Knit Picky

1-2-3-4 Tell Me That You Love Me More...

2008-10-14T18:28:00.000-07:00

1
Cyst-that-was-not-a-cyst-after-all

2
Surgeries

3
Weeks out of work

4
Doctors

It's been 1 helluva year

Here Bloggie, Bloggie, Bloggie

2008-04-11T13:50:00.000-07:00

The last couple of weeks have been very strange. A weird combination of really bad and kinda good and a lot of thinking and making decisions and getting well and truly tired of stupid people. Vague enough, for you?

Well, here's two bad and one good to give you some insight as to where my head is (oh, and you'll probably read this and think "My GOD, when will she stop with the whining?!" For that, I apologize.)

Thing the FIRST--I've titrated off of my anti-anxiety and anti-depression meds and it's turning out to be very hard. I'm finding out that I'm not nearly as nice (or at least well-balanced) as I was on them. I did really well for the first month or so, so I didn't worry about it. Then I started having truly depths-of-the-blues kinds of days. I felt like everyone was against me--for instance, my boss sent me what seemed to be an unnecessarily critical email and she copied a bunch of people that didn't need to be involved in what should have been between us. I took it extremely personally.

The Boy tried to talk me down by telling me I was overreacting. Do you know how well someone who is overreacting takes the criticism that they are overreacting? Think about it.

I've also found myself filled with massive, mindless rage. I'm a pretty even-tempered person most of the time, and yet I was becoming an absolutely dangerous crazy person in the car. Honking, screaming at the top of my lungs (till my throat was raw and my voice affected), throwing things around the car. I was unspeakably angry all the time, and couldn't place it. I thought it was some ridiculously bad PMS (which I don't really get much, so that in itself would make it weird), but I've realized that this is all connected. Partly because with the rage comes crushing, massive sadness. I cried when the new TV didn't seem to work; when the woman on the freeway cut me off; when my co-worker said something that seemed unjust (though I did this in private, obviously).

Needless to say, this has not been easy. Sigh.

Thing the SECOND--Maybe connected to thing the first, maybe not, I'm finding myself really, really offended by my co-worker and he thinks he is just soooo funny. I think I've mentioned before that in my office we have a couple of women who have no discernible boundaries--flatulence, belching, talking about their sex lives; nothing is off-limits. Well, the biggest offender of all of them (a woman) is leaving. And I am SO relieved. Maybe my office will become a bit more respectable and professional. Evidently, the fact that I have these kinds of thoughts (that the office is not the place for some of this behavior) make me some kind of freak, and my (male) co-worker has decided to point this out to me. Every single day for two weeks.

He's making a video for the going-away and was coming up with little sketches for each of the people in the office that are supposed to epitomize their character or their persona in the office. He told me that he couldn't come up with one for me because I'm so dull. He said this like I should laugh with him. When I asked him what he meant, he said, "You know, you're not really a character. You're serious and don't laugh at their fart-jokes." I suppose I am dull if that's the definition!

My friend/co-worker and I were discussing this because she was accused of the same thing but she can just shake it off, whereas I can't seem to do so. We were both wondering what was wrong with being 'nice' or 'responsible' or you know, 'not gross.' I wish I could drop it, but I can't. Mostly because he won't. Each day he tells me how dull I am and why. I know it sounds stupid, but it's really hurting my feelings. Maybe I'm overreacting--see thing the first. But I just don't see how it's funny to denigrate someone who you're supposedly friends with (he and his wife and The Boy and I have gone out together, he always wants to talk all the time about the things we have in common--cats, interest in tech, Firefly/Serenity, etc.).

To top this all off, I found out that he asked someone from outside our office to participate in the video to do something pretty risque that the woman leaving is known for and she told him that she wasn't sure because she didn't want me to tell on her. WHAT???

Honey, if I'd wanted to bust any of you for inappropriate behavior, sexual innuendo or anything else, I would have done it long ago. OMG. !!

This, of course, makes me wonder what, exactly, my co-workers say about me outside the office. I'd say that--with the exception of them knowing my feelings on the fart machine and my discomfort with some of their topics that they feel the need to discuss at full volume during business hours while I'm on a business call--everyone gets along (or pretends to) really well. How disillusioning to find out that they really don't like me and in fact say nasty things about me behind my back.

I've suspected it all along. I mean, they've made no secret of the fact that they consider me hopelessly weird because I knit, talk about my hobby, love my husband, don't say all kinds of vulgar things about men--and women--I don't know, etc. But this hit me hard. Again, don't know why it should, but I think I'm a pretty good sport, go along with a lot of things and have put up with ALOT of crap for three years. Only to find out that I am a DULL NARC.

Sucks sucks sucks.

Thing the THIRD--I am more thankful than ever for my knitting group. (See the banner for OC Knitting Meetup Group at right ---->). It is seriously my therapy right now. When I am extremely down, feeling beaten by the world, don't think I can manage one more person, I go to my group and get rejuvenated. We are all so diverse, and yet some of us have a surprising (alarming?) number of things in common besides knitting. I don't know what I'd do without them.

I was reading Stephanie's new book and she talks about Stitch 'n Bitch or Knit Night groups and how we come together over knitting and form such a strong bond. Naturally this made me cry, thinking of my own group, but it's so true! I have been able to tell some of the women in the group both things one and two above, and gotten such nice responses and much-needed perspective (such as pointing out that I do indeed have a sense of humor; it's just not the same as those of the people in my office). I can come to them with my health concerns, my anger, my pain, my feelings of self-righteousness, and they help straighten me out.

Fresh eyes and caring friends. Thank God for them! They're keeping me sane right now.

The Return of Freaky Friday! (a.k.a. Coming Up For Air)

2008-03-14T14:00:00.000-07:00

Well, the work nightmares have mostly come to an end, but then I got sick. Stupid cold. Who gets a cold at the beginning of spring? I don't even know anyone else who's sick! Ugh.

Anyway...it has come to my attention (probably ridiculously belatedly) that Freaky Fridays don't necessarily need to involve me injuring myself; they can just involve ways in which I've embarassed myself, or been embarassed. These instances, my friends, are countless.

So, bring on the shame!

Several years ago, when I was a young'un (in middle school, I believe), we were invited to have Christmas Eve dinner with mom's then-boyfriend's family (sister? cousin?). [Yeah, I'm nothing if not timely with the holiday tales] I dubbed then-boyfriend Slimey because a) it rhymed with his actual name, and b) it oh-so-aptly described him. So mom dragged my sister and I to Slimey's Family Christmas. [World's worst/best ever book title?]

As we were heading out the door from home mom instructed me to grab a present for each of us (my sister and I) from under the tree so that we too would have something to open while Slimey's family exchanged all their gifts. [Do you have any idea how a surly pre-teen felt knowing that the whole family would be exchanging gifts and we'd each have one measly one? Not good, that's how.] Mom pointed to a couple of gifts, "Grab those! Let's go!"

Many hours later, gift giving finally commenced. Because I think I was in college before mom stopped giving my sister and I matching gifts [come to think of it, has that practice stopped??], we were always directed to open our gifts at the same time. And because we were the guests at the Slimey Family Christmas, all eyes were on us as we opened our matching purses. With a slightly puzzled look on her face, mom said, "I'm pretty sure I wrapped another gift inside each of those purses. Open them!"

We waited for the news to spread throughout the room, and again, everyone stopped what they were doing and focused on us. It was with some excitement that we ripped into those purses because usually a gift within a gift meant something really cool--a charm bracelet? earrings? Just as my hand closed around something cloth-like, mom gasped. And I pulled out of the purse, for all to see, UNDERWEAR. Oh, yes. Several pairs of girly, cotton underwear.

The crowd tittered; mom [to her credit] looked really, really sorry for pushing us to open the gift for the throngs of not-our-own-family; I probably turned bright red.

