...here into my Monday morning rain... Well, maybe not so much. It's very definitely still raining. Again. Still. Some more. It stopped raining briefly this morning, and I started hoping I could work outside a bit, clouds or no. But then, it started raining again. Surprise!
On the bright side, this gives me an excuse to stay inside and relax. I've been listening to the first book of Marion Zimmer Bradley's "The Mists of Avalon" and spinning. Oh, how I love to let Davina Porter read to me while I knit or spin. I have been neglecting my knitting for the spinning, which I am abysmal at. I overspin my fibers, and they end up kinking. But my yarn is very strong, at least. It's kind of nice to be this new at something, and to be learning. With knitting, I've done enough and seen and read enough that I feel almost obligated to be better than I really am. But with spinning, I can revel in being a novice. It's a liberating feeling. I'm searching e-bay for a wheel, but I'm enjoying playing with my drop spindle. So far, what I've spun is only good enough to tease the cat with. But she does love my ugly brown handspun. Momolla gave me some gorgeous purple Corriedale to play with, and I feel almost bad spinning it. I'm thinking I'll knit some placemats from the ugly brown stuff, then felt them. It'd be kind of artsy, and the felting would make it more difficult to tell how poorly the yarn was spun. I hope. If the lighting were any good at all today, I'd post some pictures of the crap yarn I've made. But sadly, the lighting in my house sucks. Maybe it's something else I can blame on the rain! When the big yellow thing in the sky comes out again, I will take some pictures for you all.
The Tour de France Knitalong is coming up. I'm debating whether or not to join. Last year, I was not exactly good about updating the people who ran the knitalong. But then, it would give me a great reason to post more often, and to put up more pictures. I'm leaning towards yes, and using it as an opportunity to knit something fun. Maybe. Probably.
If I'm babbling today, you'll have to bear with me. I went to a bachelorette party for one of my sorority sisters last night, and for the very first time, I was drunk (no worries, momolla. i had a designated driver. and i was only a little drunk. no puking or telling everyone how drunk i was or doing things i can't remember or showing people naked pictures of my self {the maid of honor was *very* drunk. but remarkably coordinated}). I can almost see why people want to be drunk now, the floaty feeling was a little fun. Of course, the even more impaired brain-mouth filter was not necessarily a good thing. And the lack of control is a little alarming for my type-a self. I spent the whole ride home babbling to Colleen about various things. She kept giggling at me and telling me how cute I was, so I cling to the hope I wasn't obnoxious. And yes, I did refrain from telling anyone "Dude, I'm soooo wasted!" which means I couldn't have been terribly drunk. Around here, the more you drink, the more compelled you are to tell everyone how drunk you are. One more reason I never went to college parties. My wonderful roommate agreed to be my designated driver, so I could imbibe safely. She also took me home and fed me bread and water and an aspirin. And this morning, I don't feel hungover. Still, I'm pretty sure I'm not cut out to be a partier.
Time to go spin some more and enjoy the delicious Davina reading to me. Happy Sunday!
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Monday, May 12, 2008
Pondering...
...because every so often, I have to talk about something other than my lack of knitting and my sucky job. Not often, but sometimes.
Bells wrote the other day about how she grew up convinced she wasn't pretty. That got me thinking about childhood, and how I'd always felt the same. Now, I'm pretty sure our family situations are different, but if that's the case, how did we both end up growing up feeling inadequate? What is it about us, and a startling number of other women, judging by the comments left, that we didn't feel beautiful?
I have always been loved, and surrounded by my wonderful, warm family. My mom has always told me I'm beautiful. But for some reason, I grew up convinced that of my parents' three children, I was the plain, stupid one. I know now that I'm not, but for a long, long time, I was convinced that I was ugly and dumb. My sisters got to be beautiful and smart, and here was I, stuck in the middle, just floating along.
I think, from some comments that my girl friends have made, that they may have grown up feeling un-pretty (which is such a great song). Now, I always take care to let them know that they are lovely young women. It's no less than the truth, but I try hard to compliment them.
