Feh.*

Random Sludge
I’ve been a little under the weather the past week, suffering from some kind of gluey, sinus sludge. And as this substance makes a slow and less-than gracious exit from my body, I can’t help but worry that I'm actually expelling brain glue; essential material for holding together the bits and pieces of my brain. ::With the help of some twigs, yarn and duct tape.::

::But I will say that DayQrunk is my new best friend. MmmMm...How I loves me some warmy orange.::

I’ve also been physically and mentally busy with work and home issues. The worst of the physical work stuff is almost winding down. Almost. I have cranked out three reports in the last two days, with no coming up for air in between.

But the emotional work is yet to come, when our department will have take a hard look at the full impact of losing two full time staff for next year.

The home situation is complicated, and getting moreso by the hour it seems. At the risk of being cryptic, I can only say that we have some changes going on in someone's (not me) professional venue. These are good changes, in light of what was soon to become a dire circumstance. But not so great when considering the wider scope of someone's hopes and dreams and in the interest of optimal family function.

Again, I'm sorry for the vague-y ness,but that's all can say, and really, the whole story is kind of boring. Unless, of course, you’re living it.

Truth be, we are both grateful and relieved for this Timely Save and will not be looking this Blessing Horse in the mouth, any time soon.

It's complicated.
And emotion sucking.
And thought plucking.

Random Dudes on Couches
Meanwhile, College Tumor Boy is home, as of Saturday. Following are stats related his return, to date:

1-Number of jobs applied for.
0-Number of jobs procured.
3-Number of times he has reminded me that his uncle has offered to pay him 200 bucks to powerwash his deck this summer, so no worries if he can’t find a real job.
1-Number of laptops he owns.
0-Number of laptops he owns which have been unpacked and fired up.
1-Number of laptops I own
0-Number of laptops I own, to which I currently enjoy full access.
1.5-Number of boxes of Town House crackers consumed.
1-Number of jars of peanut butter consumed.
13-Number of times I have heard "What's to eat in this house?"
0-Number of unemployed friends currently in town for the summer, with whom he might be able to hang, off my couch. Away from my home.
1-Number of vehicles as yet unpacked of all worldly goods, minus the as-of-yet-unfired-up laptop and a bottle of acne medicine.
1579-Number of times I have said to self “How handy it is that all his belongings are still in his car, in the event of Sudden Homelessness?”
14-Number of hours per day spent listening to screaming sportscasters on my T.V.
5-3/4-Number of total feet taken up on the couch, while sleeping to the sound of screaming sportscasters on my T.V.
5-Approximate hour of the morning he goes to bed.
3-Approximate hour of the afternoon he awakens.
.5-Number of bottles of my hooch he has consumed.
6-Number of times he has used the word “tweak” in describing his observation of my increasingly destabilizing emotional presentation in response to all of the above.
0-Amount of hope in possession, that any of this will be changing soon, except maybe the numbers.

Random Time Passing
I meant to post about this way last week, but I was busy with an unglued brain. So let's just pretend it happened two days ago, and call it good. K?

The weekend with My Circle of Brain was a wonderful treat, but a bit more subdued than our maidenhead voyage back in January.In hindsight, a bit more subdued might be a good thing, in that any attempts to match or surpass on previous crazy, could have resulted in someone getting hurt, or arrested or famous.

And because we were guests in someone else's home, it was probably best to keep Kristi off her high horse, and the sanitary products stuck to the proper side of our underwears, and Kellie from shooting/posting recordings of activities that could get someone hurt, arrested or famous.

But there was plenty of fun to be had.
And good drink.
And, of course, good company.

Kellie did write up a picture-laden, detailed summary of our all too brief time together. Scroll down for a picture of me, popping my freak in a new pair of sunglasses that are just about bigger than my head.

:: The following will make more sense if you read Kellie’s post. ::

In honor of our surviving the weekend together, I have created a new scarf design:

Drama on the High (Neuro) Seas: A Pattern
1) Cast on an odd number of stitches, depending on your width preferences.

