Eenie Meenie Mynie Mo

I’ll go ahead and answer my own question that’s up there in the header above the voodoo dolly. Yes, I am the imaginary knitter. I haven’t knit a single stitch for almost two weeks, even though I have my Clementine Shawlette, my Icarus, a pair of socks, and some sort of wedding ceremony shawl to knit. When I first wrote that “Am I the Imaginary Knitter?” I was blatantly ripping off that Imaginary Socialite site, which I do not get at all. I suppose I don’t get it because I don’t live there, am not friends with the person, and am obviously not the actual Imaginary Socialite, who, for all I know, doesn’t exist. I haven’t knit. That might be why I’m in such a constant state of tizzy, and also why my drink of choice these days is 1% milk which I drink through a STRAW, people. If you’d seen the things I’ve seen, what with the production of “Refusal to Heal” that Jimmy’s ass wound is putting on these days, you’d drink too.

So let’s see.

I’ve decided on color 104, because it’s the most wedding-y. But I’ve also decided on S475, because I love it oh so much. If I end up actually choosing that one fer reals, though, I’ll look like I’m wearing a nekkid dress because that’s pretty close to my skin tone during these lazy days of summer* during which I float in the pool on the blue floaty Jimmy gave me for my birthday before he proposed. And remember, I did NOT pout about the blue floaty when all I really wanted was a proposal. So. I’m getting my dress from SimpleDress, the A Line floor length, spaghetti strap version. I’ll look smashing. Or I’ll look like Woman Who’s Compensating For Never Going to Prom. I so desperately wish I had the self-assuredness Ed’s sister possesses, because then I’d wear that A Line floor length, spaghetti strapped dress in a gorgeous cranberry color. But alas. Je suis sans cajones. Or is it cojones? Either way, I don’t have it.

So, let me ask. What is up with these dirty rotten no-good lying cheating drug-taking cyclists in the Tour de France? There’s no answer, unless Messieurs Rasmussen and Vino decide to call me and tell me what’s up. Every year I get SO excited about le Tour, and every year I’m left disappointed. I know that’s not fair to the true, dedicated athletes who race clean. But Dave Z and Robbie McEwan! Even though they were hit with le Lanterne Rouge and left the race, at least their departure had nothing to do with dishonesty, deceit, and illegal drug use. Still pains me, though. I think what angers me is the cheaters’ assumption that we’re all stupid and somehow unworthy of a clean, honest, excruciatingly hard race. Well. Be gone with ye, I say. Users are losers. As Phil says, you are not a man of heart.

*This is pure sass. These classes are kicking my behind, and while I do miss my children something fierce, I’m glad that their two weeks of vacation with their father are taking place during the last two weeks of this TORTURE SESSION.

Audience Participation

All right, people.  Here’s where I call on all lurkers, you silent readers, to come out of the woodwork and help me out!  Hellllllp meeeee!

Below are four pictures, each with a different swatch of fabric posing with the same skein of Sea Silk.  One of those colors will become my wedding dress!  Weehoo!  I’m telling you, go to SimpleDress.com if you need a dress for any old reason.  Simple styles, but very beautiful and they will send you fabric swatches that you can later pose with yarn for the purpose of asking total strangers help your indecisive ass choose a fabric.

(Before I go any further, I need to share this right quick.  I’m sure some of you know how I feel about the Valley’s police department.  Quick recap- my feelings towards them are not so good.  Today I was driving home from spending the day with my Grandmother and I noticed a cop car in my rear view mirror, and he was glancing up and down at my car and making jabbing motions, much like I do at my keyboard.  Further down the road I switched lanes to make a turn I needed to make, and then stopped at a stop light.  Because I’m a good, red-light-stopping citizen.  The cop rolled on up next to me and I happened to glance over at him.  He was shaking his finger at me in a “SHAME SHAME!” motion, followed by a “roll down your window” motion.  So I did, and he said “Your tags are four months expired!”  Crap, that’s right.  So I said I’d go home and take care of it online.  He said “You’d better have it done by Monday, (my name), or I’ll come and find you!”