And all this has got me wondering about women and how we treat ourselves and view ourselves, especially in a group. When you're out with some lady friends, and you say, "Man, I really need to go on a diet and lose X number of pounds, I'm so huge," they may or may not rush to tell you you look great the way you are (however true that may or may not be), but then, and this is the scary thing, no matter how skinny or how beautiful the people you're with are, at least half of them will say, "Oh, I'm so huge/have such a big nose/have such ugly hair/have this third eyeball in the middle of my forehead. You look great, but I need to lose weight/get a nose job/change my hair color/get the third eyeball in the middle of my forehead removed." And then other women will continue the trend. We spend so much time bonding by tearing ourselves down. And we try so hard not to be too arrogant, or too proud of our bodies. Besides, if you were to look at your lady friends and say, "I look great the way I am weight/nose/hair/extraneous eyeballs and all, please pass the cake." you would probably be lynched. At the very least, you would never be invited out again.
When men get together, it's all about the bragging. Trust me, I've seen and heard a lot of man gatherings. They're all God's greatest gift to the world. And they all agree. Women can only bond that way by tearing ourselves, and sometimes whichever mutual acquaintances happen to not be with us, to shreds. No matter how pretty or how smart or how happy we are, we are always too unattractive, dumb, or discontent. This isn't even always the truth, but it's how we communicate. And this, my friends, is why we need to bolster each other, and ourselves. We need to not be afraid to love our bodies and our lives (though, if you have a third eyeball, it's okay to get that taken care of. nobody would judge you for being a little self-conscious about that) and to admit that in public. But I'd bet you a lot of yarn that this is a thought that won't take hold. Which is a weird thing, since there are several psychological studies showing that people who concentrate on positives in their lives are happier. Maybe women need to change the way we relate, at least a little.
What are your thoughts on beauty? This is enough of me babbling for one night, but this is a topic that has fascinated me for a long time. Let's discuss it.
Bells wrote the other day about how she grew up convinced she wasn't pretty. That got me thinking about childhood, and how I'd always felt the same. Now, I'm pretty sure our family situations are different, but if that's the case, how did we both end up growing up feeling inadequate? What is it about us, and a startling number of other women, judging by the comments left, that we didn't feel beautiful?
I have always been loved, and surrounded by my wonderful, warm family. My mom has always told me I'm beautiful. But for some reason, I grew up convinced that of my parents' three children, I was the plain, stupid one. I know now that I'm not, but for a long, long time, I was convinced that I was ugly and dumb. My sisters got to be beautiful and smart, and here was I, stuck in the middle, just floating along.
I think, from some comments that my girl friends have made, that they may have grown up feeling un-pretty (which is such a great song). Now, I always take care to let them know that they are lovely young women. It's no less than the truth, but I try hard to compliment them.
And all this has got me wondering about women and how we treat ourselves and view ourselves, especially in a group. When you're out with some lady friends, and you say, "Man, I really need to go on a diet and lose X number of pounds, I'm so huge," they may or may not rush to tell you you look great the way you are (however true that may or may not be), but then, and this is the scary thing, no matter how skinny or how beautiful the people you're with are, at least half of them will say, "Oh, I'm so huge/have such a big nose/have such ugly hair/have this third eyeball in the middle of my forehead. You look great, but I need to lose weight/get a nose job/change my hair color/get the third eyeball in the middle of my forehead removed." And then other women will continue the trend. We spend so much time bonding by tearing ourselves down. And we try so hard not to be too arrogant, or too proud of our bodies. Besides, if you were to look at your lady friends and say, "I look great the way I am weight/nose/hair/extraneous eyeballs and all, please pass the cake." you would probably be lynched. At the very least, you would never be invited out again.
