossed out all the Crap instead of the Art.
(via How About Orange)
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Overheard at Crate and Barrel
My sidekick and I were strolling through our local Crate and Barrel, and we passed by as a woman was stroking the top of a coffee table.
Woman to cheery salesdude: What is this top made of? Is this faux marble?
Cheery salesdude: No, ma'am. That is travertine tile.
Woman: Oh! (She looked more closely.)
Cheery salesdude: Yep! Nothing here is fake. They sell that at Pottery Barn.
Sidekick and I (simultaneously, over our shoulders, and out loud): Oh, snap!
We all had a nice laugh after that. It was funny mostly because the salesdude was openly and chipper-ly slamming Pottery Barn. But I think some of the laughter could have been at us and our use of the now-outdated expletive "snap". The kids are long done with "snap" and are no doubt up to much more interesting and dynamic ways to underscore someone else's humiliation. We just don't know what those ways are yet. So, who are we to think we can say "snap", and say it with feeling, without looking like complete dorks?
The answer should be obvious. And that's Doctor Complete Dork to you.
Woman to cheery salesdude: What is this top made of? Is this faux marble?
Cheery salesdude: No, ma'am. That is travertine tile.
Woman: Oh! (She looked more closely.)
Cheery salesdude: Yep! Nothing here is fake. They sell that at Pottery Barn.
Sidekick and I (simultaneously, over our shoulders, and out loud): Oh, snap!
We all had a nice laugh after that. It was funny mostly because the salesdude was openly and chipper-ly slamming Pottery Barn. But I think some of the laughter could have been at us and our use of the now-outdated expletive "snap". The kids are long done with "snap" and are no doubt up to much more interesting and dynamic ways to underscore someone else's humiliation. We just don't know what those ways are yet. So, who are we to think we can say "snap", and say it with feeling, without looking like complete dorks?
The answer should be obvious. And that's Doctor Complete Dork to you.
Monday, April 02, 2007
Did I ever show you this scarf?
This was one of the first scarves I ever knitted. Back in '04.Life was easier back then.
Ah, back in '04 I'd go to the store, and some yarn would catch my eye. (This will be the opening line of my book of poetry: Ernest Tender presents Sweaters and Yanni. The poem will be called Mittens. Look for it at a bookseller near you.)
Anyhoo, back to the yarn. Here's what I'd think back then: Nubblets of color. Just a touch of the shiny. Little furry parts? I'm intrigued.
And that's all it took. I was so amazed they could cram all that mess into one yarn, I'd buy it. I'd sit and knit with that yarn, and next thing you know I'd have a scarf.
No longer sufficient! I can't just go to the store and pick out a hodgepodge of a yarn and make a scarf. Don't be ridiculous! This is what happens in my mind at the yarn store now:
I would never like or wear something made of this.
And that's the end of that.
And yet, I wear the shiny, furry, nubbletty scarf a lot. It is not comfy, cozy, or particularly pretty. But it goes with just about every damn thing I own. It just does.
I long for simpler days, people. I really do.
Maybe I will turn April around with a new rule: new yarn must have at least 5 mix-ins. Toffee, chocolate chips, marshmallow fluff, Heath bar, and fudge. Yes. That's it. That is exactly the next yarn I am going to buy. And then I am going to make the most delicious scarf you ever saw. And you will want to eat it, and you will ask me if you can have a bite, and I will say, "No. You most certainly may not." And since it will go with everything I own, I shall wear it every day.
Simpler days, here I come!
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Overheard at the fancy supermarket
Small woman, mid-20s, pushes past me line to meet up with the dude she's with. She's holding a giant bottle of some beverage with a drawing of some pears on it.
Small woman: Oh my GOD! I had this in Europe, and it's AMAZING!
Dude: Really?
SW: It's AMAZING! It's completely amazing. I had it in Europe. And it's SO amazing.
Dude: Huh.
SW: I wonder where it's from. It is SO good.
She looks closely at the bottle, reading.
SW: I would think it's made in Europe. It's so incredible. (She keeps reading. She stops cold.) Florida?!
Dude: Huh.
SW: It's made in Florida?! (Panic time.)
Dude: Wow.
SW: Oh, no. (Sigh of relief washes over her.) It's just distributed by Florida.
Once she said it was distributed by Florida, I was out. That was all I needed.
I may've gone to the fancy supermarket for the eclairs and the deal on Vitamin water, but I most certainly left with more than that. I left knowing that there's a pear drink out there that is European-ly delicious. And that that very drink is distributed by Florida. And that that woman -- the one who pushed past me with glee and pride -- will be able to sleep tonight, knowing that the amazing drink she had in Europe was not made in Florida.
Everything's gonna be all right, everybody.
Small woman: Oh my GOD! I had this in Europe, and it's AMAZING!
Dude: Really?
SW: It's AMAZING! It's completely amazing. I had it in Europe. And it's SO amazing.
Dude: Huh.
SW: I wonder where it's from. It is SO good.
She looks closely at the bottle, reading.
SW: I would think it's made in Europe. It's so incredible. (She keeps reading. She stops cold.) Florida?!
