Good Job Susan

I just realized that the last link takes you right back to the same blog! My apologies. Try again:
http://susanwritesandknits.wordpress.com
Sorry 'bout that!

Moving Day

I moved! I am now at http://susanwritesandknits.blogspot.com. Come see me!

Like a Stone I Fall Into Your Eyes

Back's all done!

It's a lot of stockinette. So much so that I'm a little bored with it, and I'm dragging my feet to get started with the front, as it is basically the same, with different shaping at the top. It's a good thing I have absolutely no interest in making socks, because I'm almost certain that I would have second sock syndrome.

Here is a list I have compiled of hopes that I have for this sweater:

1. I hope I made the armholes the right way.

2. I hope it fits. And not only that, but I hope that it's flattering. Because quite frankly, I have no interest in an unflattering sweater. I can buy an unflattering sweater if I want one. Which I don't.

Shaping on the sides, intended to make it flattering. We shall see.

3. I hope the front and the back match up. I almost made this on circular needles because it eliminates the procrastination that ensues after finishing the back and before finishing the front, and also because it guarantees that both sides will be even. Well, with any luck anyway.

Marshmallow marveling the hem at the bottom, hoping as much as I am that it will match the hem on the front.

4. I hope that I didn't make the wrong yarn choice. I spent lot less on yarn that I could have, or maybe should have, and I hope that it doesn't result in an ass-y sweater.

5. I hope that it really is machine wash- and dry-able, as the label says. I will be royally peeved if it is not.

Anyway, as some incentive to finish this sea of stockinette, I picked out my next project (I can't do more than one project at once. I would never finish anything. Ever.):

http://www.garnstudio.com/lang/en/visoppskrift.php?d_nr=105&d_id=9&lang=en

Pretty, no?

I like it because it looks a lot like Juliet, only:

1. It is free.

2. On the model, it is pink. Which doesn't really matter in real life, but it Susan's life it makes all the difference.

3. It is free.

4. It is prettier, at least in my opinion, which in this case is the only one that matters. So there!

Now on to non-knitting news...

It still feels like Spring! It's subject to change of course, but I'm crossing my fingers that it won't. Probably so many fingers that I'm reversing the effect. Granted, it's still, like, 20 degrees out in the morning and my hands are still so dry that no amount of lotion seems to stop them from getting all red and cracked, but the afternoons are downright warm. So warm in fact that who knows how much clothing my grandmother will wear!

Marshmallow the superhero.

Song of the Day:

"Throw a stone and watch the ripples flow, moving out across the bay. Like a stone I fall into your eyes, deep into some mystery." -David Gray, "Please Forgive Me"

Blank Stares at Blank Pages

I've been a bad blogger. It's been almost a week since I've updated, and all I really have to say for myself is that I really have had nothing to blog about.

I almost finished that back of Holly, but I want to wait to show you until I do finish it because it just looks awkward still on the needles. It's just a big block of stockinette with some subtle shaping. It's really boring to knit, acutally.

Other than Holly-ing it up, all I've been up to is blowing up some balloons and contemplating a second job to pay for Dream School.

I am almost too exciting to bear.

You know what I did do though?

I got sick of waiting for someone else to start a group on Ravelry for the fabulishious movie "Say Anything," so I made one myself. For any interested Ravelers, come join the "To Know Lloyd Dobler is to Love Him" group!

Song of the Day:
"I'm unusually hard to hold on to. Blank stares at blank pages. No easy way to say this. You mean well, but you make this hard on me." -Sara Bareilles, "Love Song"

Hold Tight

It's entertaining the idea of being Spring here, in the sense that sometimes its a little warmer, or the sun pokes out for a minute. But then it goes away with no certainty that it will ever come back.

This is an actual conversation that I had about the weather with my grandmother, or as I will call her, Big G. Janice:

Big G. Janice (BGJ): I tell you, this weather, you never know what it's going to do.

Me: I know, it's nuts.

BGJ: I never know what to wear. I go outside in a winter coat and I'm suffocating, but without one I'm freezing.

Me: Layers, Gramma. Layers.

BGJ: Tell you one thing, I am definitely not going out in the nude in this weater. That might scare people.

I am for serious. I kid you not.

Song of the Day:
"Hold tight, wait till the party's over. Hold tight we're in for nasty weather." - Talking Heads, "Burning Down the House"

Everything and Everything Should Be All That You Wanted

I prefer the written word one hundred thousand times more than the spoken word. This is one of the many reasons why I am a writer, and not a public speaker.

When I write, I have all the time in the world to think about what I want to say, and then say it in an intelligent and insightful way.

Well, with any luck, anyway.

But talking? I have no ability to filter what comes out of my mouth. Granted, I can usually prevent myself from saying mean or wildly inappropriate things. I'm not a derelict. It's just that I usually don't think things through well enough before I say them, and as a result, I just word vomit all over the place.

Ewwwwww.

Which brings me to my story of the day...

In English last week, we were talking about the Canterbury Tales. In case you were wondering, they are dreadfully boring except when Chaucer throws in some innuendo. And then they are mildly entertaining in an at-least-this-story's-better-than-it-was-two-minutes-ago kind of way.

Our teacher was talking about how all of the Canterbury Tales have an off-color aspect to them.

"I don't mean just sex, but other gross things," she said.

Now, as I've mentioned in this blog before, I don't believe in premarital sex. Anyone who knows me or Boyfriend knows that. We're not shy about sharing that. Sometimes I make jokes about how having sex can kill you or what have you. So I thought it would infinitely funny to say something along the lines of that to one of my friends sitting next to me, who can appreciate a good sex-related joke.

"But sex is gross!" I said to her.

Only I said it about ten times louder than I wanted to. So loud in fact, that the entire room heard me. Several people asked who had said it because, after all, I am the quiet girl who sits in the back (see above word vomit comments), and they didn't expect me to burst out about the evils of sex.

Luckily, my English teacher can appreciate slightly inappropriate humor, and even had an assignment where we had to write our own Canterbury Tale, preferably with innuendo. (I might post mine later. It's about the party store during the Halloween rush, and a defiled fat-suit stripper costume. We'll see. Let me know if there's any interest.)

All she said was,

"Okay. Sex is gross."

The thing that gets met the most is that I should know better than to talk. Nothing good has ever come from me talking. Especially since the incident in Statistics class when we had to figure out what percent of parents during some obscure year from an outdated text book were married, no longer married, or never married. Naturally, instead of just keeping my mouth shut, I yelled out incredulously,

"But you can't have babies if you're not married!"

To which the teacher said,
"You'd be surprised how many people do, Susan."

Then my friend had to inform her that I was only kidding. Ironically, the same friend who I was trying to whisper "sex is gross" to.

I blame her entirely.

I used to be really shy and had pretty close to no self-esteem. Obviously, I'm happy to be away from that now, and in a place where I'm at least comfortable with myself. But the whole not talking thing I had going on back then? I may have to think about returning to that.

Oh, the shame.

Song of the Day:
"So you feel everything and everything should be all that you wanted. Stay with me. I'm in no condition to be alone." - Howie Day, "Brace Yourself"

Lover's in Love

I have finished the hem on the bottom of Holly, reaffirming my conviction that hemming is not all that much fun. I had to do it on Summertime Tunic too, only that was a little harder because it was sewn instead of knit together. But geez-a-loo, I can never get the sides to match up right. I start out okay, hemming strong, and then the next thing I know, I did something wrong and there's no more cast-on edge to hem to the three stitches that remain on my needles!

That sounds like a poem.

Oh, and that reminds me. I bought 14" needles instead of 10" ones to do this sweater. I'm glad I did because I don't think all 92 stitches ever would have stayed on my 10"s, but I still feel like a cartoon character with intensely exaggerated needles. It definitely will not fit in my Vera Bradley for transport to Boyfriend's house. I'll have to break out the Eddie Bauer tote that I got on sale at one of the outlet stores and that's bigger than some suitcases.

