Who Knew

I had no idea that diapers expire. And, I'm not sure what exactly happens if you use one after it expires. But I am sure that I returned these bad boys. Because whatever it is that does happen when you use an expired diaper, it can't be good.

Replacements

Several months ago my husband threw my handknit socks in the dryer, though most survived, my most favoritest did not. They shrunk and felted and were basically reduce to midget size.

Unrelated Tangent I: While searching for my finished object/picture post of the now-midget socks, I came across this post. Look how much I had knit. That is damn near an entire pair of socks. I look at them and love the color of the yarn and the pattern and yet I ripped them out and gave the yarn away. I see over there on my sidebar area under Bad Knitting Karma that I said, "No matter how much I knit them, I didn't like them." Query: WHAT THE FUCK WAS I SMOKING?

Back to our regularly scheduled post ... As I was saying, favorite chevron socks + dryer = midget socks ∴ Jenna sad. So sad, that I knit another pair. Sort of. Though I still have the pattern, I didn't have any more of that yarn left. I ended up using some really Spring-ish yarn that I received in trade. I can tell you nothing of this yarn as it came to me in a ball and with absolutely no identifying information. I can tell you that it will be avoiding the dryer ... just to be safe.


Ain't they purty? I have to say that I like the originals better, but these aren't bad. If you look closely, you can see that the stripes even match up. That was intentional. It is also a sign of my crumbling mental state. It's not like this was real striped yarn that needed to match up. No, it was pseudo striped yarn and I am bonkers.

Unrelated Tangent II: When was the last time you used the word bonkers? Seriously. It is a great word. I vote we all try to use once a day. All in favor say, "Aye!" Right, and the crickets chirped. Bitches.

Back to the socks, yet again. So. Pretty yarn. Pretty socks. Matching stripes. I like the socks just fine, but they leave me short of orgasm. Nothing too awesome. No need to write home.


Though I won't write home, I will wear them. I will also note that I knitted these at the same time (a la Jenna which means not at the EXACT same time but rather, toe, toe, foot, foot, gusset, gusset, heel, heel, leg, leg, cuff, cuff) and from one ball of yarn which means I pulled from the middle. Those who know me know that this was nothing short of a miracle because even when I don't pull from the middle of the ball, my yarns tend to do this. So there you have it.



Yarn: Je ne sais pas!
Needles: Addi Circs, size 2.5 mm (US 1)
Pattern: Chevron Socks, Sensational Knitted Socks. Modified to be toe-up with a gusset and heel that I learned in the Gazillion Dollar Sock Class.
Time: A month.
Care: Hand wash cold, dry flat because I don't know what this yarn is.

Count the Ways

#15,874th way to freak out your husband:



Start to organize your nail polish 'stash' but don't finish before he gets home.

Duet

My MiL is here for a visit with her favorite (and obviously best) granddaughter which is quite nice. Said granddaughter is turning one this Friday and having a party to celebrate same on Saturday. Also, quite nice. The house (mine, as in where the party is being held, not say, the house that Ruth built) is not ready for a party, and this, this is not quite nice. In other words, Holy Shit my house is a mess and twenty-five people are going to come over for LB's birthday and find out we live like pigs. Instead of bitching about our sty-like conditions, I should be cleaning them. After all, my child has a playmate which relieves me of that duty (duty ... doodie ... heh, I am seven) and I have time to remove the hairballs gathering under the buffet. Instead of doing this, I am hiding in the office, checking my e-mail (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) and doing everything possible BUT clean. Which is not to say I have not cleaned. For I have. A lot. For example, I removed the nobs from the stove and cleaned underneath them. Now that, THAT is cleaning. Which, I guess is not "a lot" of cleaning. But still. It doesn't explain why I am sitting here, overwhelmed by the wafting stench of the stinkiest cat poop ever (which was really mean of the cat - he saw me in here and was like, Sooooo what? I gotta pooh and this is where my box is suckah). Nothing could explain it. Sheer laziness? I know not. What I do know is that I have killed five whole minutes with this drivel despite the need for gas mask. Go me. And, so as to kill five more minutes, let me tell you about my BRILLIANT anniversary gifts.