Dude: Huh.
SW: It's made in Florida?! (Panic time.)
Dude: Wow.
SW: Oh, no. (Sigh of relief washes over her.) It's just distributed by Florida.
Once she said it was distributed by Florida, I was out. That was all I needed.
I may've gone to the fancy supermarket for the eclairs and the deal on Vitamin water, but I most certainly left with more than that. I left knowing that there's a pear drink out there that is European-ly delicious. And that that very drink is distributed by Florida. And that that woman -- the one who pushed past me with glee and pride -- will be able to sleep tonight, knowing that the amazing drink she had in Europe was not made in Florida.
Everything's gonna be all right, everybody.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
I wish I'd made this
Don't you think it would be cool if I'd made this? Or if someone I knew had made this? Yeah. Me too.But no. This is part of a giant pillow we recently bought from a store, for a couch we recently bought from that same store, for a life we recently decided we wanted to have. This life we decided on includes a couch that is glorious and new. And soft.
We are also looking for some handmade pillows, and so far have looked here and here. We're liking the ones we've seen, but are there any places you've seen that you like with lovely little accent pillows for a couch or chair?
You know I'm tempted to just make some myself, right? (I could totally embroider a bird on a pillow!) At this time, I am resisting that temptation, thank you very much.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
But or chunky
This might get addictive. The title of this post is the subject of another piece of spam I got.
I couldn't decide whether to feature it or "I concordville this colo". They're both really good.
Ok. But seriously.
I mean, but or chunky seriously! Ha HA!
Moo cards? They're killing me. I will easily spend twelve thousand hours making some of these. (Thanks, BDK.) Great gift item. Great gift tag. Great thing to spend half your life making.
If only the Moo cards weren't on the list of lists of fun things to do, because that list is taking a back seat at this time to other lists of lists -- ones wherein I drive all over creation, make more phone calls than anyone should, and try not to explode from crabbiness.
Good thing I concordville this colo. One can always take comfort in that.
I couldn't decide whether to feature it or "I concordville this colo". They're both really good.
Ok. But seriously.
I mean, but or chunky seriously! Ha HA!
Moo cards? They're killing me. I will easily spend twelve thousand hours making some of these. (Thanks, BDK.) Great gift item. Great gift tag. Great thing to spend half your life making.
If only the Moo cards weren't on the list of lists of fun things to do, because that list is taking a back seat at this time to other lists of lists -- ones wherein I drive all over creation, make more phone calls than anyone should, and try not to explode from crabbiness.
Good thing I concordville this colo. One can always take comfort in that.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
A batesfull as hibbing
Just thought I'd share the title of some spam I got today.
Feel free to posit what any of those words might mean. I'm good with "A'" and "as", I think. It's the others that I'm just not sure of.
How about this?
"Batesfull" = A way to describe how deeply you love your mother. (e.g., I love her a batesfull.)
"Hibbing" = hives that have formed in ribbed-like stripes. (e.g., Check out this hibbing on my arm!)
Unfortunately, those definitions do not make the phrase hang together. But that's the best I could do.
Other ideas?
Feel free to posit what any of those words might mean. I'm good with "A'" and "as", I think. It's the others that I'm just not sure of.
How about this?
"Batesfull" = A way to describe how deeply you love your mother. (e.g., I love her a batesfull.)
"Hibbing" = hives that have formed in ribbed-like stripes. (e.g., Check out this hibbing on my arm!)
Unfortunately, those definitions do not make the phrase hang together. But that's the best I could do.
Other ideas?
Monday, March 26, 2007
What's with the hectic?
Behind on blog reading is like being behind on hanging out with friends. Only blogs have archives. So that's good. In the most wistful tone I've got I say to you: Someday I'll be able to read blogs again.
(I have now collapsed on my fainting couch with the back of my hand to my forehead. The vapors! The hysteria! My smelling salts!)
It is so hectic in my life right now. It is my-lists-have-lists hectic. So we're gonna just push on ahead. I know there will be soft, pretty things waiting for me on the other side.
Meanwhile, check out the avalanche of fabrics my mom sent me last week!
This was the other great pressie I mentioned. How great is that?! She was on a business trip and there happened to be a quilting store right near her hotel. So she got me some fabrics! Because that's how she conducts the business of being a mom. By being thoughtful and generous.
While I do not know what I will make with this giant panel of monkeys jumping on a bed, I do know it will be a celebration of their long tails. Because monkey tails are hilarious.
Hey! Maybe I can get some monkeys to do things on my lists. Yeah! No, that's ridiculous. It's tax season. What am I thinking? There won't be a monkey alive who isn't crunching numbers and filing forms. Bad timing, me!
(I have now collapsed on my fainting couch with the back of my hand to my forehead. The vapors! The hysteria! My smelling salts!)
It is so hectic in my life right now. It is my-lists-have-lists hectic. So we're gonna just push on ahead. I know there will be soft, pretty things waiting for me on the other side.
Meanwhile, check out the avalanche of fabrics my mom sent me last week!
