It's a holiday weekend. So I may not be around much. I'll try my best to keep in touch though.
Day 6: What is your favourite piece that you've knit?
Every single sock, and the cabled scarf I did for The Other Half. I'll get pictures this weekend.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Thursday, June 28, 2012
So this is what Hades feels like....
I am a northern girl. I do not mix well with heat. It's something like 35C/105F, so it's several degrees hotter in my apartment. There's no way I'm knitting in this sweat box. Not even a sock. Not if you paid me.
Day 5: How long did it take from the time your learned how to knit, to finish your first project?
Technically my first project is still on the needles, and has been for four years. The first project I finished was a pair of socks. I started those.... when... 2011? or winter 2010? You see how important they were to me. Probably sometime in 2011, which means that when I learned to knit back in 2008, and cast on for the Demon Sweater, I didn't make a finished object until 3 years later. Granted there was some major life changes in there so I didn't actually knit for a good long while, but yeah, about 3 years.
To come back to the heat thing, I have something I want to share quickly. I missed the one bus to get home from work and so, knowing how foxtrotting hot it is outside, took a quick detour to a bargain store to grab something quick for dinner, and a bottle of water. As I passed the front of the building, one of the local homeless guys that tends to hang around there asked me for some change. Now I'd seen him down there before, known drunk, and certainly smelled of it as I walked past. So I had a thought: I'd do a decent thing and instead of giving him money for alcohol, I'd get the guy a bottle of water. That way at least I wouldn't have to worry about him passing out from dehydration or heat stroke. I'll spend a buck to help a life, and a buck got the guy a litre of cold water. I handed it off without much fanfare (but did get many heartfelt thank yous), and then went to the bus stop. As I stood there, melting, slowly dying and wondering if I would make it home, I suddenly had a realization: I just did something I'd seen my Mom do many times before in various cities. Kinda made me smile. There you go Mom. For all our differences, you raised a decent human being, one capable of giving freely to others to make a life a little bit better.
Of course my ability to selflessly think of others has gotten me into trouble, when I don't selflessly think of the right person first, but that's a whole 'nother kettle of fish.
I'm going to blow up some tanks now.
Day 5: How long did it take from the time your learned how to knit, to finish your first project?
Technically my first project is still on the needles, and has been for four years. The first project I finished was a pair of socks. I started those.... when... 2011? or winter 2010? You see how important they were to me. Probably sometime in 2011, which means that when I learned to knit back in 2008, and cast on for the Demon Sweater, I didn't make a finished object until 3 years later. Granted there was some major life changes in there so I didn't actually knit for a good long while, but yeah, about 3 years.
To come back to the heat thing, I have something I want to share quickly. I missed the one bus to get home from work and so, knowing how foxtrotting hot it is outside, took a quick detour to a bargain store to grab something quick for dinner, and a bottle of water. As I passed the front of the building, one of the local homeless guys that tends to hang around there asked me for some change. Now I'd seen him down there before, known drunk, and certainly smelled of it as I walked past. So I had a thought: I'd do a decent thing and instead of giving him money for alcohol, I'd get the guy a bottle of water. That way at least I wouldn't have to worry about him passing out from dehydration or heat stroke. I'll spend a buck to help a life, and a buck got the guy a litre of cold water. I handed it off without much fanfare (but did get many heartfelt thank yous), and then went to the bus stop. As I stood there, melting, slowly dying and wondering if I would make it home, I suddenly had a realization: I just did something I'd seen my Mom do many times before in various cities. Kinda made me smile. There you go Mom. For all our differences, you raised a decent human being, one capable of giving freely to others to make a life a little bit better.
Of course my ability to selflessly think of others has gotten me into trouble, when I don't selflessly think of the right person first, but that's a whole 'nother kettle of fish.
I'm going to blow up some tanks now.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Walk of Shame
I fell off the wagon.
I can't believe it happened so soon, but I fell off already. I could make excuses, but they're the excuses made by addicts the world around: "It was a hard day", "I need it", "I deserve a treat", "It's just once"
It just sucks that I'm addicted to junk food. I haven't opened the bag, yet (Miss Vickie's Original), but I still feel like I failed. I'm confessing this here to hold myself accountable for my actions, my decisions. It hurts, I feel shame. This is a necessary thing though. I am unhealthy, and slowly killing myself because of it. If I don't do something now, what happens in however many years when I'm diabetic, or suffering heart attacks, or an important diagnosis for cancer gets missed because of my weight. I've been doing really well on portion control, and learning to listen to my appetite to know when I'm hungry versus thirsty versus bored/depressed; as well as learning to listen to "I'm full" (that one has been hard). I am trying to walk more, which has been having moderate success, but I know how I have to kick my butt into real action: take responsibility, hold myself accountable.
I will have to cut off yarn purchases if I can't get this sh** under control.
And not do so much damage to my own self-esteem that I drive myself to open that bag for that horrible instant gratification.
Okay, enough of that.
Moving on to knitting: I finished the gusset and am well into the foot. I will have to check my notes again to confirm foot length. These socks may turn out to be a little bit more on they "easy fit" side, but at least I know there won't be distortion around the heel. I always, always forget how BIG man-feet are until I'm actually getting close to the end of the sock and I have to go "Oh yeah... they're supposed to be that huge. Duh".
Speaking of knitting: the official name for the knitting games has been changed. I will now be taking part in The Ravellenic Games. Starting July 17th, I'm going to do as much as I possibly can to get as many things finished by the end of the Olympics. As a result of the name change, the one Team I am on: Team Cluster Cuss needed to have the main team logo updated. I volunteered to brave the waters and bring the subject to the oh-so-creative Other Half. I should have known better than to do so after midnight. I dozed off knowing he might be working on it and was jolted awake at 3 AM with the news that it was worked on and now finished. I was thoroughly impressed because I think that was the fastest he'd ever worked on any piece of art. And it is art.
Wanna see?
Knew it!
Check. It. Out.
A thoroughly cuss-inducing tangle, with a touch of crafty class. So very awesome. The team loves it too. Hoping to see it updated for all kinds of our projects this year.
Oh and Day 4: How did you learn how to knit?
I bartered crochet learnings for knitting learnings from The Best Friend. She'd taught herself through some mystical means (I didn't ask in case it involved piercings with dpns, tattoos in weird places, or needing to burn acrylic or something) and passed that knowledge on to me. My grandmother taught me to crochet. Fair trade. Now I knit socks, and she crochets jellyfish desk companions. We're even.
I can't believe it happened so soon, but I fell off already. I could make excuses, but they're the excuses made by addicts the world around: "It was a hard day", "I need it", "I deserve a treat", "It's just once"
It just sucks that I'm addicted to junk food. I haven't opened the bag, yet (Miss Vickie's Original), but I still feel like I failed. I'm confessing this here to hold myself accountable for my actions, my decisions. It hurts, I feel shame. This is a necessary thing though. I am unhealthy, and slowly killing myself because of it. If I don't do something now, what happens in however many years when I'm diabetic, or suffering heart attacks, or an important diagnosis for cancer gets missed because of my weight. I've been doing really well on portion control, and learning to listen to my appetite to know when I'm hungry versus thirsty versus bored/depressed; as well as learning to listen to "I'm full" (that one has been hard). I am trying to walk more, which has been having moderate success, but I know how I have to kick my butt into real action: take responsibility, hold myself accountable.
I will have to cut off yarn purchases if I can't get this sh** under control.
And not do so much damage to my own self-esteem that I drive myself to open that bag for that horrible instant gratification.
Okay, enough of that.
Moving on to knitting: I finished the gusset and am well into the foot. I will have to check my notes again to confirm foot length. These socks may turn out to be a little bit more on they "easy fit" side, but at least I know there won't be distortion around the heel. I always, always forget how BIG man-feet are until I'm actually getting close to the end of the sock and I have to go "Oh yeah... they're supposed to be that huge. Duh".
Speaking of knitting: the official name for the knitting games has been changed. I will now be taking part in The Ravellenic Games. Starting July 17th, I'm going to do as much as I possibly can to get as many things finished by the end of the Olympics. As a result of the name change, the one Team I am on: Team Cluster Cuss needed to have the main team logo updated. I volunteered to brave the waters and bring the subject to the oh-so-creative Other Half. I should have known better than to do so after midnight. I dozed off knowing he might be working on it and was jolted awake at 3 AM with the news that it was worked on and now finished. I was thoroughly impressed because I think that was the fastest he'd ever worked on any piece of art. And it is art.
Wanna see?
Knew it!
Check. It. Out.
A thoroughly cuss-inducing tangle, with a touch of crafty class. So very awesome. The team loves it too. Hoping to see it updated for all kinds of our projects this year.
Oh and Day 4: How did you learn how to knit?
I bartered crochet learnings for knitting learnings from The Best Friend. She'd taught herself through some mystical means (I didn't ask in case it involved piercings with dpns, tattoos in weird places, or needing to burn acrylic or something) and passed that knowledge on to me. My grandmother taught me to crochet. Fair trade. Now I knit socks, and she crochets jellyfish desk companions. We're even.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Another Day...
... shows it's face... *|continues humming Pomplamoose song|*
Okay tangent for a bit. If you haven't hear them yet, hit YouTube up, and search Pomplamoose.
Wait...
Here. I get you Link. Click this sentence. Fall in love. Listen to it all, and every other upload from them, and feed your ears audible yumminess.
Finished gusset on sock. On to foot. The ball is getting... worryingly small. But then I remember that The Other Half would be pickled tink if I gave him mismatching socks.*
Day 3: Do you have any other WIPs?
... Do I have any other WIPs? Do I have any other WIPs?
Ha.
Ha ha ha.
BWA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
Of course I do! Who do I look like, Miss Perfect?
-Christmas knitting for Dad
-Christmas knitting for Step-mom part 1
-Demon Sweater (insert vile glare in its direction here)
-Yellow Lacy thing
And that's just the knitting side. I still have two crocheted afghans I need to finish.
And later this program we'll talk to a man who does gardening.
Monty Python reference. Don't mind me.
Anywho. Taking time off this weekend for The Other Half. He's requested something special, so I should oblige and knit like I'm going to lose my fingers. Colourwork. Diagonal Stripe. I'm scared.... Not.
Now I need to watch Wayne's World. What is with my brain today? I'm totally thinking like a chick. Urgh.