When men get together, it's all about the bragging. Trust me, I've seen and heard a lot of man gatherings. They're all God's greatest gift to the world. And they all agree. Women can only bond that way by tearing ourselves, and sometimes whichever mutual acquaintances happen to not be with us, to shreds. No matter how pretty or how smart or how happy we are, we are always too unattractive, dumb, or discontent. This isn't even always the truth, but it's how we communicate. And this, my friends, is why we need to bolster each other, and ourselves. We need to not be afraid to love our bodies and our lives (though, if you have a third eyeball, it's okay to get that taken care of. nobody would judge you for being a little self-conscious about that) and to admit that in public. But I'd bet you a lot of yarn that this is a thought that won't take hold. Which is a weird thing, since there are several psychological studies showing that people who concentrate on positives in their lives are happier. Maybe women need to change the way we relate, at least a little.
What are your thoughts on beauty? This is enough of me babbling for one night, but this is a topic that has fascinated me for a long time. Let's discuss it.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Rumors of my demise...
...have, of course, been greatly exaggerated. My work schedule has been what could charitably be called erratic. As such, my sleeping, eating, and free time schedules have also been erratic. And well, I've been tired. A tired Emily does not make for good blogging. Granted, an energized Emily tends to make sketchy blogging at best. But a tired Emily makes for particularly sketchy blogging.
There has been precious little knitting here (there's been precious little anything), since my revised routine is to wake up, take a shower, head off to work, train our latest new guy (though I'm only half-trained at best, myself), come home, eat something, and go to sleep. Dreadfully exciting, I know.
The new computer and I are continuing to get along well, thankfully. Even Dadumms approves of my new baby. My personal favorite part of this whole having my own computer thing is that I can sit in bed and listen to books while I knit, I can read blogs, I can browse the interwebs. Life with my new technology is good.
The bribe sock has been frogged and re-started. It's slow going, because of the whole crazy-schedule-not-doing-anything-fun thing. But I have faith that by next winter, I will have a whole pair. Okay, maybe next spring. But there will be a pair of socks. Eventually...
Two of my sisters of the heart are graduating college in the next few weeks. I have known both of these women for, oh, fifteen or sixteen years. Amy and Kely are two of my favorite people ever. We don't talk as much as we used to, we're a little scattered now. But there's something about our friendship that's like your favorite pair of sneakers. You may not wear them all the time, but when you put them back on again, they're a perfect fit.
Kely is quite possibly the best person I know. She's getting her nursing degree this year, and she plans to spend a few months in Africa, teaching English and helping. That's what Kely does, she helps. Rather than talking about making a difference or changing the world, she just does it. She flew out to New Orleans on her spring break after Hurrican Katrina and volunteered with Habitat for Humanity. She's smart, she's beautiful, she's sweet and friendly and patient and has a kind of quiet, unassuming faith that I can only admire. She's the kind of person that, if she weren't your friend, you may just have to hate because she is just that good. And yet, she's got a sense of humor, she's compassionate, and she's human. When I think of what I want to be when I grow up, I think of Kely. There are not enough good words for her. Kely has hopes of saving my pagan, doubting soul, she keeps bringing me to Take a Sinner to Church Nights(ever been to one? they're fun, sometimes. and sometimes, somebody looks you in the eye and tells you that you're wrong, just because you don't believe what they do) at her church, hoping it will rub off on me. And in spite of, or maybe because of, the fact that the religion hasn't taken, we have wonderful debates about philosophy and religion and god and the nature of humanity.
And Amy is the one person in the world that I feel like I can say anything to without being judged. She and I have been through a lot together, and if there is anyone in this world that I know unquestionably will love me no matter what, it is her. And the cool thing is, she knows that I return the favor. We can talk on the phone for hours, and we can stay at the local diner nursing a cup of coffee doing the same. She collects funny quotes from her friends (WD-40, tap it like it's rusty!) and writes them down in a book. She's artistic and though she's smart, she works very hard for the good grades she manages to get. Amy is beautiful, in every sense of the word. She was a ballerina up until high school, when she decided to give her art up to have more of a social life. Amy will be getting a communications degree, and I expect her to do on and write wonderful books when she's ready to share them with the world. She's kind and friendly and warm and one of the most genuine people that I know. She's not at all afraid to be who she is and what she is.
