Is this a knitting blog?

Okay, despite the fact that I don’t really think I’ve been knitting much, I have been making progress. I think it really is because knitting is pretty much my natural state of being. I don’t say that to be dramatic (Because I would never do that!) but simply as a fact. When I knit, am an pretty much a calm, contended person (mostly). When I’m not knitting, I can be. It’s like a light switch, I flip on that professional switch and am fine. But, that switch often gets un-flipped by some unsuspecting person who doesn’t know I am about thirty seconds away from maiming them to a point where they need to eat their pizza after it’s been through a blender. I use knitting sort of like a buffer to temper the more unpleasant parts of my personality. (This may be why I’m unemployed.)

Anyway, I’m starting to think about knitting. Nothing I’m knitting, but I really want to knit something new. Everything around here feels so . . . done. Only, NONE OF IT IS ACTUALLY DONE!!! This poses a problem that I am working on solving. The two favorite solutions are to either knit, or move to Belize and get a job with the DEA and bust crack lords. I don’t think that last one would work, but it would be wonderful book material. I couldn’t blog about it though . . . .

I actually do have several posts worth of stuff to share. I’ll dole it out to you all in parcels. (This really is just to prevent me sitting behind my desk, going “What the fuck am I going to write about?”)


I look fat.

I look fat.

As always, ignore the angry look on my face. Ignore the dominatrix angle I’m standing at and ignore the mess in the background. (I believe that people who chose to do things like knit sweaters and dance around in their underwear instead of cleaning to be very deep people, at leas this is what I’m telling myself.)Oh, and this also has benefit of showing you my $20,000 T-shirt. (When I first got it I kept calling it my “free” shirt, then I realized that I am paying for it somewhere along the line. Maybe that vague “fees” category. Also, that “free” New York Times in the Student Center? “Fees”.) Anyway that very unflattering pic is of what I have so far of my Epaulet Sweater. I really like it, even though it is a bore to knit. The shoulders hang very well, even more so when you have a sleeve attached to it. This sweater doesn’t see a lot of action, really only when I’m at knitting and maybe at the coffeehouse. But I still managed to finish up a sleeve. The sleeve is very much a bloused sleeve, which I’m not really fond of, but it will be nice as sort of a fall coat. I see it being pretty warm with a dark blue shawl/scarf. I plan to put a dark blue I-cord edging on it, with either sneaky button holes or those really pronounced ones that I can’t remember the name of. They are kind of like a loop. I’m sure you know what I mean. ~Thoughts and Comments Section~

  •  It really irritates me when a Kindle book is cheaper than a Nook book, not that I would buy either one really. If I buy a book, I want a book.
  • I might bake a cake today. It’s been a while since I’ve done any baking, and I won’t heat myself out of house and home because somebody turned on the AC Wednesday knit while I was at knitting and unable to defend my post by the thermostat.
  • I discovered the best blog today. (You may not like it as much as I do) . (I tried to do that neat link thing that other people do all the time on their blogs, but I couldn’t figure it out.) It’s essentially about this man who knits teddy bears for a living. You read that right. A grown man who pays the bills by knitting teddy bears. Is that not the most awesome thing ever! I find it very sexy, just saying. I love it!!!

Random Wednesday

Well, I can’t really think of a comprehensive way to babble about everything on my mind, so you get random blogging. (Lucky you)

1. I am writing this in my underwear. You read that right. I went running this afternoon, came home, took a shower, and now am sitting here in my underwear writing this.

2.On Monday we at the bookshop (I say we, though I had nothing to do with the following) changed the display. The old one was books that were made into movies, the new one is travel (and not the greatest they’ve ever done either, not that I would ever have an opinion on such). My point, and I do have one, is that the old display had a bunch of movie posters in them. Small reproductions, but still pretty cool. I found them in the recycling. They are now sitting about an arms length from me. underneath a pile of notebooks and paper. (One could make the argument that my whole desk is a jumble of paper, but I swear that there is a method. Like that’s the college pile, that’s the closet pile, that’s the “professional” writing pile, that’s the personal writing pile. See, not that crazy) I really like them and they remind me in some eerie way of Dawson’s room on the creek.