And then my sullen, surly, pre-teen angst re-asserted itself and I was really, really pissed. Dude, there were cute teenage boys, older, cute teenage boys not related to me, at that party. And they'd just seen my pink, flowery panties! And not in a way that was going to make any of them think about asking me out [my sole goal in life as a surly pre-teen].

*************************

I know it doesn't seem like it, but there has been much knitting going on. Socks, of course; a baby sweater to welcome a sweet little girl (and she'll be able to wear it next winter--my gauge may have been a wee bit off); squares for a blanket for the sweet little girl; seaming the whole blanket of motley squares for the sweet little girl and made by the knitting group (4"x6" means something entirely different to everyone, it turns out); the beginning (and end) of a sweater in which the yarn just would not make gauge; and finally, the beginning of a new sweater. There were probably some other things, but I can't recall them.

I also threw a baby shower for the first time (is it normal to put yourself into the poor house with your efforts?). So.Much.Fun. I've been doing some exciting events with the OC Knitting Meetup Group (I'm a co-organizer), including a yarn hop trip to San Diego. And probably other stuff that I can't think of because I need to get back to work and see the stack of "To Dos" looking at me accusingly.

Until next week, enjoy my mortification!

Look Into My Eyes. Deeeep Into My Eyes.

2008-02-27T14:46:00.000-08:00

Hi. I'm Mei Mei.

The Giant Pink Hairless Cats(TM) took me in a few months ago when The Boy one found me wandering around their building crying.

Sucker! Like I hadn't seen the sweet life being led by the other two furballs in their apartment and planned my 'in'. These simple-minded creatures are so easy to manipulate.

Anyway, the girl GPHC(TM) suggested that I might be useful and type a quick note for you here to let you know that she's probably not going to be able to talk to you this week. I've heard her muttering words like "new fiscal year," "strategic planning," and "another damned quarter." That and the weeping and gnashing of teeth around here has nearly put me off my kibble.

Ha ha. Just kidding. Nothing makes me forego food.

You're probably wondering how a cool cat like me came to be typing you this note. Yeah, I've heard the old opposable thumb jokes. Let me tell you, I have paw-pettes (you call them something boring like 'fingers') and a tail. So, really, who is the challenged one??

Well, this is boring. I'm going to go look at Stuff On My Cat, eat some plastic mice and attack the white fluffy cat. I rule this place! Well, when that big, fat, scary girl cat isn't around anyway. She's mean!

Bye!

If it Ain't Scottish, it's Crrrrrap!

2008-02-22T12:27:00.000-08:00

Last Saturday The Boy and I went to the Scottish Festival on the Queen Mary here in Long Beach, CA. I love the Queen Mary*. I am also a big ol' dorky Anglophile, as you may recall, so this was a must-attend event for me.

First we watched the pipe and drum band parade.

I love bagpipes. No, really. No, really.
This was followed by the clan parade, but my people were not in attendance. At least, not officially. The clan MacClure (sometimes referred to as a sept family of the clan MacLeod) was not representing. Very disappointing for me, since I've only just discovered this connection, and I was looking forward to forcing my attentions on...erm, I mean, getting to know my kinsmen.

After the pipe and drum bands performed, we saw a military demonstration but we didn't get any pictures of that. Probably because we were far too busy covering our ears and cowering in fear at the loud booms coming from the 19th century cannon and machine gun (I'm sure there are more technical terms, but I don’t know them).

We then hightailed it for the sheep herding demonstration--naturally.

First they let the sheep out to just roam. Which they did.

Near...

And far...
Then they let out the Border Collie to demonstrate how the natural predator/prey instincts work for bringing the sheep to heel.

After seeing how effective the Border Collie was, they brought out a Schnauzer puppy to show that, though the Border Collie gets all the glory for this job, any dog with the right instincts can actually pull it off.

It was then time for the Bearded Collie to show us his stuff.

And where there are sheep...

I knew that my other people must be nearby. My fiber-loving friends. And I found her. A woman whose name I believe was Niamh, which I've always thought was one of the most awesome names ever because one of the two syllables sounds nothing like how it looks (it is pronounced: nee-ev). I love that. But I digress. The-woman-I-shall-call-Niamh was spinning.

I walked up to watch her. Now, I should mention that I've avoided fiber "in the raw" so to speak (non-yarn fiber) and all things spinning-related because I know me and my capacity for resisting new hobbies. (Which is somewhat on par with George Bush's ability to pronounce "nuclear" correctly.) So when Niamh offered to let me give spinning a try, I politely demurred. Then The Boy insisted I should try it. He really ought to have known better.

I had so much fun! I spent the rest of the day playing with my little bit of yarn.

After all that work (ahem), we were starved. So we headed back to the main area and found ourselves some delicious foods. We each got a plate, ate half, and then switched while we sat on the deck of the QM and listened to the bagpiper's competition below.

Savory pork pie. So.Good. Mashed potatoes and two veg. Yum!

Banger sandwich with onions on soft French bread. Mmmmmm.
Onboard the Queen Mary is a shake place (California Shakes) that has received accolades from all over for having the best ice cream shakes anywhere. We hit that place twice when we stayed on the QM last year, so we treated ourselves to a little shake action this time, too. No pics, though. We ate them too fast!

We then spent a good deal of time hunting down my family tartans and finding out that they were very expensive to buy when we had already spent a small fortune just to get in and park, so we didn't buy anything. And the shortbread place was out by the time we made it there—Scottish shortbread is so good; I think each piece uses a half-stick of butter! During our honeymoon through England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales, most of the hotels we stayed in provided little packets of Walker's Shortbread next to the coffee and teapots in the rooms. I took all of them and have since become quite addicted.

After all that, we finally said Adieu to the old gal and headed for Los Alamitos Bay Yarn Co. to pick up some gift yarn for Laura (wow, she's a worse blogger than me!). She is now 3 days past her baby due date and extremely grumpy. I made her a Lamb's Pride bouquet of bulky yarn. Early in her pregnancy she professed that she was going to be able to knit as quickly after the baby as she did before**, so I thought bulky yarn would be a good way to maintain the illusion of accomplishing a lot in less time.

Lamb's Pride in variegated jewel shades
Finally, at the end of the day, we hit Buster’s next door to Los Al. Buster's has amazing luau pork. If you're ever in the area, get some! And start with the voodoo chicken skewers; you won't be sorry.

While we waited for our food, I played with my new yarn, spun by my own (and Niamh's) hands.

Dudes! I made yarn!
All in all, a very good (long) day!

*She's located only about 45 miles from my house, but I hadn't been until I had to attend a postal seminar there last November. I fell in love with her for her history and old furnishings, and The Boy and I ended up spending a weekend onboard—she is a hotel, as well as a showpiece—and he fell for her too.
**You don't have to have a baby to know that probably ain't gonna happen!

Awwwwww, Shucks!

2008-02-20T15:13:00.000-08:00

You guys are so sweet! I feel so lucky to have such kind and thoughtful virtual friends. And who knew there were so many of you! Like, 8 or something!

I'm so happy to be back. I really have missed you. I even have a long-ish post in the works, but I don't think it's going to make it today. That would be because I had a doctor's appointment this morning that should have taken about 1 hour from beginning to arrival at work and instead took 2-1/2 hours from beginning to end and arrival at work. Le sigh.

Advice to you, my dear friends: if your doctor's office tells you the day before your appointment that they can move your appointment from 4:30pm to 9:30am and to the office closer to your work, make sure they also tell the doctor this. Mine didn't.

I was there at 9:30. My doctor was there at 10:15.

And she was totally unprepared to meet with me. I had had an MRA (like an MRI but of the blood vessels instead of the brain tissues), and she didn't have the report, hadn't looked at the CD yet and couldn't tell me very much. So instead I sat there even longer while she viewed the CD in her office and the lab faxed over the report to tell her that I am, in fact, fine.