These are two of the strong, wonderful women that I've been surrounded with growing up. Looking at it now, I realize that there are a number of extraordinary women that have played a part in my life. It has been a pleasure to grow up with these two, and it warms my heart to know that one day, we will be three old ladies sitting on a porch in our rockers somewhere. Knowing them, loving them, has made me who I am today. Well, okay. They're responsible for the good parts, anyway. There's a small group of us who, growing up, have always felt like a little family, through childhood and adolescence, and now into adulthood. I'll share some stories about the rest of us some other time, but for now, I think it just may be time for me to get to bed. If you'd like to share, though, I'd love to hear about the strong women in your lives.
There has been precious little knitting here (there's been precious little anything), since my revised routine is to wake up, take a shower, head off to work, train our latest new guy (though I'm only half-trained at best, myself), come home, eat something, and go to sleep. Dreadfully exciting, I know.
The new computer and I are continuing to get along well, thankfully. Even Dadumms approves of my new baby. My personal favorite part of this whole having my own computer thing is that I can sit in bed and listen to books while I knit, I can read blogs, I can browse the interwebs. Life with my new technology is good.
The bribe sock has been frogged and re-started. It's slow going, because of the whole crazy-schedule-not-doing-anything-fun thing. But I have faith that by next winter, I will have a whole pair. Okay, maybe next spring. But there will be a pair of socks. Eventually...
Two of my sisters of the heart are graduating college in the next few weeks. I have known both of these women for, oh, fifteen or sixteen years. Amy and Kely are two of my favorite people ever. We don't talk as much as we used to, we're a little scattered now. But there's something about our friendship that's like your favorite pair of sneakers. You may not wear them all the time, but when you put them back on again, they're a perfect fit.
Kely is quite possibly the best person I know. She's getting her nursing degree this year, and she plans to spend a few months in Africa, teaching English and helping. That's what Kely does, she helps. Rather than talking about making a difference or changing the world, she just does it. She flew out to New Orleans on her spring break after Hurrican Katrina and volunteered with Habitat for Humanity. She's smart, she's beautiful, she's sweet and friendly and patient and has a kind of quiet, unassuming faith that I can only admire. She's the kind of person that, if she weren't your friend, you may just have to hate because she is just that good. And yet, she's got a sense of humor, she's compassionate, and she's human. When I think of what I want to be when I grow up, I think of Kely. There are not enough good words for her. Kely has hopes of saving my pagan, doubting soul, she keeps bringing me to Take a Sinner to Church Nights(ever been to one? they're fun, sometimes. and sometimes, somebody looks you in the eye and tells you that you're wrong, just because you don't believe what they do) at her church, hoping it will rub off on me. And in spite of, or maybe because of, the fact that the religion hasn't taken, we have wonderful debates about philosophy and religion and god and the nature of humanity.
And Amy is the one person in the world that I feel like I can say anything to without being judged. She and I have been through a lot together, and if there is anyone in this world that I know unquestionably will love me no matter what, it is her. And the cool thing is, she knows that I return the favor. We can talk on the phone for hours, and we can stay at the local diner nursing a cup of coffee doing the same. She collects funny quotes from her friends (WD-40, tap it like it's rusty!) and writes them down in a book. She's artistic and though she's smart, she works very hard for the good grades she manages to get. Amy is beautiful, in every sense of the word. She was a ballerina up until high school, when she decided to give her art up to have more of a social life. Amy will be getting a communications degree, and I expect her to do on and write wonderful books when she's ready to share them with the world. She's kind and friendly and warm and one of the most genuine people that I know. She's not at all afraid to be who she is and what she is.
These are two of the strong, wonderful women that I've been surrounded with growing up. Looking at it now, I realize that there are a number of extraordinary women that have played a part in my life. It has been a pleasure to grow up with these two, and it warms my heart to know that one day, we will be three old ladies sitting on a porch in our rockers somewhere. Knowing them, loving them, has made me who I am today. Well, okay. They're responsible for the good parts, anyway. There's a small group of us who, growing up, have always felt like a little family, through childhood and adolescence, and now into adulthood. I'll share some stories about the rest of us some other time, but for now, I think it just may be time for me to get to bed. If you'd like to share, though, I'd love to hear about the strong women in your lives.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Reason I Loathe My Job Number 6,937,082
I had to root through a dumpster for a customer last night. Twice. Yup. I wasn't going to complain about my job this time, but I just had to share. Coincidentally, I'm polishing up my resume. Anybody know of a company in southeastern PA looking for a professional, outgoing, creative person to do...something? No? Me, neither. But I'll keep you posted on the job search.