This was the other great pressie I mentioned. How great is that?! She was on a business trip and there happened to be a quilting store right near her hotel. So she got me some fabrics! Because that's how she conducts the business of being a mom. By being thoughtful and generous.
While I do not know what I will make with this giant panel of monkeys jumping on a bed, I do know it will be a celebration of their long tails. Because monkey tails are hilarious.Hey! Maybe I can get some monkeys to do things on my lists. Yeah! No, that's ridiculous. It's tax season. What am I thinking? There won't be a monkey alive who isn't crunching numbers and filing forms. Bad timing, me!
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Vote for Softies!
Looking for something quick, fun, and inspiring?
Go vote for The Softie Awards. (Scroll down to the March 22, 2007 entry to get started.)
People are so amazingly talented. You will not be disappointed. (I have a feeling my SIL and Leopold will be particularly interested.)
I don't want to sway any votes. But if you go over there, come back and tell me your favorites, maybe I'll tell you which ones I particularly fancy. They are SO good!
(via not Martha)
Go vote for The Softie Awards. (Scroll down to the March 22, 2007 entry to get started.)
People are so amazingly talented. You will not be disappointed. (I have a feeling my SIL and Leopold will be particularly interested.)
I don't want to sway any votes. But if you go over there, come back and tell me your favorites, maybe I'll tell you which ones I particularly fancy. They are SO good!
(via not Martha)
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Just because I'm fickle doesn't mean I don't love you.
Dear Socks That Rock Yarn,
You are awesome. Let's just start there. Really, really awesome. You're vibrant and robust. You're wonderful to look at. You're a great set of balls. Really. Just look at you.
But after a few tries with you and the Chevron Scarf, I just couldn't make it work. Let's be clear. I do love you. That should not be in question. Just because you're not the right yarn for this scarf, doesn't mean you won't be right for something else. Don't take it personally. Seriously, don't.
You and I are not the only ones to have to rethink a relationship. I'm sure you've seen hundreds of blog posts wherein fickle and guilt-ridden knitbloggers apologize profusely for misleading their well-intentioned and talented yarn. Right?
Look, you are a yarn of noble character, and you're entitled to an explanation. Here's what happened. Yesterday, I accompanied my PIC to the yarn store with the stated purpose of finding yarns for her Chevron Scarf. (We're gonna make these scarves together like we did with the Clapper Project of '05.) Innocent enough.
My PIC was sitting on the floor in front of the cubby with the Colinette Jitterbug yarns, and I was squatting next to her. We held two yarns up together that we were considering, and we thought the combination looked good. As we were looking at them, a woman who works at the store came over, saw the combo, and pushed me she liked it so much.
You know how I'm always saying I want to shove someone and say "Get out!" when something is really great? Like Elaine on Seinfeld. When I imagine doing that, though, I always imagine the other person standing. Not squatting.
Yeah, well, this woman literally bent over and pushed me on my knee so I ended up on my ass she liked the yarns so much. Dudes, she pushed me, and I tumped over. In the middle of the store. Because the lady liked the yarn combination.
It's not a sales approach I'm familiar with, and I don't know what the liability ramifications of this kind of tactic might be, but I think it was effective. I think I got what she was going for.
These do look good together. I think you would agree that I would wear a scarf in these colors. I think.
I could be wrong. I'm willing to be wrong. These might knit up together and be terrible, drab crap. Certainly possible. But I have to give it a try. I have to. Because, seriously? I am not going to get knocked on my ass for nothing.
I trust you'll understand. (You are socks that rock, after all.)
With lots of love,
Dr. B.
You are awesome. Let's just start there. Really, really awesome. You're vibrant and robust. You're wonderful to look at. You're a great set of balls. Really. Just look at you.
But after a few tries with you and the Chevron Scarf, I just couldn't make it work. Let's be clear. I do love you. That should not be in question. Just because you're not the right yarn for this scarf, doesn't mean you won't be right for something else. Don't take it personally. Seriously, don't.You and I are not the only ones to have to rethink a relationship. I'm sure you've seen hundreds of blog posts wherein fickle and guilt-ridden knitbloggers apologize profusely for misleading their well-intentioned and talented yarn. Right?
Look, you are a yarn of noble character, and you're entitled to an explanation. Here's what happened. Yesterday, I accompanied my PIC to the yarn store with the stated purpose of finding yarns for her Chevron Scarf. (We're gonna make these scarves together like we did with the Clapper Project of '05.) Innocent enough.
My PIC was sitting on the floor in front of the cubby with the Colinette Jitterbug yarns, and I was squatting next to her. We held two yarns up together that we were considering, and we thought the combination looked good. As we were looking at them, a woman who works at the store came over, saw the combo, and pushed me she liked it so much.
You know how I'm always saying I want to shove someone and say "Get out!" when something is really great? Like Elaine on Seinfeld. When I imagine doing that, though, I always imagine the other person standing. Not squatting.
Yeah, well, this woman literally bent over and pushed me on my knee so I ended up on my ass she liked the yarns so much. Dudes, she pushed me, and I tumped over. In the middle of the store. Because the lady liked the yarn combination.
It's not a sales approach I'm familiar with, and I don't know what the liability ramifications of this kind of tactic might be, but I think it was effective. I think I got what she was going for.