I could probably fit a puppy in it.

Yes, Pharmacy Pete and Shelly. That was, in fact, directed to you.

In other entirely unrelated, yet still super exciting, news...

SPRING!!!

It feels like it.

It was so warm outside yesterday that I was outside with a short sleeved Dream School t-shirt on, and no coat. NO COAT!

But, alas, the undisclosed location that I am from is notorious for being fickle, and today it was chillier. Not cold by any stretch of my fine-honed imagination (oh... guess who just found a new favorite phrase...), but not as balmy.

I celebrated by wearing my Summertime Tunic to school, only it didn't feel very summery on account of I had to wear it under a sweatshirt in order for it to be school appropriate.

Damn the school and their pesky dress code that prohibits girls from becoming the kind of not-so-nice girls they were destined to become!

So yeah. Spring. I like it.

It has been brought to my attention that Rossola has been "recruiting" people to come read my blog. If this is you, welcome! And thank you. And also, SUBMIT TO THE LIT! You know how, there are posters all over the school. I know. I helped hang them up.

Song of the Day:

"This woman was singing my song: lover's in love, and the other's run away, lover is crying 'cause the other won't stay." -Lisa Loeb, "Stay (I Missed You)"

Embrace the World

In case anyone was wondering, decaf coffee doesn't taste like regular coffee. At all. It actually tastes remarkably like dirt. And I don't make a habit of eating dirt, so...

(This is not decaf coffee. This is yummy-licious real coffee. With caffeine.)

On another, more relevant to the usual subject matter of this blog, note...

I have decided that gauge is my knitting downfall. I know that I've mentioned before that several other things were my knitting downfalls (lace, fair isle, craft store crappy yarn, the list goes on), but gauge really irks me.

Apparently I knit to tightly, as I have to go up several sizes of needles every time I make something. Or maybe too loosely... I can't tell. I have trouble visualizing things like that. Which is probably in some way contributing to the issues I'm having with physics class.

"Well, all of the math you just did would be right, except for you forgot to take into consideration that the elevator is going down, so that's a negative, so your answers wrong. Physics is more about conceptualizing than it is mathematics."

*Sob*

But I don't know how to conceptualize, Mr. Physics Teacher. It's not your fault, my head is just so never going to work that way. Which is probably why I'm destined to a life time of knitting other people's patterns, and never designing my own. Yet another knitting downfall.

To be fair, though, I never really wanted to design my own patters. I guess there's really no cause for complaint in that aspect.

It's all good, though. I'm fairly certain that Dream School doesn't even have physics. As long as I pass this year, I'm in the clear.

Oh... speaking of which...

I sent in my acceptance reply to Dream School, telling them that I'm coming!!!! Eeeeee!!!! A future in writing beyond this blog is in the cards for me! Eeeeee!!!!!!!

At some point in time there was a definitive point of this post. Now I can't remember for the life of me what it was. Hmm...

Maybe it was to see if I could set the record for number of ellipses used in one post...

...

...

I count 8, including the last two...

Oops, 9!

Song of the Day*

"And the shadow of the day will embrace the world in gray, and the sun will set for you." - Linkin Park, "Shadow of the Day"

*Song of the Day Disclaimer- I normally don't like Linkin Park at all. Like, at all. I listen to music primarily for the lyrics, with a few select exceptions. Linkin Park's lyrics contain a lot of f-words and really sad, angry, miserable language. Well, to be fair, sometimes I can't tell what they say over the screaming. But I heard this song, and the lyrics are actually kind of nice, even if they are repetitive. And Boyfriend is pleased because he thinks this means that I came over to his side of the Linkin Park Opinion Station. It doesn't. I still don't like them. Sorry Boyfriend!

I'll Show Them to You and You'll See Them Shine

Big happenings in Susan's world!

Well, kind of. The knitting part of it anyway.

First things first:

I finished Boyfriend's Dashings.

*Feel free to insert your applause here*

(I made him hold my book while I took the picture to give him something to do with his hands. I have to read it for a scholarship. And to answer your inevitable questions, yes it's big, yes the print's small, no it's not super interesting, yes I'm going to read it anyway. I read Gone with the Wind just for fun, and I think that might have been longer. If I read that for free, I think I can suck it up and read this for a chance at $10,000 for Dream School.)

They came out pretty good except for the part where I had some serious issues with the yarn (Bernat Cashmere Blends), reiterating my belief that I should spend more money at my LYS, less at Michael's.

Speaking of LYS's....

SUSAN'S FABULOUS LYS ADVENTURE (or local yarn store adventure, for my non-knitting audience, mainly BFF and Rossola).

Boyfriend offered to take me up to my LYS once I was done with his gloves so that I could buy yarn for my Holly sweater. Which is exciting in its own right, to have a boyfriend who volunteers to do that. And, also, it's exciting due to the fact that I get to spend some time in a converted barn filled with all sorts of yarn that I can't afford.

Here is the conversation with the yarn lady that ensued.

Yarn Lady (YL): Hello! How are you today?

Susan (S): I'm good, how are you?

YL: Good. Are you looking for anything in particular?

S: Well, I was hoping to find a cheaper alternative to cashmerino.

(Because YL carries cashmerino, which is what the pattern calls for, however it calls for $85 worth of it. Um... thanks anyway.)

YL: Well, let's look at some of the other aran weight yarns I have.

S: Super!

YL: I have this one over here. This is a really nice yarn, and it's $7 for twice as much yarn as the $8.50 ball of cashmerino.

S: Okay, but how much of that will I need?

(Because $7 sounds nice when you only need one, but...)

YL: You'll need 6 skeins.

(I turned to Boyfriend (B) and made a face as though YL had just kicked me in the stomach.)

S: That's $42!

YL: Yarn's expensive. This is a really nice yarn.

(Granted, I know that I haven't chosen an inexpensive hobby. But damned if I'm going to spend more on yarn to make my first sweater, that I'm more likely than not going to mess up somehow, than I do on a sweater, already made, from a store.)

S: But I only work two days a week blowing up balloons!

B: I'll pay for half of it.
S: No.

B: But I will.

S: No thank you. I don't want you to.

(I already spend enough on my yarn habit without dragging Boyfriend down with me.)

YL: You know what else I have...

Then she pointed up to the very top shelf, where there were about forty skeins of yarn (Plymouth Yarns Encore, 75% acrylic, 25% wool) in all sorts of colors, that sort of looked like they had been thrown up there and forgotten about. And since they were $5 a skein and I only needed 5 of them, they were well within my Party Store Candy Department Specialist's budget.

I realize now that it is unrealistic to go to the yarn store expecting to spend between $20 and $30 for good yarn. I would never ever spend more than $50, but I may have to up my budget for next time. It's just that, for my first sweater, it doesn't make sense to me to spend that much money. I can live with ruining a $24.95 sweater. $42? Not so much.

And, finally, this was the on-the-way-home conversation:

B: Maybe you should just buy a llama and make your own yarn.

S: Yeah, a lot of people do that. I don't think Shelly would like that very much, though.

B: So when you have your own house, then.

S: I'm not sure it's any more cost-efficient to buy, house, feed, and care for a llama then it is to buy yarn.

B: Yeah, but then you get to have a pet llama.

S: Llamas spit. Maybe I'd just get sheep.

B: That's an idea.

S: But I'd have to get a couple, because they live in flocks.

B: Then you'd need a---

S: Farm?

B: No, I was going to say one of those canes with the hooks on them that Moses had.

Song of the Day:
"Whatever colors you have in your mind, I'll show them to you and you'll see them shine." - Bob Dylan, "Lay, Lady, Lay"

Standing in the Sunlight Laughing

Once upon a time there was a girl named Susan, who just wanted to knit her boyfriend a pair of Dashings. So she set out on her Dashing journey by purchasing yarn from her local craft store because she had a coupon. The yarn was from Bernat, and it was pretty, and was made of acrylic, nylon, and cashmere, making very soft, but also hella rugged.