Calm down, Margaux. You're a broad. Think like one. Act like one. Be the broad. Be the Classy Broad. Centre yourself.
Not gonna happen tonight I can tell.
Moving on again: after this lovely weekend (so looking forward to it) going to put together a SnB for the locals. Sent a shout out notification to a knitter across the river, hoping she's willing to make the slog to come say hi; don't know that we're much of an allure but my gods I was raised to be polite.
Here's hoping this weekend will include some stash enhancement. I'd use the acronym but TOH doesn't know it yet and I'm not keen to create.... what the hell am I talking about, I love creating hilarious misunderstandings.
This weekend will include S.E.X.
Stash Enhancement Expeditions.
*giggle*
Ye gods I must be far gone if I'm giggling at that. Okay need liquids, real food, and more music, stat!
Plus knitting.
Right! I'm off!
*Okay that was a totally unintentional knitting pun contained within my spoonerism there. I am even more amused.
Okay tangent for a bit. If you haven't hear them yet, hit YouTube up, and search Pomplamoose.
Wait...
Here. I get you Link. Click this sentence. Fall in love. Listen to it all, and every other upload from them, and feed your ears audible yumminess.
Finished gusset on sock. On to foot. The ball is getting... worryingly small. But then I remember that The Other Half would be pickled tink if I gave him mismatching socks.*
Day 3: Do you have any other WIPs?
... Do I have any other WIPs? Do I have any other WIPs?
Ha.
Ha ha ha.
BWA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA
Of course I do! Who do I look like, Miss Perfect?
-Christmas knitting for Dad
-Christmas knitting for Step-mom part 1
-Demon Sweater (insert vile glare in its direction here)
-Yellow Lacy thing
And that's just the knitting side. I still have two crocheted afghans I need to finish.
And later this program we'll talk to a man who does gardening.
Monty Python reference. Don't mind me.
Anywho. Taking time off this weekend for The Other Half. He's requested something special, so I should oblige and knit like I'm going to lose my fingers. Colourwork. Diagonal Stripe. I'm scared.... Not.
Now I need to watch Wayne's World. What is with my brain today? I'm totally thinking like a chick. Urgh.
Calm down, Margaux. You're a broad. Think like one. Act like one. Be the broad. Be the Classy Broad. Centre yourself.
Not gonna happen tonight I can tell.
Moving on again: after this lovely weekend (so looking forward to it) going to put together a SnB for the locals. Sent a shout out notification to a knitter across the river, hoping she's willing to make the slog to come say hi; don't know that we're much of an allure but my gods I was raised to be polite.
Here's hoping this weekend will include some stash enhancement. I'd use the acronym but TOH doesn't know it yet and I'm not keen to create.... what the hell am I talking about, I love creating hilarious misunderstandings.
This weekend will include S.E.X.
Stash Enhancement Expeditions.
*giggle*
Ye gods I must be far gone if I'm giggling at that. Okay need liquids, real food, and more music, stat!
Plus knitting.
Right! I'm off!
*Okay that was a totally unintentional knitting pun contained within my spoonerism there. I am even more amused.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Blaaaaargh
I refuse to brain. I caught the dumb. Again... Still? .... no, it's again.
Long day. Had my performance review. Very fair. Got a 3.86 out of 5. Better than last year. Voiced grievances. Set goals. Let my manager know that I'm truly looking elsewhere because I'm sick and tired of not using my degree. Had manager come back and give me suggestions to help me use my degree and promise to look out for other opportunities to do so that may be within the company. Not what I expected, and not entirely in line with my future goals, but just about anything to get me onto a pure Monday to Friday, 9-6 schedule at this point.
Having to start cutting back on luxuries, making real sacrifices to reach other goals. Not yarn. Not yet. First things first: I get to tackle my salt/chip/meaningless carb addiction. Because it is an addiction. The sugars in the carbs give me a rush, make me feel good for a while. I learned a long time ago that food is not a substitute for an emotion. Now I just have to buckle down, again, and put it into practice. Not gonna be pretty. I can do this though. It's for my health.
Just keep saying that, over and over and over again.
Okay, moving on...
30 Days of Knitting Day 2! Fitting that today I actually take a picture...
Day 2: What is currently on your needles?
Long day. Had my performance review. Very fair. Got a 3.86 out of 5. Better than last year. Voiced grievances. Set goals. Let my manager know that I'm truly looking elsewhere because I'm sick and tired of not using my degree. Had manager come back and give me suggestions to help me use my degree and promise to look out for other opportunities to do so that may be within the company. Not what I expected, and not entirely in line with my future goals, but just about anything to get me onto a pure Monday to Friday, 9-6 schedule at this point.
Having to start cutting back on luxuries, making real sacrifices to reach other goals. Not yarn. Not yet. First things first: I get to tackle my salt/chip/meaningless carb addiction. Because it is an addiction. The sugars in the carbs give me a rush, make me feel good for a while. I learned a long time ago that food is not a substitute for an emotion. Now I just have to buckle down, again, and put it into practice. Not gonna be pretty. I can do this though. It's for my health.
Just keep saying that, over and over and over again.
Okay, moving on...
30 Days of Knitting Day 2! Fitting that today I actually take a picture...
Day 2: What is currently on your needles?
This is the only thing I will currently say is "on my needles". There's other stuff, but I'll leave that for tomorrow. The colour balance in this picture is wretched. I would have not used the InstaBlind flash if it was brighter in here, but it's late evening now, and my lamp is woefully underpowered for lighting such a large(ish) space as my living room. The socks for The Other Half that I had a spat with a couple days ago. Heel turned, gusset (re)started and well on its way to completion. Then umpty-tumpty thousand rows of blissful stockinette, and the toe with it's magical Kitchener Stitch after that.
I must be weird. I have to be. The Kitchener Stitch is, for me, like the double underline at the bottoms of a trial balance sheet... or a balance sheet... or an income statement. It is the complete, pure, serene ending to a long series of complicated motions. It says, more purely than anything else could: "This is perfection." Both are beauty incarnate to me. And just like on a Balance Sheet, two columns, two underlines; two socks, two grafts for two toes.
I wonder if that's why I have the two columns of ribbing down each side of the foot... Huh... Accounting Socks. Go figure.
Oh and to any grammar nit pickers out there: I'm not abusing capitalization. I'm putting it out there for special emphasis. So there. Neener neener.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon
Or early evening... or whatever... It's too hot to try to think.
Haven't made progress on the sock. The Other Half threw LA Confidential at me last night and I was too tired to finish it, so I watched it today and ohmigawd so good!
Couldn't knit during that. It's just toooo good. I don't think I could ever see it enough times to have it be just background noise. Not like some movies.
Oh, also caught a documentary: Life in Cold Blood. I am particularly fond of such creatures (with the exception of amphibians, something about slime... I just don't wanna touch it. They all eat bugs though so they're tops in my book). The baby turtles were my favs, as were all the snakes and the crocodilians. My spell checker doesn't like that word, but it can suck it up, the little princess.
Speaking of Princess. She tossed something my way. I'll start it now for the fun of it, but it's supposed to be 30 days of knitting stuff. Don't know how deep and introspective it will be, but here goes:
Day One: What was your first finished project?
Crochet-wise, I can't really remember. There was the so-called square I attempted after Grandma taught me, and then the 5-1/2 hour afghan... I think those were it. I don't remember anything in between there.
Knitting... um... crud I really don't remember... hang on...
Wow... this is really sad. Let me check with The Best Friend.
TBF only remembers the Demon Sweater. But it's not finished. I don't think I did anything before that.
So that means the first knitted project I actually completed and cast off was a pair of socks. At least, that I can remember. There might have been something... no TBF taught me to cast off on the back of the sweater when I'd finished it.
Well, as she puts it: Go big or go home.
So there you have it, day one, first finished projects, and proof that my memory for some things is really bad. Mostly because I like what has to happen before the item is finished, but once it's finished, it's nothing to me. I don't care about it, it has to go to someone that will love it to bits. So far the only exception has been the socks I knit for myself, but that was yarn picked out specially for me, just so I could have a pair of socks.
Plus probably the one shawl I've been coveting ever since I saw the pattern.
**Edit**
So today's major stupid moment occurred during a match in World of Tanks. The Other Half and I were doing very well in a match. Had taken out a couple tanks, and a tank destroyer, when TOH gets stuck into a bad position by an IS-7 (Russian tank). I'm rolling up to help, wondering if I can remember what that red number under my targeting reticule means.
TOH: "This isn't good, I don't have a shot."
Me: "I have one. I'll get him. Coming to save you"
*blam*
Game: "Penetration." (Hitpoints on enemy tank don't go down, so I only injured the tank crew)
Me: "Uh... Uh oh."
TOH: "What? He's turning on me."
Me: "Um... I'm apparently out of ammo."
TOH: "What? How can you be out of ammo?"
*someone else kills the IS-7*
Me: "Er... I apparently forgot to resupply after the last battle. Um... oops?"
TOH: *laughing*
So yeah... Never hearing the end of that, not for a good long while. I'll have to be sending screenshots for proof of ammo from now on.
Haven't made progress on the sock. The Other Half threw LA Confidential at me last night and I was too tired to finish it, so I watched it today and ohmigawd so good!
Couldn't knit during that. It's just toooo good. I don't think I could ever see it enough times to have it be just background noise. Not like some movies.
Oh, also caught a documentary: Life in Cold Blood. I am particularly fond of such creatures (with the exception of amphibians, something about slime... I just don't wanna touch it. They all eat bugs though so they're tops in my book). The baby turtles were my favs, as were all the snakes and the crocodilians. My spell checker doesn't like that word, but it can suck it up, the little princess.
Speaking of Princess. She tossed something my way. I'll start it now for the fun of it, but it's supposed to be 30 days of knitting stuff. Don't know how deep and introspective it will be, but here goes:
Day One: What was your first finished project?
Crochet-wise, I can't really remember. There was the so-called square I attempted after Grandma taught me, and then the 5-1/2 hour afghan... I think those were it. I don't remember anything in between there.
Knitting... um... crud I really don't remember... hang on...
Wow... this is really sad. Let me check with The Best Friend.
TBF only remembers the Demon Sweater. But it's not finished. I don't think I did anything before that.