These do look good together. I think you would agree that I would wear a scarf in these colors. I think.I could be wrong. I'm willing to be wrong. These might knit up together and be terrible, drab crap. Certainly possible. But I have to give it a try. I have to. Because, seriously? I am not going to get knocked on my ass for nothing.
I trust you'll understand. (You are socks that rock, after all.)
With lots of love,
Dr. B.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
In awe of generosity
Nothing lifts the spirits quite like pressies. And gloriously wonderful pressies? All the better.
I got to work on Monday, and a lovely little box from Australia was waiting for me. When I opened it, I saw this:
Gorgeous cardstock and ribbon and art -- all just the wrapping for a handmade gift from Nora.
It's worth restating that I only know Nora from this here webberblog. And that a gift from her on the occasion of "Just Because" is truly something spectacular.
So, I stared at this stunning wrapping, and I was torn. Should I open it and then try to re-assemble it to take pictures for the blog? Or should I wait until I could take photos to open it? If I waited, it could be days before the conditions were right to take a picture. If I didn't, I would surely spoil the beauty of the presentation for posting here.
I tried to peek inside to see if I could spy the inner goods and make a decision that way. No luck. I couldn't see a thing. Hmm.
And I realized another way the blog impacts my life: There are situations like this where I can't open the presents from the lovely people I know because of the blog, because of the blog! Crap.
I put the whole thing away, despite my burning curiosity. And, wouldn't you know, yesterday was totally grey and not suitable for taking photos.
So, I tell you what. When the sun came out this morning, this gift was the first thing I thought of.
Behold the amazing handmade stitch markers:
Aren't they beautiful?
And there are so many of them!
I can't believe Nora sat there patiently bending wire and stringing beads and making these beautiful creations, and now they're mine! It really made my day. And I can't wait to use them! (Believe me, they'll be out on display as lovely things to look at in the meantime.)
Thank you so much, Nora! Your kindness and thoughtfulness are a beautiful part of the world wide web. People like you and Kristy are inspirations.
Being kind and generous out of the blue is so cool. It's totally the new black.
I got to work on Monday, and a lovely little box from Australia was waiting for me. When I opened it, I saw this:
Gorgeous cardstock and ribbon and art -- all just the wrapping for a handmade gift from Nora.It's worth restating that I only know Nora from this here webberblog. And that a gift from her on the occasion of "Just Because" is truly something spectacular.
So, I stared at this stunning wrapping, and I was torn. Should I open it and then try to re-assemble it to take pictures for the blog? Or should I wait until I could take photos to open it? If I waited, it could be days before the conditions were right to take a picture. If I didn't, I would surely spoil the beauty of the presentation for posting here.
I tried to peek inside to see if I could spy the inner goods and make a decision that way. No luck. I couldn't see a thing. Hmm.
And I realized another way the blog impacts my life: There are situations like this where I can't open the presents from the lovely people I know because of the blog, because of the blog! Crap.
I put the whole thing away, despite my burning curiosity. And, wouldn't you know, yesterday was totally grey and not suitable for taking photos.
So, I tell you what. When the sun came out this morning, this gift was the first thing I thought of.
Behold the amazing handmade stitch markers:
Aren't they beautiful?
And there are so many of them!
I can't believe Nora sat there patiently bending wire and stringing beads and making these beautiful creations, and now they're mine! It really made my day. And I can't wait to use them! (Believe me, they'll be out on display as lovely things to look at in the meantime.)Thank you so much, Nora! Your kindness and thoughtfulness are a beautiful part of the world wide web. People like you and Kristy are inspirations.
Being kind and generous out of the blue is so cool. It's totally the new black.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
It's starting to look up
Signs that this March march-ness may be turning around:
(1) I've received two packages filled with delightful surprises in as many days.
(2) I started the Chevron Scarf.
(3) Rather than be all, "I didn't get anything done over the weekend," I am able to call knitting two small rows "starting the Chevron Scarf".
(4) I am posting despite not having pictures to include. (It's very overcast here today. Terrible light for taking photos of the delicious surprises.)
(5) Rather than slicing my right thumb on my eggs this morning, I instead sliced my left thumb on the zipper of a compartment of my purse yesterday. Jealous?
Like I said, things may be looking up. I'll tell you more about the surprises when the sun comes out.
How are things looking where you are?
(1) I've received two packages filled with delightful surprises in as many days.
(2) I started the Chevron Scarf.
(3) Rather than be all, "I didn't get anything done over the weekend," I am able to call knitting two small rows "starting the Chevron Scarf".
(4) I am posting despite not having pictures to include. (It's very overcast here today. Terrible light for taking photos of the delicious surprises.)
(5) Rather than slicing my right thumb on my eggs this morning, I instead sliced my left thumb on the zipper of a compartment of my purse yesterday. Jealous?
Like I said, things may be looking up. I'll tell you more about the surprises when the sun comes out.
How are things looking where you are?
Friday, March 16, 2007
Hey, alligator! I'll see you. (Later.)