The first mitt went off without a gitch. All was well. There were no visible mistakes. There may not have even been any invisible mistakes. It was hard to tell, as, if they existed, they were invisible. Hence invisible mistakes.

Then came the second mitt. Again, all was well. That is, until she ran out of yarn from the first skein, and was forced to join a new one.

"Okay," thought Susan. "I do this all the time."

It attached superly (sometimes I invent words. Don't judge.). Then she realized that this skein was so much softer than the last. And as she got farther and farther along, she realized that it was visibly different, with more pronounced stitches, and resulted in a much softer, floppier fabric than the first skein did.

To which all I can say is, WHAT THE HELL?????

Growl.

Anyway, I'm almost done with Dashing, so I can buy yarn for Holly. I'm going to my LYS for this though. I trust her more the craft store.

Song of the Day:
"Whatever happened to Tuesday and so slow. Going down the old mine with a transistor radio. Standing in the sunlight laughing, hiding behind a rainbow's wall. Slipping and sliding all along the water fall, with you, my brown eyed girl." -Van Morrison, "Brown Eyed Girl"

Go Ahead and Ask Her

I like working on Sundays. Time and a half is totally worth blowing up the intense amount of balloon orders for Sunday birthday parties and baby showers.

I did not, however, get to blow up balloons today. Today I ran the register and individually price ticketed Beanie Babies.

You wish you could have my job!

I actually like the register a lot. It's a thinking job, unlike mindlessly stocking streamers, which only requires figuring out if the streamers are baby pink, pink, light pink, or bombay pink. I kid you not, give or take a hue.

But this month, we're asking customers to make a $1 donation to the local children's hospital. Nice in theory, especially when people actually donate, but it becomes wildly frustrating when they don't.

Don't get me wrong, I don't mean to come off as all high and mighty, and be like, "If you don't donate to the sick kids, you should hate yourself. Because I certainly hate you, you stupid-face!"

Because I know that every store you go in asks you to donate, and nobody can possibly donate to everything.

I don't care if you don't donate.

Well, to be truthful, if people do donate, I pack their bags much more neatly than I would if they didn't. But that's besides the point.

But if you don't want to donate, for the love of Marshmallow, just say no!

It's easy to say no. I say it all the time.

These are the answers I get instead:

"Um, not today thank you."

How about tomorrow then?

"Let's wait and see what the total comes to."

"It's $116.36."

"Oh. I guess not then."

Really? Because you just spent over a hundred dollars for your healthy kid's birthday party. What's a dollar to you at this point?

"I don't have any singles on me."

"The donation just gets added to your total."

"Um... no I don't have any singles."

I know you're not an idiot. You just told me that your "I'm 21 today! Buy me a drink!" button was supposed to be 30% off, which should make it $2.19. You figured that out in your head in about 5 seconds. Stop pretending that you don't know what I'm saying.

"The children's hospital already gets enough money as it is."

I hate you, you ignorant fool.

Please just say no if you don't want to donate. I don't care. Just don't waste my time when there are a serious amount of streamers that need stocking.

Okay, I'm good now. I can move on to knitting.

One Dashing is done, minus weaving in the ends. The pattern's actually really easy, and the thumb was so much easier to make than I thought it would be. I'm think about making Fetching with the yarn left over from Summertime Tunic.

Yes, that is a hole as a matter of fact. No I don't know how it got there. Thank you for noticing though.

I finished it last night when Boyfriend and I went to Boyfriend's BFF's house, which consisted of five guys playing some gory war video game, and me making a fingerless mitt. This is how the conversation went:

"You guys! I just made a thumb!"

*Silence, except the clicking of controller buttons.*

"I did! I was afraid I was going to mess it up, but I didn't, and now it's a thumb!"

*War noises and the repeated use of the f-bomb.*

"It's really hot in here."

*Every boy in room immediately says, "Sorry Susan, it's because I'm here!"*

"That's not what I meant, but thank you for your attentiveness."

*Polite laughter from Boyfriend, who is trying to pretend that he's paying attention to me amidst his video game. I am not fooled. I know where I stand compared to an XBox.*

Then that round of game play ended.

"That's a glove!" exclaimed Boyfriend.

"Uh, yeah I know, it's been a glove for, like, 20 minutes."

"I'm going to try it on."

"Be my guest."

"It fits!"

"I know, I made it that way."

I should mention that Boyfriend is otherwise very attentive.

Song of the Day:

"So go ahead and ask her for happy ever after. Cause nobody knows what’s coming, so why not take a chance on loving." -Chris Rice, "Lemonade"

Is There Anybody Going to Listen to My Story?

So.... the aforementioned secret project?

Dashing, for Boyfriend.

And no I'm not finished. And no, it's not that I can't keep a secret.

Well, actually, that's partly it. I hate keeping secrets like that. Other people's secrets, I'm like a brick wall. I have references that will tell you just that. But fun secrets, like, "Hey, Boyfriend, remember those fingerless mittens I told you that I was going to make for you a few months back? Well, I'm finally making them now that the cold weather is coming to a close. Well, sort of. In a month or two."? That is not easy to keep. Especially considering that I do a lot of my knitting at Boyfriend's house.

So, you see, it's not that I'm a weak secret-keeper so much as it is I really wanted to work on them while Boyfriend and I watched Across the Universe.

Which, by the way, wasn't all that I thought it was going to be. It was a little too trippy for my taste. Though, I did like the roof scene, and especially the scene when Lucy turns around and bursts into "Blackbird."

And also, I totally called it that they were going to open the movie with "Girl." And I'm glad that "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" was only the ending credits song, but I'm a little sad that they didn't use "Sexy Sadie." Unless I just missed that. Whatever.

Also, Summertime Tunic is officially done.

I have mixed feelings. It's pretty, but the ribbon isn't really working out as straps, and I don't know how practical it is. The top of it is pretty low-cut, so I have to wear a tank top underneath it, seeing as I am a nice girl, and don't want that to be mistaken.

And in other unrelated news, I just did a bad thing. I ate a cookie.

*Gasp*

I know!

No, but Boyfriend and I gave up all junk food for Lent. And I really haven't had a hard time doing it. It's just that Shelly just made chocolate cookies. From scratch. And they're warm. Warm.

So I ate one.

But it was so warm!

Song of the Day:

"Is there anybody going to listen to my story, all about the girl who came to stay? She's the kind of girl you want so much it makes you sorry. Still you don't regret a single day." -The Beatles, "Girl"

Love Put Me Wise

The Restoration of the British Monarchy in the 1600s?

Not as interesting as you might think.

It's not that I don't have an appreciation for British History, it's that I don't even care that much about American History, nevermind the history of some place that I have no connection to.

I shouldn't say that. My grandfather was British. But he didn't have an accent, so it's hard to count that.

And also there are so many things that I'd rather be knitting than writing this paper.

And now that I'm on a knitting note....

Summertime Tunic is taking forever to block. Forever!

Though I'm sure that it has nothing to do with the fact that it's downstairs in my dark, cold basement.

Grrr.....

Back to Charles II and Richard Cromwell, I suppose.

Cheerio!

Song of the Day:
"So never judge a book by it's cover, or who you're going to love by your lover. Love put me wise to her love in disguise. She had the body of a venus. Lord imagine my surprise." - Aerosmith, "Dude (Looks Like a Lady)"

Mix Tape's a Masterpiece

Summertime Tunic is complete and blocking!

I tried it on, and it fit really well, and I'm a little concerned that blocking will change that. But I'll take my chances. Even though my spray bottle did break while I was spraying it down, so I had to just put it under the faucet... pretty sure that's unorthadox.