You know, I'd kind of figured that out. Because if I had an incipient aneurysm on the horizon? It would have blown while I was waiting this morning!!

Ahem.

Tap, Tap...Is This Thing On?

2008-02-15T15:44:00.000-08:00

Oh, uh, hi. So...um...how ya doing?

So I sort of disappeared? Like, for a really long time? And I really miss you.

Do you think you might be willing to give it another try? I miss our talks. I miss sharing the important things with you. And the goofy things.

I don't want to make a bunch of excuses, but I've had some health stuff, and some depression stuff, and some work stuff, but I think I've gotten it all under control. And I'd like to see if we can bring back some of that old magic.

What do you say?

Will you take me back, innernets??

…And That Is Why You Should Never Show Your Boss Just How Capable You Really Are

2007-10-18T16:00:00.000-07:00

So...have you wondered where I was? Did you wonder if I was ever coming back? I did. Sigh.

I got a great review at work. Really great. So great, in fact, that my boss felt that I could take on more responsibility. Much more. So much more, in fact, that I no longer have time for anything fun at work like reading blogs (you don't want to see my bloglines backlog, trust me). Certainly no time for writing blogs.

It didn't help, of course, that the Whatsamatta U computer gurus, in their infinite wisdom, started observing our internet habits. So much so that they would call people and tell them what site they were on.

So, in summary:
MORE WORK + BIG BROTHER INTERNET TACTICS = NO BLOGGING FOR 2+ MONTHS. I suck.

Even The Boy has pointed this out to me, and he's not a blog-minded kinda guy.

So what have I been up to lo these two long months? Sadly, the answer is not much. Outside of work, I've been knitting some socks (Hogwarts Sock Swap II); I saw the Yarn Harlot in L.A. (as great as rumor says); we accidentally got a kitten (rescue a kitten, keep a kitten); Laura and I spun off from our knitting group and formed our own (the Orange County Knitting Meetup Group--represent!); new dental woes have surfaced.

Most importantly (to me) I've had some health stuff arise that I'm not quite ready to blog about yet. I've been hyper-emotional as a result and went through a depressive episode struggle. Doing better now, but it's been some work, and I literally now have a team of doctors that I get passed around all the time. So, yeah, throw into that super-busy-at-work mix the fact that I have tons of doctor's appointments (why do they all have to be between 9am and 5pm on workdays??), and you can imagine how fractured my mind has been lately.

Sadly, I haven't even had any good/weird injuries lately for Freaky Friday fodder.

The GOOD NEWS is that The Boy and I are heading out for vacation this Saturday for a whole week. We're going to drive up the coast to Morro Bay, Monterey and San Francisco. I cannot wait. I sooooo need this time. A full week of no working, no deadlines, no expectations except fun. We have made a couple of firm plans to see places (Hearst Castle and Alcatraz), but other than that...fly by the seat of your (our) pants vacationing. Of course, this has made work that much more hectic because I've had to work a lot of late nights to get stuff done so that I can leave with a clear conscience (damn work ethic). But it will totally be worth it. Next week.

Yeah, so even though I'm back today, I probably won't be able to write again till the end of the month. But I just wanted to let you all know that I'm still knitting and griping over here in my little part of the innernets.

Freaky Fridays, Reverse Sock Progress & Shout-Outs

2007-08-03T11:38:00.000-07:00

++Edited to add: Longest blog post ever--sorry, but I'm making up for lost time.++

Happy Friday Friends! And it is happy. It's been a long slog of a week and I am plumb tired.

This week I endeavor to entertain you with the latest of my toof woes. If y'all read this blog with any regularity, you know that I have been having many a toof woe*.

Just a little backstory: I currently have a permanent crown that has twice been affixed with temporary cement because the dentist does not want to permanently cement it while my gums continue to misbehave. She is afraid I could end up with a cavity between the gums and the crown if the swelling ever manages to go down, probably leading to a root canal and taking the damn crown off for the THIRD FREAKING TIME. Ahem.

The problem with the temporary cement is that it is, uh, temporary. As in, it seems to stop working anywhere between two days and a week (if I'm lucky) and then I almost swallow the stupid thing. So they sent me some do-it-yourself temporary cement so that when the crown fell out again I could put it back in again myself since I don't see the dentist again for 6 weeks.

For the record: Me + Cement = Recipe for All Kinds of Mayhem.

I read the packet and thought to myself, "Self, this can't be that hard. It looks pretty easy in the dental office." Oh, Self, you are so funny. You think that anything you do will ever go smoothly? Have you learned nothing in your 30+ years??

Step #1 -- Squeeze a small amount of the two fixatives out of this little foil package thingy and mix together with a disposable spatulate tool. Um, don't have any of those around the house, how 'bout the back end of my toothbrush? Okay, so, squeeze it out onto...what? My hand doesn't seem like a wise idea, so I squeeze it onto the toothbrush end and put that back onto the foil thingy and start making the little paste. Easy peasy. Hmmm, this cement is kinda messy. It's sort of spreading up the handle of my toothbrush as I mix. Well, I should probably proceed to step #2.

Step #2 -- Apply to the underside of the crown that will adhere to the little nubbin in my mouth. Wow, this crown is actually quite small and my toothbrush end is a lot bigger than I thought. Hey, it's probably not good to get this cement all over my hands. Wait, I can't move my fingers! Okay, I can do this. With the three fingers not covered in cement, I can get this crown placed in my mouth.

Step #3 -- Place in mouth. Pshaw! That's so eas- oh. "Wai. Ow eres emen all o'er y owf. 'RAP!" Okay, in the dentist office they always have me bite down on those little cotton pillowy things. Cotton, cotton...cotton balls! Bite down and in four minutes I'm going to have a nicely cemented tooth that I bet will look so good the dental assistant will think she did herself. What should I do while I wait for it to dry? Oh--

Step #4 -- Scrub hands. Hard. Everything is sticking to me. Hey, I didn't even see that cat hair on the sink and now it's stuck to my hand! Why can't I separate my pointer and middle fingers? Ooh, my face itches. Man, that was a bad idea. What the hell is this stuff made out of? Oh, yeah. It's not coming off! More scrubbing. Has it been four minutes yet?

Step #5 -- "Your tooth should successfully be seated in your mouth." Okay, let's see how this worked. Ick. Gack. Spit. I don't think a cotton ball was the best choice. There's cement and sticky cotton everywhere in my mouth. The cotton ball is coming out in thousands of the finest of fine little filaments, stretching and breaking. It's stuck to my teeth. I have a mouthful of cotton fibers! Man, this really sucks.

Step #6 -- Opine loudly on the stupidity of depending on ME to take care of this. My dental office knows what a freaky spaz I am! Why would they send me the do-it-yourself cement kit? They must have known how this would go. Maybe they were laughing as they sealed up the envelope to send me?

************************************

Sock progress inaction photos

I know that some are not fans of flashing and pooling, but I believe in letting the yarn be what it wants to be. :)

Oh my sole

Teeny little bit of yarn left. I knit as close as I could because I'm always so careful that I end up with plenty left over. Not this time!

It is all kitchenered now, by the way. I'll be working on the second sock (which was actually the first sock and is about 1/4 way through--loooong story) until the yarn arrives to start my Hogwarts II sock for my pal.

I refer to this as reverse progress, though, because once I finished the toe I put the completed sock on and darned if the cuff wasn't too tight! Since I've never used up the entire skein before, most of my socks are a bit short and I've never had the problem of running into the dreaded giant calf/small cuff problem. If I don't mind the lack of circulation to my foot, I can wear as-is, but I just don't roll like that.

Instead I began to rip out the ribbing at the top. Turns out that ripping ribbing is a million times harder than ripping stockinette. Who knew? It's almost fixed now, but last night I was pretty close to putting the sock into permanent time out. It's gorgeosity saved it, though. Damn you, Koigu (shakes puny fist northward at those dastardly Canadian dyers)!