I finally managed to buy Last Minute Knitted Gifts, and I have every intention of starting that blasted Chevron Scarf this weekend. Or the Dashing mitts.
Or, I suppose I could finish any one of the twelve million socks that I've started. But you know what? No. That's not what I'm gonna do.
I am going to start some new projects. I think new projects are just the thing to show March who's boss. Who is boss, you ask? Well, thanks for asking. That would be me. I am boss. So suck it, March.
Sidekick and I are off to a conference this weekend. We'll be back on Sunday. Hopefully, I'll have something to show for it.
Have a good one!
Or, I suppose I could finish any one of the twelve million socks that I've started. But you know what? No. That's not what I'm gonna do.
I am going to start some new projects. I think new projects are just the thing to show March who's boss. Who is boss, you ask? Well, thanks for asking. That would be me. I am boss. So suck it, March.
Sidekick and I are off to a conference this weekend. We'll be back on Sunday. Hopefully, I'll have something to show for it.
Have a good one!
Thursday, March 15, 2007
What is it about March?
I swear the Earth is spinning faster on its axis. I swear it. Every time I look up at the clock, it's so much later than I think it should be. And my internal clock is usually right on the money. But it has not been in March.
Please do not try to tell me it's just this "Daylight Savings" Time thing, because I'm not buying it. Honestly, I would be more than happy to buy it if it were as simple as: "It feels like it's 5:00, but it's already 6:00!?!" No, no. This is: "We're on Friday already? Seriously? Wasn't it just Friday half a second ago? It should only be Tuesday or some shit. Fuck!"
(Yeah. It's like that around here.)
I see only one way out of this. It's declaration time.
I am hereby officially declaring that:
March is jacked up.
Other people are having similar experiences with time whizzing by, right? I've noticed people seem to be having a hard time keeping up with their blog reading, much less with their blog writing. Does this usually happen this time of year in the blogosphere? Or is there something else up? I'm pretty sure I haven't experienced any head trauma recently, but I'll look down at something, and the next time I look up? Three weeks have gone by.
Seriously. What is up?
My inside voice: Raaah raaah raaah. I'm old. Raaaah raaah raaaah. Life's too short. Raaaah raaah raah. Kids! Yard! Raaaah!
My outside voice: Is it just me? No, right?
I shall try to re-engage in the craftiness and share it with you in words and pictures. Just as soon as I figure out how it got to be the middle of March of two-thousand-SEVEN!
Raaaah!
Please do not try to tell me it's just this "Daylight Savings" Time thing, because I'm not buying it. Honestly, I would be more than happy to buy it if it were as simple as: "It feels like it's 5:00, but it's already 6:00!?!" No, no. This is: "We're on Friday already? Seriously? Wasn't it just Friday half a second ago? It should only be Tuesday or some shit. Fuck!"
(Yeah. It's like that around here.)
I see only one way out of this. It's declaration time.
I am hereby officially declaring that:
March is jacked up.
Other people are having similar experiences with time whizzing by, right? I've noticed people seem to be having a hard time keeping up with their blog reading, much less with their blog writing. Does this usually happen this time of year in the blogosphere? Or is there something else up? I'm pretty sure I haven't experienced any head trauma recently, but I'll look down at something, and the next time I look up? Three weeks have gone by.
Seriously. What is up?
My inside voice: Raaah raaah raaah. I'm old. Raaaah raaah raaaah. Life's too short. Raaaah raaah raah. Kids! Yard! Raaaah!
My outside voice: Is it just me? No, right?
I shall try to re-engage in the craftiness and share it with you in words and pictures. Just as soon as I figure out how it got to be the middle of March of two-thousand-SEVEN!
Raaaah!
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
That eavesdropping from the other night
It's 1:12 AM. I wake up, confused by the sound of a booming male voice outside my window.
BMV: Heeeeeelp! Heeeeeeelp! Call the poleeeece! Call the poleeeece!
Me (whispering to Sidekick): Hey. Should we call the police?
Sidekick (asleep): Huh?
Me: Should we call the police?
Sidekick (still asleep): Why?
Me: Dude is yelling that we should call the police.
At this point I've realized whose voice it is. "Dude" is a man in his late 80s. He lives in our neighborhood. He has dementia and can often be heard during the day yelling at and about his wife, who is also in her 80s. Often his yelling is related to what an idiot she is (which she is not), how he's got to get to work (which he does not) and how she's keeping him from this (She does not let him drive because he does not have a license anymore, and he is not well. So, I guess technically, she is doing this part.). He's always been quite mean to her, but the dementia has made it much worse. It's a mess.
It's late, and I'm not sure exactly what's up, so I listen some more.
Dude: You know I have to get to work! Give me the keys! Give me the keys!
Wife: (says something to him I can't hear)
Dude: Give me the keys! Somebody call the police! I won't stand for this! Somebody call the poleeeece!
Me: Should I call the police?
Sidekick: What?
I call the police. I explain the situation, tell them Dude's name and what I know so far. The police in our neighborhood are so super kick-ass, we're the luckiest people in the world. So nice. So helpful. So right on it.
Within 7 minutes, I hear cops outside talking to Dude.