Since I joined Ravelry two days ago, this blog has experienced a pretty decent increase in readers. So, like, yeah! And with that, I got tagged! I know. Exciting.

I was tagged by Kaya, and I'm not entirely sure how this whole tagging thing goes, and who I'm supposed to tag or not supposed to tag, so I'm just going with it, and copy and pasting the rules from Kaya's blog.

1. Link to your tagger and post these rules on your blog.

2. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.

3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.

4. Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

So here are 7 things about me:

1. When I was really little, I used to walk around the house and pick up lint and strings that I'd find, then mold them into a ball. Pharmacy Pete found it one day, and asked me why I was collecting lint. I told him that I was making a ball of yarn so that I could knit a sweater. Then he made me throw it away, and told me that when I got older, I could buy a ball of yarn to make a sweater. I got mad, because I thought that meant that I had to wait until I was, like, 90.

2. I wrote I book when I was in the eighth grade, then tried to get it published. It obviously wasn't because the book sucked, but it taught me a lot, and I'm a better writer for it.

3. Boyfriend is my first real boyfriend, and we've been together since we were 15. And even though I love him now, I still like him as much as I did back then. The thought of being with anyone else makes me sad. And I hope he knows that.

4. I'm a huge That '70s show fan. Huge as in, seen every episode at least 5 times, own all the DVDs, and throw quotes from the show into my everyday conversations. Bitchin'!

5. The last time I checked, I was third in my graduating class. That may have changed, but either way... I was there.

6. I won Marshmallow in a raffle at my doctor's office when I was five. He has slept in my bed with me every night since then. And I'm taking him to Dream School with me. Shut up.

7. I don't believe in premarital sex, and I don't care what people think of me for it. Lucky for me, Boyfriend agrees, so there's no cause for disagreement on that front.

That was fun! And here's who I'm tagging:

Mary

Rachel

Rachel

Nik

Wendy

Octupus Knits

Hmm, I can't think of another one. Maybe I'll add one later if I think of it.

And now, I must go start the secret project I'm going to be working on. Anyone on Ravelry can see it here, but I can't put it on this blog. The recipient of the secret project reads this on occassion, but isn't on Ravelry.


Have a lovely day!


Song of the Day:
"When all words fail, she speaks. Her mix tape's a masterpiece. Walks through the garden, so the roses can see. Oh I. . . have you got nothing to say?" - Ben Folds Five, "Kate"

If It's a Hero You Want, I Can Save You

I have the irrational tendency to name inanimate objects, then refer to them by using "he" or "she" rather than "it." I'm sure that it stems from watching Toy Story when I was little, and not wanting to take any chances at finding out that all of my stuff was coming alive when I wasn't in the room and planning a mutiny because I never named them properly.

I'm not crazy, just imaginitive. Hence, writer.

At any rate, I named my laptop Billy. I don't know why, but his name is Billy right down to the name at the bottom of the screen with all of the user icons on XP, that says "Turn Off ___." And normal people write "Family Computer" or "My PC" or something to that effect. But I put Billy. And so Billy he is.

Billy was always defiant, right from the get-go. I bought him four years ago from BJ's Wholesale Club, with a coupon, and within a few months, I couldn't even turn him on without him freaking out and going to some horrible blue screen within 10 minutes of being on, before finally shutting himself down.

The support center had no idea what was going on, and we had to send him back to the company. Within a week, he was back home, and just about everything from the motherboard to the hard-drive had been replaced. Basically, it was a brand new computer in the old case.

Billy has been fine since then, up until recently when he's been acting down-right pokey, and freezing in places that he never did before, and refusing to coorperate with the printer. It could just be that he's four years old and outdated, but I think it's because he knows that I'm going to college soon, and will need a new Billy that is lighter and smaller and better-behaved. Shelly and Pharmacy Pete want to get it soon, in case there's another Episode, we'll know about it in time to fix it before I have to leave for Dream School.

Oh, I forgot to tell you...

I decided on going to Dream School. I'm just going to be poor forever. It's worth it.

And Boyfriend's being so nice and supportive about it. We're only going to be about 40 miles apart, which with public transportation, is, like, 10-15 minutes. No biggie.

Annnnd.....

I got onto Ravelry! Yeah! It's so very overwhelming, but everything I thought it would be.

And also......

I figured out how to whip-stitch live stitches and attach a new ball of yarn in the middle of a row without having to ask my LYS lady! I was so crazy proud of myself it was ridiculous. I just sat down with some Red Heart that I had lying around that my grandmother on Shelly's side had given me (or, as I like to call her, Big G. Janice. She's not that big, but Average-sized G. Janice doesn't have the same ring to it), and I just figured it out! Granted, my hem isn't that pretty, but it's on the inside, so it doesn't matter.

And knowing how to attach a new ball of yarn means that I also figured out how to do fair-isle! I own!

Song of the Day:
"I'm trying real hard not to shake. I'm biting my tongue, but I'm feeling alive and with every breathe that I take, I feel like I've won. You're my key to survival. And if it's a hero you want, I can save you. Just stay here." - Secondhand Serenade, "Awake"

Take the Pain Out of Love

So, I have been waiting very patiently for my Ravelry invitation, and it finally came last night, but I was at the party store until ten, stocking streamers and what not, so I couldn't do anything about it until this morning. Or, this afternoon rather, seeing as I didn't wake up until 10:30, then spent a good two hours showering and drinking an intense amount of coffee out of the new pretty pink mug Pharmacy Pete gave me for Valentine's Day.

Or, rose mug I should say. He originally gave me a light pink mug and Shelly the rose one, but we traded. We're cool kids.

But, at any rate, I'm a sad because Ravelry's saying that there's an error in creating my account, and I don't know what to do about it. And I know that there's a help chat room, but I'm skeptical of chat rooms. Even ones for knitters.

And, in other sad news, it turns out that I don't know how to "whip-stitch live stitches," and Vogue Knitting isn't helping me out to much, so I'm pretty stuck on Summertime Tunic until I go see my LYS lady. And I was almost finished too. Grrrrrr....

Oh, and in other news, Pharmacy Pete read my blog. Before that, it was just Boyfriend's mom (who said it kept her entertained), Shelly (who said, "Yeah, it's okay), and BFF (who read it after I gave her the Birthday Scarf, which I've seen her wearing in school, clearly not minding that's it's still pretty darn curly). I'm pretty sure that Pharmacy Pete only read the parts about him and Shelly, and the gorilla pod, but I'll take what I can get!

Song of the Day:

"I do regret more than I admit. You have been followed back to the same place I sat with you drink for drink. Take the pain out of love and then love won't exist." -The Academy Is... "Everything We Had"

I Might Have Been Turned Around

I don't understand the people who are like, "Well, I had a spare couple of hours today, so I decided to knit something up quick. Here are the pics of the sweater and two pairs of socks that I made, plus the sleeves of a cardigan."

Seriously?

How do people go so fast? Summertime Tunic is taking me forever.

Or maybe that's just because I'm amidst a sea of endless stockinette.

Or maybe it's just that there really is something to be said for continental knitting. Tack that on to the list of knitting things I can't do: continental, fair isle, lace.

I'll get there. Lace is on my to-do list.

But really. I can never believe it when people have lists of all of the things they made in 2007, or whatever, and there are, like, 100 bajillion sweaters. How?!?!?!

Oh! I signed up for an invitation to Ravelry! I can't wait! There's only like 6000 people before me! I also can't believe how many exclamation points I can use in one paragraph!

I've been writing things for school all day. I have apparently reached my limit. Hence the short sentences and abundance of punctuation. I'm going to quit before I bring in the semi-colon, or do something else equally crazy.