So that means the first knitted project I actually completed and cast off was a pair of socks. At least, that I can remember. There might have been something... no TBF taught me to cast off on the back of the sweater when I'd finished it.
Well, as she puts it: Go big or go home.
So there you have it, day one, first finished projects, and proof that my memory for some things is really bad. Mostly because I like what has to happen before the item is finished, but once it's finished, it's nothing to me. I don't care about it, it has to go to someone that will love it to bits. So far the only exception has been the socks I knit for myself, but that was yarn picked out specially for me, just so I could have a pair of socks.
Plus probably the one shawl I've been coveting ever since I saw the pattern.
**Edit**
So today's major stupid moment occurred during a match in World of Tanks. The Other Half and I were doing very well in a match. Had taken out a couple tanks, and a tank destroyer, when TOH gets stuck into a bad position by an IS-7 (Russian tank). I'm rolling up to help, wondering if I can remember what that red number under my targeting reticule means.
TOH: "This isn't good, I don't have a shot."
Me: "I have one. I'll get him. Coming to save you"
*blam*
Game: "Penetration." (Hitpoints on enemy tank don't go down, so I only injured the tank crew)
Me: "Uh... Uh oh."
TOH: "What? He's turning on me."
Me: "Um... I'm apparently out of ammo."
TOH: "What? How can you be out of ammo?"
*someone else kills the IS-7*
Me: "Er... I apparently forgot to resupply after the last battle. Um... oops?"
TOH: *laughing*
So yeah... Never hearing the end of that, not for a good long while. I'll have to be sending screenshots for proof of ammo from now on.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Musings
I have an incredible imagination. It's almost to the point of being... what the hell's the word.... immersive? I get sucked in so completely it's incredible. I've caught myself gesticulating and mumbling conversations to myself as I walk because I let my mind wander into my own little world. I really get into it sometimes. Just lose myself to the wild blue yonder, and the joys of (Max Schreck wears spats? holy crap) the fantasy in my head.
Yeah kinda watching Batman Forever. Which is where this all started.
Believe me, if I was into such a thing, I could write some wicked fan faction. But I'm not. I like it all in my head where I can play with it as much and as often as I could like; and I don't have to freak out the squares.
The Red Triangle Gang needs something like the Guild of Fools, too much of their make-up looks the same.
Continuing on. I was just thinking that it must be really hard to love a superhero. Keeping a huge secret from all kinds of people. Watching your back all the time. Knowing you're an Achilles Heel, the whole time. Having to send that person out, night after night, into the dark unknown. Yes they have the ability to protect themselves, but there's always a risk. Even when you're Superman. It's gotta be just like loving a soldier, or a police officer.
Yeah kinda watching Batman Forever. Which is where this all started.
Believe me, if I was into such a thing, I could write some wicked fan faction. But I'm not. I like it all in my head where I can play with it as much and as often as I could like; and I don't have to freak out the squares.
The Red Triangle Gang needs something like the Guild of Fools, too much of their make-up looks the same.
Continuing on. I was just thinking that it must be really hard to love a superhero. Keeping a huge secret from all kinds of people. Watching your back all the time. Knowing you're an Achilles Heel, the whole time. Having to send that person out, night after night, into the dark unknown. Yes they have the ability to protect themselves, but there's always a risk. Even when you're Superman. It's gotta be just like loving a soldier, or a police officer.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Love That "Next Morning" Feeling
I wrote yesterday about how I was upset at the wording used in a Cease and Desist letter from the USOC to Ravelry. I was upset. The tone didn't sit right with me. I posted a link to an NPR article about the letter and subsequent apology. I wasn't mad. I was... how did I put it to The Best Friend... I was "Canadian Mad". I too wanted to raise my voice in letter form and let the USOC know that I was offended by the tone. The Other Half checked the US Copyright Laws, and looked over the laws governing the use of "Olympic" and derivations thereof, which did help, because now I understand it better (something about the way he explains things gets my brain thinking on the right track). Then I slept on it, and this morning I thought a little more.
I understand the need to defend the term. If you don't do it every time, you won't be able to when it really counts. I understand the letter wasn't supposed to be personal; it's not an attack, it's really from one organization to another. I shouldn't take it personally, because it didn't have my name on it. I don't like the language, I think it could be worded better, but I can accept that there were other circumstances the committee has come across where that language may have been necessary; as such it became their standard use (I found other examples of the same letter, with the same language).
At the same time, I have to remember my Dad. Dad was a runner for a long time, and a track coach for people who were aiming to go to the Olympics. I remember his road trips to competitions, I remember the coaching his runners went through. I remember him telling me that two of his friends, excellent athletes both, had trained their bodies to an extent where they weren't able to have the kids they wanted when they got married (apparently when you train really REALLY hard, some female biological functions get deemed useless wastes of bodily resources and they just stop functioning). For some people that's really important to them, and their plans for the future, how could it be if two of your greatest dreams cannot be had at the same time; how would that feel?
I'm not an athlete by any means. And I do feel that athletes, those who truly play for the love of their game and the sport, those who are willing to push their bodies to the limit, while staying within the rules, those athletes deserve my respect and support. I have no love for anyone that cheats, whatever the means.
I also took the time to read The Harlot this morning, too, and I agree. I'm glad I slept and thought. I understand why the letter came. I don't like the language but I know what they're trying to do, and who they're doing it for, and the reasons why. I'm not mad any more, still a little bruised, but I'll live. I can do something many of those athletes probably can't, and I'll do it well and for the rest of my life. They have a few years to shine, to be their absolute best, and I wish them all the luck I can, and hope, at the end of it all, that they're as proud of their accomplishments as I am of mine.
Really though... it'd be nice to knit like a sprinter... 100m in under 10 seconds? Could you imagine? They'd need a fire extinguisher to cool down the needles and put out any residual fires.
Oh and this post was written in two stints because I wanted to be sure I got everything down. There may be a supplemental post later, with pictures!
I know. You can hardly contain yourselves.
I understand the need to defend the term. If you don't do it every time, you won't be able to when it really counts. I understand the letter wasn't supposed to be personal; it's not an attack, it's really from one organization to another. I shouldn't take it personally, because it didn't have my name on it. I don't like the language, I think it could be worded better, but I can accept that there were other circumstances the committee has come across where that language may have been necessary; as such it became their standard use (I found other examples of the same letter, with the same language).
At the same time, I have to remember my Dad. Dad was a runner for a long time, and a track coach for people who were aiming to go to the Olympics. I remember his road trips to competitions, I remember the coaching his runners went through. I remember him telling me that two of his friends, excellent athletes both, had trained their bodies to an extent where they weren't able to have the kids they wanted when they got married (apparently when you train really REALLY hard, some female biological functions get deemed useless wastes of bodily resources and they just stop functioning). For some people that's really important to them, and their plans for the future, how could it be if two of your greatest dreams cannot be had at the same time; how would that feel?
I'm not an athlete by any means. And I do feel that athletes, those who truly play for the love of their game and the sport, those who are willing to push their bodies to the limit, while staying within the rules, those athletes deserve my respect and support. I have no love for anyone that cheats, whatever the means.
I also took the time to read The Harlot this morning, too, and I agree. I'm glad I slept and thought. I understand why the letter came. I don't like the language but I know what they're trying to do, and who they're doing it for, and the reasons why. I'm not mad any more, still a little bruised, but I'll live. I can do something many of those athletes probably can't, and I'll do it well and for the rest of my life. They have a few years to shine, to be their absolute best, and I wish them all the luck I can, and hope, at the end of it all, that they're as proud of their accomplishments as I am of mine.
Really though... it'd be nice to knit like a sprinter... 100m in under 10 seconds? Could you imagine? They'd need a fire extinguisher to cool down the needles and put out any residual fires.
Oh and this post was written in two stints because I wanted to be sure I got everything down. There may be a supplemental post later, with pictures!
I know. You can hardly contain yourselves.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Aftermath
Sock and I have had a nice long rational discussion. I know that it was my own fault for the gusset being so wonky and jacked up, and I am fully comfortable admitting that. The sock now know that being a smug little so-and-so about the whole thing will not win it any friends. I am not above ripping mercilessly. We're enjoying some nice comfortable back and forth (I have to re-turn the heel so it's knit one row, turn and purl back) while we rebuild our trust and friendship.
Thank you all for your understanding in this difficult time.
I say that only because I appear to have gone a little wonky in this heat, as I'm now imagining my knitting project and I have some deeper relationship, and then fights in said relationship.
**EDIT**
I'm also now rather incredibly miffed at what I just found out from browsing my forums on Ravelry. The Olympic Committee has decided that hard learned fibre arts "denigrate" the spirit of the Olympic games (can I even use that word anymore?). I worked hard to get where I am. I don't do sports, much to my parents chagrin, but dammitall I learned. And I'm not even one of the impressive ones! There will be links once I can collect them all, but jeez. Denigrate. And then the apology has the blind nerve to say that it was a "standard-form cease and desist" letter.
I'm fuming.
The Original Letter (may need a Ravelry account)
The Official Apology
One Spot in the News
The NPR Spot
Thank you all for your understanding in this difficult time.
I say that only because I appear to have gone a little wonky in this heat, as I'm now imagining my knitting project and I have some deeper relationship, and then fights in said relationship.
**EDIT**
I'm also now rather incredibly miffed at what I just found out from browsing my forums on Ravelry. The Olympic Committee has decided that hard learned fibre arts "denigrate" the spirit of the Olympic games (can I even use that word anymore?). I worked hard to get where I am. I don't do sports, much to my parents chagrin, but dammitall I learned. And I'm not even one of the impressive ones! There will be links once I can collect them all, but jeez. Denigrate. And then the apology has the blind nerve to say that it was a "standard-form cease and desist" letter.
I'm fuming.
The Original Letter (may need a Ravelry account)
The Official Apology
One Spot in the News
The NPR Spot
After Everything I Did For You...
You ungrateful, mean, HURTFUL pair of socks! Lying to me like that, telling me I was done my gusset. You jerk. You made me rip out all, all the work I'd done on the WWKIP day, and go back to turn the heel! How could you do this to me, after everything we shared. I'm hurt. I feel betrayed. I don't understand what happened, if it was me. Did I do something wrong? Things were going so smoothly, and then this....