My taxes are filed! I feel like such an adult. And for some reason, I'm hardly getting anything back. Bah. And what little I will get back, I will probably put right into paying off some bills, or perhaps I will save it for an emergency or a rainy day. It would be more fun to treat myself to some fiber, or to scout out my own spinning wheel, but it would also be good to have a little bit of a reserve. That way, when the zombies invade, I have a supply of cash ready to go so I can stock up on non-perishables and other survival supplies. Paranoid? Me? No, not at all.
I have yet to frog the second bribe sock. I'm still slightly in denial--I keep thinking that if I just leave it one more day, I will have an epiphany as to how to fix it without having to rip out two month's worth of stitches. Why, yes, I am an extraordinarily slow knitter. I've been using the past few days to knit on the boss baby blanket, and to fondle my pretty, pretty roving. I'm fairly certain I suck at spinning, but then, I'm brandy-new at it, so that's to be expected. Not tolerated for long, but expected. I'm looking for a good tutorial online, I think I may be spinning it much, much too tightly. And I also have trouble keeping the weight uniform throughout, I'll have to use this for a novelty knit or something. There's tons of my brown beginner's roving, though, so it may have to be a big novelty item.
Speaking of knitting, I'm thinking I'd like to knit a wedding shawl for a friend who's getting married next June. I figure if I start soon, could have it blocked and ready by the night before. Have I mentioned I'm a slow knitter? I'd really love to knit something ethereal and floaty, but not too frilly, since she's not the very most feminine young woman that I know. I'm looking for some patterns that might work, and then I'll start looking for materials. Ebay, here I come. I'm thinking maybe some white silk, with beads either worked in, or along the edges. We'll see how much that'll run me, though, the budget's a little tight at the moment.
I think spring is making my knitting commitment issues worse. I'm bad enough at finishing things when the weather's gloomy and I'm bored, but now that it's sixty degrees and sunny out, I'm overcome with the need to cast on all manner of things. This is terrible. I've been slacking off on the sock-who-will-not-be-named, and procrastinating on the bribe sock. And I've only got about a foot of the boss baby blanket finished. The child was born in January! I think it may be time to crack the whip, and make myself do something productive. After these are all handled, I may have to give project monogamy a try. Or at least scale back on the polygamous urges.
Today is warm and sunny and bright, and I wish you could all have a slice of our weather for once. I'm thinking of retracting all of those nasty things I thought about how it's always raining and Pennsylvania in the spring must surely be the most miserable place in the world. Of course, NOAA says that by Saturday, it will be raining again. Figures.
My taxes are filed! I feel like such an adult. And for some reason, I'm hardly getting anything back. Bah. And what little I will get back, I will probably put right into paying off some bills, or perhaps I will save it for an emergency or a rainy day. It would be more fun to treat myself to some fiber, or to scout out my own spinning wheel, but it would also be good to have a little bit of a reserve. That way, when the zombies invade, I have a supply of cash ready to go so I can stock up on non-perishables and other survival supplies. Paranoid? Me? No, not at all.
I have yet to frog the second bribe sock. I'm still slightly in denial--I keep thinking that if I just leave it one more day, I will have an epiphany as to how to fix it without having to rip out two month's worth of stitches. Why, yes, I am an extraordinarily slow knitter. I've been using the past few days to knit on the boss baby blanket, and to fondle my pretty, pretty roving. I'm fairly certain I suck at spinning, but then, I'm brandy-new at it, so that's to be expected. Not tolerated for long, but expected. I'm looking for a good tutorial online, I think I may be spinning it much, much too tightly. And I also have trouble keeping the weight uniform throughout, I'll have to use this for a novelty knit or something. There's tons of my brown beginner's roving, though, so it may have to be a big novelty item.