2) If you are really confused about how many stitches you should cast on, ask your friends their opinion about how many stitches you should cast on.

3) Argue with each and every solicited opinion about how many stitches you should cast on, then come up with a 4th option, all on your own. Cast on that amount of stitches.

4) Repeat the High (Neuro) Seas pattern (see below) until you reach desired length, but not long enough for someone to use against you in an attempted homicide.

High (Neuro) Seas Stitch Pattern:
1) Row 1: purl

2) Row 2: k3 *k2tog, yo * to last 7 stitches, then knit whatever the fuck you feel like, to the end of the row.

3) Row 3: Purl

4) Row 4: Knit 7, *k2tog, yo* until confused, or something goes wrong, or something goes right when you're sure it should be wrong. Hand project to Sue so she can figure out what is wrong. When Sue tells you what is wrong and how to fix it, *knit any series of stitch pattern combinations that you desire, EXCEPT whatever Sue told you to do to fix it. * Repeat between * * to the end of the row.

5) Row 5: Purl

6) Repeat row 2.

7) Repeat row 3.

8) Rip entire project and swear a lot.

9) Ask three friends for suggestions on another garment that could be made from the yarn.

10) Argue with every piece of solicited input.

11) Decide to give Montego Drama on the High (Neuro) Seas another shot.

12) Cast on an odd number of stitches, depending on your width preferences.

13) If you are really confused about exactly how many stitches you should cast on, ask your friends how many stitches you should cast on.

14) If you are given three different numbers from your three different friends, argue with each opinion, then come up with a 4th option, all on your own. Cast on that amount of stitches. WARNING: The number of stitches for this cast-on SHOULD NOT match any previous number suggested by friends from this, or previous cast-on solicitations. Not following this step could result in...well...never mind. How much worse can it get, really? But still, it helps to write these things down.

15) Repeat steps 1-14 until you run out of yarn, friends, booze or are deprived of oxygen against your will by a trio of known assailants.

16) Cast off and slap self on your very flat ass, 3 times.**

Random Inapprorpriateness

*I never heard of this Feh thing until I started reading blogs.I assume it means the opposite of Squee. Squee is another expression that is new to me. It makes me think of going pee, then thinking you're all done and wrapping it up, then realizing there is still some pee. So you squeeze it out. That is Squee. To me.

**Sorry to be so long in the wind, but just because I’m busy, doesn’t mean I don’t have things to say. Just no time to say them.

Labels: Bitchmom Screampants, From My Loins, I Can Haz Frends?, I Work Too, Unhealth, Wild aRandoment

Cabana brought home a bouquet of flowers last Friday, to help warm up a welcome for my new friends. All this week, those old buds provided a warm (and sometimes giggly)reminder of my new buds, as well as a notable sense of sad that the party had come and gone, already.

They started going bad a couple of days ago ::The flowers, not the friends. I'm pretty sure that ship done sailed long ago.::, but I couldn't bring myself to throw them away.

Today I finally had to do it, but only after I snapped a couple buds to remember.



P.OMG.S. Franklin is in Lansing, MI as I type, a mere 55 minutes away, sans inclement weather and speed limits. He's going to be at The Fabulous T-Bears, taking pictures for his 1,000 knitters book. I can't decide if I should go...

Labels: eye candy Friday, I Can Haz Frends?

1. The Horsemen Knew Her.



While that particular bit of education was a blast in the learning, when I woke up Sunday morning with swollen brain, cotton mouth and a pocket full of cartoon-faced maxi-pad, I determined The Horsemen to be of apocalypse ilk.

2. Sure,She's Cute (and Photogenic!), But Keep an Eye Out.



Saturday night in the Motel room, while some of us embarked upon an evening of interpersonal growth and spiritual renewal, Kel was typing us all up on the internetz!