Look, whatever it was, I'm sorry. I expect an apology from you as well, for your inexcusable reaction. You could have brought it to my attention sooner; you could have been a lot nicer. We'll work through this though, just a few yards of already knit yarn and then we can move on to a glorious future and perfect toe shaping.
I'm glad we had this talk.
Look, whatever it was, I'm sorry. I expect an apology from you as well, for your inexcusable reaction. You could have brought it to my attention sooner; you could have been a lot nicer. We'll work through this though, just a few yards of already knit yarn and then we can move on to a glorious future and perfect toe shaping.
I'm glad we had this talk.
Curse you, Heat!
I mean temperature, not some team of some sort (I think there's one out there).
Weird moment today: random stranger on the street commenting to me about the heat. Think he was just being polite. Paranoid as all f*** that he was hitting on me. That may just be because I felt good looking today. Got a new shirt last night, and it met with rave reviews from The Other Half... well as rave as they could be for a fairly conservative work shirt.
He pointed out that this clothing procurement outing resulted in a lot of black. It did. I'm not liking my shape right now... no that's not entirely true... I'm not liking my health level, and the extra bits I'm carrying in front. I don't wanna lose the thighs or the hips or the epic junk in my trunk, but the back and tummy areas need a little smartening up. (The rack is impenetrable. It is eternal and everlasting... boy I hope Dad's stopped checking in on me here, that'd be embarrassing).
I'm not going to focus on it though... It's like... yeah it's like an S.E.P. field. I have to catch it off guard, but make small, yet significant changes. Drink water more. Eat a healthy breakfast. Have a small lunch that isn't fried. Have small snacks in between if needed. The big hurdle: dinner. That one's gonna mess with me... breakfast and lunch first. Listening to my body's needs.
Been training still at work, so there's no brain power to knit. Having to cram two years worth of knowledge into a head within 5 days is a major feat. Here's hoping I'm up to the challenge as usual.
I know I should have gotten off here sooner, or stopped puttering around the apartment sooner, and fixed the legs... but they're a sacrifice I'm just going to have to make (thanks, Mom, for those of your genetics... le sigh). Priority for tomorrow: more laundry, legs.
Also to do for tomorrow: teach the other girl at work how to knit. Plus do more socks. I had such a good plan coming up to this summer, and I'm already feeling the pressure of Christmas Knitting.
Hey, Princess, when we do get together for our next knitting thing, as much as the CE was great, can we hit a place with air conditioning? I'll spring for frozen yog's or something. There's a booster jui-.... my gods... there's a Booster Juice at the Mall. And I got a Teen Burger.... Granted I hadn't had a Teen Burger (or rings) in years. Literally. But damn, I missed out on a drinkable meal.
Yeah, that's me, unlimited powers of focus. Wah wah wah wah wah wah wah...
Sound effects don't work in a blog so well. Spell check hates them. Burning passion, fiery suns, all that jazz.
Shared good music today, and that felt nice. Worried I'm being uber-pushy (looks at Princess for confirmation or denial). I tend not to play well with others, but when I do find someone I can play well with, I get a little exuberant.
Want to have a girls night.... Not making any plans until after I see TOH again. I don't know if it's childish or sad, or just plain weird, but I like sleepovers. They're tons of fun for me, and, being a natural night owl, conducive to my own state of being. Even if I can't spell properly sometimes (you won't find it, I fixed it). Wanna have the Broads over, K and N, and see if we can get Princess in the mix, and throw on all kinds of crazy movies, and just stay up and knit and giggle and.... have fun, fun like one had at 13, and we were supposed to stop having for no apparent reason.
Has to be planned carefully. I don't like upsetting my routine, puts me out of sorts and turns me into a psycho hose beast (guess which movie I can play through my head in its entirety just from hearing that one particular song). Never something I want to turn in to, nor turn on for TOH to deal with. Not fair, don't like it. It's outmoded, outdated, and uncool. And it is my routine. I am quite prone to ruts. It's terrible. Plus jumping to conclusions. I swear I hold the world record. Could go to the Olympics if I wanted to.
Anywho, something I'm thinking about. Probably have to pull the idea off here and bandy it about in true interpersonal communication.
Oh note to self: switch shampoo and conditioner. You are getting totally sick of the leftover residue of this brand, stop thinking you should just use it up now when you have a fresh bottle of better for you stuff waiting. These bottles can go back under the sink for those "emergencies"... Emergency Shampoo... I'll just file that under it's own special brand of "odd".
Say g'night, Gracie!
*There, fixed my profile too. I was in the mood for lips. Thought process works like this: TOH is gaming, what are some of the games we have enjoyed together? WOT, WOW, SW:ToR, STO, DCUO, BBO..... I miss BBO. He'd done such a nice crest for my ship. It had this lovely pair of lips... Do I have a profile pic? No. I want the Lips! I just talked about a sleepover, and the last one I had had RHPS... LET THERE BE LIPS!
Definitely bedtime at this point.
Weird moment today: random stranger on the street commenting to me about the heat. Think he was just being polite. Paranoid as all f*** that he was hitting on me. That may just be because I felt good looking today. Got a new shirt last night, and it met with rave reviews from The Other Half... well as rave as they could be for a fairly conservative work shirt.
He pointed out that this clothing procurement outing resulted in a lot of black. It did. I'm not liking my shape right now... no that's not entirely true... I'm not liking my health level, and the extra bits I'm carrying in front. I don't wanna lose the thighs or the hips or the epic junk in my trunk, but the back and tummy areas need a little smartening up. (The rack is impenetrable. It is eternal and everlasting... boy I hope Dad's stopped checking in on me here, that'd be embarrassing).
I'm not going to focus on it though... It's like... yeah it's like an S.E.P. field. I have to catch it off guard, but make small, yet significant changes. Drink water more. Eat a healthy breakfast. Have a small lunch that isn't fried. Have small snacks in between if needed. The big hurdle: dinner. That one's gonna mess with me... breakfast and lunch first. Listening to my body's needs.
Been training still at work, so there's no brain power to knit. Having to cram two years worth of knowledge into a head within 5 days is a major feat. Here's hoping I'm up to the challenge as usual.
I know I should have gotten off here sooner, or stopped puttering around the apartment sooner, and fixed the legs... but they're a sacrifice I'm just going to have to make (thanks, Mom, for those of your genetics... le sigh). Priority for tomorrow: more laundry, legs.
Also to do for tomorrow: teach the other girl at work how to knit. Plus do more socks. I had such a good plan coming up to this summer, and I'm already feeling the pressure of Christmas Knitting.
Hey, Princess, when we do get together for our next knitting thing, as much as the CE was great, can we hit a place with air conditioning? I'll spring for frozen yog's or something. There's a booster jui-.... my gods... there's a Booster Juice at the Mall. And I got a Teen Burger.... Granted I hadn't had a Teen Burger (or rings) in years. Literally. But damn, I missed out on a drinkable meal.
Yeah, that's me, unlimited powers of focus. Wah wah wah wah wah wah wah...
Sound effects don't work in a blog so well. Spell check hates them. Burning passion, fiery suns, all that jazz.
Shared good music today, and that felt nice. Worried I'm being uber-pushy (looks at Princess for confirmation or denial). I tend not to play well with others, but when I do find someone I can play well with, I get a little exuberant.
Want to have a girls night.... Not making any plans until after I see TOH again. I don't know if it's childish or sad, or just plain weird, but I like sleepovers. They're tons of fun for me, and, being a natural night owl, conducive to my own state of being. Even if I can't spell properly sometimes (you won't find it, I fixed it). Wanna have the Broads over, K and N, and see if we can get Princess in the mix, and throw on all kinds of crazy movies, and just stay up and knit and giggle and.... have fun, fun like one had at 13, and we were supposed to stop having for no apparent reason.
Has to be planned carefully. I don't like upsetting my routine, puts me out of sorts and turns me into a psycho hose beast (guess which movie I can play through my head in its entirety just from hearing that one particular song). Never something I want to turn in to, nor turn on for TOH to deal with. Not fair, don't like it. It's outmoded, outdated, and uncool. And it is my routine. I am quite prone to ruts. It's terrible. Plus jumping to conclusions. I swear I hold the world record. Could go to the Olympics if I wanted to.
Anywho, something I'm thinking about. Probably have to pull the idea off here and bandy it about in true interpersonal communication.
Oh note to self: switch shampoo and conditioner. You are getting totally sick of the leftover residue of this brand, stop thinking you should just use it up now when you have a fresh bottle of better for you stuff waiting. These bottles can go back under the sink for those "emergencies"... Emergency Shampoo... I'll just file that under it's own special brand of "odd".
Say g'night, Gracie!
*There, fixed my profile too. I was in the mood for lips. Thought process works like this: TOH is gaming, what are some of the games we have enjoyed together? WOT, WOW, SW:ToR, STO, DCUO, BBO..... I miss BBO. He'd done such a nice crest for my ship. It had this lovely pair of lips... Do I have a profile pic? No. I want the Lips! I just talked about a sleepover, and the last one I had had RHPS... LET THERE BE LIPS!
Definitely bedtime at this point.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
So This is What an Ice Cube on a Stove Feels Like...
Holy hell, I'm melting. Melting like there's no tomorrow. Melting like a snowman that suddenly appeared in Southern California. I am goo. I am mush. Lo, I am one with the yoghurts.
Seriously hot. I can't brain. Caught the dumb.
Did a little knitting at work. Hoping to teach one of the girls there how to rock the pointy sticks. Been training new peeps, seems to be going okay; bit of a slow start, but she'll be right.
Lordy, I'm overheating to the point of using someone else's slang.
You guys are lucky spelling and grammar are a thing with me, or this would look like an absolute mess.
I also found a movie I'd been looking for... for about 30 seconds after I remembered how much I enjoyed watching it. I'm going to go relive my first crush/idolization.
*enamoured girlie sigh of a 12 year old* Donatello....
Yeah. It was a Ninja Turtle. You wanna make something of my geekyness? I know how to work a jersey so you better watch it. I can go Canadian Hockey Fan with the best of them.
Smart, geeky guys are best. For me anyways.
*Footnote: the dang spell check in here didn't like my dairy product in the first sentence. I was shocked that one of its suggestions for a correction was "Hogwarts". Really? People can't spell Hogwarts? How blitzed out do you have to be to write yoghurts instead of Hogwarts? How mental is this spell check? Why am I asking so many rhetorical questions?