Speaking of knitting, I'm thinking I'd like to knit a wedding shawl for a friend who's getting married next June. I figure if I start soon, could have it blocked and ready by the night before. Have I mentioned I'm a slow knitter? I'd really love to knit something ethereal and floaty, but not too frilly, since she's not the very most feminine young woman that I know. I'm looking for some patterns that might work, and then I'll start looking for materials. Ebay, here I come. I'm thinking maybe some white silk, with beads either worked in, or along the edges. We'll see how much that'll run me, though, the budget's a little tight at the moment.
I think spring is making my knitting commitment issues worse. I'm bad enough at finishing things when the weather's gloomy and I'm bored, but now that it's sixty degrees and sunny out, I'm overcome with the need to cast on all manner of things. This is terrible. I've been slacking off on the sock-who-will-not-be-named, and procrastinating on the bribe sock. And I've only got about a foot of the boss baby blanket finished. The child was born in January! I think it may be time to crack the whip, and make myself do something productive. After these are all handled, I may have to give project monogamy a try. Or at least scale back on the polygamous urges.
Today is warm and sunny and bright, and I wish you could all have a slice of our weather for once. I'm thinking of retracting all of those nasty things I thought about how it's always raining and Pennsylvania in the spring must surely be the most miserable place in the world. Of course, NOAA says that by Saturday, it will be raining again. Figures.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Lest you think I am a terrible person...
...who only whines and complains about her life and is shallow and awful, I give you a happy, colorful post. Look at all the pretties! No yarn content today, just some pretty outdoorsy bits to celebrate that big, yellow thing I saw in the sky yesterday. I think it may be that mythical sun thing I keep hearing so much cool stuff about. This was the kind of day where the air is warm and sweet and smells like grass and there are people out and about enjoying life. The sun on your skin feels almost magical, because you haven't felt it in months, and wearing a t-shirt feels slightly scandalous, since your arms haven't seen the world outside your house in what feels like years. The whole world feels like it's waking up, and it's good to just be a part of that.
These, and the picture above, are the faux flowers planted in the yard. Well, some of them. They're clustered at the bottom of some shrubs that I can't identify. They will be coming out of the ground next weekend, and I will be looking for some things to replace them with of a more organic type. I'm still amused by them, though, to the point where I'm contemplating keeping them. They're so unapologetically happy looking. And quirky. And now that the rest of the yard is green, you can hardly tell that they're fake. Okay, it's not quite so blatantly apparent, at least.
There are violets in the bed in front of the house. They always look so pretty and dainty, I wish I knew how to keep them indoors. They're some of the only plants in the front worth cultivating to me, but then, that could be because they remind me of my youth. When I was in grade school, I used to walk by a house that had a huge, verdant bed of violets in front of it every day on my way to school and then back home. The sight of all those lush vines with the delicate flowers has stuck with me in the back of my mind all these years, and they still make me think of spring.
There are hyacinths scattered around in front of the house in the planted areas, in a random pattern. I think the last owner just got them for Easter and planted the bulbs wherever the mood struck her. I'd like to see where they all are and try to work in a few more to make it less, ah, chaotic, and more visually stimulating. They're beautiful flowers, you can see the purply-blue of the blossoms and how it's limned in white. Lovely, lovely things. And so spring-like.
And this is a bush with some lovely pink blooms on it. I've no idea what it is (my horticultural knowledge is nearly nonexistent), but the flowers are silky and small and very feminine looking somehow. Maybe it's the pink. Whatever it is, the clusters of flowers look very becoming, I could easily see them used in some pretty bouquets or a floating flower arrangement. They're next to this odd, leafy thing that I can't identify and that seems to be a houseplant left to its own devices for too long.And here we have a close-up of the blooms on what I have thought of as the inexplicable sideways bush, it looks like it's growing straight out to the side, parallel to the ground. In the winter, we had no idea what it was, and so were planning on taking it out.