************************************

Shout outs

1) Dear lady I saw at lunch wearing the side-ponytail: No. Just no. I rocked that in the third grade and you are considerably older than me. It is simply unacceptable that you adopt this style in 2007.

2) To my new pseudo-dog, Susie: I can't wait to see you again!

I say pseudo-dog in the sense that she's not really mine (not that she's not really a dog, obviously). My dad's employee found this gorgeous Jack Russell terrier wandering around in Lake Arrowhead. She's obviously healthy and sweet as can be but had no tags or identification. The woman took her around to all the neighborhood houses and even contacted a couple of shelters: everyone had seen her, nobody knew if she had an owner, they figured she was just a stray. The woman took her home but couldn't keep her because her apartment landlord won't allow it. My parents took her in for a week. My dad was adamant that they were not keeping her, so my mom and the kids were not to get attached. She was only there for a week while they tried to find a home for her.

I came up to visit that weekend. Me, the cat person. I've never had a dog, never really wanted a dog. And yet: love at first sight. I *knew* instantly that her name was Susie and my campaign began to get my parents to keep her for me. I live in a no-dogs allowed building or she would've gone home with me the very next day--the dog-hating Boy would've come around, I just know it; she's so sweet! I have been waging an email campaign against my dad, sending him pictures of me and Susie from that weekend (two weeks ago, by the way). Many a soulful expression was made to him while I was there, from both of us. He even commented on how taken we were with each other. I'm going to go back up tomorrow and continue the assault.

Send your good doggie-keeping vibes to me and Miss Susie Blackjack! (the full name I've given her; black because, well, duh, and jack because she's a jack russell, dontchaknow).

3) And last, but definitely not least, big props to my dear, sweet friend LAURA. I sincerely hope she doesn't hate me for outing her here, but since only one person she knows reads this blog (that I know of), I think I'm safe. Laura's latest WIP is a BABY!!!!!

I feel safe in sharing, though it's not up on her blog yet, because Laura has told all her family, her boss, and our knitting group. I'm so excited! And y'all know this means a rash of baby knitting at the knitting group. Baby socks, booties, blankies--oh my! :)

*For those not as familiar, here is a quick recap: first was the diagnosis of gum disease that required scaling and depositing medication at the root level of many of my teeth. Then was the wisdom tooth removal that led to many, many "incidents" of bone chip removal. Which led to gum surgery for shaving the jawbone down so it would stop coming through the gums. Then cavities were found between two of my teeth. Somehow my rigorous dental maintenance (and boy howdy, is it rigorous, just ask The Boy who falls asleep waiting for me to finish THE ROUTINE each night) was not enough. Then the dentist had to remove a crown that she's already removed once before because a creeping cavity was moving underneath it at the gum line, and now, months and months later, my gums continue to be too swollen to allow her to replace the crown permanently. Seriously, just take 'em all at this point. I've about had it.

You Know, I'd Really Like Working At This School If It Weren't For All These Students

2007-07-30T16:03:00.000-07:00

Beware: Grumpy Old Woman Rant Commences...NOW

Whatsamatta U has the distinction of being located in an area populated by rich, snotty kids. Kids much like those spotlighted by MTV with their stupid, (sur)reality shows based on plasticy, enhanced-to-within-an-inch-of-themselves lives. And these kids are the worst kinds of entitled that you've ever seen.

They drive far nicer cars than about 90% of the staff. And they have no qualms about scratching, denting or otherwise damaging the cars of us, their underlings. They look with scorn upon those of us who cannot afford/do not want to dress like a) hookers, b) mannequins or c) the latest runway victim of Dolce & Gabana/Versace/H&M/Ralph Lauren/Gwen Stefani (have you seen what her stuff costs?!--holy !@#$). They walk blindly behind reversing vehicles, trusting that their charmed little lives could never be snatched away from them, knowing that if one of us deigned to bump them with our cars, daddy would sue us into oblivion. Because Princess should be allowed to be irresponsible and lazy and insensible of things happening around her!

Ugh. Today two such lithe, young, tanned, spoilt specimens just walked right behind my car as I backed up from my parking spot. They never looked at me or my car. They were talking at each other, scrolling through their ipods, in their designer clothes that cost as much as my monthly car payment. No doubt they were on their way to get their half-caf, soy mochaccinos in their BMW or convertible Mercedes!

If this is our future, God help us all. This is what happens with a concentration of too much money, not enough discipline and spoiling run amok.

Where are the parents here? Other than handing over the limitless credit card and the keys to the Jag, do these mini divas with JUICY printed across their a$$es/their $300 jeans/their Missoni dresses/Gucci pants and their Prada/Coach/Chanel bags have actual, involved parents? I know that there are some awesome parents out there in the real world. Hell, I've known more than a few in real life. So what dysfunction happened to this new generation that has made it acceptable for kids to be this way? Brainless wonders cum tween/teen icons. Oy. Paris, Lindsay, Nicole? I'm looking at you.

God I'm old.

Freaky Fridays--and Sock Talk

2007-07-27T17:22:00.001-07:00

I swear to you that there has been knitting, it's just not all that exciting. I have ripped and restarted a pair of socks using Koigu KPPM P113 7x. Seriously. SEVEN.TIMES.

Yeah, so I stole the picture, because I don't have a decent one, from Simply Socks Yarn Co. (though I didn't steal Allison's bandwidth or anything--I love SSYC and I love Allison--have you seen her latest addition to the shop? He's a doll--go say hi!!!).
The thing is, I love Koigu (as if you didn't know that), and I really love this variegated colorway, but it was fighting with every pattern I tried. So I finally started it with the Mata Hari pattern (discovered via a pattern search on Ravelry!) And it's working, but it's a slog for a number of reasons--I've been reading a lot and then there was a certain book about a boy magician named Harry, I think...yeah. But I will take a nice photo on my truly fabulous new sock blockers* for you, I promise. Speaking of which...

My lovely model

He really does put his foot in his mouth a lot ;)
*******************************************************

Aw well, on to the freakiness!

A somewhat recent fall in my very own bedroom. Fortunately the only witness was The Max (my cat) and he's not talkin'.

You know how falling can be like a domino effect? You start to fall, and you grab something to help break your fall and it breaks, and so you reach for something else and it hits you in the head, and...no? That's never happened to you. Huh. Guess it's just me then.

I was sorting out my underbed plastic storage bin that holds wrapping paper, and then I abandoned the project at the foot of the bed for a couple of weeks because it was boring. By it's placement it became a catchall for discarded socks, a paper bag with stuff that needed to be sorted, some papers...you get the idea.

I was walking between my 'vanity' (dresser) and the bed and my socked foot slipped on a piece of paper that had fallen off the plastic bin. I stumbled forward, and tried high-stepping in my effort to regain my balance. And thusly did my foot go through the plastic lid of the storage bin. I reached for the down comforter to catch myself, but it is silky and so it just slid off the bed and helped take me down. I grabbed blindly for the handled bag on top of the bin and it swung forward and hit me in the head. I grabbed for the dresser, but my hand slid across it's glossy IKEA surface. In the end I went down, facedown, with the handle ripped from the paper bag and a sweatshirt from off the bin in my hand; the comforter was hanging off the bed and dangling onto the back of my leg. My cat was sitting in the doorway, fascinated and terrified. I had one hand in front of me as I had managed (amazingly, considering) to avoid a faceplant right into the base of the floorlamp.

Naturally, The Boy came running in after all this to find me laying on the ground in the bedroom laughing like a loon. I told him I had been taking a nap. If it weren't for the noise that my ample self made when hitting the ground, I probably could've gotten away with my story, too!

