Unintended

I don't think that the guy who stole a television from the WalMart realized he was 'paying it forward' when he stole the t.v. You see I was turning into the WalMart, and the left turn light was red even though the regular light was green, but it was early in the morning and only one lone car was coming and so I was all, "Fuk it, I'm going! Kiss that red light good bye." But then the one lone car was all, "I'm a cop asshole! Pull over." So there I am in the WalMart parking lot, feeling like a supreme idiot, when several people coming running out of the store arms all flailing and stuff. The cop was at his car, writing me up, when the running flailing folk reach him. I can't hear whats going on, but I am staring in my rear view mirror when I see the running flailers hand the cop a sheet of paper and point. Well the cop, who was a fan of the doughnut and in really no shape to run, runs over to my car. He throws my license and stuff in the window, gasps, "I don't have time for this, I've gotta go!" and turns around and runs to his car. He then collapses hops into his car and speeds away. Only later did I learn that someone had taken a t.v. and that the cop dumped me, a mere red-light-turner-oner for the t.v. stealer.

For Real

Holy Shit Yo!


I have the salmonella peanut butter!


It has the right code and everything.


And, I have eaten it. A whole bunch of it!


Obviously the peanut butter is no longer in my pantry. In fact, it is sitting on my desk as a reminder to call Peter Pan to see if I can get a free replacement. Is that cheap of me? It could be worse, I could use it up. I mean, I did eat half of it already. I don't think it has salmonella. But I'm not really sure. I mean, I don't have a gall bladder, so half the stuff I eat sends me to the restroom anyway. Also, I seem to have an unusual tolerance to foods that could kill me.

Oh, and in light of the recent salmonella peanut butter development, I hereby officially and publicly apologize to my husband for threatening to harm him or his man parts if he so much as put a finger on my peanut butter. As he is a hater of the Peter Pan and a lover of the Skippy (ick!), I thought he was being prickish. I thought wrong. He was being a kind and caring husband and was only looking out for my best interest. So, be it known to all that I was wrong and I apologize.

Feathered and Fanned

My first pair of socks with Socks that Rock yarn - fini! I really liked this yarn. I know many people find this yarn to be the ultimate in sock yarn, and though it was soft on the fingers and has a really nice sproinginess to it, it didn't bring me to orgasm. Unfortunately. Because let me tell you, THAT would be one hell of a selling point!




I did really like the yarn though. It is, for my fingers, comparable to Lorna Laces. And, like the soft squishiness of the LL, the STR totally pooled. I prefer for my stripes to line up, but it doesn't drive me to drink if they don't. So I am okay with the mismatched pooling stripes. Though it is a little sad, because the pooling really mutes the color variation.





These socks are the first pair that I've knit that truly fit well. Sixth time the charm? These guys fit perfectly. They slide over the heel with no tightness and fit my tootsies snugly. A-friggen-men. I divided my hank of yarn and knitted these socks toe-up to maximize my yarn yardage. But I still had a decent amount leftover. Sweet! Overall, these were nice to knit and should be nice to wear.


Though I was not moved to sexual gratification from knitting this yarn, I did like it and am now fighting the strongest compulsion to buy MORE MORE MORE! You see, there is this chevron scarf that she started, and then she started one, and now a bunch of other people are making them, and I LOVE THIS SCARF. But I don't need another scarf and I certainly don't need any more yarn, but damn, if it isn't just calling my name.



Yarn: Socks that Rock (Lemongrass), 1 skein, perfectly divided into two balls.
Needles: Addis, size 1
Pattern: Feather & Fan, modified by me to be toe-up.
Time: January 26, 2007 - February 12, 2007.
Care: Machine washable, though hand washing in warm water with mild detergent recommended.

Today Was a Snow Day

So Cat played with this:




(Yah, he is still a Florida kitty. That is the only explanation for his unhealthy obsession with the heat vent).

Dogbert played with this:





And I played with this:



Good times all around!

Knitting Library

I've been meaning to send a big THANK YOU to Patty, my Secret Pal 9 hostess. She sent me a very handy little book, The Knitting Answer Book. This book is especially neat because not only does it have lots of useful info, it is small enough to fit in my regular knitting bag. As you can see, it is my only reference book, so I am sure it will get some major usage. Again, thank you Patty!

D'oh

We're sittiing on the couch, watching the Grammy's ...
ME: Hey babe, what is the name of that movie with Marky Mark?
BOO: Huh?
ME: You know, that movie where he is a rock star in a rock band?
BOO: hahahaheeeeehahahahaheeee
ME: Shut up! It's a real movie. Seriously, you know that movie. Marky Mark was the singer in a cover band but then he makes it into the real band and becomes this huge rock star and then quits at end during the middle of a song?
BOO: heeee! heeee! Can't breathe! heeeee!
ME: Come on. I think Jennifer Aniston is in it. She was his girlfriend but then dumps him because he is all into his rock star persona.
BOO: HAHAHAHA. Stop it. You're killing me. HAHAHA. HEEEE.
ME: ??
BOO: Rock Star, Homer, the movie is called Rock Star.