Hold up there, you PSYCHO FREAK FROM HELL!  Don’t you threaten me like that, you asswipe!  Way to freak me out.  A few years ago I was pulled over by TWO cops for crossing the Gore Point on the highway.  If you don’t know what the Gore Point is, it’s that white triangle thing that forms between the highway and the off-ramp, and I accidentally crossed it.  TWO COPS?  I ask you, was that necessary?  No.  I was freaked out crying, the kids were freaked out crying,  and the asshole cop had the nerve to ask me if I were married.  Um, what possible business of his could that possibly have been?  None.  And then this other asshole today says he’ll come and find me?  Not cool.  When did I move into f*ing Russia with the KGB on my ass?  Fuckers.  Pardon me, please.  It’s not like me to swear so much on my blog, especially when what I really need is help picking fabric for my WEDDING DRESS.  And I need a wedding dress because I am getting MARRIED!  To my one true love, the man with whom I will grow older and saggier.

Ok!

Option #1:  Color 104

 

Option #2: Color T3

 

Option #3: Color 523

 

Option #4: Color S475

 

All fabric swatches are silk shantung, and I am SO in love with it!  I’m knitting a wedding shawl out of the yarn on which it’s resting because I don’t have the balls to let my tattoos show during my wedding ceremony, and who wouldn’t want a Sea Silk lace shawl and furthermore, when else can you justify spending THAT much money on yarn?  (At least, in my life.)

Ok!  What’s your vote?

I’d Like to Help, But No.

I don’t even have time to write this.  I’m sorry.  This class is kicking my behind! I haven’t knit a single stitch in a week.  I’m rather stressed out, too, so.  You know.  If I didn’t have to go to class in a few hours I’d totally bust out the pina colada mix and that rum over there.  NOT ADVOCATING ALCOHOL as stress release.  Just saying I’d really like a boozey, frothy drink right now. 

 

But look!  Pretty yarn!  I’m waiting for my ball winder, though, because I want to have beautiful yarn cakes like those other knitters have.  I’m all about keeping up.  Unless it’s with my school work.  And knitting itself.  Oh yeah, housekeeping, too.  I’m sure there’s other stuff as well but by now you’re sensing the theme that things are all sort of falling away from my lazy half-assed grasp.

Yarn Pr0n Friday!

Thank you so very much to everyone for your sweet notes!  This was probably my favorite birthday ever, even more so than the year my dearest friend Bubba Val took me to see Peter Gabriel in concert.  Today is ring shopping day! Yippeee!  I’m not materialistic (I swear I’m not, even though this post is about rings and quite expensive yarn….) but I do like pretty things.  Perhaps I need to look up materialistic in the dictionary.  That might make me change my tune.  Well, pish posh.  Yesterday, to finish up my Birthday Spending Extravaganza.  I bought one skein of Tilli Tomsa Disco Lights, and here it is:

 

It is hard to photograph red. And it’s hard to take pictures here anyway, or maybe I’m just not yet a skilled photographer.  Maybe it’s the camera.  Maybe my materialistic old self should go to Costco to but a new fancy camera.  Oh well.  I’m making just a simple drop-stitch scarfola.  Or maybe I’ll frog this and do something more ornate.  Any suggestions?  I’m wide open.  I really only wanted to cast on to see what it was like to knit with 100% silk.  This yarns smells lovely, too, or else I have a brain tumor because every once in a while I’ll smell cigarettes, wet dog, and hung over man.  Rum and coke hung over man, to be precise.  Anyway, it smells quite nice!  225 yards.  What would YOU do with this?

I also picked up two skeins of 2^nd Time Cotton, but they’re brownish and boring.  I’m making a market bag with it one of these days.  A set of 5 straights and a chibi, and I’m all done!  The yarn insane shopping spree started with three skeins of Sea Silk in the Ivory color, and here she is:

 

I guess by Ivory they mean “colors that will look lovely with ivory” because dang it this stuff is almost every color of beige.  I’m going to knit another lace shawl with it once I’m done with Icarus, which I will start knitting again with renewed vigor once Le Tour is over and I’ve finished Clementine.  I’m almost done with Chart B and am nearly about to start the repeats, so dear sweet Tour Official, I’m back in the saddle!!  I love knitting this shawl, I’ve said it before.  I hope the pattern shows up well with the dark yarn I’m using.  On the other hand, maybe that will cause people to peer at it closely, and then exclaim with great surprise “Why, this is a lovely, lovely shawl!  Where did you buy it?”  To which I will reply in perhaps a smug tone, “Madam, I knit this.”  One of my favorite classmates (favorite because he is just SO darn nerdy and I LOVE NERDS) told me I could go to the store and buy socks, so why in the world was I knitting some?  I smiled my “I’m a knitter” smile and said “Because I can!”