As I have mentioned before, we try to do the gift thing in accordance with official guidelines. Which, yah, not so official. But whatever. So this year the things were wood and silverware. In case you were wondering, these things SUCK. I've been married five years and THIS is what the universe deems appropriate. Suck it universe! But, being a sheep, and incapable of developing a thought of my own, I went with the guidelines. Wood? Easy. Toothpicks and matches. Done. Silverware? Now that is hard. Well, I suppose if we didn't have twelve place settings of perfectly fine silverware, then it would not have been hard as I would have just bought silverware. But we do have silverware, fancy and plain, and the last time I checked my husband was a "man's man" and had absolutely no interest in acquiring a new silver pattern, which meant that silverware was hard. I say was because, DUDES, I rock. Drum roll please ... For our fifth wedding anniversary gift, I got Boo some silverunderware. I KNOW. Brilliant. So long as you whisper "under" it is all good! In case you are curious, Boo was much more 'in the box' getting me a nice wooden picture frame and a cheese knife set. He did get creative and gave me a cheap wooden picture frame, with a picture of his friend in it, a friend who's last name is Wood. But I have to say if you put his Wood against my silverunderware, I get the vote for most creative. Granted silverunderware was his "real" gift, so I also get the vote for "cheap ass" and "least exciting anniversary gift ever." But hey, you win some and you lose some. And on that note, I shall shimmy out of here and clean because HOLY FUCK, WHAT DID THE CAT EAT?

Loser

Dear Pitt,

You owe me $5.

Sincerely,
Dumb Ass Who Picked You to go ALL THE WAY.

Grub

It has been awhile since I have been to a McDonald's. Ever since it farted around with the fry recipe I've been less enthusiastic about clogging my arteries with its offerings, its tasty tasty offerings. Which sounds kind of high brow ... or maybe it doesn't, but it's true. In times past I have eaten two large fries, with a side of bar-b-que sauce si vous plait, for dinner. But now, eh. Which, in reality, has not much to do with the following, but give me a break, it has been awhile since I've dipped my toes into the blogging pool.

So. McDonald's. I ask, WTF?



This is some really disturbing packaging. I mean, honestly, am I suppose to eat a nugget now? You've drawn me this sweet little chicken picture that practically screams, "Don't eat me!" and then you have an arrow to a bag of flour ... the proverbial casket of the cute but soon-to-be dead chicken. THIS is appetizing?

Um ... ?

Remember THE Christmas stocking? The stocking that I truly had a love/hate relationship with? And do you remember the designer of the stocking? The designer who thought I was a moron for wet blocking the stocking? The designer who was going to send me a replacement kit as an act of goodwill despite my supposed dimness? 'Member that? Well, last night as I was  lying   laying  lounging in bed, I realized ... FUCK GOOD WILL! She never sent me the stocking kit.

Also, and totally unrelated to the above, I think I may be stuck in the 90's.



Since when did $1.69 become a "GREAT PRICE" for a two liter jug of Coke? $1.69 is great? Really? That seems like a rip-off gas station/convenience store price to me. 99¢? Now that is a GREAT PRICE.

And also unrelated to both of the above, but lingering in my subconscious because of the use of the word "great" ...



Check out my baby's hair do!?! Now that is Grrreeeaaatt! I took that picture with my CrackBerry and didn't think the quality would be all that great (which it's not, obviously, no duh, I KNOW), so I busted out the "real camera." And yes, I use "scare quotes" because my camera is only real in the sense that it takes pictures. It is a point and click and not anything like the real deals that Stalkarazzi use and that I covet. But I digress, I busted out the camera that is only a camera and not a phone and yet, the pictures, still pretty phone like in quality ...



Anyway, I liked the hair do. It made me smiled but LB screamed her lungs empty when I made? crafted? concocted? placed? (what does one do to a ponytail?) the ponytail, and thus, it was loose and was undone before we left the house.

A (bad) Poem

Nose, congested to the umpteenth degree. Air does not pass.
Daughter, napping finally. Screamed herself to sleep.
Husband, feverish and working. Needs to feel better soon.
Ceiling, being painted. It better not suck.
Knitting, a possibility this eve. If I live that long.

Scrummy Yummy

If yarn were drugs then my personal heroin would be Artyarns cashmere. It's not the softest cashmere, it's not the most expensive or most luxe. Nonetheless, it tickles my fancy and I love me some Artyarns cashmere. Douse it in a poison green color and DAYUM!