In other news, yesterday afternoon I took a finishing class at a LYS. While using one of the techniques, we had to pick up stitches. I am watching the instructor and she is doing something I have NEVER seen before. I said, "Wait! Stop! What are you doing?" She said, "Picking up stitches. We have to pick up stitches first." And it was at that moment I realized why I HATE picking up stitches ... I have been doing it WRONG all along.

At It Again

I received a memo. My office is having a Valentine's Day brunch. I thought it was a joke. Wrong. Not only will I have to work V-Day evening at a career fair, I'll have to socialize with the group of mindless crackpots that are my co-workers. It really is one more poke of the stick that has already put a crimp in my V-Day plans. So stay tuned. There has only been one memo, but I am sure more will follow with rules on how one may touch food, and what one may do with left overs. This memo was concluded with a request for suggestions. I offered up Bloody Marys and Screwdrivers. Mr. Cool asked for some Valium, or in the alternative, a Hooters Girl. This should be fun

Asked and Answered

Yesterday I asked, what do the two things in this picture have in common. And today, gentle reader, I am going to tell you. (Did you like that "gentle reader"? So Victorian.)





1) Both are Swatches. Swatch watch and yarn swatch.
2) Neither does what it was designed to do. The Swatch watch, it doesn't work. Why do I keep it? Because I am a pack rat. Moving on. The yarn swatch was suppose to tell me my gauge was right on. It's not. As feared the skinny bits are throwing me off about three-quarters of a stitch. Asshole skinny bits!
3) Both are kind of blotchy. The watch's band is blotchy and discolored from old age (I believe I bought this in 1990ish). The yarn's color way is kind of blotchy (though this is a good thing since I DO. NOT. WANT. CAMOUFLAGE.)

Better In My Head

Sometimes when I am driving to work, instead of paying attention, my mind wanders. And, sometimes it wanders into little ideas and rifts that I think would be brilliant and funny and great to share with the internet in a fun blog post. This is not one of those posts. Sorry. It is, however, packed with photos.

The first photo has nothing to do with anything, except that Dogbert was being exceptionally cute. See,


Cute Dogbert. Now that we've got that out of the way, let's talk about knitting, or more specifically why I need to remodel my home in order to become a better knitter.

After C'mas, I bought a ball winder and swift on uber sale. It was such an uber sale that I never got the ball winder because they were sold out. I did get the swift, which I immediately wanted to mount and play with ... mount on a table, not in some sort of Debbie Does Dallas way, pervs. Anywho, I searched my house for a suitable table and repeatedly struck out, until I reached the basement. Our basement, our very cluttered, messy, but dry basement has a work bench that was perfect. Zip ahead to me getting a ball winder and wanting to ball some yarn. I bring the winder to the one place the swift will work and lo and behold the work bench is too think for the winder. Now do you see why I need a remodel? I need a room suitable for a table with a ball winder and swift, and a few scantily clad studly men. Fortunately my basement is messy and has things like random pieces of scrap wood sitting around (though it does lack studly scantily clad beefcakes). I attached the winder to the wood and was off. Well, I was off after I read the directions, because geez, I really wasn't sure what I was doing despite seeing it done over and over and over and even participating once.


When all was said and done, or wound in this case, I decided that my picture of the whole first time alone winding kind of sucked, as well as revealed that anal-retentive little ole me is really a piggly wiggly slob. So, I picked up a picture frame that was down there to be glued (the picture is BeFri and I at the ripe ole age of about 15, in around 1991, out at Stiltsville), and posed the yarn with it.


The picture, like this post, was much better in my head. I thought it would be artsy. I thought wrong. The only thing that this picture shows is that 1) there is a reason I had skin cancer by the time I was 20, and 2) BeFri can catch the shortest fish in the bay.

So, after winding my yarn, I decided to swatch it. I was a little nervous because the thin bits of the yarn looked thinner than my sweater could handle and might mess with my gauge. After swatching, I took another picture (that was also much better in my head) and now I ask you, what do these two things have in common?

Good Stuff

I started writing this really philosophical post about how for all the bad luck I've had, I've also had some good luck. But, blech, who really cares about that? People,

My grievance was DISMISSED!
The panel found no probable case!
Grievant = ass hole!

Okay, maybe the ass hole part was my spin. That may have not been in their letter of dismissal. A non-appealable dismissal. But yeah! I am so happy I did a little dance. I did keep my clothes on. Barely. Actually, as a matter of full disclosure, I did loose a shoe during my shimmying gyrations. Nekid foot! Nekid foot! If you have ever seen me dance, you'll know it looks more like a seizure than a dance. But I strongly believe that what I lack in rhythm, talent, and skill, I make up for in exuberance. See, missing shoe above. I am so pleased. If I had a horn, I'd toot it.

I'm also pleased about my WEBS trip. On Saturday afternoon, five of my SnB'ers and I went to WEBS for some SEX. Wait, I think I used that acronym wrong. You get my drift though? I had a list that some might call "crazy," though I prefer the term "fun."