Sock blockers purchased from Leggy Creations. Becky is super nice, incredibly fast and her gorgeous work is very reasonably priced. I saw an almost identical pair of sock blockers in her archives and asked her if she would take a custom order. She made mine a little bit different (so that it is unique for me), and I had them within about a week, I think. Handmade and to my door in about a week, people! If you are ever looking for sock blockers, hers are fabulous and she's wonderful to work with!

Freaky Fridays--And Why I'm Famous At Work

2007-07-20T13:59:00.000-07:00

So about a month after the first time I sprained my ankle, it was a bit drizzly out and I was walking back to my office from a lunch run, carrying my sandwich and soda. I was heading down a slight grade, unaware of the danger lurking just a foot or so ahead of me.

Cue dramatic music--Bum BUM bum!

Some background: the buildings where our offices are located at Whatsamatta U were built in the '60s (pink stucco bungalows, bay-bee) and had all the typical failings from that era, including no handicapped* access to the doors. The two entrance doors are about 6" or more off the ground, the main walkway has a drop of 5-6", and between the main walkway and the doors is a gravel walkway. Yeah, real handicap-friendly. At some point they added wooden ramps down the main walkway to the gravel area, and back up to the main door that is used to enter our building. /Background

So I'm walking down that first ramp and I hit a damp patch. When stepping with the foot with my already sprained ankle. And I'm wearing boots with a heel (because I'm a moron who doesn't learn her lesson). Down, down, down I went. My purse went flying, my foot/leg again landed folded underneath me, I dropped the bag with my sandwich. But through it all (and this is a point of pride) not one drop of my soda was spilled. (Thank you, thank you.) I got up, looked around to see if anyone had witnessed my idiocy, gathered up the scraps of my dignity and limped back to the office. I tried to pretend that nothing happened because I was sooooo embarassed. But the pain did not get any better.

The next day I told my boss about it half-jokingly because my co-workers love to hear the stories of my humiliation (and I give them plenty of fodder). Well, she didn't find it so funny since it happened on campus property. An accident report was quickly filed, I was dispatched to the campus medical center for assessment, I was referred to physical therapy, and some handy dandy changes were instituted 'round these parts. The most notable was the ginormous rubber mats that were installed that very day on each wooden ramp. The mats were jokingly therefore referred to as KnitPicky** ramps. Campus safety also asked me for any other safety recommendations that I might have (slippery when wet signs, said I). And then there was the fancy shoe.

Shexxxxy

*I know that 'handicapped' is probably not the most PC word to use, but I think 'disabled' sounds worse, like you are referring to a person or people-group with some kind of a failing. You disable a machine, not a person. And 'differently abled' just sounds like you're trying too hard. Is this the lesser of some evils?

**Obviously they don't say KnitPicky. They say my last name, but for purposes of this blog, this works. ;)

Hogwart's TWO, the Return of the Sock Needles

2007-07-14T23:29:00.000-07:00

Circumstances beyond my control kept me from posting yesterday, so I apologize to everyone that I may have let down--Freaky Friday fans and Hogwart's swappers alike.

I was meant to have posted the answers to the Hogwart's Sock Swap TWO before today. And I was meant to tell you that sign ups for the sock swap began TODAY if you would like to sign up for Hogwart's I. Le sigh. Life. It is so complicated. To all Hufflepuffs everywhere, I apologize!

Okay, guilt aside, here goes the questionnaire...

1) What Hogwarts house have you been sorted into?
This go round the Sorting Hat saw fit to place me in HUFFLEPUFF!

2) Shoe size? Foot length? Foot circumference?
I wear a bog standard US Women's size 9 shoe. My foot is 9.25" from back of heel to base of toes. My foot circumference is also 9.25".

3) List your three favorite sock yarns.
a. Koigu
b. Lorna's Laces
c. Artyarns

4) Would you like to try a new brand of sock yarn? If so, which brand?
Absolutely! I'm open to trying anything new. My dream yarns to try are the world-famous STR, Yarn Pirate and Sweet Georgia Yarns.

5) Do you prefer variegated or solid sock yarn?
I am a huge fan of variegated and handpainted yarns. If they are solid, I prefer the semi-solids that still have subtle changes from stitch to stitch. I am not really a fan of self-patterning yarns--I think it detracts from the challenge and excitement that you get of seeing what pops up with a variegated yarn.

6) What colors would you like to add to your sock yarn stash?
Red, teal (not turquoise, but a blue-teal), orange, blues. Really, just about anything. I just love me some sock yarn. :)

7) What kind of sock patterns do you gravitate toward? Lace? Ribbed? Fair Isle?
I tend to do lace or ribbed. I haven't actually made that many pairs of socks yet, but the ones that catch my eye the most use creative patterning and stitchery.

8) Do you have any allergies? (smoke, animals, etc.)
I'm allergic to cats, but I have two of them, so that's certainly no deterrent! I am really sensitive to smoke, though. And the only yarn that I have ever sworn off is angora. It is lovely and soft, but it makes my nose itch like mad!

9) Will your socks be exposed to cigarette smoke or animals as you knit them?
As I mentioned above, I do have two cats. The cats are always involved with the knitting--as observers, mostly. But I always handwash 1-2x before I send any gift knitting.

10) Are you willing to have an international Hogwarts Sock Pal?
I think that would be fun.

There you have it, folks. I'm looking forward to HSSII--I hope you are, too.

P.S. We just returned from seeing HP:OOTP and really liked it! Unfortunately so much of the book had to be cut out, but I thought they did a really nice job with what they could squeeze into the time. Was anyone else just shocked when they showed the flashback to young COS Harry vs. current-day Harry? Wow, he sure has grown. :)

Three Reasons Why Swaps Are Totally Worth It

2007-07-12T15:35:00.000-07:00

I am so ridiculously and thoughtlessly behind in posting these. I just have not had my act together outside of the work environment (there I am kicking some serious butt), and I didn't get these photographed until just a couple of days ago. I am so pathetic.

The worst part of all, of course, is that my swap pals were so sweetly generous (and, yes, I did thank them via email), and I haven't put their packages up to show you how kind they were!

1) From the International Notions Bag Exchange, organized by the sweet Patty (Midwest Knit Girl). My delightful pal, Sabrina (My Knitting Basket), sent me the following:

Uh, yeah, the picture would have worked if a certain fat cat hadn't gotten in the middle of things!

Here's a better one:

A much better picture, with the exception of Miss Minipaws covering up the adorable String Thing Geisha! You can see her in the previous picture. Sabrina made me a recycled notions bag out of denim and hemp (clever!), included incense (the little orange/yellow envelope), a braided bracelet, the String Thing (who is now attached to my knitting bag--I love her!), and a magnet from Toronto. Part of the swap is/was to include a magnet from where you live. Sabrina couldn't find a magnet for her actual town, but Toronto is just next door.

The other part of the package from her (yep, there's more), was this great crocheted market bag.

Here it is stuffed with a handful of grocery bags. I am trying to phase out the plastic bags, instead getting the reusable cloth kind from all the stores in California now making them available. So this turned out to be a perfect gift. I don't even remember saying on my blog that I was doing this as a baby step toward greener living, but I did see a couple of these bags on Sabrina's blog when I found out she was my pal (not an anonymous swap), and lo, I got one in my package. You have no idea how thrilled I was, or how much you can stuff in this little bag.

Thanks so much for the notions pack, Sabrina!

2) Also from Sabrina. Yep, we were also pals in her yarn 'n stuff exchange.

That darn cat is at it again, inspecting the goods. Sabrina sent me Werther's caramels (uh, they're open), the BEST smokehouse jalapeno almonds (mmmmmmm), a cute little basket that I'm going to put on my coffeetable (when I get one) to hold snall notions and things, a skein of Paton's Cha Cha, about 100 yds of citrusy merino yarn that she dyed herself (the colors are so fresh and summery!), some tags for attaching to handknit gifts, and a great little yarn scrapbook and little handmade envelopes for scraps that she hand-decorated for me! Whew! What a package! :)

3) My Hogwart's Sock Swap package. My pal Queue did Hogwart's proud!