Several months ago when Zazu started knitting up a scarf in poison green Artyarns cashmere ... well, I was green. With envy. Not nausea. It is a good heroin. It does me right. Anywho, I (of course) was going to be a big ole copy cat and get me some of my own smack pronto. Only it was not for sale. ANYWHERE. Not where Zazu bought it. Not on the internet. Not nowhere. Now you have to understand, I SEARCHED. At first, I checked the store. I figured it would be there. But it wasn't. And the proprietor thought I might have been delusional as she had no recollection of the yarn. Then I looked on the internet. Nothin'. Then on Artyarns site. Nope. I finally deduced that the color was 131 and that Artyarns didn't do cashmere in that color anymore. Which was nice to know but not the least bit useful as I was trying to acquire some.



So I did what any unself respecting junkie would do, I drooled all over Zazu's scarf and rubbed on it whenever I could. Every time I saw her I would ask about my scarf. I would fluff it and smell it and dream of abducting it. In the end, whether it was my puppy dog eyes, or the foam at my mouth, when Zazu finished her scarf she promptly gave me her leftovers (and oddly enough didn't tell me that now I could shut the hell up! Which is a sign that she is not only very generous, but also patient as I may have been a teeny bit annoying.)



Once I had the scrummy yummy goodness in my hot little hands I wasn't sure what to do with it. I knew I wanted to used EVERY LAST bit so a proper pattern probably wasn't gonna do since I didn't know how much I had. And then Zazu stepped up again with a pattern for a child's neck warmer from Knitting to Go. When you think about it, this is a great idea, as you can't give a baby a scarf because of the whole choking/hanging hazard. I mean, I'd feel pretty bad if I knit my child a method of death. That would be no good.



The pattern is a four stitch repeat of purl three, knit one, and it is knit in the round. As I am lazy and would rather knit, I knit it inside out and did knit three, purl one. When I was done I flipped it and, Voila! The pattern does have specs and measurements, but I seriously wanted to knit until I was almost out of yarn so I did my own thing. When I thought I used as much as I could, I used the EZ sewn bind off and then weaved in my end. My end was kind of long but I was not going to cut the yarn ... MUST USE ALL OF YUMMY YARN. So the tail, it weaves in for a complete round. As in, all the way around. It's all good though.

Once LB's melon is too big to get the neckwarmer over, I plan to rip this out and do something else. For myself. Maybe by then I will have a yarn meter measurer and can find out how much I have. Or maybe I will just make up my own thing as I go.



Yarn: Artyarns, Cashmere 5, Color CS131, Zazu's leftovers
Needles: two Susan Bates Circ, size 3.75 mm (US 5)
Pattern: Based on the neckwarmer in Knitting to Go
Modifications: Used my own number of stitches.
Time: One month.
Care: No idea.

Happy New Year

I made black-eyed peas to ring in the new year, like I usually do. This year I went with a Texas Caviar recipe which has black-eyed peas and black beans. It was delish and gone within a day so sorry, no pictures. Instead, a question. How is it that the child I carried in my womb for nine months during which time we ate boatloads of refried beans, black beans, and garbanzo beans, the child who was called The Bean and Lady Bean, doesn't like beans?

W is for ...

Weather appropriate knitwear. Yah, I am stretching it here for the abc-along but dudes! I'm running out of time. I knit my MiL the Spiral Hat from 101 Designer One-Skein Wonders. I wanted to take pictures so that I could send it off quick so that it gets to her in time for her birthday which is in two days. Which meant I had to hurry. Which meant I did a photo shoot in the bathroom. Which meant I didn't have time to shower and get all done up. Which meant that when my hair was down I looked like Slash.



Looking like Slash has advantages I'm sure, probably, for someone, but it seemed like all that hair was distracting from the hat. Unfortunately, without all that hair, I kind of took on a phallic form. Looking like a giant phallus? Also distracting from the hat.



I tried to get a picture of the back of the hat, I got two! Bonus!



After a quick scan of the photos, I realized that the lighting was off. Way off. So I moved to the other bathroom. But I was sick of the hat photo shoot by then and started farting around. I ended with a picture of the Cat in the Hat. It amused me!