It started out on one pink post-it note and grew. It was long, but I was good. Spendy (my alter-ego who thinks that, and shops like, I am a billionaire) was restrained. I did not even get half of the stuff on my list. I was tempted though, especially in light of my cohorts' purchasing. Exhibit A:




This is a shopping cart of ML's stuff. Just her stuff. That's it. Not a ball for anyone else in our group. She had the WHOLE cart for her stuff. It was AWESOME. I had such fun looking at all of it. I lived vicariously through her! In fact, it was almost like a store inside the store. While I was in the checkout line, two women saw her cart and were whispering about the cost and speculating that it would be over a grand. This inspired the rest of us to start a pool. I was the closest to the cost and won $5! Woot! Woot! Now, Exhibit B:




This is all of my stuff on top of all of TWG's stuff. In one hand basket, not even a cart. I picked up yarn for one sweater, a book, and a ball winder. I did not get the $300 worth of yarn for the dragonfly sweater. I'm going to do it, but not just yet. You see that yarn in the bag on the top? Here:



That is my soon to be sweater. It shall be knit traditionally, in pieces, with seaming, Belvedere help me. It is a cute pattern with a hood and a front pocket, so we'll see. I shelved the top-down one for the time being, since I am not into it, I figure I will wait until inspiration strikes. I do fear that there is definite potential for this WEBS yarn sweater to turn into an ugly camouflage thing, but I love the colors, despite their similarity to camo. I went back to that yarn, in that color, a dozen times. I took that as a good sign that it was meant to be. Kismit? We'll see.

After we shopping, we went to Viva Pasta Fresh for some, pasta friggen yum. I started with a salad and some sock knitting.



I know BeFri likes the food shots, and she doesn't consider salad a food, and certainly not a food worthy of a photo - but look at the pretty green salad and the matchiness to my sock. How can you resist? Our side of the table was constantly trying to fight the sun beam that was intent on zapping us, hence the sunglasses on the sock. It was amusing to me at the time. Anywho, I didn't get a picture of my meal. I inhaled that puppy so fast I don't think my camera has a shutter speed that could have caught the food as it flew of my plate into my belly.

True or False

George Michael's album Faith is a good album to blare on long car rides. FALSE. It is a GREAT album to listen to on long car rides. Yes, yes, I know, BUT ... "I'm talking it back to the old school / 'Cause I'm an old fool who's so cool" - Tag Team, Whoomp There It Is

I cannot knit a sock without having to rip out some part of it at least once. TRUE. I did a new type of short row heel on my Feather & Fan sock and hated it. I've ripped it out and am considering my options.

It takes two hours and forty-five minutes to drive to central Jersey from central Connecticut. FALSE. It takes my husband two hours and forty-five minutes, it takes me two hours and ten minutes.

If you are my "boss," you are an asshole. TRUE. Denying someone pay for bereavement time because 1) she just took two days bereavement time a few months ago and 2) it was an in-law that died, is assholeian. Extra so, in light of the fact that YOU took/received a bereavement day when your boyfriend of one minute's mother died. She was NOT related to you at all, not even by marriage and you knew her for like, a month, as opposed to fourteen YEARS. And the same thing about your neighbor's mother's dead boyfriend. You had NEVER EVER met him. If you get the time, so should the rest of us. Asshole.

Eating asparagus can make your pee smell funny. TRUE. This is because of the way the sulfur containing amino acids in the asparagus break down during digestion. But this smelly phenomena doesn't happen to everyone. In case you were curious.

If you normally drive sixty-five miles per hour but decide to take a walk on the wild side and ramp it up to seventy, you are now entitled to drive in the fast lane/left lane. FALSE. Seventy is still too slow. And, you're an asshole. Do I work for you?

If you make a detailed list of things you want to look for during your very first ever trip to WEBS, and you believe you are totally ready for your shopping spree, you will find at least one new project that you MUST make tout de suite that will end up costing hundreds of unbudgeted dollars. TRUE. See Dragonfly Sweater. (Note that this is especially distressing because I didn't even know I had some freaky fondness for the dragonfly until I saw this sweater. What else is lurking inside of me that I don't know about? Besides asparagus, I know about that one.)

If you refer to you female dog as your dog-ter (a play on the word daughter) and comment on how much you love her and are looking forward to driving with her for hours, some might think you have an sick warped unusual fondness for dog turd. TRUE. Dogter sounds a lot like Dog Turd. Dogbert, Dogalina, Baby Girl, or that-bitch-that-chewed-on-my-sneakers she shall be.

It is not weird to stop a microwave with seconds to spare because you do not like the beep-beep-beep it makes when it finishes naturally. TRUE. It maybe be annoying to the people who have use the microwave after you and have to clear out your leftover seconds, but it is not weird. It's not!

Buying a Louis Vuitton because you're sad, not because you need it is totally reasonable. TRUE.

Making an "X" out of honey-mustard sauce on your White Castle chicken sandwich over the ring or "O" of chicken and saying, "Awww, I hug and kiss you sandwich" as you shove it full-on into your mouth, is proper food etiquette. FALSE. But is sure is fun!

Knitting for half of a day at your desk, instead of working, is bad. FALSE. This is totally cool if your evil boss is out for the day and you completed an appropriate amount of work earlier.