Wow!! I saw this package on the blog and coveted it, but never in a million years did I think it would be winging its way to me. Queue made me some absolutely wonderful Gryffindor stripey socks (see picture below), with a great wrapper (soooo cute!), and she included yummmmmmy teas, delicious dark chocolate (I'm pacing myself; just a couple of little squares each night; sooo good), some bee-yoo-ti-ful stitch markers, size US2 Brittany birch, 5" dpns, and a gorgeous skein of sock yarn called, appropriately, 'Fawkes'.

This photo shows the needles, and a better picture of the Fawkes yarn, as well as a pink/brown (yay!) crocheted potholder and the yarns from Sabrina that were part of package #2 before they were commandeered by HRH Inari.

When I took the socks out of the wrapper The Boy said that there was no way they were handknit because they were 'just too perfect.' I'm not sure what this means about his estimation of my skills, but I have to agree. These socks are flawless! And I lurrrve the opposite toes/heels.

Queue, thank you SO much for a truly magical package. You can bet I'll be wearing my Gryffindor socks when we go to the movie on Saturday (The Boy works tomorrow night).

I have lots more photos of other things to post, but for now, I think this is plenty!

Hey, Guess What I Almost Forgot!

2007-07-06T15:49:00.001-07:00

Um, yeah, Freaky Fridays. Yay. The crowd roars.

So today's story is of the first time I sprained my right ankle (for the record, I'm up to *3* times now).

So I was sitting at my very expensive and fashionable [coughcough] KMART (grandma always called it 'CameApart'--heh) kitchen table in the very way that we are told not to, with my right leg tucked underneath me. (Based solely on the fact that I built these chairs myself almost 10 years ago, this was a bad idea.) So I was sitting on my rickety chair and talking to The Boy. He was telling me I needed to get up and do something I didn't want to do (I don't even recall what). He took my hand to help me up and I rocked a little in the chair. I was laughing and rocking, and then, suddenly I wasn't.

Suddenly I wasn't laughing because my chair had collapsed underneath me (soooo bad for the ego, really). One of the legs had completely disconnected itself from the rest of the chair (these are those cheapie chairs consisting of pre-fab shapes and held together with dowels). I had hit the ground with a resounding thump in a sitting position, with my right leg sandwiched between me and the surprisingly solid seat of the chair. I was so startled. I looked up at The Boy and he was staring at me in shock.

I just remember laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation! The Boy quickly reached out and grabbed my arm to pull me up. He kept asking me if I was okay. I just kept laughing (hmmm, maybe I was in a little shock, too?). The Boy, being medically inclined and all, quickly got me to the couch with my foot elevated. He made me put frozen veggies on my ankle, despite my protests that it was probably fine. I was more upset about breaking one of the 4 lousy chairs that we had, and the terrible feeling that it was more me and less the rocking and the cheapness that caused the situation.

Later that night I noticed the big bruise and the swelling that were forming underneath the frozen peas (or was it spinach?). I felt so dumb for how it happened that I tried to avoid explaining the situation unless pressed--mostly I went for the 'bar brawl' or 'gang fight' explanation because it usually deterred most casual questioners. It wasn't until I sprained it AGAIN less than a month later that things got really bad.

Guess what story you get next Friday? ;)

Ooh, a cliffhanger!

Out of the Mouths of....Really Sarcastic Columnists

2007-07-05T13:28:00.000-07:00

"So there you have it. Bush shrugs and smirks and then commutes the easy soft-focus sit-on-your-ass-all-day-and-knit white-collar prison sentence of a hollow political lackey who, in turn, took a bullet for his sneering mafia thug of a boss, Dick Cheney, who in turn was complicit (along with lead flying monkey Karl Rove) in the appallingly illegal outing of a CIA operative, which itself was a tiny but particularly nasty link in the giant chain of lies and deceptions undertaken to lead our wary and tattered nation into an unwinnable impossibly costly brutally violent war that will now last, if current estimates are correct, until the goddamn sun explodes."

--Mark Morford, SFGate.com

Freaky Fridays

2007-06-29T15:05:00.000-07:00

I have a new one for you. Exciting for you, but painful for me! This one happened yesterday, so you got it here first.

The background: apparently I am weirdly shaped. I see my body as basically a tall rectangle (as attractive as that sounds), but for some reason pants are always too short. In order to get pants that are long enough, I almost always have to buy pants that are way too big in the waist (about 1/2 size or more too big). I can use belts to help, but sometimes that ends up creating the oh-so-fashionable "paper-bag" look. So more than I'd care to admit, I resort to large safety pins.

Well, I was pulling on some pants yesterday that I had forgotten to remove the safety pin from the last time I wore them. And as I pulled the pants up I felt a sharp stab in my right thigh. I quickly pulled the pants back down, and as I did, I felt a good half of that jumbo safety pin pull back out of my leg. If I could have heard it, I'm sure it would have made a sucking sound. The area was stinging so badly, but I was running late for a dental appointment, so I decided just to go. I didn't see blood seeping through my pant leg or anything, and it stopped hurting after about 45 minutes (could it have gone into the muscle?).

Last night when I was changing into my pjs, I looked down at the area and not only do I have the red little pin-prick mark, but I have a nice, quarter-sized red/purple bruise.

I ask you -- who does this? Who doesn't even notice a honkin' big safety pin and stabs herself in the leg? The Boy was talking tetanus shots last night when I told him the story (oh, the wild and wacky world of being married to an R.N.).

Then The Boy decided to make me feel better by telling me of his own safety pin incident. Heh. We so belong together.

The Boy went to USC and was in the famous USC Trojan Marching Band. They went to play at Notre Dame and after a long day of rehearsals he got back to his hotel and noticed that his pants had split down the back, along the butt-al region. Being a boy, he didn't know how to sew the pants, and he had to perform the next day. Thus, the magic of safety pins.

He pinned the whole seam down and off he went to play and dance and march. At one point during the halftime show, they were on the field, down on the ground when suddenly BOING! one of the pins came unhooked/latched and poked The Boy in some sensitive areas. The Trojan Marching Band does not break for anything, so he just kept going, getting stabbed in the ass with every step he took and every move he made. Is it wrong that I was laughing wildly at this story? ;)

Maybe my pants stabbing me in the thigh isn't so bad after all?

A Note to My Mother: For The Record

2007-06-27T14:53:00.001-07:00

Despite years of my agonizing protests and refusal to eat anything even remotely green and healthy: I am eating broccoli right now.

VOLUNTARILY.

But don't get any crazy ideas about brussels sprouts. Those little baby devil cabbages are still beyond redemption.

That is all.

Addictive Personalities Beware!

2007-06-23T23:37:00.000-07:00

Ravelry is so crazy addictive. I've just spent 4 hours uploading a teeny tiny bit of stash and ogling other people's pages. I foresee many a sleepless night!

If you're on Ravelry, friend me: my username is conchobara!

Freaky Fridays (on Saturday)

2007-06-23T20:57:00.000-07:00

Hey all. Sorry about delaying FF for ya, but I was down with a migraine most of yesterday and a good portion of today.

Today's FF actually is a triad belonging to my (bio)dad. He is klutzy, so you know I come by it honestly, but this Freaky Friday is really about his unbelievably bad luck for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

If I were to relate to you just one of these stories it would seem sad or scary, maybe even unbelievable. But when you get all three together, it's funny because it seems so ridiculously impossible!

A few years ago (bio)dad (hereafter known as bd) was on the bus heading to work when a guy pulled a gun and shot the man standing in front of bd on the bus. I know! Kept him off the bus for awhile, I'll tell you what!