Song of the Day:
"You might have laughed if I told you, you might have hidden a frown. You might have succeeded in changing me, I might have been turned around." -R.E.M., "Leaving New York"

There's Only Butterflies

Reason #368 that I wish I were a hippie:
Hippies don't have to shave their legs.

Guess how many times I accidently cut myself shaving my legs today. No less than 6. And guess how many times I wished that I had never shaved my legs in the first place. Go on. Guess.

Every single time I've shaved my legs during my entire leg-shaving career.

If I was a hippie, I wouldn't have this problem. Hippies are all like, "Hey man, whatever. Don't shave your legs if you don't want to. Just as long as it doesn't start a war or anything." Then they go smoke something illegal. Or, the real kind of hippie does, anyway. The kind of hippie I would be would go knit something. Something legal, of course.

If I went by Shelly's advice, the answer is not "Go be a hippie," the answer is "Be more careful next time."

This is clearly a classic case of Shelly just not knowing what she's talking about.

And in knitting news...

Summertime Tunic is looking pretty beautiful.

(Pictures to follow. If I feel like it. Actually, it looks the same as last time, just with another inch or so of ribbing, then six inches of stockinette. Use your imagination.)

Except for that I still don't know if it's going to be too small or not. I'm kind of banking on the fact that it's stretchy enough that it will fit anyway. I'm not that big.

Song of the Day:
"And there's no more lies. In the darkness, there's light. And nobody cries. There's only butterflies." -Natasha Bedingfield, "Pocketful of Sunshine"

Thoughts Seem to Scatter

Where did January go? Even though this past week was, like, the longest week ever, it still seems like January should have been longer. And on that note, why aren't the new MagKnits patterns for February up yet? As I mentioned before, I never really like too many of the patterns on MagKnits, except for maybe Holly. I just like to see what's new.

I'm starting to get scared that my Summertime Tunic not's going to fit. I mean, it looks really, really small. I'm trying to tell myself that it's because it's still on the needles, which makes it seem smaller. I'm not entirely sure if that's right or not, but I don't need anyone to correct me on that. It's just to prevent me from abandoning the tunic all together.

In other, slightly more intelligent news:
My fellow editors-in-chief and I spent a good hour going over all of the submissions that we received for the high school lit mag. Some of them are really good, but most of them are just miserable. I had no idea that my high school was so filled with secretly-emo kids.

I understand that writing is a way of venting. I get it. I really do. But why do you have to show people what you vent about? That I don't get.

If I'm in a bad mood, I try not to write because I know that everything that comes out will be sad and angry and miserable, and when I go back and read it later, it will just put me in a bad mood all over again. This past week was particularly sucky, so I tried to avoid writing as much as my writer nature would allow.

Now, I understand if not everyone has that point of view. If you're in a bad mood and need to vent, than by all means, write if it helps you and doesn't make you feel worse later on. But why feel the need to submit it to a high school literary magazine, where other already emotionally unstable teenagers will read it?

I can't know. I just wish people would be happier. Maybe the world would be in better shape if our world leaders just got a good night's sleep, ate more Skittles, and weren't mad at each other all the time.

Song of the Day:
"I've been trying to get down to the heart of the matter, but my will gets weak, and my thoughts seem to scatter." - Don Henley, "The Heart of the Matter"

I Scream at the Top of my Lungs, What's Going On

Well, if this isn't coming along just swimmingly...

Yes, it is very roll-y on the bottom, and no, I don't have any idea how to remedy that, as I have proven before, seeing as BFF's birthday scarf is still very, very curly.

I made a little tiny sample of BFF's scarf so that I could experiment on the rolliness without ruining the actual thing. I blocked it... and nothing happened. So Shelly decided to iron it.

If you'll notice, it is still a little curly, and the stitches look smooshed and have lost all definition and stretchiness. Shelly, however, can't understand why I don't want the actual scarf to suffer the same fate as the poor innocent swatch.

I guess that's why the label specifically specifies not to iron the crappy acrylic. Ooohh.....

I think it's a better idea for the scarf to roll up into itself than it is for it to fall at the hand of Shelly's iron. At least this way I can say, "Oh, BFF, it's supposed to look like that. It's a skinny scarf. And I'm pretty offended that you didn't know that!"

Yes. That is obviously the best solution.

And in other breaking news... Boyfriend is gone for the weekend. And you know what that means! A whole weekend of booze, drugs, and new man meat.

Ew. I tried to make a funny, and it ended up just being gross. I am so not that person. I would clearly make a terrible hippie. My weekend is going to consist of homework, Summertime Tunic, and blowing up football shaped balloons for Super Bowl Party go-ers.

But you know what? That sounds so much better than all the hippie stuff.

Oh, and do you like my new ducks?

I got them on account of they look just like Boyfriend and me. Except for the part where we're not actually ducks, or yellow, or have beaks. And also he doesn't play a guitar yet, and if he did, it would be acoustic because I told him that would be hotter. And also I'm clearly not as good of a hippie as this duck is. This duck is probably wing-deep in LSD. I am elbow-deep in Berroco Comfort DK. I think I got the better end of that deal.

Song of the Day:

"And so I wake in the morning and I step outside and I take a deep breath and I get real high and I scream at the top of my lungs, what's going on?" - 4 Non-Blondes, "What's Up"

The other day, my friend had a stroke. He is one of the nicest, happiest, funniest people you will ever meet, and he doesn't deserve this. It's not fair that this happened to him, especially since he's so young. I know from my brand spanky new site meter that not many people read this blog, but for anyone who does, if you could please keep Spencer in your prayers, it would be greatly appreciated.

Elope with Me

Lookit!

It's a Gorillapod. Pharmacy Pete got it for me because he's very into cameras, and bought a diesel one for his diesel camera. But mine's better because it's prettier and pink.

It looks like a regular tripod, but it's not because it can do this.

And this.

Also, it looks better with a camera on it, but I only have one camera, and it was otherwise occupied taking pictures of it's own tripod.

Oh, and the Summertime Tunic? Plaguing me. It took me two more tries to find the right needle size, and then when I finally got it, the whole thing got twisted on the circular needles, so I had to start over anyway.

Grrrrrrrr.

It almost seems pointless anyway to be knitting a top that's for summer, when it's snowing out right now.

Yes it is snowing. I don't why I'm surprised because that is what it does here. The only part that kills me is that it's not even the good kind of snow that sticks around. It's the annoying messy kind that won't give me a snow day tomorrow, but that will prevent me and Boyfriend from going bowling tonight with my party store co-workers.

But I'm going to knity it anyway. And I'm going to smile through the whole thing because that's what I do. I knit, and I'm damn happy about it!

And plus the yarn is just oh-so-pretty!

Song of the Day:

"Elope with me Miss Private and we’ll sail around the world. I will be your Ferdinand and you my wayward girl." -Belle and Sebastian, "Piazza, New York Catcher"

The Heart of a Woman Can Never Be Found in the Arms of a Man

So, today was a pretty exciting day all around.

To start with, Knitty put out their bonus patterns, none of which I really like, but it's exciting just the same. Just like every month, I head on over to MagKnits, even though I know that I'm probably not going to like any of the patterns. It's just fun to see what's new, on the off chance that something might spark my interest.

In other news, I started my Summertime Tunic.

Turns out, blocking the swatch made my gauge 23 stitches, which is better than 24, but still not 22. But I so don't feel like doing another swatch, so I'm using a bigger needle. If it doesn't work I'll just frog it and cry for a few hours.

That's the brilliance of the Boye circular needle set Boyfriend gave me for my birthday a few months ago. Oh no, that needle size doesn't work! That's okay, I'll just screw on another size and try again. It saves so much money on needles, especially where gauge is concerned. Plus, this pattern calls for me to change needle sizes in the middle of it, but I just have to screw on a new one, instead of trying to balance two circulars. Yeah Boyfriend!

