I was away for the weekend, visiting The Other Half and finishing up my "sweet goddess kill me now" plague. On the way down, I got to find out that the outlets on the bus weren't working, so my laptop died after one movie, which was good, got a good chunk of the trip taken care of; Detroit to Toledo. A lady got on at Toledo and sat next to me just after I'd put the laptop away and pulled out the knitting. We spent the next three plus hours talking, and I was knitting almost the entire time. I only stopped to teach her how to knit, and then how to crochet (I love having all my tools with me). I didn't realize it then but when I got off the bus at my destination, Cincinnati, I had gone through half of each ball. And I didn't even knit from Dayton to Cincinnati because it had gotten too dark and I didn't feel like turning on the light.
Knit a bit over the weekend, when I could. I spent a lot of time in bed, passed out, attempting to get well. Did a bunch during two movies and... wait... three movies, I came downstairs at one point on Saturday and watched Shaun of the Dead (one of my many favourites). Sunday was two back-to-back movies with mucho knitting time, and then the latest episode of Doctor Who. I thought I would cry during that episode, but I spent more time being paranoiac and freaked out; then relieved at the end. It was upsetting, but it didn't tear me up as much as certain episodes with the Ninth Doctor or the Tenth Doctor. I remember bawling like a lost child while making my way through those series. I think it's because the Eleventh Doctor doesn't have the depth and subtlety of acting that Nine or Ten did. Eleven is all "go big or go home" and it doesn't tug at my heartstrings as much. Still sucky, still emotion inducing, just not "Oh good gods how am I going to go on living? I will never stop crying. Not. Ever."
Wait... I was talking about something else... Oh yeah! Knitting.
(Wow. I got sidetracked from Knitting. Take note everyone: I have an obsession/love greater than fibre. Scary.)
Anyways, I did a whole bunch of work on the scarf during those movies/shows and I could see that I was getting close to the end of the k1p1 ribbing (yay) and the end of the delicious colour variation (boo). Well, when I got on the bus to come back to my main base, it wasn't a fancy newfangled bus that could allow me to hook up my laptop and be entertained that way; so I pulled out the scarf and finished that sucker. I used up as much of those balls as I possibly could. There's only a few inches from each colourway left (and Leftoversushi gets the leftovers because she turns them into awesome. Don't believe me? Check her profile on Ravelry.
So now I have this totally gorgeous scarf that's finished and pretty and long kinda hanging around my apartment. I have no idea who to give it to. I can't wear it, it would irritate my skin. I am also not blissfully in love with the colours. Don't get me wrong, they're stunning and gorgeous, and do this sexy "winter/fall" melding together. But they're not me.
And it is way too late to get any pictures.
I'll figure something out tomorrow. For now: getting something to eat, taking my last antibiotic, and relaxing myself into zen...
Oh! and casting on a pair of socks.
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