Cop 1: What's going on there, Dude? (They call him by name.)
Dude: I've got to get to work, and my wife won't give me the keys.
Cop 1: Are you gonna drive to work?
Wife: He can't drive.
Cop 2: Does he have a license?
Wife: No.
Cop 1: You don't have a license, Dude.
Dude: I have to get to work.
Cop 1: But you don't have a license, Dude.
(Repeat last two lines about 13 times.)
Cop 2 proceeds to talk to Dude's wife very kindly and thoughtfully, advising her to call Dude's doctor in the morning and tell them the meds aren't working. Cop 1 keeps up the abbreviated "who's on first" bit with Dude.
I, meanwhile, am out of bed at the window, trying to get a sense of what's going on without being seen. Sidekick is sound asleep. At this point I don't know if I should try to intervene and tell the police that sometimes he's really verbally abusive to her. I don't know if this will just make the situation worse or if it's what needs to happen. It's the middle of the night, the cops seem to be handling it, and Sidekick is snoring and unable to help me decide what to do.
I had a hard time figuring this one out. I finally got back in bed and tossed and turned, and I made a commitment that the next time I hear him yelling at her, I'll call Adult Protective Services.
The next morning, I saw Dude sitting outside his home next to an empty chair. As I walked past, he turned to the empty chair and said to it, "Excuse me, won't you? I need to check on my wife."
I haven't heard him yell at her since. But I'm dreading the day I will have to make that call.
I tell you what. Be nice to people. You never know what gear your brain is gonna get stuck in.
(I promise the next eavesdropping story will have some laughs. This one? Not so much.)
BMV: Heeeeeelp! Heeeeeeelp! Call the poleeeece! Call the poleeeece!
Me (whispering to Sidekick): Hey. Should we call the police?
Sidekick (asleep): Huh?
Me: Should we call the police?
Sidekick (still asleep): Why?
Me: Dude is yelling that we should call the police.
At this point I've realized whose voice it is. "Dude" is a man in his late 80s. He lives in our neighborhood. He has dementia and can often be heard during the day yelling at and about his wife, who is also in her 80s. Often his yelling is related to what an idiot she is (which she is not), how he's got to get to work (which he does not) and how she's keeping him from this (She does not let him drive because he does not have a license anymore, and he is not well. So, I guess technically, she is doing this part.). He's always been quite mean to her, but the dementia has made it much worse. It's a mess.
It's late, and I'm not sure exactly what's up, so I listen some more.
Dude: You know I have to get to work! Give me the keys! Give me the keys!
Wife: (says something to him I can't hear)
Dude: Give me the keys! Somebody call the police! I won't stand for this! Somebody call the poleeeece!
Me: Should I call the police?
Sidekick: What?
I call the police. I explain the situation, tell them Dude's name and what I know so far. The police in our neighborhood are so super kick-ass, we're the luckiest people in the world. So nice. So helpful. So right on it.
Within 7 minutes, I hear cops outside talking to Dude.
Cop 1: What's going on there, Dude? (They call him by name.)
Dude: I've got to get to work, and my wife won't give me the keys.
Cop 1: Are you gonna drive to work?
Wife: He can't drive.
Cop 2: Does he have a license?
Wife: No.
Cop 1: You don't have a license, Dude.
Dude: I have to get to work.
Cop 1: But you don't have a license, Dude.
(Repeat last two lines about 13 times.)
Cop 2 proceeds to talk to Dude's wife very kindly and thoughtfully, advising her to call Dude's doctor in the morning and tell them the meds aren't working. Cop 1 keeps up the abbreviated "who's on first" bit with Dude.
I, meanwhile, am out of bed at the window, trying to get a sense of what's going on without being seen. Sidekick is sound asleep. At this point I don't know if I should try to intervene and tell the police that sometimes he's really verbally abusive to her. I don't know if this will just make the situation worse or if it's what needs to happen. It's the middle of the night, the cops seem to be handling it, and Sidekick is snoring and unable to help me decide what to do.
I had a hard time figuring this one out. I finally got back in bed and tossed and turned, and I made a commitment that the next time I hear him yelling at her, I'll call Adult Protective Services.
The next morning, I saw Dude sitting outside his home next to an empty chair. As I walked past, he turned to the empty chair and said to it, "Excuse me, won't you? I need to check on my wife."
I haven't heard him yell at her since. But I'm dreading the day I will have to make that call.
I tell you what. Be nice to people. You never know what gear your brain is gonna get stuck in.
(I promise the next eavesdropping story will have some laughs. This one? Not so much.)
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Next up
I wanna make these Dashing mitts from the new issue of Knitty. They're the longer, better, no-frills version of Fetching:
Oh! When I went to get yarn for the new mitts, Yeardley Smith was at the knitting store. You'd never know by looking at her that she could buy and sell all of us in the blink of an eye. She seemed perfectly nice. I was so busy being calm and unflapped at seeing her that I forgot to buy the needles I needed for said mitts. So calm, me.