But the biggest news of today is that a very famous director is going to film a movie with very famous actors right here in this very city. I can't tell you who the director is, or who the actors are, or what the movie is called, because Pharmacy Pete and Shelly are skeptical of me having this blog anyway, so that will be a mystery.

The movie takes place in a mental institution. Oh, and with flashbacks to WWII concentration camps. So, naturally, the director thought my town would be the perfect location to stage these horrific scenes.

Yup. Yeah for my city. I can't wait for college, when I will go to the real city, where they, on occasion, film movies that are not about death and torture and pain.

The mayor is especially excited, telling the local paper that this will put our city on the map (which, my friend so graciously pointed out, is already on the map), and that this is something to admire, as the actors involved are at the "top of their field."

And they need 600 local extras. Judging by the persistant buzzing at my school today, most everyone is making the 40 mile trek into the real city to audition. Well, except for the girls who have highlights in their hair. There were no highlights in WWII. It's a sad, sad day for all the bleach blondes.

The newspaper said that they are looking for people who looked emaciated. Just where do they think they are going to find 600 emaciated individuals? This is America. Aren't we notoriously fat?

At any rate, this is the most exciting thing to happen here since the next town over got an IHOP.

Anyway...

Juno was nominated for 4 Oscars! All I can say is that it better win all of them. Also, the soundtrack is the number 3 album in the country. Which it should be, because it totally owns!

Say Anything has always been my favorite movie, but, I must say, as much as I love me some Lloyd Dobler, Diane Court doesn't do much for me. I think she's a weak heroine who just needs a slap in her whiny face because she definitely doesn't deserve Lloyd. In Juno, I love Bleeker almost as much as I love Lloyd, and Juno is totally boss, so she beats Diane by a landslide. Now I don't know what my favorite movie of all time is.

Then again, Say Anything has Peter Gabriel. Juno does not. Hmm...

Song of the Day:

"Things will happen for reasons that she will never understand until she learns that the heart of a woman can never be found in the arms of a man." -Vanessa Carlton, "Rinse"

I'll Just Write This Down

What is the matter with me? I have nothing else to do, and I have an idea all cooked up in my noggin, and yet I can't bring myself to sit down and write the story, due tomorrow mind you, for the lit mag. For my lit mag, no less, as I'm one of the editors.

And also I'm sad because I bound off BFF's birthday scarf, and all that is left to do is weave in the ends and find a way to block it, and I finished the swatch for my Summertime Tunic, so I have nothing to knit until that blocks.

It is a sad day when there is nothing to knit.

My gauge was a little off on my swatch. It was 24 stitches x 36 rounds per 4 in., and it's supposed to by 22 x 30. I don't think the rounds really matter that much though, because the pattern calls for you to knit for a certain number of inches, not a certain number of rounds. And I'm hoping the stitches will even themselves out with some good, old-fashioned blocking. I'm really hoping.

Grrr.... got to go write that damn story.

Song of the Day:
"I'll just write this down in hopes that you'll understand. I will no longer be disciplined by the frustrations of an insecure man." -Maria Mena, "Our Battles"

I Never Liked Your Hair

You know what gets my goat?

The fact that I'm planning on spending over a hundred thousand dollars to learn how to write better because writing is my passion, and the fact that I am one of the three editors-in-chief of my high school's literary magazine, and yet, now that my submission for the lit mag is due in two days, not only have I not even thought about starting it, but I have no idea what to write about.

This is supposed to be what I do. I am supposed to be a writer with some knitting and balloon creations thrown in. And yet...

Maybe it's due to the fact that I spent the better part of the past three months forming an advertisement campaign to convince other people to submit to the lit that I forgot that I'm supposed to submit as well. Or maybe it's that I've gotten so caught up in scarves and summertime tunics that I've lost all interest in anything else for a minute. But I'm sure it doesn't have anything to do with the fact that Little Buddy is in the next room over plucking on a damn guitar that has 35 year old damn strings that need to be damn tuned, and every time I yell at him to stop he gets LOUDER!

No. I'm sure it's not that.

Speaking of gee-tars, Boyfriend keeps talking about getting one and taking lessons, to which I can only say, "Hell-a yes!" I have such a thing for boys with guitars. Oh, and it's good to learn an instrument because it helps you improve in other areas of your life. Or at least that's what the letter the superintendent of our school sent out today said. That, and you're not supposed to watch more than two hours of non-educational television a day.

Yup. Break out the Bill Nye.

Also, I feel as though having a guitar-playing boyfriend will help to complete my transformation into hippie-dom. Because, honestly, I think I would have made a good hippie if I was born a few dozen years earlier. I like peace, not a big fan of war, I'm becoming increasingly interested in making my own clothes, and I believe that if my curls were manageable, they'd be boring, which has to fall into the hippie philosophy somewhere.

I'm not so hopped up about the idea of drugs, and free love, and not showering, and communes. But other than that I could totally be a hippie.

Oh, and hemp. I'm not a fan of hemp.

Maybe the word I'm looking for is Democrat. But I'm too much of a hippie to believe in labels.

Song of the Day:
"And I never liked your hair, or those people that you lie with, but I'm not satisfied until I hold you tight." - The Killers, "Leave Your Bourbon on the Shelf"

You Know the Movie Song

I have never been so overwhelmed in my life.

And no, not because I spent an inordinate of time blowing up an inordinate amout of balloons this weekend. Even though I did.

Boyfriend took me to my real live LYS today.

!!!!!

As I've mentioned here before, I'm not a highway driver. There are too many crazy drivers doing crazy things, and I am just not up for that. I take defensive driving very seriously. As a result, I rock the craft store acrylic.

But I really wanted to make that pretty tank top, and the acrylic and wool that I would have gotten at Michael's would a) be too warm, and b) not hold up very well. It's okay for a scarf or a hat or something that I'm not going to wash every time I use it (not good, but okay), but not for this.

I told Boyfriend, and he took me. He volunteered to take me. I didn't even have to ask him. I have to keep him around.

Of course, the yarn isn't the only reason why I have to keep him around. Just one of them.

So we go there, and we were greeted by this extremely nice woman who was so full of energy that she made her little converted barn seem so much bigger than it really was.

The shop was a barn behind her house, that was every inch of wall space was covered with shelves and shelves of yarn. There was even yarn hanging down from the ceiling. And it was all so pretty.

I showed her the pattern, and she showed me three yarns that would work well with it within five minutes of me walking in the door.

I never would have thought to pick out those yarns on my own. She was so knowledgable, and so friendly, and so helpful, that I want to keep going back there. She even told me that if I ever had a problem with a pattern, I could come and she would help me with it.

I might love her.

And all the yarn. I didn't know yarn like this existed. She had Debbie Bliss, and Berroco, and Manos de Uruguay, and I think some Rowan, but I could be wrong about that. She knew just how much of it I had to buy, too. Including enough for a swatch for gauge.

Then, she took me around and had me feel all of the diffent kinds of yarn. I had no idea that alpaca and merino yarns were soft. Like, really soft. Like, Caron Simply Soft soft. The merino that the craft stores have is kind of scratchy, and I'm not even sure they have any alpaca.

I am a changed knitter. I have an LYS.

This is what I bought:

Isn't it pretty?!?!?!?!

As soon as I finish BFF's birthday scarf (which is almost done), I'm going to start working on the top until I find a coupon to Michael's so that I can buy yarn for my grandpa's hat.

I still don't know what I'm going to do about blocking the scarf, because it's so so curly on the edges, but I don't want to wet it or steam it and have the teal and purple bleed into the grey. Sounds like a job for Vogue Knitting!!!

And in college news, I talked to Shelly about the scholarship that I got to Second Choice, and about how I didn't want to just throw it away. But she thinks that, for what I want to do, Dream School is really the only place for me, and that she'd hate to see me not go there.

It's good to know that Shelly and Pharmacy Pete won't get mad if I have to take out loans that I'll have to pay back until I'm dead.

