Again with the Disappearing Act

I don't know what it is with me and just getting lost on my way to this blog. First it was webcomics, and then little browser games, and then World of Tanks, and YouTube and, and, and... It's terrible, ignoring this thing. I'm supposed to be able to come here and pour little brain droppings out into the wild blue yonder for random samples of the general internet public to read, and possibly comment on. But I don't. Well not entirely true. I do write stuff, I just don't do it consistently enough to really be able to call myself a blogger, I suppose. I'm trying. I need this space so that I don't drive everyone else I know and care about absolutely bat sh*t crazy with all my yarn rambling. So, without further delay: this weekend's events.

Woke up on Saturday before noon. I should get a gods be damned medal for that. When it comes to weekends, I don't sleep, I hibernate. The Other Half really doesn't like it. Thinks it's wasting time we could be spending together or doing stuff together. The thing is... I need it. With all the time I spend staying up late during the week, I need the weekend to catch up. I can't live, I can't even survive, on six hours of sleep. I have to try for eight or, if possible, more, to make sure I can be coherent, and not wake up fifteen minutes before I have to leave. I'd feel bad about it, but I don't care. I know what my body needs, and so I get it. If that means not waking up until after lunch, then that's the way it's going to be. Besides, me sleeping in means TOH gets all kinds of "Man Time" where he can do guy stuff uninterrupted. I'm sure he's sick of me busting in on him in the bathroom when he's shaving so I can watch him... and make repeated offers to help. That probably makes me odd. Not like that matters to me either, I'm just making an observation. I do like shaving his face though. It's very different from doing my legs. More contours, the hair is a different texture, and he has bits he leaves. The technical term for his leftovers is a Van Dyke, but I'm sure someone will try to call it a goatee... it's not though, when you have a goatee, and a moustache together, and they meet on either side of the lips, it's a whole different species of face-squirrel. I'm going to get scolded for that. It's better now than it was. When I first met TOH, he just had a moustache. I made some very unflattering remarks about it, too. I was horrible. Called it a caterpillar.... Was tickled mercilessly for that. Then he listened to me, and grew out the Van Dyke and now looks very handsome in deed (no you can't have him, he's mine). Anyways, I do like watching him shave, and really enjoy helping. At some point I'm probably going to save up and spring for a really nice single blade set, with proper brush and little cup. I've done a lot of reading about single blade shaving over the past couple of days. Very fascinating stuff, especially the whole: you'll have a better quality shave and less irritation, ingrown hairs and all that jazz, because a single blade can be made sharper, and you're only going over it once, instead of three/four/five times with your uber-plastic-cartridge-blah. So yes, me sleeping in means he can do his morning routine without me being annoying/cute at him before he's awake, and he can have some interruption free gaming, too, before I start in with all that "hey let's spend time together".... though, apparently he gets too much of that, because I am sleeping in too late for his preferences, which then brings us back to the beginning of the paragraph... without getting me to the rest of my Saturday....

Starting over: Woke up on Saturday, earlier than I usually do, because I had some errands to run. I checked the bus schedules and figured out that I had to leave around 2pm-ish, to be able to get things done that I needed to get done in time to meet up with Princess... something I may have neglected to mention to TOH... I'll have to check my notes. At any rate, the big errand was going down to Big-Box-Store, and getting another ball of yarn for the Demon Sweater, because the Games are starting sooooooooon. And I made a Promise(tm). Yep, capital letter and all. Now, I should have more than enough. So I'm hoping that I can rock this all out, because I have the sweater, and the shawl, and a pair of socks.... I may have pulled down too much. However, I did take the afghans off the list because it's really REALLY too damn hot to have a full blanket sitting on my lap, when I don't have A/C. Moving on: I picked up the yarn, and I got a row counter, as well, because I might need one, and I'm brain dead in summer. I also got some neat freezy pop things, two packs for a buck each. They're pretty good. I should go and get more if I can bring myself to take the hour long bus ride down to Big-Box-Store again. After I got the yarn stuffs, I headed back downtown for some much needed girlie time with Princess, because she, too, needed an impartial ear to just yak at. I felt better afterwards, and I hope she did, too (sound off in the comments Princess). She's had drama inflicted upon her; I've inflicted drama upon myself. We both needed to just get our brains in order. My favourite part: anything that I know is totally confidential, I tend to automatically forget the details of. Been that way since I was small. I've never really been able to remember a secret. I've been told them, and told they were secrets, and told to NEVER ever ever tell anyone else ever (with all those little childish rituals we go through)... and then I've promptly forgotten what the secret actually was so I wouldn't ever tell it. Nice little defense strategy there.

I feel I should point out here, for my own benefit as for that of TOH, that this is nothing against TOH. Hon, I know that if I have a beef with you, or if there's something going on that involves you that I should just come and talk to you, but, and this is why this is out here, I'm sure every woman who reads this will agree: sometimes, we just need to talk. We need to talk to another woman. Someone who won't immediately try to find a solution because we sound like there's a problem or there's something wrong. I talk so I can hear myself thing, not through your perspective though, because I know how you do say back exactly what I've said so that I can hear it. I know what I've said, I know what I sound like: I've said bullsh*t and I sound pants-on-head retarded; or at least very clueless and not at all intelligent. That's because I have to get through the mental slog to be able to come out with that intelligent, mature verbal discourse that you tell me you fell in love with. While I am smart, and I can be very mature for my age, I'm still a woman, and still think like a woman, and still process information like a woman. Which means needing, in many cases, to talk. A lot. Without being told "I'll do this and that will fix it" or "I'll never do this thing you're saying upsets you ever again".... I'm not talking to get an answer, or to have something fixed. I'm talking for the sake of getting it out of my head, when it's too jumbled up for me to write it down.

I'm also writing this here because I know we've talked about this a lot, and I'm trying to make sure I have it down clearly and as concisely as possible for my own future reference.

So yeah, I snuck off and hung out with Princess on Saturday so we could knit and chat and shoot the breeze and all sorts of fun stuff.... and when I went shopping last weekend and got those oh-so-pretty underthings, Knitting Broad N went with me, because she had no idea about what it meant to have a proper-fitting bra, and the saleslady was nice enough to put up with my rabid underwear-acquisition-fest and measure N. Admittedly part of that was selfish because I was tired of hearing N complaining every other day about how what she was wearing didn't fit, but I also needed some moral support in icky-horrible-Mall-land (they're such psychological death traps, I didn't want to go alone).

Weird that I am reporting on this stuff here as though I'm actually talking to him, when I already have. I should probably figure out an official "audience" for this blog so that I can have some consistency in my tone and delivery.


Oh! and I started on the toe of the blue socks that have been showing up here. Well the toe of the sock that's been on the needles for all those pictures... The other sock is going to have to wait.


Day 18: Do you knit English or Continental?
Continental if that's the one where you pick. I don't throw (pretty sure that's English....) I'm messy when I throw, and I learned to crochet first, so it felt more natural when I was learning how to knit. Purling was odd. The Best Friend had a good couple chuckles at me when my first attempts at "purling" were actually me knitting through the back loop. I fixed it though. I'm all better and can do both now.