So. I knit a hat for my MiL. I tried to have it done by Christmas but I cannot knit a hat in the time it takes to drive to New Joisey, so ix-nay on the hristmas-Cay resent-pay. It was really easy to knit and now I am gonna try to get it to her for her birthday. She can wear it in the winter, thus it will be weather appropriate. The End!



Yarn: Filatura Di Crosa, Sympathie, Color 3, Lot 3082, part of 2 skeins (note: I double-stranded the yarn). This is the same yarn I used to knit LB's sweater.
Needles: Susan Bates Circ, size 5.0 mm (US 8)
Pattern: Spiral Hat
Modifications: None.
Time: Three days.
Care: Hand wash cold and dry flat in shade or dry clean.

Satan Claus

As noted, I did in fact finish LB's stocking in time for Christmas. One might say it was a Christmas miracle considering all of the trials and tribulations it took to get to the finish line. In any event, come Christmas Eve, the stocking was hung by the chimney with care. A WHOLE LOT OF CARE! And, it made it to Christmas morning still full and still hanging.



Let's start with the good. I love this stocking. I think it's beautiful. I feel like it is whimsical and fun, yet not overly childish. Something LB will enjoy as a kid and appreciate as an adult. I love the design. I love the angora on Santa's beard and eye brows. I love the bedazzled bits. I love the little single stitches on the foot that look like hearts. Visually this stocking just does me right.



The knitting of the stocking was quite easy. Having knit a gazillion socks I did have some stocking-like experience. Nonetheless, I felt that the pattern was clear, straight forward, and easy to follow. The pattern was well written ... sort of. There was a small glitch. The pattern, a stock pattern for all of the stockings made by the company, is written for a stocking knit from the top down. The sample picture of this stocking, however, is of a stocking knit toe up. So though the pattern is great, it isn't exactly like the picture which might make someone, say someone neurotic and detail-oriented like me, twitchy. It isn't a huge difference, but it irked me. It made my eye twitch. I really wanted the foot stitches to be oriented to look like hearts. Also, I felt the snow looked more melty when they were oriented in the toe-up way. So after my first goof, I re-knit the stocking from the toe up. I used basic toe-up sock stuff, like a star toe done with increases instead of decreases, but used the pattern's stitch numbers. I also knit the stocking in the round, up to the chimney.



The bedazzling was also pretty easy. I felt like you needed a little intuition to make the package bows, but it worked out fine. I'm not such a great seamstress so the antlers and the chimney cement are not prefect, but they are good enough. In the end the bedazzled bits make me smile and feel all warm and squishy.

But even though I have a whole lot of love for the stocking, I also have a whole lot of fuckin-piece-of-shit-asshole for it too. Here's the bad. There was the whole bleeding thing. That REALLY upset me. When it dried and was still pretty pink, I wrote to the company, which I think is actually one woman. I first wrote on December 11, explaining what happened, noting that the instructions specifically said to block the stocking and asking for a miracle cure or a new stocking kit.

The response was not exactly what I expected. The woman stated that you never wet block anything red and recommended I use Rit dye remover or Synthrapol. She also noted that, "I did not state that items should not be wet blocked, probably because I have never thought of wet blocking anything, other than just lightly spraying an item with a fine mist, or as I said, lightly steaming it. I have washed many of these stockings with no problem, but I always use a really good wool wash like Eucalan." Ironically, I had wet blocked Monsieur Stocking in Eucalan. Not ironically, she made me feel like a dumbass.

I was unable to find a Rit dye remover that said it was okay for colors. The ones I found said for whites only or stated that they would fade colors. Not really viable options. I also did not find any Synthrapol. I ended up using Rit white brightener which stated that it was color safe. When that helped, but didn't solve the problem, I used Sharon's Solution (aside: I really like this for yellowed heirlooms like linen table cloths; it's never done me wrong). After using both (separately), a lot of the pink was out and most of the grey was out too. Unfortunately, some of the fibers were weakened so that several of the floats snapped. Or rather disintegrated. This happened in the foot area of the stocking, which got me all pissed off again, since the foot is what takes the weight of all of the stuff in the stocking. I was able to tie off all of the floats, or weave them in when there wasn't enough to tie off, so that the stocking looked okay from the outside.