If I don't go to Dream School, I'm so afraid that I'll never be able to get published. And if I can't published, how can I save the world? Writing is the only thing I know how to do that can influence and inspire people. I want to help people, and save them in anyway that I can. I want to inspire them to do great things, and I want to save the world from all of the hate and crap that goes on.

I have a while to decide, anyway. But I think I know what I'm doing.

I bet my LYS lady would know what to tell me.

Song of the day:

"Juliet, when we made love you used to cry. You said, 'I love you like the stars above, I'll love you till I die'. There's a place for us, you know the movie song. When you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong?" - Dire Straits, "Romeo and Juliet"

Morning Walks and Bedroom Talks

When I applied to college this fall, I applied to four schools: Dream School, two schools that I didn't like as much as Dream School but will go to if I have to, and one school that I only applied to because it is 20 minutes from my house and I felt like I wasn't applying to enough schools. I got into Dream School and one of my second choices a while ago, and today I just heard from the other second choice.

I got in... and their going to give me an annual $16,000 scholarship to go there. Which is great, except that I'd rather go to Dream School, who hasn't given me anything.


Dream School has such a better writing program than Second Choice does. If I go there, I know that I'll have a better shot at getting a job in a publishing company and then eventually publishing a book. But I'll have to take out thousands and thousands of dollars worth of loans just to pay for it, when I can take out less and go to Second Choice.

I don't know what to do. It seems crazy to want to pay so much more money than I have to, but at the same time, I've always wanted to go to Dream School.

Grrrr.

I'll never be able to afford yarn again. Even Simply Soft with a coupon, as is my style.

Speaking of which, in recent knitting endeavors, I have come to realize how tedious stockinette is. I started knitting a scarf for BFF's birthday not that long ago, and I did it all in stockinette so that I could make sure it would be done for her birthday, which is only in a few weeks. And that's super and everything, and it's going quickly, but it's so boring. Really. I am a cable girl, and without any cables, I am just bored.

It is pretty though. Dull as it is, there's something to be said for the purity of stockinette.

And can I just say, that these pictures were not easy to procure? My sweet little purple Kodak was being so moody and tempermental. I don't know what has gotten into her.

And also the scarf is so very rolly. Can you even block acrylic?

Hmm... I just did the math, and realized that over 4 years, I will save $64,000 by going to Second Choice. That's a lot of yarn. And a car. And a wedding.

Or think of all the puppies I could get with that kind of money. Lots!

Song of the Day:
"But we sure had a good time when we started way back when. Morning walks and bedroom talks were how I loved you then." -Jim Croce, "Photographs and Memories"

Concrete All Around

So.... guess how many people came into to my balloon gig on Monday? Go on, guess.

That's right! Five. Maybe. If that. And two of them were returning things. I guess people just aren't devoted enough to party planning to risk their lives driving in a not-even-that-bad-anymore-the-roads-are-mostly-cleaned-up snow storm. Go figure.

I did get to stock Easter stuff, though. And I will say this - there is a lot of crap you can buy to make your Easter Egg Hunt super special. For instance, a can of white spray paint that they jack up the price on because they call it "Easter Egg Hunt Starting Line Paint." Or something to that idiotic effect.

But at any rate, that means spring is coming soon, and I am super glad. How in love am I with this? And it's a free pattern, which just about rocks my socks right off my feet. Speaking of which, I keep meaning to try to make socks. I just have too many projects going right now. Scarves take up a crap load of time!!!!! I keep saying I'm not going to make anymore, and then I do. Inevitably. Damn my lack of self-restraint.

Song of the Day:
"Now I've drunk a lot of wine and Im feeling fine, got to race some cat to bed. Oh is there concrete all around, or is it in my head." - Mott the Hoople, "All the Young Dudes"

Let the Cold Winds Blow

Snow day!!!! And I have to say, looking out and seeing all of this snow, it's a little bit of a relief. Last week, it was in the 50s and 60s all week, and even though it was nice not having to wear a down coat whenever I wanted to check the mail, it had me worried about global warming. Marshmallow was worried to, but he does have an invested interest, being a polar bear and all.

Plus I missed my scarf.

We found out last night that there was no school today when Shelly, Pharmacy Pete and I were watching Jon and Kate Plus Eight on TLC (I get exhausted just watching that show. God bless them for their patience), and Shelly flipped over to our local public access station, where they had posted a notice about it.

Even though I have to go into the party store later on (in order to serve the zero people who are going to come in for all their party and balloon needs. Oh, and also to make sure that the candy department doesn't fall into a state of total and complete disarray, as it is apt to do when I, as the candy department specialist, am not around.), I kind of wanted to start working on writing something. Anything. An outline for a new book, or a story for my school's lit mag, anything. I'm jonesing for some good fiction. But instead, I have a crap load of other stuff to get done. Like finish BFF's scarf for her birthday, which is in the beginning of February, and it's already the middle of January (which, oh by the way, how did that happen?). Or spend some quality time with College Board searching for scholarships. Or read the two Ayn Rand books that Shelly got me that, if I read them and write essays about them, I could win some pretty decent scholarships. The only problem is that, together, they're almost two thousand pages long, and the print is so small that it's almost impossible to read. But if it means I can afford Dream College, then it's worth it. Hopefully.

I'm probably just going to end up watching Clark and Michael until work anyway. I'm very productive.

Song of the Day:
"If you were the winter, I know I'd be the snow, just as long as you were with me, let the cold winds blow." - Barry Louis Polisar, "All I Want is You"

Thoughts that Drift Away

Good news on the party store gig! I am now the official candy department specialist.

Please hold your applause. I am not done and it is distracting.

I went into work yesterday, and my manager said, "Have I got a job for you!" To which I was all, "Super!" Because nothing good ever comes from that statement. In fact, it usually involves me climbing a ladder, or doing something equally capable of resulting in injury to my clumsy self.

But all she did was hand me a clipboard with a plan-o-gram (a diagram showing exactly which products go exactly where in a five foot section of shelves, for all of you minions who are not candy department specialists. Though I am told by Shelly that all retail stores use plan-o-grams. Silly Shelly. How does she not know that I, as the lone candy department specialist at my beloved balloon store, am the only one in the world capable of understanding and utilizing a plan-o-gram?), and told me to fix the candy section, as it was in complete disarray.

And, in fact, the six five-foot sections of candy were all disasters. There was candy there that did not belong there, candy that was supposed to be there wasn't, it was all just messy.

I got the impression that she thought that the job was going to be big and long and difficult by the way she kept looking at me nervously as she told me what I was supposed to be doing, as though I was going to yell at her for suggesting that I perform such a ridiculous and impossible task. But it wasn't that bad at all. I cleaned and organized the whole thing, found the missing candy, and found homes for the extra candy, while all the while I was making balloons and ringing up customers while our credit card satellites were down, making it so that it took twice as long to ring up customers paying with cards.

Basically, it wasn't a big deal. At least not for a candy department specialist like myself.

But my manager was all like, "Susan, this looks so neat. You did a really good job today." Then she told me that candy was going to be my department from now on, which means that, on top of the cashiering and balloon-making and stocking and general cleaning that I was already doing, it's my responsibility to make sure that the candy stays clean and organized.

I'm pretty sure that this means I make an extra 25 cents an hour, but, more importantly, it means that I get to attach a flag to my name tag that says "DEPARTMENT SPECIALIST."

AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

It made my day.

And my weekend.

And most likely all of next week.

In other recent news, Clark and Michael is my new favorite thing. I love Michael Cera. He's so subtly funny that he's ten times more hilarious than he would be if he was loud.

Song of the day:
"Am I alive or thoughts that drift away? Does summer come for everyone? Can humans do as prophets say?" - Primitive Radio Gods, "Standing Outside a Broken Phonebooth with Money in my Hand"

You Know You're Already My Obsession

So I woke up today and my shoulders were killing me, and heck if I knew why. It felt like I'd been doing some serious crazy push-ups, which I assure I was not.