And now it’s shower time.  Not to be confused with Hammer Time.  I share this because it’s 10:30am and I’m still in my pajamas!  No class on Friday nights, the minions are on their two weeks of vacation with their father and I’m trying not to miss them so much that I convulse. 

Come Live With Me and Be My Love

Tuesday morning I practically set the house on fire searching for power cords to my old computer which still had a copy of my undergrad work on it, and I so desperately needed the name of a short story I need for my lesson plan project next week.  Why not just recycle lesson plans from other classes?  Because I don’t WANT to!  I want to use this short story, because it’s either really creepy or it’s an uplifting tale of people taking care of one another in a time of crisis.  Theresa votes creepy.  Anyway, I was searching high and low, tearing apart the house and the storage shed looking for the fricka frackin’ power cords.  No knitting Tuesday morning during the stage, woe is me!  The organizers of the Tour de France KAL should revoke my green jersey, because I didn’t knit on my Clementine at all yesterday, either! 

Yesterday was my birthday, wahoo, and the kids and I went to see the Harry Potter movie at 9:30am.  I was quite distracted by how HOT Daniel Radcliffe has become.  We had a great time at the movie, say what you will about it.  We came home to cake and ice cream, which gave me an incredible stomach ache as we’d had Cherry Cokes, Raisinettes, popcorn, and Cinnabon pretzels during the movie.  Jimmy and the kids gave me some lovely cards, a blue foam floatie for the pool, and then my most favorite part of yesterday- Jim asked me to marry him!  WAHOOOO WE’RE ENGAGED!!! 

I do promise to knit some today.  I have to, because I love the shawl, I love the pattern, and by gum it’s time to get moving! 

Nous seront marié!  19em Avril 2008! 

S-H-O-P-P-I-N-G, We’re Shopping!

JungleJim and I will never have children together because a) my minions are the best kids in the world so why press our luck and b) he has sworn to name the hypothetical children things like Rognall Slothmog and Gunter something or other I’m unable to spell. You see? After Chloe and Nolan, it would be hard to make the transition to Rognall Slothmog and Gunter Somethingorother. I just had to get that out. Moving along now.

In a few days I will be older. Ok, in three minutes I’ll be older, in fact, I’m older now. And now. And NOW! AND NOW! Gah, it doesn’t end. In order to celebrate the fact that I’ve made it this far I’ve done some shopping. For the past few weeks I’ve been obsessed with getting a new knitting bag. I’ve looked long and hard and lustily at the Jordana Paige bags and the Namaste bags. All quite pricey, but heck. We don’t consider price when we’re birthday shopping. For ourselves. With the money that relatives send, come on! Living in Arizona presents some unique challenges when it comes to knitting. There couldn’t possibly be as dedicated and steadfast a following (read: customer base) as there is in cooler climates. It’s quite difficult, therefore, to find a shop with any sort of knitting bag selection. Or Fleece Artist Sea Silk in the ivory color scheme, but that’s a different story. I don’t think anyone has that. (Never mind! I just scored three skeins from a seller on ebay! Thanks Mom and Dad!) Where was I? Oh yes, a knitting bag. So what’s a girl to do? Order it sight unseen? Bag unfelt? Zipper unzippered? All this talk about felt up and unzippering…. Yes. I’m a very visual, hands-on kind of girl, so I wasn’t ready to plunk down my dinero de cumpleanos on something I’d neither seen nor felt, so I did what anyone would do: I went to Target! Yes, I went to Target and bought my damn self a knitting bag! Wanna see? Sure you do, and it is for you and you alone that I took these pictures.

Here is it with my Knit Picks Options case in front of it for scale.