Also, sorry it's been so long since I last posted. I'm not quite sure what happened there. I was probably loving too much, or foolishly thinking he was into me, or messing up the rules. Oh, wait. No. That's not right. Those are the things self-help books want me to think I'm doing. Instead, I think I was actually out in the world, working.
So sorry to have neglected you.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
The socks
Sock Tube # 1: Yeah, hi. Listen. I was just noticing that you're about to be finished there, and --
Dark Grey Sock: Uhm. And you are...?
ST: It's me! Me! Remember me? We were pals back in the day.
DGS: Oh! It's you.
ST: Yeah! Me!!
DGS: Yeah! Right! You were a tool.
ST: Yes. There's that.
DGS: Yes.
ST: I wasn't very kind.
DGS: No. You were not kind at all.
ST: Ok. Well, see. Let me explain. I --
DGS: Not interested.
ST: I had a lot going on back then. Things were hard for me. I'd had all those rows that got ripped back.DGS: No excuse.
ST: Yes. Yes! I know that. That's why I've come back around. I read your letter, and I wanted to tell you I'm sorry.
DGS: Really.
ST: Really! I'm sorry for looking down on you and calling you a stubbit. I'm sorry you doubted yourself because of me. I'm sorry you called into question your very sock-ness because I took off.
DGS: Uh huh.
ST: Look, how about we pose together for a photo? You know, for old times' sake. I'll put it up on my fridge to remind me to be a good friend to you.
DGS: Ehn. I don't know.
ST: Look. I know you have no reason to believe me. But, I have changed.
DGS: Changed?
ST: I've spent a lot of time alone, in the bottom of a bag, not seeing the light of day. I've had time to think.
DGS: Uh huh.
ST: Don't you think a sock can change?
DGS: Of course I do. People change socks all the time.
ST: Right! Ha HA! You're hilarious! I'd forgotten how hilarious you are!
DGS: Don't.
ST: Right.
DGS: I suppose I'd consider it.
ST: You would?
DGS: But I still need a kitchener stitch to close up my toe, and my ends need to be woven in. I can't take a picture with my tail all hanging out.
ST: My tail's hanging out, too!
DGS: I don't know.
ST: I'm know I'm not perfect, but I promise I'll try to be a better pal.
DGS: Well...
ST: How about just until you get your mate? Then we can go our separate ways, having had a few laughs.
DGS: It is very kind of you to come all the way back around to apologize. And my mate will probably be a while.
DGS: You did not just reach out and poke me in the side.ST: So sorry! One more -- with a shot of your heel!
ST: Awesome!DGS: Thanks for your apology. It takes a really big sock to come back and apologize.
ST: Yeah. We all do and say things we regret. But we don't always say we're sorry. I am sorry.
DGS: Awwww.
ST & DGS: SOCKS!!
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
How the week went from Whee! to Meh. and back to Whee! again
Sunday: Order Yarntini yarn. Eat chicken tacos.
Monday: Blog about Sunday's spectacular events. Work all day and half the night.
Tuesday: Do some teaching and some working. No blogging. Spend much of the middle of the night eavesdropping. Debate whether or not to get involved in the goings-on until 2:30 AM.
Wednesday: Sleep in with a wicked hangover from the eavesdropping-debating cocktail. Stumble to the mailbox. Upon opening mail, hear a chorus of angels and take a bath in light from above. {Aaaaaaaaaaahh!}
Check out the Yarntini yarn I ordered like two and half seconds ago! It was wrapped all cute, like so:
And then, it was not just yarn. No. That would be outrageous if all I got was the yarn I ordered. What kind of business would that be, if they sent you only what you'd ordered?
Lip balm, people! Strawberry daiquiri flavor! And a handwritten note. And that tissue paper color? Forget about it. (I realize my gratitude is over-reaching. But I really do like that tissue paper.)
The plan for the rest of Wednesday: Stare at yarn. Touch yarn. Read comments wherein people tell me what I should make with the 490 yards of this delicious, fingering weight yarn.
(Does "fingering weight" sound creepy to anyone else, or just to me?)
Seriously, what should I make?!
Monday: Blog about Sunday's spectacular events. Work all day and half the night.
Tuesday: Do some teaching and some working. No blogging. Spend much of the middle of the night eavesdropping. Debate whether or not to get involved in the goings-on until 2:30 AM.
Wednesday: Sleep in with a wicked hangover from the eavesdropping-debating cocktail. Stumble to the mailbox. Upon opening mail, hear a chorus of angels and take a bath in light from above. {Aaaaaaaaaaahh!}
Check out the Yarntini yarn I ordered like two and half seconds ago! It was wrapped all cute, like so:
And then, it was not just yarn. No. That would be outrageous if all I got was the yarn I ordered. What kind of business would that be, if they sent you only what you'd ordered?
Lip balm, people! Strawberry daiquiri flavor! And a handwritten note. And that tissue paper color? Forget about it. (I realize my gratitude is over-reaching. But I really do like that tissue paper.)
The plan for the rest of Wednesday: Stare at yarn. Touch yarn. Read comments wherein people tell me what I should make with the 490 yards of this delicious, fingering weight yarn.(Does "fingering weight" sound creepy to anyone else, or just to me?)