Seriously hot. I can't brain. Caught the dumb.
Did a little knitting at work. Hoping to teach one of the girls there how to rock the pointy sticks. Been training new peeps, seems to be going okay; bit of a slow start, but she'll be right.
Lordy, I'm overheating to the point of using someone else's slang.
You guys are lucky spelling and grammar are a thing with me, or this would look like an absolute mess.
I also found a movie I'd been looking for... for about 30 seconds after I remembered how much I enjoyed watching it. I'm going to go relive my first crush/idolization.
*enamoured girlie sigh of a 12 year old* Donatello....
Yeah. It was a Ninja Turtle. You wanna make something of my geekyness? I know how to work a jersey so you better watch it. I can go Canadian Hockey Fan with the best of them.
Smart, geeky guys are best. For me anyways.
*Footnote: the dang spell check in here didn't like my dairy product in the first sentence. I was shocked that one of its suggestions for a correction was "Hogwarts". Really? People can't spell Hogwarts? How blitzed out do you have to be to write yoghurts instead of Hogwarts? How mental is this spell check? Why am I asking so many rhetorical questions?
Monday, June 18, 2012
Rumours of My Disappearance
... were greatly exaggerated. By me, in fact, though quite unexpectedly.
The story goes that I hopped a bus to attempt to acquire a new modem, to use in the interim, until the replacement one arrived from my ISP. Unfortunately, I'm either blind or a ditz.... possibly both, and I could not find the Big Box Store that had the modem for a reasonable price (as found by The Other Half). Instead I wandered into the mall in search of some a possible entrance to the Big Box Store, as well as to acquire some form of portable sustenance.
Did not find the BBS... did find A&W. Teen Burger combo with rings. Savour the flavours and the childhood memories that flow with them. Life is good.
Wandered around the mall in an attempt to find another electronics store, which I did, easily enough and asked after cordless phones, because I'm so sick of being leashed to a headset at this point, I'm starting to consider scissors. The nice man behind the counter provided me with two options for cheapy single handsets: one white, one black. I picked the black because I like it more. He goes into the back and checks the stock... no black, he says, they have the white, but there's other options here: and he points out a different black one and... gods have mercy... a red one. My red. Good Gods was I tempted. But it was a question of budgets. I could afford the cheapy one, the red one would have been a bit of a stretch... but it's just so pretty...
Sneaky man units, reading me like a freakin book and tempting me, tempting me sorely, to spend more money.
If I can't stop thinking about it... I'm going back tomorrow and getting the damn red phone.
Where was I?
Oh yes! So I get the cordless thing, and head out of the mall, disappointed that I couldn't get the modem, but trying to cheer myself with the phone, and knowing that, if worse came to worse, I could at least have a nice phone call with The Other Half and fall asleep on the handset. I was pretty bummed out by the time I got back to the apartment, and trudged up my steps only to find... a delivery notice.
Now I'd checked the Ebay package at work earlier. The Noro hadn't left Texas so I was a little confused as to what this could be. Hope rising I wandered downstairs (the nice delivery person had left it with my building manager for me) and, powers be praised!, it was my replacement modem from my ISP. They said 3-5 business days when they put the order in on Sunday, but boy howdy they got 'er done!
I skip upstairs, gleefully happy, looking forward to surprising TOH with my online presence. Get it carefully unpacked (oooh! shiny! new model! yum!) and hooked up, waiting for sync, when the phone rings. I explain the story to TOH and he does what I knew he'd do: admonish me, chide me, scold me like a naughty child for not getting the red phone. He's very happy I have the modem and wants to know why I'm not online. I explain about needing to set things up; he, of course, understands.
Setup takes about what one would expect, and then, per the instruction manual, I attempt to browse.
It fails.
I try again.
It fails again.
Run tests, perform troubleshooting.
Failure.
Either DNS fails, or connectivity fails, or it goes to local only.
I disable the wireless.
Browsing is sssssllllllloooooooooooooooooowwwww.
I call again.
The nice tech support guy checks everything out, finds out that my speed was dropped, kicks it back up again. I run a speed test, it's still a little low, let the agent know, and he kicks it up a notch again. Very polite, very efficient, apparently new. Good kid. Speed test is rocking where it should be, up around 6 on the download. Wireless connects just fine, browses smooth.
After a quick tweak of my wireless settings (because the defaults make me a sad webpanda), I'm back in business, and browsing just fine.
If only a sweater would go so smoothly...
**Edited**
And for those who may be so inclined to notice: This post is the answer to Life, The Universe, and Everything. Happy 42 everyone!
The story goes that I hopped a bus to attempt to acquire a new modem, to use in the interim, until the replacement one arrived from my ISP. Unfortunately, I'm either blind or a ditz.... possibly both, and I could not find the Big Box Store that had the modem for a reasonable price (as found by The Other Half). Instead I wandered into the mall in search of some a possible entrance to the Big Box Store, as well as to acquire some form of portable sustenance.
Did not find the BBS... did find A&W. Teen Burger combo with rings. Savour the flavours and the childhood memories that flow with them. Life is good.
Wandered around the mall in an attempt to find another electronics store, which I did, easily enough and asked after cordless phones, because I'm so sick of being leashed to a headset at this point, I'm starting to consider scissors. The nice man behind the counter provided me with two options for cheapy single handsets: one white, one black. I picked the black because I like it more. He goes into the back and checks the stock... no black, he says, they have the white, but there's other options here: and he points out a different black one and... gods have mercy... a red one. My red. Good Gods was I tempted. But it was a question of budgets. I could afford the cheapy one, the red one would have been a bit of a stretch... but it's just so pretty...
Sneaky man units, reading me like a freakin book and tempting me, tempting me sorely, to spend more money.
If I can't stop thinking about it... I'm going back tomorrow and getting the damn red phone.
Where was I?
Oh yes! So I get the cordless thing, and head out of the mall, disappointed that I couldn't get the modem, but trying to cheer myself with the phone, and knowing that, if worse came to worse, I could at least have a nice phone call with The Other Half and fall asleep on the handset. I was pretty bummed out by the time I got back to the apartment, and trudged up my steps only to find... a delivery notice.
Now I'd checked the Ebay package at work earlier. The Noro hadn't left Texas so I was a little confused as to what this could be. Hope rising I wandered downstairs (the nice delivery person had left it with my building manager for me) and, powers be praised!, it was my replacement modem from my ISP. They said 3-5 business days when they put the order in on Sunday, but boy howdy they got 'er done!
I skip upstairs, gleefully happy, looking forward to surprising TOH with my online presence. Get it carefully unpacked (oooh! shiny! new model! yum!) and hooked up, waiting for sync, when the phone rings. I explain the story to TOH and he does what I knew he'd do: admonish me, chide me, scold me like a naughty child for not getting the red phone. He's very happy I have the modem and wants to know why I'm not online. I explain about needing to set things up; he, of course, understands.
Setup takes about what one would expect, and then, per the instruction manual, I attempt to browse.
It fails.
I try again.
It fails again.
Run tests, perform troubleshooting.
Failure.
Either DNS fails, or connectivity fails, or it goes to local only.
I disable the wireless.
Browsing is sssssllllllloooooooooooooooooowwwww.
I call again.
The nice tech support guy checks everything out, finds out that my speed was dropped, kicks it back up again. I run a speed test, it's still a little low, let the agent know, and he kicks it up a notch again. Very polite, very efficient, apparently new. Good kid. Speed test is rocking where it should be, up around 6 on the download. Wireless connects just fine, browses smooth.
After a quick tweak of my wireless settings (because the defaults make me a sad webpanda), I'm back in business, and browsing just fine.
If only a sweater would go so smoothly...
**Edited**
And for those who may be so inclined to notice: This post is the answer to Life, The Universe, and Everything. Happy 42 everyone!
Absenteeism
My modem's dead. My ISP has put in an order to ship me a new one; should be here later this week. Posting will be sparse, if not nonexistent for a while.
Don't miss me too much!
Don't miss me too much!
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Start Early...
I can't quite bring myself to go to sleep. It's wretchedly hot in the apartment and I want to... I don't know... off myself? run away to the wilds of northern Canada? climb inside a tub full of ice, and love the fact that I still have both my kidneys?
Maybe I should find a way to get into my fridge. I don't know what it is about this fridge, but it is freaking cold. I've found ice crystals in milk and sodas left in there. I've found leftovers near frozen solid. I've left things in there to defrost for twenty-four hours only to find them still mostly hard. Yet, oddly enough, it doesn't really do anything bad to the fruits or veggies I store in there. One would expect a lot of wilting or something, but no.
I mention this fridge because I just went and fetched myself an iced tea, which brings me to my next point: I may have... er... what's the best word here... inheritied? acquired? picked up? hmm... Let's just say The Other Half is truly rubbing off on me. TOH loves iced tea. Loves it. Especially Lipton Blue Label iced tea. It's iced tea, get this, without lemon in it. I know. Completely foreign to us Canadians. Here's the thing though... it tastes better than any other iced tea I've ever had, ever. It's the lack of lemon. It tastes like TEA. I know. What a flipping concept. Iced tea... that tastes like tea... and not dishsoap, bathroom cleaner, or artificial lemon. And... I have to confess this. It may get me tarred and feathered, but I'm coming clean. I love it, too. I love tea, that tastes like tea. The complex integrated flavours of leaves, and in some rare cases, other herbs and spices, that have been grown in the sun, in soil, and dried in the sun, and brewed with hot water, and sweetened, ever so slightly, with honey, or sugar. But for some.... unfathomable reason (to me at least) there is nowhere, in Canada, that one can acquire an iced tea without lemon in it, or any other fruit for that matter, in a retail store situation.
At least, that's what I thought for the longest time.
Enter the Arizona company's Black and White Iced Tea. A magnificent blend of both black and white teas.... without any hint of lemon anywhere near it at all. I found this miracle in the corner store at my apartment, and anyone familiar with the Arizona brand will know how beautifully, how reasonably their beverages are priced. It's no Lipton Blue Label, but by all the gods in heaven I hold dear, I will drink this stuff with a love and relish I have not felt towards any form of liquid sustenance, ever. This even surpasses my breif love affair I had with the Booster Juice Matcha Green Tea Smoothie that was my pick-me-up breakfast before work for so many, many weekends in Ottawa.