I'm thinking those plans have to change. Cut it back some, yes. It does block access to the postage stamp of land behind the house. But take it out? Oh, no. Forsythia is so joyful looking, isn't it? It looks best when it's wild and left to its own devices. And the bush, despite the odd angle, seems to be pretty healthy. It's in better shape than the one in the backyard, anyway. Of course, this one gets more sunlight.
Here is the obligatory spring daffodil picture. It actually does the happy, sunny color of these flowers some justice. We have a half-dozen or so of them sprawling out by the porch steps, and they look so at home, and I haven't the heart to take something so pretty out of the ground so that something else can go there.
And here you see some of the tasteful, lovely things that have been forced on, rather, ah, gifted to us here. We have a birdhouse, painted rather festively, that my uncle snuck into Jim's truck when Jim was bringing furniture back up. To the right of the birdhouse is my very own piece of classy yard ornamentation, a flamingo. His arms flap a little when it's windy. He's actually kind of cute, and I'm fond of him. Like the penguin in the shower, he's friendly and kind of festive. I haven't picked out a name for him yet, any suggestions?
Friday, April 11, 2008
Dear Mr. Angry Customer
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?
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?
Friday, April 4, 2008
Practicing my Delayed Gratification Skills
Well, Jim and I have finally picked a computer for me. There was much deliberation, and a phone call or two to my Dadumms, and a decision was reached. In spite of my general dislike of Dell products, I am about to be the owner of one of their laptops. Dell seems to make a good, solid, reliable laptop, which is what I need, especially for when I go back to school (fall 09 is the goal, feel free to nag/question/remind/encourage) and will have to have something portable and easy to work with. I ordered a Vostro 1500,which is actually designed for a small business. No, I don't have a business, but the options available to businesses were a lot more palatable and user-friendly. Jim could tell you all about the RAM and the front side bus speed and such. I can tell you that it's black and that the screen is a little over fifteen inches big. When it comes to computers, I can operate them competently enough, but I know pretty much nothing about them in terms of specs and requirements. I'm told this one will be as close to perfect as I can get for under bajillions of dollars, and I trust my technology gurus.
The only downside is that there were a few customized options Jim picked out for me. I know, that's not actually bad. He picked the upgraded bits and the important stuff. But it means that the wonderful people at Dell have to build my laptop before they can send it out. The estimated shipment date is the ninth. Shipping takes three to five days after that. This is actually pretty quick, and shipping is free. But I'm not sure my roommates can refrain from killing me for that much longer. See, I'm just a wee, tiny, touch bit thrilled about this. So I keep talking about it. And asking Jim about it. And talking about it. Fortunately, though, when the computer gets here and is deemed perfect for my consumption, I will gleefully disappear for a few days to acquaint myself with it. Ahhhh, technology.
I'm glad you folks all like the story of the Penguin Wars. The saga will continue, I assure you. And yes, that's precisely why I didn't look thrilled when I opened a box and found a penguin. Dadumms took my copy of his car key back over the weekend, to ensure that I can't give him any more gifts. This just means I have to be more creative. And I will. I will also keep you wonderful folks up to date. Don't tell my parents this (mom, stop reading, okay? just skip to the next paragraph. move along, there's nothing here for you to see) but this is kind of fun.
I find I have inherited a box of tatting materials from my aunt's aunt that, really, I pretty much don't know what to do with. I've always wanted to try tatting lace, but I'm intimidated by a size 000 hook and the thread. Plus, I can't seem to find any instructions for this type of lace-making online. I'm thinking I may have to try to find a local craft store and look for a book, or perhaps check Amazon for one. Are any of you folks at all familiar with tatting? Know anyone that is who could answer some questions? I have a pretty good grasp of crochet, but I'm not sure how that would work with something this small and fragile. In the mean time, there are some handkerchiefs in there I might try some edging on.