Here’s the front pocket that is deep enough to hold magazines, and has two more slim pockets which will hold things like pattern printouts, Luna Bar wrappers, and phone numbers hot men will write on their business cards and surreptitiously slip into my outstretched hand when they see how cool I am with my knitting bag.

Here it is with my Icarus WIP (which is carried to and fro in a large Lancome gift with purchase bag I got last year), my KP Options binder, and my Clementine Shawlette wip (which is carried in ANOTHER Lancome bag! Dang, Lancome! You rock my knitting bag world! My eyelashes and eyebrows, too, come to think of it.) I also have my Fendi glasses case that holds a cr*ch*t hook, scissors, point protectors, etc., in there. Here are some pictures of the inside, but they’re not that thrilling and after a bit this started to remind me of that Getting to know Your Body movie we had to watch in 6^th grade.

I LOVE this bag. I love it because it holds everything. I love it because it’s black and pink. I love it because it only set me back 27 bones, which left me with enough “Happy You Were Born” money to get that third skein of Sea Silk without cutting into the family budget.

Oh! Le Tour de France KAL! Here’s a peek at my Clementine. I had to start all over because I was missing important parts of the WS rows, causing the end piece to bulge out as an occupied jock strap might. I’m sure that’s not what the pattern author had in mind. I love this pattern- it’s quite fun, but does require that I pay attention to it. I’ve been knitting on it each morning during the stage, and each night in bed for about ten minutes. So I haven’t made that much progress, but I’m getting there. Jim loves it (I’ve even threatened to knit some i-cord and turn the first attempt into a g-string for him), which is quite nice! I keep saying “This feels like hair!” only to be reminded that it is indeed hair. Sorry for the awful picture, it’s difficult to photograph this thing. And MAN, what a crash this morning! That always frightens me, and I imagine myself punching the photogs who run in to take pictures while the riders are standing around dazed and perhaps a bit irritated. I love this race, I truly do!

I tell you what, I’ve been shopping like a mad woman today! My new knitting bag, yarn, a print from (inside a black apple) on etsy, and tickets to the 9:45am showing of Harry Potter on Wednesday! What a way to celebrate my being born day on Wednesday!  It’s not til Wednesday.  I’m just getting a head start!

Happy Monday, everyone. Summer Session 2 starts this evening. Bah humbug.

PS- Bezzie, I got my first “eyeball lick” blog search hit!

Tour de France Eve!

Every once in a while I become convinced I should try something NEW.  A few years ago, as my beloved pelota del fuego can attest, I was ON FIRE about geocaching.  I was going to buy the handset, join a caching team, and travel across the country stashing caches and hopefully someday find a geobug.  Well, on our very first test hike I wiped out and cut open my knees.  Still have the scars, too, which is great because guys dig chicks with scars.  Um.  Right, so there was geocaching.  Never got off the ground.  Oh, AWESOME pun!

A month or so ago I became obsessed with quilting, and decided that my Euro Shark teeny weenie Target special sewing machine was going to see me through to beautiful, funky, awesome quilts.  Theresa suffered an afternoon of feverish links to various fabric bundles available online at finer Valley fabric stores.  I have yet to buy any fabric.  I think the careful, precise cutting and measuring scares me.  We may never know. 

And now I see crocheted granny squares in the various blogs I read and in WordPress’s tag surfer even though I will swear on a stack of Phoenix North Valley Yellow Pages that I don’t have “crochet” as a tag.  I tried to crochet during the week Nolan was in the hospital leaking spinal fluid from his ear.  What I ended up with was noting more than pink and purple fun fur shapes that resembled either dead, curled up caterpillars or capital Cs.  Let us take a moment to reflect- what was the problem there?  The fun fur?  Or the resemblance to dead bugs?  We may never know, and I never again tried to crochet.  This was one habit I never even pretended to want to adopt.  No offense.  It’s not me, crochet, it’s you.