::Please read her post for a general overview of our weekend, pre-Apocalypse Riders. And for the record, I'm only copping to the Tequila statement.::

2. She is the Best Laugher I Ever Snorted.



And how that woman got me sharing stuff known only to a husband, a couple of lesbians and an aloe plant, is still beyond me. All within the first hour of our meetup. Pre-alcohol.

3. I Can Entertain Guests Without Anyone Dying.



Just so you know, Kristi couldn't see a thing when that picture was taken. She did make a gallant effort to pretend otherwise, by remarking on the traffic going past the house, as observed out the picture window in the living room.

So wasn't she surprised to learn that the window faces the back yard?
Yeah. She was.

4. I Need to Hone My Multi-Tasking Skills in the Social Milieu.

This is going to be a sock for my husband.



I cast on for this sock Saturday evening in the motel room, around 6:30. After casting on, I recount the cast on stitches about 347 times. Except for brief intervals of pee and mandated moments of entertainment, I held on to this sock-to-be for the duration of the evening, with every intention of joining the ends and knitting at least a round.

In retrospect, I think I didn't complete the join because on some meta-conscious level I needed the needles straight, to serve as a psychological handle bar to which I clung for dear life for the rest of the night. In a good way.

5. We Could All Use a Little More Ass Slapping, Cheer Clapping, Pony Hopping, Tea Snarking, Yarn Skanking, Pants Pissing and Love Dishing, in Our Lives.

Thank you, friends.

Labels: I Can Haz Frends?, KUI, That's Why I Don't Get Out Much, The Horsemen Knew Her

Thursday Edition
But on Friday.

Just as my brain's been pickling in the brine of fatigue all week, so has this post been stewing in the juices of my draft post bin.

So let it be said, I have had a busy week. Monday was Open House at the school where I work, which went until 9. Tuesday was Blah-Blah-Blah Night at Cakers' school. And Wednesday I had a 7 a.m. meeting and had to stay late for another one. No wonder it's been so hard to get my workday rhythm going.

So on With the Show, This is It.

More Faloozies.

On the left is Sharon, who is knitting some lovely Sharon Stuff, while wearing it. That's right. I met Sharon briefly once before, and it was nice to be able to spend some time with her. Sharon is a very busy woman. After our party, she headed off to Contradance ::In case you didn't know, Contradance is dancing to music played by a Contraband.:: Sarah told me that sometimes the dance group will have a little party, which is called a Contraception. ::Not only are these Lansingites great knitters, thayze smarts to.::



Next to Sharon is Who's-Tonya?-Toya. A funny delight, that one. ::Watch for more on her. In the news.::

Here's another one of Sharon and some people I didn't get to meet personally, but it seems that they are all named a variation of Kelly**.



See the woman with the beautiful, aubergine, luminescent hair? I took about 6 pictures of her, but I'm not going to show them all, because that would make me weird.

But I will show you this one:



I kind of wish I would've introduced myself. Then again, I'm kind of glad I didn't introduce myself, but only because if I had, I may have been compelled to ask her if I could roll my face, ever so gently, into her luminosity. Of course, everyone would then understand why I don't get out much, and when I do, that I tend to keep to myself. And indeed, the self-imposed isolation is for the better.

This here is Deana.



I would've liked to have talked to her some more, but after I inadvertantly snapped that shot of her performing a local variation of the Slappa Cho Fertility Dance, we both felt kind of self-conscious.

There was another lovely woman named Carolyn, who walked around all afternoon, slinging her adorable, well-knit baby in a baby slinger, whilst knitting. As evidenced here.

When I told Cabana about Carolyn's well-balanced skills, he said "Good thing you never tried that. I can just see me having to frog Cakers off of you..." Gosh, I love that man. He so gets me, yet still loves me.

Knitterfa Looty
I was only able to crawl to one yarn joint. But just getting around the yarn acreage of Threadbear really is a day trip onto itself.

Whenever I go there, it always takes me awhile to get my Threadbearings, and this trip was no different. The place is huge. And the sales... ::sigh::. I bet I loaded and unloaded my basket three times, after coming upon an even better deal than the current load.

