••• Friday, October 01, 2004

Gnitting Gnus (or I Said I'd Finish You, But I Lied)
I really really really really was planning on finishing my husband's afghan before starting another project. I really really really really want to be done with this task, moreso than even my husband. But...my niece is having a baby in November and our family's having a little shower gathering for her in October (which is, uh, now?) and I kneed to knitter a little something. And my husband says he can live with a lap warmer for now.

The sewing of the garter squares ain't been pretty. The mattress stitch is not so easy on mis-sized garter squares, sewn horizon to vertical. In fact, it's downright fugly in some spots (so you'll never see this piece close up. Nope.) I finally started using a very delicate overcast stitch, which looks about 1000 to 1047 times better than the mattress stitch.

For the baby to be, I'm making the Flax Jax from Falick/Nichols' Knitting for Baby book. It's a very quick knit, all in one piece until the arm holes and the sleeves are picked up at said holes and knit down, in the round. The yarn is just Encore. I'm hoping to find some cool buttons to jazz it up, but I like simple textures for babies.

You Spin Me Redrum, Baby, Redrum...
Actually, I don't have much to say here, on the big Duh-Bate. Ya see, I didn’t watch it. And Lord knows, I tried.

My son, who turns 18 on Tuesday (and will be voting next month), was watching the debate in his bedroom and had came down to see if I was watching. I told him I had tried, but couldn’t stomach it.

First of all, I owe my son an apology of sorts, because I couldn’t wrap my brain around the fact that he was watching the debate without someone making him do so. I bet I asked him three times, in some manner, “Is this part of an assignment?”

Nope. I want to see what they have to say, he said.

I offered him a seat so we could watch it together, but he declined (No doubt there were 27 of his closest friends, screenhanging from his computer monitor as we spoke.) After he went back upstairs, I felt a small wave of shame wash oer me. Seems I was being out-civicked by my teenaged son. So I set out to tune back in.

Hmm…now, what channel was that on again?

Click. Oh yeah, there it is.

Click. Oh yeah, there it goes.

Ten seconds into my second viewing attempt, I witnessed our president drink from an empty glass. Somehow, I took this as a remote message. From God.

So I grabbed the remote and switched back to VH-1’s the Surreal Life just in time to see the perpetually trashed Bridgitte Nielsen, in a leopard print bathing suit, roll/flop/hump around on the floor with a puppy, while several children looked on. Apparently there's nobody drinkin' from empty glasses ‘round here.

::All I’ze got to say is I hope I look this good at 41. 61. And yes, she’s naked under that apron.::

I did watch some talking head chit, post-debate, in hopes of a catching a quick-n-dirty summary. What I heard was the pre-spin on the post-spin, which was that the outspin can't really be spun out until the spindoctors are done. This spin will take a couple weeks, at least.

So the best spin wins?
Did I get that right?
Pass the Drama Mine.

Move over Bridgitte, it’s time to Drink Drop and Roll. And try to keep your boobs on your side of the bed. K?

This post edited to make some sense, later in the day of 10-1-04.

Labels: ,

Comments: Post a Comment