I bring up these love affairs that never got off the ground to cast a shining beam of light upon the one hobby that DID take off, not that you’d know it form my blog lately.  (And seriously, Portland, I meant no offense and I would love to be part of you.)  Tomorrow is the start of Le Tour de France!  Weehoooooo!!!  This means I will start knitting my Clementine Shawlette!  Weehooo…..uh. (You know that Geico commercial with Little Richard?  That’s what that last weeehoooo was supposed to sound like.  Mashed potatoes, gravy, and cranberry sauce!  Weeehooooo….uh.”)  I so desperately wanted to knit it in one piece, but I lack the knowledge to tweak the pattern and so will do what my mother has always advised, and that is to read the directions.  It will be lovely.  How could anything knit with dark-chocolate alpaca NOT be lovely?  Perhaps I ought not to have asked. 

Jim is recovering nicely from his surgery.  Poor kid.  He’s all sorts of stoned on Demarol, Vicodin, and the leftovers of the anesthesia.  Unlike Al Gore’s son, though, those are in his system legally.  Speaking of good ideas gone awry, this Live Earth thing.  I’m all for reducing my energy consumption, recycling, and polluting as little as possible, but I ask you: what sense does it make to fly dozens of rock stars, their stylists, their back-up singers, blah blah blah, and all of their crap all over the PLANET while touting the virtues of reducing our energy consumption?  Guess it’s a matter of “Do as I sing, not as I do.”  Oh well.  I hate to be such a grump lately.  What is this world coming to?

 
Vive le Tour!  Knitting Forever!  Have you hugged an alpaca today?

 

 

Yellow Ledbetter

A few days ago I got to thinking, which rarely ends up anywhere good.  I decided that if SH got assigned a residency in another state (that’s if he’s still in medical school, and I don’t know if he is or not because we don’t talk at al unless it’s about the kids, and only then if it’s absolutely necessary) and things didn’t work out with JungleJim and me, I’d pack up my minions and the three of us would move to Portland.

I’m sure what I’m about to type might offend any Portland peeps, and for that I apologize in advance.  I mean no disrespect.

I watched a “news” story on MSNBC about the huge runaway population in Portland, and the rampant drug use and violence that festers among these lost, young souls.  Now, I talk to my kids about drug use and abuse all the time, I make them watch Faces of Meth and every single special episode Oprah dedicates to this epidemic.  Since my kids are 10 and 9, this hopefully is having an impact on them, preferably “Holy shit, I will never ever do drugs.”  Jim and I are very supportive of the kids, we talk all the time about all sorts of things, and this is hopefully instilling in my beasties the understanding that we are here for them no matter what.  I don’t want them to run away (duh, who hopes for that?) and become crack addicts on the mean (although super pretty!) streets of Portland.  I don’t really believe that Portland has mean streets.  If I could, I’d bring all the homeless kids home to live with me.

 I don’t for a moment believe that the mean streets of Phoenix are any less mean than Portland.  Perhaps MSNBC just doesn’t feel the need to do a show on Phoenix, it’s a given that the streets are mean.  I have no idea.  I didn’t want to live here, but until Daddy Warbucks gets us that RV he’s forever looking at online, here we are.  

The most ridiculous part of this whole thing was my “If things don’t work out with Jim…” bit.  I love that man.  It’s crazy, the love I have for him.  I’d never leave his sweet ass for Portland, or any other –land.  He’s having surgery this Friday, poor lamb.  It’s a lung transplant, and he’s getting one of mine.

 That lung transplant thing was a COMPLETE LIE.  What kind of sick person would make up such a thing?  Me, and I’ve had some red wine and that’s what happens.  That Portland thing, though, I did see that on MSNBC.  It rather broke my heart.   The surgery part is true,  just not the lung part.  He’ll be ok under  the influence of my intense  care-giving and whatever meds he can finagle from the docs.

 Ed remarked a few comments ago that this was allegedly a knitting blog, and that’s true.  But seriously, this summer session, nay, grad school, has been eating up my knitting time (as has Ravelry, as has my obsession with knitting blogs in general) and c’mon!  The main thing I’m working on is my Icarus, and it looks an awful lot like it’s looked the past few months, just bigger.  But I’m now on the 5^th repeat of chart one and hope to have that done this week, and then we’ll REALLY have something to see!

Two finals, four research critiques due this week.

Sorry for that bit about the lung transplant.  And yes, Portland, I still dream of you.

 

PS-  SIX DAYS until Le Tour de France!!  Je ne peut pas esperer!  Or something…