Want to know how I realized how much I love this iced tea?
I found out how many cans I have waiting to go out to recycling... I'm not telling, but TOH will understand if I say that I have a pile beginning that rivals his own one-week consumption levels of Blue Label.
Mine's cheaper though.
Weird thoughts at 12:13 in the morning. I definitely want to get this all down while I'm thinking about it though.
Worried about The Other Half. He disappeared a little while ago, kind of in the middle of some "enjoying each other's company" time, because his eye was bugging him. I hope no serious damage has been done. I also hope it's not pinkeye or something like that. We had been sharing movies and laughing.*
Elaine: "We had one of those relationships where we'd laugh and laugh. All the time! Do you know what it's like to laugh like that?"
Judge: "Yes. Yes, I do"
Quote from Airplane, one of our favourite movies. Yeah, yeah, insert "d'aww" track here. We'd just finished watching one of Billy Connoley's stage shows. I couldn't breathe for laughing, about choked it was so funny. I'm telling one of the jokes to Dad later today, for Father's Day.
It feels kind of... odd? alien? to remember Father's Day. Much of my childhood was spent not making that big a deal out of it, or Mother's Day, for that matter, whenever they rolled around. My parents apparently had differing opinions about whether or not they should be observed. Since growing up a little (lot?) more, I've come to the realization that the observance does serve a purpose, but, like any so-called "Hallmark" holiday, they must have a spirit of observance throughout the year. Difficult for me, who is learning to rebuild her relationships with her parents; to change them into a long-lasting one of mutual respect, if not understanding, in some form or another. I do my utmost best to let my parents know, whenever I talk to them, that I appreciate that they didn't let me die before I was out on my own; I appreciate all the things they taught me, both those they meant me to learn, those they hoped I would learn from them and not from my own mistakes, and those they hoped I wouldn't notice and learn from them at all.
Every year that passes, and I look more at myself, I see the parts of me shaped by my parents, and my grandparents (for parents they are, if a generation removed). I think I look a lot like my maternal grandmother, more than any other relative. I know I got my independent streak from my Mother. Both parents contributed to my stubborn refusal to ask for help unless I'm halfway down the chute to the grinder. But one thing I love most about my personality, that I'm truly proud of, all the time, I know I can attribute that to Dad. My sense of humour. Dry, horrible, gut-wrenching, clever, cunning puns and wordplay. It was the vaudeville, Dad. And your own, dear Father, my Papa John. It was all the Monty Python, all the Marx Brothers, and your own brothers, too. All the jokes I make, the contests of wit and wills that have lasted hours (hours!) as I weild this funny bone of mine like a linguistic mace.
So, from me to you, Dad, said here first, and to be uttered to you directly later today... you know, when there's sunlight and I can call you and stuff, but still said:
I love you. Happy Father's Day, and thank you for being my Dad. Even though you may be the living dead.**
*He came back. Eye is better. Now if only his latency would go away so I can stop hearing that "My god I hate you" exasperated sigh. Says something about my own internal demons that any sigh of that tone, no matter who issues it, makes me think that I've done something horribly, horribly wrong, and that I must apologize and make amends IMMEDIATELY or face further, far more dire, consequences.
**No, really. I do love you. Nevermind what I said when I was, what.... four? five? You're hardly showing any signs of decay at all!
Maybe I should find a way to get into my fridge. I don't know what it is about this fridge, but it is freaking cold. I've found ice crystals in milk and sodas left in there. I've found leftovers near frozen solid. I've left things in there to defrost for twenty-four hours only to find them still mostly hard. Yet, oddly enough, it doesn't really do anything bad to the fruits or veggies I store in there. One would expect a lot of wilting or something, but no.
I mention this fridge because I just went and fetched myself an iced tea, which brings me to my next point: I may have... er... what's the best word here... inheritied? acquired? picked up? hmm... Let's just say The Other Half is truly rubbing off on me. TOH loves iced tea. Loves it. Especially Lipton Blue Label iced tea. It's iced tea, get this, without lemon in it. I know. Completely foreign to us Canadians. Here's the thing though... it tastes better than any other iced tea I've ever had, ever. It's the lack of lemon. It tastes like TEA. I know. What a flipping concept. Iced tea... that tastes like tea... and not dishsoap, bathroom cleaner, or artificial lemon. And... I have to confess this. It may get me tarred and feathered, but I'm coming clean. I love it, too. I love tea, that tastes like tea. The complex integrated flavours of leaves, and in some rare cases, other herbs and spices, that have been grown in the sun, in soil, and dried in the sun, and brewed with hot water, and sweetened, ever so slightly, with honey, or sugar. But for some.... unfathomable reason (to me at least) there is nowhere, in Canada, that one can acquire an iced tea without lemon in it, or any other fruit for that matter, in a retail store situation.
At least, that's what I thought for the longest time.
Enter the Arizona company's Black and White Iced Tea. A magnificent blend of both black and white teas.... without any hint of lemon anywhere near it at all. I found this miracle in the corner store at my apartment, and anyone familiar with the Arizona brand will know how beautifully, how reasonably their beverages are priced. It's no Lipton Blue Label, but by all the gods in heaven I hold dear, I will drink this stuff with a love and relish I have not felt towards any form of liquid sustenance, ever. This even surpasses my breif love affair I had with the Booster Juice Matcha Green Tea Smoothie that was my pick-me-up breakfast before work for so many, many weekends in Ottawa.
Want to know how I realized how much I love this iced tea?
I found out how many cans I have waiting to go out to recycling... I'm not telling, but TOH will understand if I say that I have a pile beginning that rivals his own one-week consumption levels of Blue Label.
Mine's cheaper though.
Weird thoughts at 12:13 in the morning. I definitely want to get this all down while I'm thinking about it though.
Worried about The Other Half. He disappeared a little while ago, kind of in the middle of some "enjoying each other's company" time, because his eye was bugging him. I hope no serious damage has been done. I also hope it's not pinkeye or something like that. We had been sharing movies and laughing.*
Elaine: "We had one of those relationships where we'd laugh and laugh. All the time! Do you know what it's like to laugh like that?"
Judge: "Yes. Yes, I do"
Quote from Airplane, one of our favourite movies. Yeah, yeah, insert "d'aww" track here. We'd just finished watching one of Billy Connoley's stage shows. I couldn't breathe for laughing, about choked it was so funny. I'm telling one of the jokes to Dad later today, for Father's Day.
It feels kind of... odd? alien? to remember Father's Day. Much of my childhood was spent not making that big a deal out of it, or Mother's Day, for that matter, whenever they rolled around. My parents apparently had differing opinions about whether or not they should be observed. Since growing up a little (lot?) more, I've come to the realization that the observance does serve a purpose, but, like any so-called "Hallmark" holiday, they must have a spirit of observance throughout the year. Difficult for me, who is learning to rebuild her relationships with her parents; to change them into a long-lasting one of mutual respect, if not understanding, in some form or another. I do my utmost best to let my parents know, whenever I talk to them, that I appreciate that they didn't let me die before I was out on my own; I appreciate all the things they taught me, both those they meant me to learn, those they hoped I would learn from them and not from my own mistakes, and those they hoped I wouldn't notice and learn from them at all.
Every year that passes, and I look more at myself, I see the parts of me shaped by my parents, and my grandparents (for parents they are, if a generation removed). I think I look a lot like my maternal grandmother, more than any other relative. I know I got my independent streak from my Mother. Both parents contributed to my stubborn refusal to ask for help unless I'm halfway down the chute to the grinder. But one thing I love most about my personality, that I'm truly proud of, all the time, I know I can attribute that to Dad. My sense of humour. Dry, horrible, gut-wrenching, clever, cunning puns and wordplay. It was the vaudeville, Dad. And your own, dear Father, my Papa John. It was all the Monty Python, all the Marx Brothers, and your own brothers, too. All the jokes I make, the contests of wit and wills that have lasted hours (hours!) as I weild this funny bone of mine like a linguistic mace.
So, from me to you, Dad, said here first, and to be uttered to you directly later today... you know, when there's sunlight and I can call you and stuff, but still said:
I love you. Happy Father's Day, and thank you for being my Dad. Even though you may be the living dead.**
*He came back. Eye is better. Now if only his latency would go away so I can stop hearing that "My god I hate you" exasperated sigh. Says something about my own internal demons that any sigh of that tone, no matter who issues it, makes me think that I've done something horribly, horribly wrong, and that I must apologize and make amends IMMEDIATELY or face further, far more dire, consequences.
**No, really. I do love you. Nevermind what I said when I was, what.... four? five? You're hardly showing any signs of decay at all!
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Twofer!
I went. I saw. I knit.
If I knew latin, I would attempt to translate, but I don't, so there, neener neener.
Showed up just a couple minutes late to my own event (terrible of me I know) and I didn't see anyone I recognized, so I claimed a chair and procured cappuccino. While getting said delicious beverage (I swear Coffee Exchange makes the best cappies ever), I noticed someone sitting off to the back that seemed to be on the same wavelength as I was. Boy, was I right.
It was Princess Serenity from Ravelry in all her glory. I must say that I thought going into this that I'd find knitters, didn't quite expect to find such an awesome new friend. We sat and chatted and knit and pet yarn. She's working on some scrumptious socks in... oh blast... I can't remember the yarn. Starts with a J... anyways, she'd gotten it in this beautiful set of colours, black through purple and red to hot pink and back again, and cast on for a pair of socks right then and there. That woman, by the by, can throw like a professional. Lightning fast. Had I been on form, I would still have had a hard time keeping up with her. As it was I was nervous, because I'm not usually this extroverted (I just play one on the interwebs). Sorry if I talked too much.
Cheryl showed up later, with incredible thrummed mittens. I was absolutely fascinated by them. Had them on a pair of Knit Picks Harmony wood circs. I have to confess, I was enthralled by her knitting style. She picks, the method I prefer as well (a.k.a. German/Continental), but her purls were done by wrapping the yarn around the needle, probably in the same way suggested by EZ. I don't know that I could get the hang of it, but I can certainly see the benefit: the stitch is created on the needle so it sits properly. I'm sorry you couldn't stay longer, but it was an absolute delight meeting you.
That was it for the turnout, unfortunately, but I for one had a blast, and anyone that couldn't make it definitely missed out. The Princess and I agreed that we should do this again, so anyone that's in the right Ravelry group, please keep an eye out in the discussion board for future meet ups.