At this point I didn't have enough time to knit a new stocking, had I even had one to knit, so I decided to proceed as planned and hope for the best. I bedazzled Sir Stocking and stitched him up. Oh how I suck at mattress stitch. My sucktastic mattress stitching is not the stocking's fault though.

Once the stocking was done, it was time for the liner. I had a friend sew the lining on her sewing machine (thanks Zazoo!!) and we made it smaller than the stocking itself.



I thought that if I made the lining slightly smaller than the stocking, it would take the brunt of the weight of all of the goodies inside. I am sure that LB will be quite irked by this when she is older and her stocking only holds one toothbrush and three chocolate kisses. In any event, once the lining was done, I hand-stitched it into the stocking. Let me re-phrase that, I stitch the ever-lovin-shit out of that bad boy. I figured that the smaller sized lining would do me no good if it fell into the stocking so I REALLY sewed it on. In hindsight I think that since the white floats snapped, and not the main red ones, the stocking probably won't fall apart if it gets weighed down. But I am a safety girl, so the smaller lining stays. Also, there is no way in hell I am unstitching it. I am so done with the stocking.

On Christmas Eve the stocking company woman wrote me, asking how the stocking was doing. I explained what I had done, down to the smaller liner, indicated I was stitching it in that night and hoping for the best. She responded by asking that I send her the stocking after the holidays and indicating that she would send me a new kit. Um, ??? I just spent a month of my life in high anxiety getting this stocking together. My daughter then used it for her first Christmas. I ain't giving it up. So I told her that I didn't want to give it up. I thought maybe she thought I had been trying to scam a free stocking kit from her, so I attached pictures of the parts where the red dye was still noticeable. She, however, didn't care about that and wanted the stocking so she could send it to the yarn manufacturer to show them the broken/disintegrated bits. Despite my refusal to send the stocking to her, she is still offering me another stocking kit. Quite frankly, I think this is the right thing to do but the wrong time to do it. If she was going to replace the stocking, she should have done it back on December 11. The whole exchange makes me feel a little weird. There is nothing overt, she never says, "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT. YOU ARE A MORON." but that is kinda the vibe I get. Maybe it is the tone of the e-mails? Maybe I am just sensitive? For whatever reason, my panties are bunched. Which, incidentally, totally annoys me because I love the stocking. I'd recommend the kits. I'd knit another. But yet ... grrr.

So that is the story of the stocking. But for the part where it is apparently demonic.



Both my husband and his brother feel that I have created Satan Claus, not Santa Claus. When Boo first mentioned this to me, I almost choked on the M&M (peanut butter of course) I was eating. He said something along the lines of, "It looks great but what's the deal with Satan Claus?" After dislodging the M&M from my esophagus, I laughed. I thought he was talking about all of the crap that I went through to get this stocking done ... like it was possessed by the devil or something. But no. He means that Santa looks like he wants to suck your soul right out of your body, and feast on your kidneys for desert. Something about the eyes or the eyebrows ... he can't pinpoint it. He just feels like his mortality is in danger if he looks Mister Claus in the eyes. Trying to disprove such silliness, I asked BiL5 his thoughts while he was here. He was solidly in the Satan camp. Bastard!



Yarn: Elegant Heirlooms, Googleheims Stocking Kit purchased from Angelika's Yarn Store
Needles: Addi Turbo Lace Circs, size 3.25 mm (US 4)
Pattern: "Here I Go"
Modifications: Knit toe-up. Knit some of it in the round. Added extra stripe around white name band so both top and bottom had a red and green stripe. Added bells to reindeer collar. Made Santa evil.
Time: One and a half months.
Care: Prayer.

Joyous Festivus For the Rest of Us

The Danny DeVito of Christmas trees wishes you a happy holiday ...



And notes that even the dimmest, most flattering lighting can't make one look all that much taller and thinner ...



For those that are extremely observant, you might notice that LB's stocking is hung by the chimney with care. It was done in time and will get it's own   rant   blog post soon!

Oh and in case you doubt the Danny Devitoness of our tree, I refer you to Slim Shady of 2006.