3. I am almost done with my re-reading of The Object of My Affection. Still get teary eyed thinking about it.

4. Speaking of tears, I have been an emotional basket case here recently. I alternate between sobbing my eyes out, and being my usual sarcastic raging bitch. There is no middle ground. I don’t really care. It’s entertaining at least. (And around here, you have to make your own entertainment.)

5.I’ve started the second half of Sadie’s sweater, but haven’t made a lot of progress on it, namely because I’ve had more important things on my mind. I’ve knit about five or six ridges on it, which, when a row is greater than 200 stitches, that means something. I’ve almost finished with the TSLS edging, at least for that one more side, which means I only have to knit, I don’t know, about 20,000 more stitches till it’s done. (I’m not really exaggerating either. That really is an educated guess about how many are left. )

6. I can’t really think of what else to say, at least things that are not bordering on the expressly personal, so I guess I’ll go for now.

“I don’t want him to end up with that pregnant Bitch!”

I hate the thought of saying this on a knitting blog, but I really haven’t been knitting much. I’ve been knitting some, but nowhere near the usual amounts of yarn I move through OCD style. The urge to make things comes and goes with me, and while I still love knitting in theory, I’m not really loving it in actuality. I’ve been doing a little bit in the mornings, but nothing major, and really, I haven’t made any progress to speak of in the past few days.

However, it appears that even I knit to much for my own good. What you have here is a completed half of Sadie’s sweater. Well, not really a completed half, mostly a completed half. I got lazy while knitting the sleeve and sort of said. “Ah, it’ll grow while blocking.” Yeah, but not about six inches worth. I should have found some thinner yarn to use. I still need to add about two inches to the sleeve.

I still haven’t cast on the other half. When you’re really not in the mood for knitting, you really are not in the mood to cast on 200+ stitches in a slubby yarn.  You know? I keep asking myself, What was I thinking? But really, Past Garret has caused a lot of the problems in my life. I swear I would kill him, but I can’t, at least till I get that time machine.

What else have I been up to you ask. Well, I read a few books this week. This really is worth mentioning because I’ve been wading through Middlemarch and David Copperfield for months. The first one was called, Jack Holmes and His Friend, by Edmund White. It’s the story of a gay man who falls in love with a straight man, and therefore has to endure, essentially, the way that his unrequited love fucks up the rest of his life. This books spans the two’s relationship over decades, and while it doesn’t have the ending I want it to have — which we all know can’t happen, it does have a more or less happy ending.

Then, after devouring that one, I went up to my books shelves to pick out another one. I just couldn’t find it in me to pick up Middlemarch again. You know it’s a long book when it takes you about five minutes to finish a sentence. I looked at my sheleves, saw what looked the most appetizing, and then promptly chose this next book simply because it was on the top. The Object of my Affection, by Stephen McCauley. Oh, how I loved this book. I read it in less than two days and I didn’t even once look and see how many pages were left before I finished it. I don’t even know how many pages of it there are. I really don’t care. Each and every one of those pages was worth the time it took me to read them –simply because of the way that they made me fee. (374, I looked it up.)

The book is essentially the story of a gay man, named George (which, a book in which a gay man was the central character and the narriator was kind of un-heard of when this book was written in 1987) who moves in with his friend Nina in the wake of the end of his relationship with this horrible professor who was one of those OCD types. (Seriously, this dude is a total tool. He gave Nina Georges name and number without telling George. Without even discussing it! And then cheated on him. If I were George that man would have had to have his morning coffee through an IV.) Anyway, Nina then gets pregnant by this overbearing guy that she doesn’t really like that much. (Maybe she liked him more than I did.) And she certainly doesn’t want to get married, and wants to raise the baby with George. George doesn’t know what he wants to do, and ends up going away for the weekend to Vermont with the ex-boyfriend and meets this awesome guy named Paul — who also wants a part of George, a part that he really can’t share with Nina. It is a lovely, charming, and funny novel about the many ways to make a family.

Oh, but I loved George. I loved George. I want to hold George and tell him that everything is going to be okay. This was such a tearful book for me. I think I burst into tears at least once a chapter. (I love it when a book touches such emotional chords with me that it reduces me to tears.) I loved George, and several times I found myself sobbing and moaning “I don’t want him to end up with that pregnant bitch!” George is so sensitive and sweet and is so damaged and often vulnerable. I loved George.