I settled on Mission Falls, which they were practically giving away. The reddish is designated for a cable sweater for me, and the greenish will be a baby hat.



This stuff was also on sale, and will soon become a Mimi Long Gone scarf for mi mom.



And I bought this Chic Knits pattern, which up until today, was only available through venders. That other one is a Mac n Me scarf pattern. ::I hope the Ribby Pulli pattern has the short sleeved, scoop-neck version.::



Of course, the highlight of any visit to Threadbear is having some time with the Bears themselves, Rob and Matt. I also had a nice visit with a friend of theirs, with a lovely name which currently escapes me. ::Reason #47 that I suck at social: I forget people's names. Unless you're the Kelly who 30 minutes after waiting on me at the store, was sitting next to me at the party! She's a real sweetie, with a great attitude, in spite of having spent her entire 6th grade year isolated in a tunnel under the middle school.*::

If you haven't had enough, there is also a Flickr page designated to this event.

And now I'm done.

*More inside shit. Sorry. But not really.

**Totally made up.

Special Word to Kristi, Sue and Kelly, please don't plan the City Knitting visit this weekend. I'm going north for a belated anniversary treat, via a weekend of drinking and scrumping romantic celebration. I plan to return home with nothing less than a hangover happy glow and a full blown UTI heart full of special memories.

Labels: I Can Haz Frends?

Don’t you just hate it when a knit blogger posts about some social event, where people you’d like to meet, are meeting other people you’d like to meet?

Along with the upbeat, friendly narrative of these posts, there is the usual peppering of inside jokes and innuendo, the hilarity of which can only be known to those who attended. When I read those posts, I usually feel happy for the depicted participants, but also a bit left out. Lonely, if you will. Paranoid, even.

For that very reason I have mixed feelings about writing this post. There's a part of me that wants to be sensitive to the feelings and interest level of all 17 of my loyal readers. And there's another part that wants to say "Na Na Boo Boo. It's my turn now."

Na Na Boo Boo won.

And here we are.

The Faloozy Collection

Supreme High Priestess of the Knitter Faloozies.
Kristi.

She flips.



She thrusts.



She struts her stuff, y'all.



And she has ree ree white teeth.

::Just a thought for any future events: Keeping Kristi occupied with an important job keeps her away from the sauce. At least for awhile.::

The Minor Faloozies
I'm typically uncomfortable in a new social situation and usually creep around the periphery of said activity, until I find a safe spot to merge. For those of you with similar behavior patterns,I have figured out the perfect cure for situational shyness: Find the loudest, scariest, smart assiest person in the room, plop thyself down right next to her, and fasten your seat belt.

My cure has a name: Dirty Sue.



::Dirty Sue is not at all shy. Most powerful, smart-assicle beings have their own version of kryptonite. The camera happens to be Sue's kryptonite. And did you know she used to date Ozzie Osbourne? Stole him right away from Sharon. That's right. The bat head thing was actually her idea. After she tired of him, she kicked his ass home, and never looked back.* I know.::

What Kristi is to The Sauce elegant entertaining or Dirty Sue to bat cave savagery, Sarah is to knitting finesse. Seriously. And she's a fine smartass, to boot.



Postus Interruptus
I really meant to finish this post tonight. But I can't. I just finished a 14 hour day at work and don't have the witherall to rub two thoughts together. Stay tuned tomorrow (or the next day. Or so.) when we venture into the Mid-Michigan knitting underworld, in search of mystery woman Tonya*. ::Between you and me, I think some people know more than what they're lettin' on, regarding Tonya's true identity and probable whereabouts. cough-Toya-cough.::

Which reminds me, what ever happened to the stranger with the jumper cables?*

Also, in Part II, I'll be sharing more pictures, as well as the froots of my booty call, from the yarn crawl.

Please note that this post is going to press with little to no proofing or editing and rights reserved to clean it up later.

*May be an inside joke or something I just made up, with no contextual relevance to anything.

Labels: I Can Haz Frends?