UPS

Dear UPS Man:

Please accept my apology for flashing you my milky white legs. I know they stood out spectacularly against my black underwear and stained hot pink tee shirt. It was not my intention to great you sans pants. When I saw your truck and heard the bell ring, I thought you were ringing and running. I had no idea that you would still be in my driveway, let alone at my door awaiting my signature when I flung open my front door. Had I known, I never would have answered the door without my pants on. Heck, if I was expecting a delivery I would not have been pantsless while standing on the ladder in the middle of the huge picture window next to my front door, re-hanging my drapes. Honestly, I typically wear pants around strangers.

In any event, in addition to offering my apology, I would also like to offer my thanks. The fact that you maintained eye-contact, and played along with me, never acknowledging my pantsless state, the entire time I was signing your electronic whodickey was quite professional. If it was up to me, I would award you some type of UPS professionalism award for that.

Again, I'm sorry and thanks!
- SPR

MIA

Dear Unknown Entity/Force:

Please quitting eating our socks, one at a time. If you really must, and by must I mean that you really need to eat our socks, this is a survival issue and not something you and your pals are doing for a good time, if you really must eat our socks, could you just take a pair? If one fills you up, save the other for later. A snack or even desert? If that's not good, then maybe you could store the extras, a baby sock might be an amuse-bouche next time? It would really be quite kind of you as this current one-at-a-time thing is making my eye twitch.

Sincerely,
SPR

P.S. Also, have you seen the middle of the foam O?

Pavarotti

Today was a day of errands, which, in and of itself, not very noteworthy. It
was a day of errands which I ran with child in tow, which is also not very noteworthy, but pertinent to the story.

So after several hours and many stores, LB and I found ourselves at Lowe's looking at stuff for the bathroom re-model. She was at the end of her rope having run a lot of errands but she was trying to keep it together. We had picked out our medicine cabinet and a few other doodads and I was thinking it was about time to get her out of the store when it hit me. And by it, I mean the overwhelming need to go to the bathroom RIGHT NOW! Do not stop, do not pass go, go NOW! Something had broken and needed immediate evacuation if you get my drift. Which, had I been home would have been no problem. Had I been at Lowe's by myself, or with LB and Boo, unpleasant, but still not a problem. But no, I am there with my infant, who is hermetically sealed into our shopping cart with some hippiedippie keep my kid germ-free seat, and a boatload, or cartload, of unpaid merchandise. Now there was no way I was going to be able to do what I had to do with LB on my lap which meant she had to come in with me. Which also meant that the cart was coming in too. But my cart was FULL and there was a big red sign saying not to bring "unpaid merchandise" into the loo. Unfortunately time was of the essence and there was no handy dandy table to load up with my unpaid merchandise, so me, I'm a badass. I looked right at that sign and I laughed, oh yes, I laughed as I pushed my unpaid merchandise laden cart right through that restroom door. Which you would think would be the end of the story ... Ha! Ha! Jenna pulled a George Costanza and brought stuff into the can. But no, there is more!

So into the loo we go and I am hurrying and I wheel us down into the handicap stall with the fervent hope that the kid and the cart will fit in the stall. Which, thankfully, they do. So, in we go. Everything goes smoothly and I am doing what I went in there to do, but while I am doing it I am talking to LB. Or, rather, I am providing her with commentary, via song. And she is not saying anything. Being that she was in the cart and I was, well, seated, we were at eye level and she is just staring at me with her "Dance for me Clown!" face. And I know that if I don't perform well the kid is going to lose her shit. So I am singing and I am making stuff up as I go, but it is hard to sing about things of a certain nature so maybe, just maybe, when I was finishing up, there might have been a verse which was something along the lines ... "Tee hee! I farted! Toot! Toot!" And that would be when a toilet a few doors down flushed.

Apparently in my hurry to get to the handicap stall, I neglected to notice that there was someone else in there. Needless to say, I felt a little dumb. But, being a mature adult, comfortable with the fact that I am human and do what humans do, I didn't say anything. No, instead, I waited (hid) until I heard the random woman open the main door to exit my stall. I figured she would never see us and I could escape unseen, if not unheard. Unfortunately my timing was off, as was my luck, and so time slows down and this woman looks over her shoulder towards my stall as she is exiting and she sees this huge, filled to capacity cart, emerge from the handicap stall. Then she sees the kid in the front. Then she sees me. And, what does she do? Does she keep going and leave? No! Does she, having made eye contact, totally inappropriate eye contact, smile and then leave? No! She stops, coos at LB and then says to me, "What a beautiful little girl!" Lady, I just committed some sort of crime against nature in that stall, and I sang about it, OUT LOUD, to my kid and you want to talk to me? Seriously?