Oddly enough, this book which I loved so much that I am immediately re-reading it, was one I just picked up at the bookshop on a whim — and because it was $1.25. I brought it home and put it on the bookshelf, and let it gather dust. I brought it home and was looking at it, and reading the plot, and it said on the cover about it being made into a movie with Jennifer Aniston and Paul Rudd, and I thought for a minute and read that plot again. Holy Shit. I ‘ve seen this movie. From what I can remember, they were very different, but with the same basic story. I don’t remember how the movie ends though. I don’t think I liked it, but that was a little while ago. I remember I watched it on a Sunday though! Doesn’t that account for something?

Anyway, have a good rest of the weekend.

The men are all wearing panty-hose*

Is there anything better than good news in the mail? I think not. I just got a letter from Kohls Cares, which is essentially a scholarship program, telling me that I’m moving on to what they term as “regionals”. That means I’m a lot closer to, you know, winning. I was so thrilled because of this, as you can well imagine. It’s for exemplary service in a volunteer position, which people, if I haven’t been exemplary, I don’t know what is.

Not only is this for 1,000 dollars, but I also can extract another 1,000 from KSU due to their matching program. Awesome right? Well, we can see if I win.

But I will win, because I well, have got more volunteer hours in one year, than most people do in their life. I had over 250 last year at one place, and over 100 at the other. The year prior I was over 50 at the one place, and probably close to 50 at the other. This year, I’ve gotten over 150, so people, I do a lot. So, I’m pretty optimistic. Granted, I was raised Methodist, so that may be related. Anyway, I still think I’ve got a good chance.

And, even if I don’t win, they still sent me a $50 dollar gift card. I’ll take what I can get. (I do need new underwear . . . ) And it is an honor. (He says in British accent, while making sweeping gesture.)

So, the knitting. Sigh, that’s really all that I can say on the subject. Sigh. I’ve been knitting some, but not really anything amounting to anything. I’m at that phase of my knitting where I’m knee-deep in a lot of stuff, and that means that it will be a while before I finish anything. The TSLS — that’ll be several more weeks, at the rate that I’m going. The top-down epaulet sweater — still on the first sleeve, no body. The socks, if I would ever work on them, could be done in a few days, they only need half a foot and a small toe. Sadie’s sweater is about half done, but I’m not working on it till I see her next and make sure that this half fits. So, that’s where I am, Project summary in less than 100 words.

Now, off to go online shopping. I would go to a store, but I really, really love packages. (Like enough to pay for shipping.)

*I couldn’t think of anything else for a title.



I’m starting to feel a little bit better, but that may very well just be the Advil talking. I took three yesterday, and felt pretty good till the evening, so today, I’m talking two, and we are just going to see how well this goes. The fact that it is slowly starting to feel a little bit better, leads me to think that it is indeed just a virus, that a doctor is unnecessary and a waste of money, and I’ll do just fine on my own. Granted, this is just my feeble attempt to avoid having them shove a tongue depressor down my throat. I hate that. I loathe that. There has got to be an easier way. Can’t they just look and see? It seems like an awful lot of fuss. “Yes, I can see the back of your throat. Now I need to feel it.”

My father is working second shift this week, which means I’ve got him underfoot all week till two o’clock. He is pretty easy to work around, not like my mother who doesn’t know the meaning of “Why are you breathing like that?” (It really means “If I don’t get two seconds away from you in the next two seconds, than I shall start to internally combust and light the house on fire.”) Granted, this morning, I’m sitting at my desk doing something, he comes out of his room, and without so much as a “good morning,” he asks me, “Could you make up some coffee?”

My inner bitch wanted to retaliate with “Make your own coffee,” but I have learned that people do not often take kindly to the IB. She is crude, loud, she smokes in inappropriate places, swears about every third word, and just generally acts in a way that most people I know would not let me get away with. And had I not made coffee that morning, that’s probably what I would have said. Also, I couldn’t say that, namely because I, well, I had coffee made. Anyway, all this is merely a round about way of saying I’ll be a little frazzled this week.
(Also, spending the evenings with just my mother and the baby will probably drive me into becoming some raging psychopath that doctor Freud would have a field day with.)