I told Shelly, and she said, "Well didn't you go ice skating in gym yesterday?"

And it's true I did go ice skating in gym yesterday. Sort of.

The city skating rink (just one of many three things to do here) is right behind the high school, so we all signed our little permission slips, and made the tredge over during gym class.

Turns out, though, I can't skate. And I don't know why I'm surprised that I can't skate. Granted, I took a few years of skating lessons, but that was a long time ago, and I spent most of those lessons crying about how I didn't want to do it. Plus I had a very mean teacher who yelled a lot, despite the fact that I had assumed right off the bat that she must be nice because she had the same first name as my grandma on Pharmacy Pete's side.

Last year, I went ice skating with Boyfriend and his family on an outdoor skating pond (not located in our silly little city, but a couple dozen miles north in a not so silly city). I spent of the time on my butt, before I finally told Boyfriend to go skate with his brother, and I would go sit with his mom. But what I learned was that, without Boyfriend holding onto my hand, I couldn't even stand up at all, nevermind avoid falling in my feeble attempts to remove myself from the ice. Plus, what I didn't know was that skating traffic only goes in one direction when I started going the opposite way because I had just passed the exit, so I was skating against an extremely large group of people, as this was a crowded day for this particular skating pond.

Then I accidently grabbed on to some random woman so that I wouldn't fall. Lucky for me, and for her, she knew what she was doing, and didn't mind that I had completely just grabbed onto her arm like I'd known her for years. To this day, she is still one of my heroes, next to Jesus and Pat Benatar and Eric Clapton of course, for being so nice to me, when she easily could have shaken me off and humilated me beyond how I had already humiliated myself.

So, long story short, I spent the whole gym class pulling myself around the rink with the railing on the side. Which is why me shoulders hurt. Which seems unfair when I stop to consider that there was this girl in my class who kept saying "This is my first time ice skating ever!" while all the while she was skating laps around me, and didn't fall once.

I didn't fall either, though, which is an improvement. And by the end, I could even take one hand off of the rail. My gym teacher was not nearly as impressed by this as I was.

Song of the day:
"You know you're already my obsession. Stop using sex as a weapon." -Pat Benatar, "Sex as a Weapon"

I'm Pushing an Elephant Up the Stairs

Seeing as this blog is one-fourth knitting, I think I should brief you on my knitting endeavors.

On my 13th or 14th birthday, my grandparents (on Pharmacy Pete's side) gave me a teach-youself-to-knit kit. With a little help from Shelly and my grandma on her side of the family, I learned the basic cast on, knit, purl, and bind off. I then proceeded to lose all interest in the craft until a few months ago, which, for the record, was years later.

And here is what I've done so far...

(Turn your head to see this picture please. Or, don't, I guess. It's not that great of a picture.)

This is the Alexi scarf from Berroco. I made it with Caron Simply Soft, which is only acrylic, but I love it with all of my heart because it is so soft, and so pretty, and so in my inflating-balloons-for-a-career budget. I don't have a LYS, mostly because getting to the one closest to me would require driving on the highway, which I'm not about to do. So, I rely heavily on Michael's and A.C. Moore, especially when they put 40% off coupons in the paper.

Don't judge.

Between my knitting and my coupons, I could swear I'm an 80 year old trapped in a high schooler's body. Which, when you think about it, is a little gross, but if I was 80, that's just the kind of situation I would like to be in.

Anyway, upon seeing my lovely, soft, pink scarf, Shelly went out to A.C. Moore and picked up some more Simply Soft for this lovely gem....

This is the Ticuna scarf from Berroco.

Shelly doesn't want her face to appear in this blog. It's not like it's gross and disfigured or anything, she just hates pictures.

And then I was bored with scarves. I saw a girl come into my balloon-filled workplace wearing the cutest hat, that I loved very much. I didn't get to ask her where she got it from, though, as she was not super friendly (how can you not be happy in a party store? Where I am working and therefore providing you with astounding customer service????). I couldn't find it in any of the stupid stores in the stupid mall of this stupid city, so I found a pattern for the closest thing I could find, which I might love even more than the original.

LE SLOUCH!!!!

Boyfriend's sister liked it so much that I made her one too, only in cream. It's just Lion's Brand Wool, and it takes less than a skein and about two days plus blocking time to make it.

Note the random lines of stockinette running through what is supposed to be seed stitch. But, in all fairness, it was my first time knitting on a round, and I wasn't even using dp's like I was supposed to. Boyfriend gave me the Boye set of circular needles that has every size imaginable for my birthday, and I didn't want to go out and spend the money on something I already had that would do the job exactly the same way. However, that resulted in the holes in the top that had to be sewn up after blocking. Good job Susan. Top notch.

Boyfriend's really good at gifts like that. For instance, this Christmas? Panini maker.

And also, that stud-muffin of a teddy bear is my buddy Marshmallow. As he is a boy bear, he doesn't appreciate me using him as a model for my girl hat. He agreed, however, because he wants to spread the word that he is very upset that his polar bear relatives are dying because the polar ice caps are melting. His relatives have no where to sit and stop swimming, so they drown. On that note, please recycle and stop buying big boats of cars. Marshmallow will thank you for it.

Next up is a hat for my grandfather, a scarf for my BFF's birthday, a scarf for my grandmother, a hat for my other grandmother, maybe that cute new clutch from Knitty, yadda yadda yadda...

And maybe I should think about improving my photography skills. But, at this point, I really do not need another interest. A girl can only have so many before she begins to neglect her prior commitments like, oh you know, school... Boyfriend... sleeping. Nothing too important though.

Song of the day:
"I'm pushing an elephant up the stairs. I'm tossing up punchlines that were never there. Over my shoulder a piano falls, crashing to the ground." -R.E.M., "The Great Beyond"

We Sure Are Cute For Two Ugly People

I decided to do this blog because I just saw Juno. And besides being one of the best movies ever (next to Say Anything, course), I heard the writer, Diablo Cody, say in an interview that she was a stripper, writing a blog about stripping, and someone read it and asked her to write a screen play. Not about stripping.

I am not a stripper. I promise. And I don't expect that someone important will read this blog and decide, "Oh, that's it! Get her in here and get her published." In fact, Diablo Cody is the only person that I've ever heard of that happening to. But regardless, I figured that it can't be a bad idea to have this mode of expression, where I can practice writing for an audience.

Here's the deal-i-o... writing is my passion. Knitting is my interest. One of the many. I go to high school, I get good grades, I bide my time until graduation. I've been accepted into one of the best writing colleges in my area (which is filled with good schools to begin with) for creative writing. Which is super.... too bad I need to find the money. Anyone who would like to pay to send me to college is more than welcome to!

No takers? Hmm... I'm shocked.

I live with my parents, Pharmacy Pete and Shelly, and my little brother, who I most commonly refer to as "Little Buddy." I have a boyfriend, who will hereby be called "Boyfriend," who I love very much.

Blah blah blah... all that stuff.

I also blow up balloons and assist customers, a.k.a. "party guests," in purchasing party supplies.
When I'm not working, I'm writing. When I'm not writing, I'm knitting, on account of the methodical movements of knitting give me the opportunity to think of new ideas to write. And also cables really impress people. Like, more than they should.

And I always have a song stuck in my head. Always. Usually all it takes is someone saying one word to me, and I launch into a song that somehow incorporates that word. Today the song is from Juno, by the Moldy Peaches, called "Anyone Else But You." It's a Juno kind of day!

I know. You are all marveling at my amazingness. Please, try to contain yourselves.

Song of the day:
"Here is the church and here is the steeple. We sure are cute for two ugly people." - Moldy Peaches, "Anyone Else But You