Pitiful

I haven't looked at the stocking yet so we're not gonna talk about that.

No, instead, let me tell you about the most pitiful e-mail that I've seen in a long time! It went out to our knitting group and was concerning food for our holiday party. Due to allergies, pregnancy, nursing, and general health stuff, we have some food restrictions. Doesn't seem like a big deal right? Well, when you speak to one person with one issue, isn't such a bad thing. But, when you line them up all together, HOLY CRAP!

Amongst ten or so people we have folks who can't do dairy, gluten, nuts, wheat, corn, potato, sugar or eggs. We also have a vegetarian and a sorta-vegetarian (though, quite frankly, I think this category is lame and should not exist because you either eat the animal or you don't, the end. Eating only chicken or only fish or only bacon makes you NOT a vegetarian ... you might be picky but you are not a vegetarian since the definition of a vegetarian is one who does not eat meat, fish, fowl, or, in some cases, any food derived from animals, as eggs or cheese, but subsists on vegetables, fruits, nuts, grain, etc. According to Wikipedia there are semi-vegetarian diets like flexitarian but I have to say that I think the internet made this shit up. I'm a flexitarian? Bah! Just man up and say you are a picky eater. And, this is all I have to about that!) and a total anti-vegetarian. Seriously? I'm not even sure that if we went to a restaurant that we could find someplace that could feed everyone. Initially, before this e-mail went out, I planned to make the good ole stand-by cheesy-chicken crescent rolls. In light of the list, this knocks out the no gluten people, the no wheat people, the no dairy people, and the vegetarian and it might knock out the sorta-vegetarian, so basically I'd need to make like three crescent rolls ... Boo would be happy because he would get a lot of leftovers but it wouldn't be very holiday spiritish. Someone jokingly suggested that we each just bring our own meal and I was like FOR REALS YO! I like me some meat and cheese. Wrap in a bread product and hot-friggin-damn! Can you say cheesy pigs in a blanket? But again, not in that holiday spirit.

Having been on a no-sugar lo-carb diet when I was pregnant, I understand how much it sucks to go to a party and not be able to eat anything ... also, don't want to be a Screw-Everybody-Scrooge so I've racked my brain and I think I have a food everyone can eat ... duh duh duh! Babies! It's really just a modest proposal I came up with. Ha! Just kidding. Though my kid is pretty tasty. She kind of tastes like chicken which would knock out the veggie head!

No seriously, my food idea? Beans! Now, I can't re-fry the beans and smother them in cheese, or veggies, or sour cream, which actually makes the prep very easy. Buy can of beans. Open can of beans. Dump can of beans in disposable holiday dish and bring to party. Done!

Willful Blindness

Sent husband into guest room to look at stocking, still can't look myself. His take: it doesn't look awful. It's just not super white. It looks like an heirloom (actually, he said old, but I assume he was going for a good old and not a bad one). Maybe I will look tomorrow.

Seriously?

I just wet blocked LB's stocking, v. 2. This was a huge mistake. Let me re-phrase that, WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST DO? The pretty white snow dripping into the foot? Pink. The crisp white background framing the black letters of her name? Gray. Turns out the colors bled ... and stuck. No amount of rinsing seems to help. If you can guess the number of times I yelled fuck in my laundry room, I'll give you a dollar. I decided wine might make everything better. But we don't have any. I then decided to pin it out on the guest room bed (i.e., my blocking board) and hope that sometime tonight the yarn fairies come out and rescue the stocking. Maybe by putting my folly out here on the internet, karma will come wafting in the window and blow out the bad color? Gah! It's not that this is a particularly difficult knit, or that it is all that time consuming, and maybe the third time would be the charm, but you know what the second time was really kinda nice. Hell and damn.

Off

We bought our Christmas tree yesterday. We, well me, the decision maker, wanted a tall skinny tree. We went to a new place where they were very helpful in trying to find the perfect tall skinny tree. They showed me a dozen trees, even holding some up side-by-side. So how is it that I left the housing seeking Gisele Bündchenhen but came home with Danny DeVito?