Then, about a year later, bd was at work with another guy (working the graveyard shift), and he decided to walk outside to get some air. When he got out there, he found a man who had been stabbed in their parking lot. Naturally, when the police got there they had some questions for bd as to his whereabouts and actions before they were called. Fortunately he had a co-worker there with him who could vouch for his whereabouts. Which is unusual, because working the graveyard shift, he's usually flying solo.

THEN (oh yes, there's more) a few years ago, I was at work and somebody came into the office telling us about some madman sniper shooting at cars on the 5 freeway in Glendale (California). Uh-oh, bd lives in Glendale. Sure enough (and really, what are the odds?!) it was someone in his apartment building!!!! Because bd works the graveyard shift, he was asleep, so he missed most of the hullabaloo. Which, as it turns out, was a pretty darn good thing because one of the shots the madman fired before he started picking off cars on the freeway came right through bd's living room window and was embedded in the wall. It's still there to this day--he put a frame around it.

So, there you go. If you ever think you have it bad, think about bd and his incredibly bad, horrific and just plain crazy luck!

Lotus Knits Contest!

2007-06-20T12:03:00.000-07:00

Lotus Knits is having a contest to enter to win some Gorgeous (yes, with a capital 'G') yarn that she dyed.

To enter her contest, one has only to include a picture of your first finished knitted item or the next item in your queue that has not been cast on yet. Sadly, I never got a picture of my first knitted item--a scarf for my little sister, all pink and white fluff. So instead, what will I be casting on for next?

I'm currently working on socks for myself, but you know me; that's going out the window because I entered another swap! This one is for a notions bag. After looking around for a bit, I've settled on one of these two.

Option #1 is from LMKG* and I've wanted to make it for awhile now. So pretty!

Option #2 is from Knitty, and is one of the very first patterns I printed out when I first began knitting and discovered Knitty 3 years ago. This option is slightly more exciting because I love buttons, and would get to use one or more. But I haven't made a final decision yet.

What do you think? Option #1 or #2?

******************

*Hey, did any of you read the article on Joelle Hoversen in the most recent Blueprint magazine? It was very cool! She has an amazing apartment and they had pictures from Purl and a sneak peek at the sweet little room she's created for her upcoming arrival (though I'm not sure if it's upcoming anymore, at this point).

Oh My Goodness-Oh My Goodness

2007-06-19T22:38:00.000-07:00

So much has gone on lately that I would like to blog about, but I don't want things to get lost in one looooong post, so I'll just have to parcel them out over the next couple of posts (and at the rate I go, that could be months!).

So the most important thing first: I got my awesome package from my ISE4 pal the night before we left for our anniversary trip to Santa Barbara. So, please forgive the delay in getting this information--and my HUGE thanks--out.

My swap pal was MoniDew , and boy, did she spoil me. Here are some pics of the goodies.

When I got home, I found this lovely box chock full of wrapped packages--yay! What could they all be??

Wow. Just, wow. Moni went to so much trouble to find just perfect gifts for me. Look at all the swag! She responded to my strong belief in breast cancer awareness and my desire to get back into yoga. I love Miso soup, and the candle smells just divine. Mmmmm. And how did she know how much I'm into organge right now?!

Please forgive the awful, sideways picture. I haven't quite figured out how to rotate pictures on my home computer (got it down at work, though!). This is my luscious scarf from Moni. It's in the Falling Water pattern. I'm not sure of the yarn but it is soooo soft and I adore the colors--which are pretty accurate here.

And another view of the scarf--as headband. I am a terrible photographer anyway, but when forced to take a picture of me wearing an item...well, let's just say that there were about 15 pictures of my back, the wall, the door and some items behind me. I immediately put this lovely in my purse and took it on our trip to Santa Barbara--though it's hot right now in CA, it was cool in the evening by the beach, so this came in mightily handily.

There is no thank you big enough to send Moni for this beautiful, thoughtful package. I was so thrilled to open each and every item. THANK YOU, MONI!!!

What a great swap partner!!

(And, by the way, check out Moni's blog for healthy living tips--she knows a little something about this, being a nutritionist and all!)

Freaky Fridays

2007-06-15T16:01:00.001-07:00

Hey peeps, sorry for depriving you of FF last week. The Boy and I were off to Santa Barbara to celebrate our first anniversary (of marriage; we've had five anniveraries of being together).

I have so much to blog about, and no time to do it in this week! I'm really going to try to get online this weekend to give you pictures and more information.

Due to our vacation (long weekend; we returned Monday night) and a supersized dental visit on Tuesday (5 hours in the chair!!!), I've been running like a mad woman at work, playing catchup on everything. Le sigh.

Soon I will have pictures for you of WAY TOO MUCH YARN (in The Boy's opinion, not mine, natch!), the cutest sea lion, a crab that collects yarn (really!), and some yarn-related goodies, including the AMAZING package from my ISE4 pal, MoniDew. What a truly wonderful pal. I'll give more details later, but she has been a commenter on this blog during the swap, sent me several cute little emails as we went along, and mailed me a mind-blowingly perfect package. I am so in awe of her swapper fu!

*******

Now, for why you really come here: more ways in which I've injured, hurt or otherwise embarrassed myself recently. ;)

So I mentioned a couple of posts ago the totally not real rabbit that is hanging out with us at work--but not really, of course, because I'm *sure* that would be some kind of health hazard, and we wouldn't want that, you powerful work enforcement types, so don't you worry. Or come looking for her.

Anyway, our imaginary rabbit spends most of her daytime life in one cubicle, but she has decided that the rest of us are WAY more interesting. As is running around the office. Enter: the prison break.

A couple of boxes were no deterrent for our four-legged hopping friend. So a makeshift baby gate was constructed out of some cardboard boxes to block the entrance to her cube. For weeks we all have just high-stepped over the gate when needing to get into the cube. Until this one magical day two weeks ago...

On that day I was standing outside the cubicle talking to its actual (human) resident. I went to step over the 'gate' to show her something and caught the front of my sandal on the flap of one of the flattened cardboard boxes. Not only did I stumble, but I fell--big time. I'm so glad it's not on video. I tried to balance myself by waving my arms wildly, while I had one foot caught behind me on the box, and one foot in the cube. I didn't want to hit the ground and squash the bunny, nor did I want to land on my teeny tiny officemate. But eventually gravity took its toll, and I fell to the ground, on my knees. And you know how cushy and comfortable institutional carpet is--about 1/8" thick over solid concrete.

I don't know how I looked exactly, but it can't have been pretty. My knees hit the ground so.hard. that people came running from other cubes. I skinned up both knees, and got ginormous bruises on each one. I also sprained the ankle that was caught on the box--my bad ankle, of course. The bunny and my officemate were just fine, though, lest you should worry!

It was really embarrassing, and quite painful, but it was one of those things where after it happened I was sitting on the ground in my officemate's cube laughing and laughing. Other co-workers came in and told their stories about falling to make me feel better. Which I appreciated!

*******

And as a little bonus for you, a conversation with another co-worker today:

She was on the phone with a vendor and suddenly shouted out, "OWWW!" Then she said, "Um, I stubbed my toe." When she got off the phone a couple minutes later I was laughing. I asked her how she supposedly stubbed her toe while sitting at her desk. She explained that the rabbit had bitten her toe, but she didn't want to tell the vendor that.

Then she said, "Of all people, Stephanie, I would expect you to understand how it is possible to hurt yourself in a bizarre way! If someone could get hurt sitting absolutely still at their desk, it would be you, so have some sympathy!"

Needless to say, we were all laughing at that one. And in that laughter, there was a tinge of irony, because it is so true. :)

Freaky Fridays -- and 100% more knitting content

2007-06-01T17:05:00.000-07:00

Whew, just making it in under the wire here with the latest installment.

I apologize for the relative blog silence, but short weeks really present a challenge at work since the clients still expect us to produce the same amount of work as in a regular-length week. I also developed a killer migraine yesterday that had (has) me down pretty badly. I came into work late today as a result.

