I'm very sorry that after we fixed your car, something different and completely unrelated to what we fixed broke. I'm even more sorry I can't prove to you that we didn't break it. I'm sorry that the technician who worked on it was an ASE-certified Mastertech of thirtyish years who happened to not show you his credentials first. I'm even more sorry he heard you call him incompetent. I'm sorry that your car is an unreliable piece of shit. I'm even more sorry you brought it to us. I'm very, very sorry that your wife is in the hospital dying--that is something nobody should ever have to watch. I'm even more sorry you chose to take your frustrations, fear, anger, and anxiety out on me--I had nothing to do with your car, from the time you dropped it off to the time you picked it up. I'm sorry you had to be somewhere in a timely fashion and that your car troubles may prevent that. I'm even more sorry you didn't think to get your car fixed until it stopped running--it would've been easier to fix if you'd maintained it. I'm sorry that the dealership you bought the car from did some crappy work to it and you lost your paperwork. I'm even more sorry you felt the need to yell at my co-worker about it--it's not his fault you lost the paperwork from the dealership. I'm sorry that my mechanic called you a fuckhead--it was unprofessional, no matter how deserved. I'm even more sorry you chose to act in a manner to us that made you worthy of the title. I am not sorry that I spoke to you calmly, but assertively. I am not sorry I did not accept your apology for screaming at me for ten minutes about how much your life sucks right now before stopping long enough for me to ask what was going on. I am not sorry about the work we did, it was justified, approved by you, and well-executed. I hope that someday, you realize you need a better way to handle your many issues than to yell at people who have nothing to do with them. If that doesn't happen, I hope somebody stands up to you, tells you to get the hell out, and that your engine seizes in traffic. You fuckhead.
Yup, it was that kind of a day at the boys. I loathe my job sometimes. So, now that that's out of my system, let's talk about happy stuff. My computer is here! Mmmmm, technology of my own. It's all shiny and sleek and black and sexy. And portable. I am blogging from bed while I eat ice cream. How decadent is that? I love that I can curl up on the couch and play while Jim watches the NFL channel. I love so much that I can dump the pictures off my camera onto the computer. I can download books to listen to while I knit, I can install my games and my frivolous software. I can bookmark any page that strikes my fancy. I can change my homepage. I can do anything. Yes, my friends, life is good. To celebrate the basic goodness of life, I give you pictures. These are inspired by RoseRed, and her marvelous shoe collection. They're not half so lovely as some of the ones she's been showing off, but I think they're fabulous.
These beautiful creatures were fourteen dollars on clearance and once I saw them, I had to have them. The color in the pictures, despite the crappy lighting, is pretty true-to-life. They're a deep, vivid jewel blue and very, very shiny. The heels are tall, but not terrible so. They flare out slightly towards the heel, which gives them some support. They are great to walk in, since the sole and the heel are both made of rubber. Well, okay, they're as great as any heels ever are. I know they're not good for your feet. But they do make your legs look great. You can't tell from this angle, but I painted my toenails specifically for these pictures. My roommates think I'm crazy, but then, they're getting used to that. I think I will wear these to my friend's wedding in June, with a little black dress and a lovely shawl. I'd like to knit one, but there just won't be enough time for me to do that in a month and a half. Slow is my knitting style.
Here are my shiny blue shoes posing playfully on the bed--the white sheets give a much better color contrast than the shit brown of my floor. And it's so much easier to photograph shoes when they're not actually on your feet! RoseRed, I'm not quite sure how you do it so artistically ever week.
In other, less encouraging news, I have to frog the second bribe sock. I tried it on, hoping to offer you ladies some quality knitting photos, and to my horror, this is as far as it would go up my foot. Did I think to double check the size of this sock? No. Did I take it for granted that the same knitter using the same materials and the same pattern would produce the same finished object, despite all previous evidence to the contrary? Yes. Was that a stupid move? Yes, very. Do I feel stupid? Ohhhh, yeah, dumb as a box of hammers. Have I found yet another aspect of knitting to obsess and freak out about? Yup. Was I not OCD enough before? Obviously not, and this has only proven to me that one can never be too obsessed with something.
This is a very telling picture of the size difference between the two socks. The smaller one is on top, and there's a difference of about an inch. This is soooo not something I can block out and then fake. It's not even something I can call a design feature. Unless I want to give one sock to a poor/sick/injured child in a hospital/home/shelter and one to a homeless/unemployed/abused adult in a halfway house/street corner/supermarket, the second one has to come out. I can see the difference in the stitch size when I compare the two, now. It's blatantly obvious. But the original bribe sock went to the sock drawer to be socialized, because I'm an optimist, and I thought his brother would be joining him soon, and little more attention was paid, except for the occasional caress when taking some cheap commercial socks out to wear. And so here I am, preparing to frog my second-ever sock (excluding the sock-who-shall-not-be-named-because-naming-said-devil-sock-causes-it-to-misbehave-and-
drive-me-batshit-crazy). And that's the state of knitting affairs. I had thought the great and mighty suck that was today was over and done with when I got home, but just like always, life has given me a great surprise. The one thing I can really count on is that life never stops surprising me. The only good thing about it is that it keeps things interesting. After all, if I didn't continually screw up my knitting and find out two thirds of the way through, or do any of the other zany, bizarre things that I do, then I wouldn't have anything to blog about. And then what would you read to feel better about your life, eh? This blog serves an important purpose.
In other other news, I have health insurance again. Yay, insurance! Sure, it's pretty terrible coverage, all things considered, but on the bright side, if I become ill to the point where I'm considering the merits of the emergency room and wondering how long the waiting list for the free clinic the next town over is, I can just go to a local doctor, possibly even the one whose office I live next to. And if I should need some kind of doctor-controlled medication, I would not have to weight the benefits of food or timely rent payments against the benefits of modern medicine. In fact, I can probably stop sacrificing goats for my good health. I may keep up with that, since it's been effective so far, though. We'll see.
And here we are, segueing into the weekend again. May the weekend wherever you are be filled with beauty and wonder. May you not have to think of someone as a fuckhead, wherever you go and whatever you do. And may you baffle at least one non-knitter with some inexplicable knitter behavior. Maybe if the rain ever stops, I will photograph some pretty yarn-type products in my yard. There are flowers of the organic variety out there, now, too. How cool is that?