Funniest moment of the day, the one that left me gasping with laughter, occurred when I rounded half the sock and was just changing needles in the middle of the top of the foot. The Princess pointed out what it looked like from her angle. I, being at a different angle, didn't see the resemblance, so she nicely arranged the work in progress to illuminate her insight...
I have done my best to recreate it here, and I think I mostly captured it; however, I have found that socks, before they are socks, try to be something a little higher up the leg. Because it's not just this pair. My first pair, done toe up, did something similar, too.
I wonder if that's where the shoe size euphemism started... I bet it was knitters. Wouldn't surprise me in the least.
Anyways, thanks for a lovely day, ladies.
If I knew latin, I would attempt to translate, but I don't, so there, neener neener.
Showed up just a couple minutes late to my own event (terrible of me I know) and I didn't see anyone I recognized, so I claimed a chair and procured cappuccino. While getting said delicious beverage (I swear Coffee Exchange makes the best cappies ever), I noticed someone sitting off to the back that seemed to be on the same wavelength as I was. Boy, was I right.
It was Princess Serenity from Ravelry in all her glory. I must say that I thought going into this that I'd find knitters, didn't quite expect to find such an awesome new friend. We sat and chatted and knit and pet yarn. She's working on some scrumptious socks in... oh blast... I can't remember the yarn. Starts with a J... anyways, she'd gotten it in this beautiful set of colours, black through purple and red to hot pink and back again, and cast on for a pair of socks right then and there. That woman, by the by, can throw like a professional. Lightning fast. Had I been on form, I would still have had a hard time keeping up with her. As it was I was nervous, because I'm not usually this extroverted (I just play one on the interwebs). Sorry if I talked too much.
Cheryl showed up later, with incredible thrummed mittens. I was absolutely fascinated by them. Had them on a pair of Knit Picks Harmony wood circs. I have to confess, I was enthralled by her knitting style. She picks, the method I prefer as well (a.k.a. German/Continental), but her purls were done by wrapping the yarn around the needle, probably in the same way suggested by EZ. I don't know that I could get the hang of it, but I can certainly see the benefit: the stitch is created on the needle so it sits properly. I'm sorry you couldn't stay longer, but it was an absolute delight meeting you.
That was it for the turnout, unfortunately, but I for one had a blast, and anyone that couldn't make it definitely missed out. The Princess and I agreed that we should do this again, so anyone that's in the right Ravelry group, please keep an eye out in the discussion board for future meet ups.
Funniest moment of the day, the one that left me gasping with laughter, occurred when I rounded half the sock and was just changing needles in the middle of the top of the foot. The Princess pointed out what it looked like from her angle. I, being at a different angle, didn't see the resemblance, so she nicely arranged the work in progress to illuminate her insight...
I have done my best to recreate it here, and I think I mostly captured it; however, I have found that socks, before they are socks, try to be something a little higher up the leg. Because it's not just this pair. My first pair, done toe up, did something similar, too.
I wonder if that's where the shoe size euphemism started... I bet it was knitters. Wouldn't surprise me in the least.
Anyways, thanks for a lovely day, ladies.
Oh Em Gee!
It's here! It's really here! The Day of the Grand Event that I Scheduled!
Thank heavens I found my camera. I'm so excited I could... I forget. I could do many embarrassing things to signify that excitement, but for now I'll just finish getting ready and packing yarny things to show off and hope that other people show.
More later!
Thank heavens I found my camera. I'm so excited I could... I forget. I could do many embarrassing things to signify that excitement, but for now I'll just finish getting ready and packing yarny things to show off and hope that other people show.
More later!
Friday, June 15, 2012
Fie and Blast!
Of course. One of the few times I actually make some kind of progress on a knitted article. Some thing tangible, and visible, and real. Something that sits up and screams: "Look at me! I'm different than I was before! She's not a lazy lying non-knitting butt!" Something that only turning a heel can do...
and I can't find my camera to show off.
Facilities will be upping the ventilation and putting more fans around to clear the blue in the air while our intrepid heroine finds her lost piece of technology*.
*Heh... Lostech... Sorry, random Mech Warrior joke thrown in for the benefit of The Other Half.
Edit: Oh lordy I am weak. I have Noro on the way, because I want a stripy scarf Just Like Theirs...
and I can't find my camera to show off.
Facilities will be upping the ventilation and putting more fans around to clear the blue in the air while our intrepid heroine finds her lost piece of technology*.
*Heh... Lostech... Sorry, random Mech Warrior joke thrown in for the benefit of The Other Half.
Edit: Oh lordy I am weak. I have Noro on the way, because I want a stripy scarf Just Like Theirs...
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Memories
They're strange things. I was talking to one of the Knitting Broads at work, N. in fact, and she pointed me to a website to watch anime. I went looking for one show, but managed to find Sailor Moon.
Right away I was whisked back to my tween years. Boy howdy was that show just the thing when I was in grade 8 and 9... my cousins loved it. My aunt and uncle got me some virtual paper dolls of the Sailor Scouts... and the one thing that keeps getting stuck in my head is that so many of those dolls were so not appropriate for a girl my age.
Hot though they were.
Back to my sock!
Right away I was whisked back to my tween years. Boy howdy was that show just the thing when I was in grade 8 and 9... my cousins loved it. My aunt and uncle got me some virtual paper dolls of the Sailor Scouts... and the one thing that keeps getting stuck in my head is that so many of those dolls were so not appropriate for a girl my age.
Hot though they were.
Back to my sock!
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Another day...
Another blog. Both to be read and to be written.
That makes no sense. Ugh. My poor fried little brain. We hates it precious.
Well not really, but I'll pretend for pretend's sake.
I wish I could bring myself to read more, but reading books for myself has just become so... mundane. No, dad, I'm not getting rid of my books, don't even start. I have found, though, a slice of joy in reading my books out loud. Puts The Other Half to sleep in a trice, but it allows me to really absorb the book. I found out that I tend to read really fast if it's just a book for me. My eyes translate letters into mind-pictures so quickly I'll forget I'm actually holding a book. It's great. Probably also the reason why... well one of the many reasons why, I love fiction so much. I get an instant movie playing in my head, that's far, far more enjoyable than many movies I've seen recently, if only because I get to make my own cast. Reading aloud though, has focused me more when I'm going through a book. I can't really do voices well, but my gods does the story come alive for me. It's different, and refreshing, and the background snores it creates are so adorable.
Apparently bus knitting agrees with me in some small way. I pulled the sock out on the bus last night and whipped around it a few times, then let it sit in my bag again. When I measured it this morning, it only needed two rows to get me to the six inches I needed, when before it was firmly, firmly at five and a half. Jerk black hole. Well, it's gone now, and I have to surmount the difficult task of: Sl 1, k1 across; turn, Sl 1, p across. It's so hard! Pfft, I'm just a dunce whenever the temperature goes up.
Read an article today that will be appearing in the journal of sexual health (or something, I lost the link) that was talking about the genetic factor that makes gay men gay. Makes me wish I knew some gay men to talk to them about the article. What it means to them, if it offends, if they themselves have noticed the trend (the chromosome that apparently causes it is inherited through the X, and it's matrilinial, so it causes the women directly related to the gay man to be more successful breeders: more attractive to men, fewer gynecological problems, easier pregnancies, and more likely to have a high birth rate). It was fascinating to me, but for some reason a bit insulting, if only because I have a hard time with the word "gay" being tossed around so blithely. I don't think I have any right to be offended, not being of that persuasion myself, but I don't like a word to be abused: used in a negative connotation for so many, many things, not just people and their sexual predilections. Language abuse is horrible. The article was interesting.
I'm going to go spend a little time being a Trekkie, and enjoy a small amount of cashews (yay on sale!), and then consider dinner, and try to fully put away this weird temper tantrum that has been building up all afternoon for no good reason. It's sad really... a woman of my age (snort. my age. I say that like it's some horrible thing. I'm not even over 30 yet, ffs.*) is still quite susceptible to temper tantrums. I suppose someone out there may have a better term for the damn things, but I'm calling it like I see it: I feel out of sorts and contrary, and highly liable to explode in tears and screaming if someone so much as breathes wrong or looks at me funny. It's a godd*mned temper tantrum. I won't throw one if I can help it. Mom proved to me at a very young age that I just look stupid doing it... and she's better at them.
Might as well throw in a Cherry Dr. Pepper while I'm at it to soothe the savage beast. Rawr.
*That is a legitimate abbreviation, even with the lowercase letters. Just about everyone says "Fer F.... Sake" at some point
That makes no sense. Ugh. My poor fried little brain. We hates it precious.
Well not really, but I'll pretend for pretend's sake.
I wish I could bring myself to read more, but reading books for myself has just become so... mundane. No, dad, I'm not getting rid of my books, don't even start. I have found, though, a slice of joy in reading my books out loud. Puts The Other Half to sleep in a trice, but it allows me to really absorb the book. I found out that I tend to read really fast if it's just a book for me. My eyes translate letters into mind-pictures so quickly I'll forget I'm actually holding a book. It's great. Probably also the reason why... well one of the many reasons why, I love fiction so much. I get an instant movie playing in my head, that's far, far more enjoyable than many movies I've seen recently, if only because I get to make my own cast. Reading aloud though, has focused me more when I'm going through a book. I can't really do voices well, but my gods does the story come alive for me. It's different, and refreshing, and the background snores it creates are so adorable.
Apparently bus knitting agrees with me in some small way. I pulled the sock out on the bus last night and whipped around it a few times, then let it sit in my bag again. When I measured it this morning, it only needed two rows to get me to the six inches I needed, when before it was firmly, firmly at five and a half. Jerk black hole. Well, it's gone now, and I have to surmount the difficult task of: Sl 1, k1 across; turn, Sl 1, p across. It's so hard! Pfft, I'm just a dunce whenever the temperature goes up.
Read an article today that will be appearing in the journal of sexual health (or something, I lost the link) that was talking about the genetic factor that makes gay men gay. Makes me wish I knew some gay men to talk to them about the article. What it means to them, if it offends, if they themselves have noticed the trend (the chromosome that apparently causes it is inherited through the X, and it's matrilinial, so it causes the women directly related to the gay man to be more successful breeders: more attractive to men, fewer gynecological problems, easier pregnancies, and more likely to have a high birth rate). It was fascinating to me, but for some reason a bit insulting, if only because I have a hard time with the word "gay" being tossed around so blithely. I don't think I have any right to be offended, not being of that persuasion myself, but I don't like a word to be abused: used in a negative connotation for so many, many things, not just people and their sexual predilections. Language abuse is horrible. The article was interesting.