But! On with the storytelling. This one is short, so I'll also be including some actual! knitting! content! with this post.

The first time I sprained my wrist was pretty typical. I was in a car accident, and I did precisely what you are told not to do--just before impact I tightened my grip on the wheel. I was pretty lucky that I only sprained my wrist, but that's another story entirely.

The second time, though, even *I* was laughing. Through my pain.

The Boy and I were standing in the kitchen talking. I think he was doing the dishes, and I was just standing next to the table, leaning negligently. Then I (stupidly) decided to stretch my arms out, first out in front of me, and then up over my head. And right into the blades of the ceiling fan.

Fear not, no limbs were lost and no blood was shed. The fan was on low. And it has those great big paddles, anyway, so all it did was stutter a bit, whacking my left wrist back and forth a couple of times until the shock dissipated a bit and my brain registered that my hand was in the fan.

Wrist to Brain: Ow! Quit it!

So when the pain didn't go away in a couple of days I called the doctor. And while in my appointment, when I told him how it happened, he just stared at me. I blinked first. Finally (and clearly trying not to laugh) he told me that that was an excuse he'd never heard--and he'd heard some good ones. (I wish he'd shared some of those so I wouldn't have felt like such a freak!)

So there you go. An injury as only Stephanie can do.*

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Blocking my ISE4 pal's scarf

I was about to take the picture of the full length blocking when Inari wandered in. Inari: Mmmm, alpaca is lip-smackingly good!

Here The Boy is helping me measure the full length of the scarf--my sore ankle was protesting all the time crawling around on the floor. Erm, sorry about the cat lying on the scarf ISE4 pal! I swear this was washed before blocking!

A pretty true representation of colors, and a closer picture of the lace pattern--it shows well on the purple alphabet block.

And even closer, because I love how it turned out!

And a few non-knitting pictures, because they're cute.

To Max's way of thinking alpaca=catnip. Alpaca yarn is the one yarn that I have to worry about him stealing from me. It's the one yarn that drives him senseless. He kept trying to steal away with the last little bit while I was weaving the ends of the scarf in, so when it was all done, I gave him the rest of the ball.

Alpaca goooooooood

And a last picture that just yelled SPRING to me

I saw the Bouganvillea coming back, and the Morning Glories popping and I couldn't resist. I'm no Cara or anything, but I'm pretty proud of how this picture came out. I have a clunky digital camera, and I'm a rubbish photographer, but this is such a pretty scene, that I guess I couldn't ruin it too much!

Also, as I was uploading all the pics into flickr, I noticed how well the flowers in that picture match the scarf. I love when synchronicity sneaks up on you like that!

*BTW--I think I sprained my ankle again this week. Probably just a minor sprain, but I think you'll enjoy the story. Evidently, starting this little blog 'tradition' of telling the world how I hurt myself may be bad for my health, because I've had a few falls and several injuries in the last two weeks!

A Diatribe

2007-05-29T14:55:00.000-07:00

For those of you not interested in political ranting, please feel free to scan through this blog. There are some cute critter pictures scattered throughout.

For the rest of you who are either sympathetic to--or willing to put up with--a liberal/progressive/Democratic opinion, here goes.

I don’t claim to be an international relations expert. I don’t even claim to have had a great political science education (thank you, public school). And yet, I know enough to be livid right now at the Democrats in Congress.

How could they capitulate and give the president a blank check to keep the troops in Iraq with no plan, no way out, no benchmarks, no responsibilities?! I am so disappointed. I really thought that when they took over after last year’s elections that they would be making drastic changes. And in those first 100 hours, they really looked like they were going to do it.

But now I am losing confidence. I don’t want to, of course, but when the president gets the opportunity to do a press conference where he claims that they all worked together and compromised (meaning he got everything he wanted, and the ones who will ultimately pay are the troops), well, my heart sinks a bit more.

Picture #1

This weekend The Boy and I watched the entire Band of Brothers series. If you haven’t seen this, please do. It is an amazing portrayal of what WWII troops went through in combat. I know that in some ways combat today is better, in others worse (the pros and cons of technology and field medical advancements), but I don’t imagine that the feelings of helplessness and hopelessness are any lessened.

And while watching this heart-wrenching series, the message that kept coming home to me was that at least the brave men of WWII knew what they were fighting for. They had a purpose and a genuine enemy. They were not responsible for attacking a sovereign nation that had done nothing to them. They were not being forced to serve in the middle of a civil war. They were often greeted as heroes and liberators. Not as bait.

Watching BofB made me even more angry about the unjustified and illegal war that we are ensnared in right now. While you can argue the appropriateness of war at all (I am generally a pacifist, myself), I don't think you can argue that the Nazi party should have been stopped. When Easy Company discovered a concentration camp, I lost it. I sobbed and cried for (what my high school English teachers liked to call) "man’s inhumanity to man." The concentration camp was the catalyst that broke the dam, and I cried for all of the soldiers lost; I cried because I cannot believe that the lessons of WWII and Vietnam and Korea, etc., have not penetrated the minds of so many Americans.

A few years ago I went to the Museum of Tolerance in Los Angeles. I walked away from that experience further baffled that anyone could treat another human being as less than equal. How could you see the evidence of what was done to the men and women whose only crime was being an artist, being gay, being Jewish--and not be changed? I was fortunate enough to be raised by parents that instilled in me from birth the equality of all human beings regardless of color, religion, or any other arbitrary differentiator.

Picture #2
So how do we today justify the wholesale slaughter of innocent Iraqis as though they are worth less than we are? How do we condone a war that is predicated on the belief that we and our governmental systems are better than theirs (particularly when many of our leaders never bothered to learn the history or historical politics of the region)? How do we take sides in what has become a civil and religious war? Day after day we hear that our soldiers are stuck in the middle between Shiite vs. Suni factions.

And the Democratic majority decided to let it go on instead of fighting for what they know is right.

Why?

Ugh. Then today I hear that Congress is talking about pulling troops out in September after General Petraeus gives his official report. Because they already know it will be bad and that the surge has failed. The surge that failed before it ever began.

Picture #3

"By September, when Gen. Petraeus is to make a report, I think most of the people in Congress believe, unless something extraordinary occurs, that we should be on a move to draw those surge numbers down," said Republican Senator, Jeff Sessions, longtime Bush and war supporter.
So, Democrats, I fear we can kiss goodbye any hope of retaking the White House in '08 unless things change, or 'unless something extraordinary occurs.' Because now the Republicans and the White House will get to be the good guys who bring our troops home following the monumental failure in Iraq. All because the Congressional Democratic leadership decided to allow Bush and his 28% approval rating to prevail, instead of supporting the vast majority of Americans’ opinions and digging in, taking a principled stand and being willing to die for the cause (metaphorically; while the soldiers do so literally).

I am so mad right now; I am just beside myself.

Now...for those of you who stuck with me through my diatribe, or those who skimmed through for critter pictures, here's two more--a cat after my own heart:

Max Sniffs Yarn

And one more, 'cause he's cute:

The Little Prince

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Photograph #1: Please disregard the evil-looking red eyes. I'm no photographer. She's actually quite sweet. This is the work rabbit--we all rescued her (she was probably 'set free' on the campus). She lives clandestinely in a large cage in our office and comes out to visit everyone in the afternoons when we close our door for 'meetings.'
Photograph #2: Cute bunny butt!
Photograph #3: Inari hanging out in her new bed.
Photograph #4: Max stuffs his head in my sock knitting bag. It holds alpaca; his favorite.
Photograph #5: Max climbed up on top of the pile of throw pillows. There seems to be very little point in organizing the throw pillows on the couches. Our house is ruled by the cats, and they would rather that we build them caves with them. So we do. He is perched on top of just such a cave.