Saturday, March 31, 2007
And Apollo listened! Today he came home from shopping and handed me a small pizza box saying, "I got you a slice of pizza." I was surprised since we had eaten lunch just a few hours earlier. Well, I opened it and surprise! The green Shuffle! He also got me a set of headphones too since we've heard so many bad things about the iPod earbuds. I'm so happy...I can't wait to start downloading music!!
Friday, March 30, 2007
I'll be back tomorrow. I have some pics just for Faythe!
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Off to bed for me! (sorry, nothing interesting to say)
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Friday, March 23, 2007
Exhibit number 1: A hole in the building with plastic over it to protect the building from that water falling from the sky.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Tonight we started up the latest James Bond movie again when we heard a couple of loud banging sounds. Apollo jumped up, opened the door and looked out to see what the noise could be, telling me twice to stay inside. So I did the only thing a dutiful woman should do. I grabbed my camera and ran outside!
Some of our neighbors saw a car slowly drive away without their headlights on after hitting a car but we arrived too late to see them. Fortunately, a different neighbor looking out his window saw some of the activity and got a partial plate number.
While investigating the damage to one of the cars in the alley, Mac came out of out of his apartment, yelling that his bathtub was messed up! OK, well he didn't use these words but you get the idea. Tiles were literally knocked off the wall and lay on the floor and in the tub.
He was parked straight in the parking space before the driver hit the right side of the car, pushing it to one side.
After some fist shaking and obsessing over the pattern with Faythe, we decided cables should not be mixed up with stockinette. After all, cables pull in the fabric and make it tighter while stockinette is loose. And it doesn't help when said stockinette is filled with intarsia! Now the cat faces are bunching up and it looks awful! At first I thought it was because the stranding was too tight. While I'm sure it still may be a bit of a problem, when I lay the panel down flat the stockinette area gets all frumpy and bunched up due to extra fabric it's created. ARRRRGH!!
I'm just about done with the back panel but have stopped. The panel sits on the little table next to the couch where I can bitterly look at it every day. I've even started to feel deep-seated resentment. Maybe even some hostility towards Knitpicks Shine, while I'm at it. No real reason.
[photos to be posted here later] ****
Anyway, I've decided to give up on it. I don't think there's anything I can do to make it better. Plus, I'm not taking any anti-depressants and that just may be necessary should I choose to continue.
Meanwhile, now I'm not knitting anything. I truly believe that silly cable pattern has caused some sort of temporary damage. I have no desire to knit. I mean, yes, I want to knit. But nothing appeals to me. I have looked through all my books and blogs and yet, nothing.
I...I don't even want to buy yarn.
****Just as I was about to take a picture, we heard the crash which I posted about above. Hence, something better to take pictures of.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
As you can see, they were so excited about the road trip that they wanted to sit front and center. No longer were they back seat drivers. Instead, they kept yelling out "Swing left, swing right" in an attempt to get me drive around other cars.
We finally made it to the park and The Balls were VERY interested in the fowl in the pond. We paid for some duck food, threw it down on the ground and watched the ducks and geeze flock to us. Unfortunately, as soon as The Balls made an appearance, feathers and poo went flying. Nobody wanted to hang out with The Balls. They leaned up against the post and swore.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Friday, March 16, 2007
Last night I got home after dark to discover Big Mac, Apollo, Tee and Rob (from the infamous WWE in the ghetto event) having a party in our parking lot. Since it's birthday month here at the gayto (where the gay hood meets the ghetto) so the guys do a lot of drinking outside with Tee's trunk open and music blaring. Gin and juice, plastic cups, pork rinds and Tabasco sauce were available in large quantities. It was disgusting.There was no escaping them as each of them sauntered up to me in creepy old man fashion and danced little jigs. One of them even danced around me in small circles, something like a Mexican Hat dance. They each demanded my attention and hugs. *shiver* (and yes, I'll be getting back to The Balls in a second here)
All women walking by were subjected to staring and mumbling. One poor old lady, who apparently knew them, overheard a not so quiet comment "She's got bow legs" and turned around to look at them. The comment was made as if it was a good thing. *sigh* I don't want to know, really.
Anyway (I get distracted easily), since I wasn't able to go inside yet due to all the dancing and Tee who wanted to tell me all his woes, I opened the back door of my car to get my jacket and lo...there were The Balls! Still seat belted!!
I had forgotten Apollo belted them in days ago so they would arrive safely to work. Then I realized, they've been strapped into the back seat all this time! At work! At the store! I wonder if people saw them. Anyway, The Balls will be joining the guys for their next gayto birthday soiree. (The idea of the guys using the word soiree is hysterical)
They're still in the car now. I'm sure they're sweating a lot. I may have to sanitize the car seat later.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
The first thing she asks me is if I got her email yet. It seems she sent me an email at 2:11AM! When I got to work, I checked my email and first she tells me that she has just finished cutting the dogs fur and, "He is not a pretty sight." Poor thing! He's an old man and gets grouchy if the cat walks by him anytime after 7PM, which is his designated bed time. Can you imagine the horror he had to endure while Mom cut his fur all night long?
Next, she informs me that she's going to be doing some lobbying at the state capital, Salem. I, for one, think Mom would be a great lobbyist! I have no idea what she's lobbying for or against but Mom has the skill of nagging down to a T. And we all know that nagging yields a certain power.
Seen here with Liz and Mickey, Disneyland has an auto-switch off policy regarding nagging.For example, one time when Aimee and I were around 8 and 9, we were driving by my Uncle Scott's apartment when she saw the door was open. So she did a U turn and went back to see what's up (I guess she knew he was gone). She ended up following two guys out of the apartment, down the stairs and into the parking lot with one hand on her hip, the other one with a finger wagging in the air. And her mouth? WAH WAH WAH WAH WAH WAH
The thieves did their best to leave the apartment with my Uncle's personal items in their arms as quickly as possible. One of them finally turned around and looked at Mom and pointed a rifle at her. Without skipping a beat, she said "What, are you going to shoot me? My two daughters are in the car right there and are watching every move you make. Do you want to leave them motherless??" *sigh* I mean, MOM, they could have left us motherless! Or even worse, shot us all!!
