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.