I'm going to go spend a little time being a Trekkie, and enjoy a small amount of cashews (yay on sale!), and then consider dinner, and try to fully put away this weird temper tantrum that has been building up all afternoon for no good reason. It's sad really... a woman of my age (snort. my age. I say that like it's some horrible thing. I'm not even over 30 yet, ffs.*) is still quite susceptible to temper tantrums. I suppose someone out there may have a better term for the damn things, but I'm calling it like I see it: I feel out of sorts and contrary, and highly liable to explode in tears and screaming if someone so much as breathes wrong or looks at me funny. It's a godd*mned temper tantrum. I won't throw one if I can help it. Mom proved to me at a very young age that I just look stupid doing it... and she's better at them.
Might as well throw in a Cherry Dr. Pepper while I'm at it to soothe the savage beast. Rawr.
*That is a legitimate abbreviation, even with the lowercase letters. Just about everyone says "Fer F.... Sake" at some point
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Bad Blogger!
How dare I be absent for so long!
Lame excuse: It was WAY too hot to sit here and type stuff.
WWKIP event on Saturday and I can only hope the weather isn't going to make me want to shoot myself. Especially since it's being held in once of the nicest coffee places I've found in Windsor so far. They make a killer cappuccino. It's perfection in a frothy cup. Seriously. Never have I had better, and I've been to some nice coffee places.
The socks are black holing on me so I'm rather upset at that. The work schedule and requirements have changed so I don't have much time to do a lot of work on them at my desk (pity). Still need to look seriously into a job that won't have me talking to customers all day every day. Starting to get painfully cynical. But on the plus side I'm almost done one leg, and I'm not going to continue the rib down the foot, damned though that may make me.
I'm going to say it. It's going to sound dirty to any process knitter out there, and many product knitters, too.
I want to knit a plain field of stockinette.
Just knit. Around and around. It would be so nice and relaxing. Mindless, in a good way. Zen in ways the uninitiated long for.
No pictures. The camera's on walkabout. It's somewhere in the apartment, but not within reach.
Trying to figure out a yarn budget for next month. Started reading another blog which pointed me at Elann.com and I may be in trouble. Not to mention that I have to get the pattern and the laceweight for the Ravelympics. I think I have found the right yarn in the right colour. And from a groovy indie dyer, too. Details once I've made my decision. The hard part is finding the colour that I want. Not many people think or see the same thing when I say I want a red. Not pink, nor orange, or red leaning in either of those directions, I want a red leaning towards black or blue. I want a red that makes people think of poison apples, dangerous kisses, wet look latex, "you've been a naughty boy go to my room", that kind of red. It's a hard colour to hit. I've come close in some nail polish colours. Mom helped me nail it for my prom (boy did I turn heads that night, hee hee hee). But to try to find it in yarn? Tricky. I'll look though, and at least make an effort.
Non yarn related stuff: A/C is still busted, and I'm starting to think that's how bugs are getting in to my apartment. Had a big honking multi-legged horror drop from the ceiling into the sink in front of my yesterday morning. I was proud because I didn't scream, and managed to fight down my panic to drown the disgusting thing in the sink. The plug has been in the drain since then because I can't risk it coming back to get me. Funny though. I will freak the ever-loving f*** out whenever confronted with something that has an exoskeleton and 6 legs, or an exoskeleton and a bajillion legs*, but I'm cool with 8. Arachnids don't bother me. I love them. Know why? They eat the friggin things I can't stand. I'm all for that. So totally not looking forward to going south in cicada season *gag*.
Have to finish putting together the care package for Colorado, cousin E is getting goodies, and I'm throwing something in there for my Mom. Still working on the lines of communication thing there, but it's at least going better than it has in past months.
Christmas knitting is going really well, doing more of that on Saturday. My gods I can't even go more than a paragraph without coming back to this hobby. I've promised myself that I will finish up the Christmassy stuff and other various works in progress before I start on the super challenging. The entrelac is calling to me. I was extremely clever though.... or extremely stupid, one of the two. I used the needles I was planning on using for the entrelac to do some Christmas stuff (TOH will be upset to know the truth, but I have way too many things on the go right now, something had to stop me from my startitis).
So far the list is:
- Demon Sweater
- Blue socks
- Yellow thing
- Christmas knitting for Dad
- Christmas knitting for Step-mum
And somewhere in there I have to fit:
- Ravelympics lace
- Christmas knitting mystery 1
- Christmas knitting mystery 2
- Christmas knitting mystery 3
- Entrelac design thing for TOH (essentially a blanket just for his feet to attach to the footstool under his computer desk... kinda weird that I'd do something so complicated that's going to spend it's life under a desk, but it's basically going to be a really big practice swatch for when I want to use the technique for other things that will remain visible... this could have been a footnote, but I didn't wanna)
And that doesn't count the crochet I have sitting in my stash bag staring at me pointedly. A word in that direction: sewing up granny squares SUCKS. All future blankety endeavours will be continuous, contiguous or grafted.... or all three. Never again will I make peices, itty, bitty, teeny, titchy little pieces, that must be sewn to each other to create a whole. If I wanted to do that, I would have kept on with the quilting when my mother attempted to teach me (sorry mom, I hope you've tossed those remnants, I obviously don't have the pink blanket anymore, beloved though it was). Not to say there's anything wrong with quilting. It's just not for me.
Oh and I also have to find a spindle soon. Otherwise I may contemplate doing something really stupid like finding a great wheel to restore.
*crustaceans not included, just bu-.... urgh can't even say it, too icky.
Lame excuse: It was WAY too hot to sit here and type stuff.
WWKIP event on Saturday and I can only hope the weather isn't going to make me want to shoot myself. Especially since it's being held in once of the nicest coffee places I've found in Windsor so far. They make a killer cappuccino. It's perfection in a frothy cup. Seriously. Never have I had better, and I've been to some nice coffee places.
The socks are black holing on me so I'm rather upset at that. The work schedule and requirements have changed so I don't have much time to do a lot of work on them at my desk (pity). Still need to look seriously into a job that won't have me talking to customers all day every day. Starting to get painfully cynical. But on the plus side I'm almost done one leg, and I'm not going to continue the rib down the foot, damned though that may make me.
I'm going to say it. It's going to sound dirty to any process knitter out there, and many product knitters, too.
I want to knit a plain field of stockinette.
Just knit. Around and around. It would be so nice and relaxing. Mindless, in a good way. Zen in ways the uninitiated long for.
No pictures. The camera's on walkabout. It's somewhere in the apartment, but not within reach.
Trying to figure out a yarn budget for next month. Started reading another blog which pointed me at Elann.com and I may be in trouble. Not to mention that I have to get the pattern and the laceweight for the Ravelympics. I think I have found the right yarn in the right colour. And from a groovy indie dyer, too. Details once I've made my decision. The hard part is finding the colour that I want. Not many people think or see the same thing when I say I want a red. Not pink, nor orange, or red leaning in either of those directions, I want a red leaning towards black or blue. I want a red that makes people think of poison apples, dangerous kisses, wet look latex, "you've been a naughty boy go to my room", that kind of red. It's a hard colour to hit. I've come close in some nail polish colours. Mom helped me nail it for my prom (boy did I turn heads that night, hee hee hee). But to try to find it in yarn? Tricky. I'll look though, and at least make an effort.
Non yarn related stuff: A/C is still busted, and I'm starting to think that's how bugs are getting in to my apartment. Had a big honking multi-legged horror drop from the ceiling into the sink in front of my yesterday morning. I was proud because I didn't scream, and managed to fight down my panic to drown the disgusting thing in the sink. The plug has been in the drain since then because I can't risk it coming back to get me. Funny though. I will freak the ever-loving f*** out whenever confronted with something that has an exoskeleton and 6 legs, or an exoskeleton and a bajillion legs*, but I'm cool with 8. Arachnids don't bother me. I love them. Know why? They eat the friggin things I can't stand. I'm all for that. So totally not looking forward to going south in cicada season *gag*.
Have to finish putting together the care package for Colorado, cousin E is getting goodies, and I'm throwing something in there for my Mom. Still working on the lines of communication thing there, but it's at least going better than it has in past months.
Christmas knitting is going really well, doing more of that on Saturday. My gods I can't even go more than a paragraph without coming back to this hobby. I've promised myself that I will finish up the Christmassy stuff and other various works in progress before I start on the super challenging. The entrelac is calling to me. I was extremely clever though.... or extremely stupid, one of the two. I used the needles I was planning on using for the entrelac to do some Christmas stuff (TOH will be upset to know the truth, but I have way too many things on the go right now, something had to stop me from my startitis).
So far the list is:
- Demon Sweater
- Blue socks
- Yellow thing
- Christmas knitting for Dad
- Christmas knitting for Step-mum
And somewhere in there I have to fit:
- Ravelympics lace
- Christmas knitting mystery 1
- Christmas knitting mystery 2
- Christmas knitting mystery 3
- Entrelac design thing for TOH (essentially a blanket just for his feet to attach to the footstool under his computer desk... kinda weird that I'd do something so complicated that's going to spend it's life under a desk, but it's basically going to be a really big practice swatch for when I want to use the technique for other things that will remain visible... this could have been a footnote, but I didn't wanna)
And that doesn't count the crochet I have sitting in my stash bag staring at me pointedly. A word in that direction: sewing up granny squares SUCKS. All future blankety endeavours will be continuous, contiguous or grafted.... or all three. Never again will I make peices, itty, bitty, teeny, titchy little pieces, that must be sewn to each other to create a whole. If I wanted to do that, I would have kept on with the quilting when my mother attempted to teach me (sorry mom, I hope you've tossed those remnants, I obviously don't have the pink blanket anymore, beloved though it was). Not to say there's anything wrong with quilting. It's just not for me.
Oh and I also have to find a spindle soon. Otherwise I may contemplate doing something really stupid like finding a great wheel to restore.
*crustaceans not included, just bu-.... urgh can't even say it, too icky.
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