Long story short, they left, she called the police and all ended well. At least I think I did. Well, we didn't get shot so that's good enough for me.
The only times nagging didn't worked out for Mom is when Aimee was supposed to clean her room. For some reason, Aimee passed out on the bed or floor whenever she was supposed to clean her room. Amazingly, some of my stuff would end up on her side of the room whenever that happened. WEIRD! No amount of nagging kept Aimee from losing consciousness or keeping her room clean. To this day she claims she's allergic to cleaning (this includes doing dishes, it makes her legs itch).
Anyway, I think Mom's finally found her niche. She's found something that will make good use of at least one of her finely honed evil powers!
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
The problem is I've been taught you shouldn't throw things away - that's wasteful! Plus, if you do throw it away, that's when you're going to need it. So through all the years of my life, I've saved things, squirreling them away until I can't even find them when I do need them.
This week, I looked around my depressing bedroom and decided it was time to get rid of some stuff. I've been going through clothes, books, etc. and throwing them out. My old Mac? Out! Printer, an extra monitor, some sheets that have lost their elasticity, out! Even some yarn!! It feels weird throwing away perfectly good stuff, but it's also relieving.
After I finish, I'm going to talk to the landlord about getting new carpet. And then I'm getting a new bed! And maybe even a bed frame! I feel so grown up. :)
Meanwhile, it feels good to get rid of all this extra, unnecessary crap. Yay!
Friday, March 09, 2007
Do not treat me like I know nothing about yarn. If I ask for sport weight yarn, do not show me dk or worsted weight yarn and try to pass it off for sport weight.
If I ask for wool, do not show me cotton, alpaca or *shudder* acrylic blends and tell me they knit up similarly.
Yarn store employee, do not ask me if I know what gauge is. I asked for sport weight. I think I know what gauge is. Oh, and when I say yes, do not then explain to me how the yarn you're holding knits 6 stitches per inch and tell me exactly what that means.
Please do not assume I'm knitting a scarf. There's nothing wrong with scarves if that's what pleases you, but I think it's safe to say if I'm buying 6 balls of an alpaca blend and some size 3 needles, I am not knitting a scarf. (By the way, don't you remember me from Christmas when I almost bought out your Mega Boots yarn? For socks??)
Do not look at me blankly when I tell you I am using an Elizabeth Zimmermann pattern. This is particularly embarassing for you, since you're standing in front of several Elizabeth Zimmermann books. And you sell them.
Do you treat me this way just because I look young? If so, are you under the impression young people cannot knit more than rectangular garter stitch? If so, you are wrong. DEAD WRONG.
Yarn store shopper
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
For example, a good story might be ....(struggling to think up good story)....oh yes, about Aimee's deaf cat Rthr. (Aim had a knack for odd names.) Rthr was a pretty cool cat. Aimee and Mom discovered him one day in an alley. Shortly after his discovery, a fire alarm went off directly above Aimee's head. Aimee jumped and covered her ears but Rthr didn't move. In fact, he kept on purring.
He was a medium sized lanky cat, white, blue eyed and had half a kinked up broken tail. I used to pretend his tail was one of those wind up things you see on the front of antique cars. Winding him up with a "wow wow wow" sound always made Aimee upset so I did it as much as possible.
If he thought he was abandoned in the house, Rthr would scream these awful howls and we'd have to flail our appendages wildly until he saw us or bang our feet on the floor until he felt the vibration. The first time he screamed we thought he was hurt but no, he was just alone in the kitchen.
Rthr had a good life on the ranch. A life filled with happily sitting on the road while being honked at by log trucks, catching hummingbirds in the horse trough near the honeysuckle bushes and laying in the green grass in the warm summer sun. Yep, it was a good life for Rthr, a loving, good natured, cooler than cool cat. Thankfully, we never knew what happened to him. He just disappeared one day.
A bad story would be about the time that Grandpa decided he wanted to shoot one of the bears eating blackberries in our backyard (it was a big back yard, we lived in the mountains). While preparing, he told a bunch of old-timey bear stories and got himself all wound up. I say old-timey because we have no way of telling if they were true and besides, his nickname is Banjo. 'Nuff said. As he told his stories, his eyes got bigger and bigger by the minute. It was hard to not get sucked into his tractor beam eyes which bulged out in a cartoonish manner.
Anyway, Aimee and I went out to put away the goats (Brandy, Mo and Rambo) and pet calf (Dolly) when we heard a gun shot. Long story short, Grandpa went outside early (hello, the grandchildren were out attending to the goats!) and shot at what he thought was a bear. How he mistook a red and white calf for a bear, I do not know. He didn't kill her or anything though. Just put a bullet through that fatty area near her wind pipe and set up an infection.
I don't really remember what all happened after that. I put up a big wall around that memory, it still makes me sad. Let's just say it ended a couple weeks later with us receiving a load of packaged meat with the words "Not to be consumed by the penicillin sensitive" stamped on them from the meat packaging plant. Aimee and I used Sharpe's to draw fun little pictures of cow faces with eye-lashes on the white freezer paper along with "Dolly's burger" or "Dolly's back strap" before throwing the packages into our huge deep freezer. Yes, we ate her. We were poor.
Life doesn't care about your feelings, what's fair or what makes you uncomfortable. If you can't poke fun at it and laugh, you'll just end up bitter and depressed. At least, that's what I learned.