I have finally turned the heel on the bribe sock, which thrills me. I'm in the home stretch! It's only taken me forever and roughly a day to do this. By the time I actually finish my little pretty, it will be nearly too warm for them. Speaking of socks, there's a pair I want to make Dadumms for Father's Day. There is no pattern, so I will have to wing it. Yes, you should be afraid. A novice knitter, winging it. See, we used to run around in our socks a lot as children. You know how with commercial socks, you can get that big, flappy bit at your toes when they start slipping off? My dad calls them sock walruses. For Father's Day, I want to knit him some brown socks and put tusks and whiskers and eyes on them. It sounds a little over the top, but I think he'll get a kick out of them. I'm considering trying to make them more like slipper-socks, though, since I can't see him wearing them anywhere but around the house. So something warm and wool and soft, with maybe a felted pad on the bottom, and some silicone dots for traction? I have yarn I can use, I just need to sit down and plan this out. Any thoughts?
Time for me to hit the hay now, got a long weekend in front of me. Lots of work and extra-curriculars going on. I hope your weekend is fun and warm and bright. And if it is, I hope you tell me all about it, it's going to be cold and rainy again this weekend. Imagine that. Rain. In Pennsylvania. Who'd have thought?
The only downside is that there were a few customized options Jim picked out for me. I know, that's not actually bad. He picked the upgraded bits and the important stuff. But it means that the wonderful people at Dell have to build my laptop before they can send it out. The estimated shipment date is the ninth. Shipping takes three to five days after that. This is actually pretty quick, and shipping is free. But I'm not sure my roommates can refrain from killing me for that much longer. See, I'm just a wee, tiny, touch bit thrilled about this. So I keep talking about it. And asking Jim about it. And talking about it. Fortunately, though, when the computer gets here and is deemed perfect for my consumption, I will gleefully disappear for a few days to acquaint myself with it. Ahhhh, technology.
I'm glad you folks all like the story of the Penguin Wars. The saga will continue, I assure you. And yes, that's precisely why I didn't look thrilled when I opened a box and found a penguin. Dadumms took my copy of his car key back over the weekend, to ensure that I can't give him any more gifts. This just means I have to be more creative. And I will. I will also keep you wonderful folks up to date. Don't tell my parents this (mom, stop reading, okay? just skip to the next paragraph. move along, there's nothing here for you to see) but this is kind of fun.
I find I have inherited a box of tatting materials from my aunt's aunt that, really, I pretty much don't know what to do with. I've always wanted to try tatting lace, but I'm intimidated by a size 000 hook and the thread. Plus, I can't seem to find any instructions for this type of lace-making online. I'm thinking I may have to try to find a local craft store and look for a book, or perhaps check Amazon for one. Are any of you folks at all familiar with tatting? Know anyone that is who could answer some questions? I have a pretty good grasp of crochet, but I'm not sure how that would work with something this small and fragile. In the mean time, there are some handkerchiefs in there I might try some edging on.
I have finally turned the heel on the bribe sock, which thrills me. I'm in the home stretch! It's only taken me forever and roughly a day to do this. By the time I actually finish my little pretty, it will be nearly too warm for them. Speaking of socks, there's a pair I want to make Dadumms for Father's Day. There is no pattern, so I will have to wing it. Yes, you should be afraid. A novice knitter, winging it. See, we used to run around in our socks a lot as children. You know how with commercial socks, you can get that big, flappy bit at your toes when they start slipping off? My dad calls them sock walruses. For Father's Day, I want to knit him some brown socks and put tusks and whiskers and eyes on them. It sounds a little over the top, but I think he'll get a kick out of them. I'm considering trying to make them more like slipper-socks, though, since I can't see him wearing them anywhere but around the house. So something warm and wool and soft, with maybe a felted pad on the bottom, and some silicone dots for traction? I have yarn I can use, I just need to sit down and plan this out. Any thoughts?
Time for me to hit the hay now, got a long weekend in front of me. Lots of work and extra-curriculars going on. I hope your weekend is fun and warm and bright. And if it is, I hope you tell me all about it, it's going to be cold and rainy again this weekend. Imagine that. Rain. In Pennsylvania. Who'd have thought?
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