Seriously, what should I make?!
Monday, March 05, 2007
Yarntini frenzy
It's so boring to hear me say over and over again, "Isn't the world wide web so amazing?" I kind of know this and yet... seriously. Isn't it?
Yesterday afternoon, my sidekick came home with some delicious chicken tacos for dinner. When he walked in the front door, I was sitting at my laptop, hitting the refresh button every 5 seconds.
Sidekick: Hey! Delicious chicken tacos!
Me: (not taking my eyes off the screen) That's so great!
Sidekick: Come on and eat 'em!
Me: Just a second.
Sidekick: What are you doing?
Me: Nothing. (refresh)
Sidekick: So come on!
Me: I'll be right there.
Sidekick: What are you doing.
Me: Nothing. (refresh)
The dialogue went on like this for a few minutes. I then had to admit what I was doing.
Me: Well, there's this yarn called Yarntini, and it's always sold out everywhere, and the woman who makes it... hold on... um... (looking closely at the screen) Ok... the woman who makes it is updating her Etsy shop right now. As she puts colors of yarn up, people are buying them instantly. You have to snatch them up...oh God! I think I have to buy this one. Hold on.
I then entered this controlled frenzy wherein I filled out forms and got email verifications and engaged in shopping cart madness, and actually managed to buy this:
I think the colorway is called "Good to Be Girl". But I can't be entirely sure. It all happened so fast.
Sidekick: You mean there are lots of knitters all online right now, trying to buy this yarn?
What I wanted to say was: They're trying. I'm buying. But that just seemed mean. What I said instead was:
Me: Yup. There are a lot of knitters in the world who love yarn. Pass the tacos, mister!
I highly recommend including delicious chicken tacos in your next celebration. If you do chicken. If not, I suppose any taco would do.
Happy Monday, everyone.
Yesterday afternoon, my sidekick came home with some delicious chicken tacos for dinner. When he walked in the front door, I was sitting at my laptop, hitting the refresh button every 5 seconds.
Sidekick: Hey! Delicious chicken tacos!
Me: (not taking my eyes off the screen) That's so great!
Sidekick: Come on and eat 'em!
Me: Just a second.
Sidekick: What are you doing?
Me: Nothing. (refresh)
Sidekick: So come on!
Me: I'll be right there.
Sidekick: What are you doing.
Me: Nothing. (refresh)
The dialogue went on like this for a few minutes. I then had to admit what I was doing.
Me: Well, there's this yarn called Yarntini, and it's always sold out everywhere, and the woman who makes it... hold on... um... (looking closely at the screen) Ok... the woman who makes it is updating her Etsy shop right now. As she puts colors of yarn up, people are buying them instantly. You have to snatch them up...oh God! I think I have to buy this one. Hold on.
I then entered this controlled frenzy wherein I filled out forms and got email verifications and engaged in shopping cart madness, and actually managed to buy this:
I think the colorway is called "Good to Be Girl". But I can't be entirely sure. It all happened so fast.
Sidekick: You mean there are lots of knitters all online right now, trying to buy this yarn?
What I wanted to say was: They're trying. I'm buying. But that just seemed mean. What I said instead was:
Me: Yup. There are a lot of knitters in the world who love yarn. Pass the tacos, mister!
I highly recommend including delicious chicken tacos in your next celebration. If you do chicken. If not, I suppose any taco would do.
Happy Monday, everyone.
Friday, March 02, 2007
Anne Lamott
Check it out.
You like Anne Lamott, right? You know, she wrote Operating Instructions and Bird by Bird and tons of other great stuff. She's a magnificent genius. And! She has a new book coming out called Grace (Eventually); Thoughts on Faith. That's cool, right?
But even better? The book tour.
Anne Lamott will be all over the place -- well, all over the US -- reading from her new book, signing your copy of that book, and being cool in real life and stuff.
For those of you in NYC, she'll be there March 20th. For the LA crowd, she'll be in Pasadena at Vroman's Bookstore March 28th. For those of you in Texas, looks like there's a big event in Austin May 15th that you can buy tickets for online. For the full data, check out the US schedule.
But check it out ASAP. Her San Francisco appearance at the end of March is already sold out.
Just thought you'd wanna know.
(Thanks to Kelly Kilmer on ArtGangLA for the tip!)
You like Anne Lamott, right? You know, she wrote Operating Instructions and Bird by Bird and tons of other great stuff. She's a magnificent genius. And! She has a new book coming out called Grace (Eventually); Thoughts on Faith. That's cool, right?
But even better? The book tour.
Anne Lamott will be all over the place -- well, all over the US -- reading from her new book, signing your copy of that book, and being cool in real life and stuff.
For those of you in NYC, she'll be there March 20th. For the LA crowd, she'll be in Pasadena at Vroman's Bookstore March 28th. For those of you in Texas, looks like there's a big event in Austin May 15th that you can buy tickets for online. For the full data, check out the US schedule.
But check it out ASAP. Her San Francisco appearance at the end of March is already sold out.
Just thought you'd wanna know.
(Thanks to Kelly Kilmer on ArtGangLA for the tip!)
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