I’m almost finished with the first half of the body on Sadie’s Sweater. I’m going to do a little I-cord around the cuff of the sleeve, sew the sleeve seem, graft the body together, and wet block it to get a full view of what it would look like. Then I plan to try it on her, to see how it fits. Hopefully all will go well.

I probably won’t see her till Thursday at the earliest, so I’ve got a week free, essentially, from working on her sweater. (Which is fun to knit, sure, but it’s not for me, so I really can only devote a certain amount of interest to it.) I’ll probably use this as a chance to return to my Epaulet sweater, because a week of 80+ temps really makes me see the sense of knitting a thick wool sweater. (I keep telling myself that Kent is closer to the snow belt than Wadsworth, but not by that much.)

That will do for today.


Death on a Biscuit

While I am not 100% sure that I’ll have the mental strength to make it through 4+ years of college, I really am beginning to doubt that I’ll be able to get through it physically.

All of that is a complicated way of saying that I’m sick, again. Yes again, at least this time it’s a different part of me that I want to cut out and sacrifice to the god Apollo, god of healing and medicine. (Only I don’t really think I could live without it.)

Let’s just have a little review of the illnesses I’ve had over the past six months.

December — Which shall forever be known as the time when I really honestly thought that I was going to die and I was perfectly fine with that. The weekend that I couldn’t stand. That night at work when I nearly gave into my natural urge to tell Carolyn to f*ck off. The night when I remember listening to A Prairie Home Companion, but I really cannot remember for the life of me what and who were on the show that night, and I really wanted to do was sleep. That night when I went into the kitchen at four in the morning for a bowl of soup and my sister was still up and trying to make conversation with a sick, tired, and hungry person. (I have to keep reminding myself that it’s not because of that night that I don’t want anything to do with her.) The day when I’d sit in bed and read for ten minutes and that would exhaust me so much that I would have to sleep for the next half hour. And than on Sunday night I got up, got a shower, and headed to tax class, felt just fine. Sometimes it’s feeling like a human again.

And then when I had the flu again in February. I lost all of Friday then, but was pretty much better by Sunday. The worst part was that I had to watch Oliver for about three hours that morning. He was a lot lighter then though.

Then you have the thousands of little colds and coughs that I’ve had on and off this spring. Nothing to really take me out of commission, but enough to just make every moment a lot harder.

And now I’ve got some really dehablitating sore throat. Oh, this is terrible. Swallowing fills me with an unholy sense of dread. Breathing makes me wonder why that really is necessary? I mean, they can come up with fat free cake, but yet they can’t figure out how to keep a human being alive without oxygen. I don’t think they’re trying enough. It may be strep throat, but I don’t know, and I really, really hope not, simply because that would require me to go to a doctor and get an antibiotic. (I think. I had that once when I was like 11, and all I remember is that I was miserable, and that my mother wouldn’t leave me alone.)

So I’m pretty much lazing about the house these days, occasionally drinking some tea and reading a book, thinking fondly about the days when I was able to do things like write books and knit sweaters. Those were good days. And do you remember when I was able to exercise? Oh, I was so thin. I miss being thin. (I’m still pretty thin . . .  as long as I’m standing up.)

Anyway, back before I contracted the plague. (Which I think was, maybe Tuesday?) I became a minister. Yep, you read that right. The Universal Church of Life (as opposed to the Universal Church of Death, which I think I’m closer to today) recognizes me as a minister. Granted, The Universal Church of Life makes Unitarians look conservative, and Lutherans look downright fundamentalist. Seriously, these people’s slogan is “Promoting the Freedom of Religion.” Anyway, I can now preside at marriages, baptisms and funerals. Actually, I have to order a certificate if I want to preform marriages in the state of Ohio. But I can marry residents of Washington State if I want to.

And last night was the last episode of The Office. Let me tell you, that having worked for a crazy person in an office setting, that show couldn’t be more true. I cried and cried though, I just couldn’t help myself. I still can’t really believe that it’s over. I feel like I know the people on it, doesn’t that sound silly? I’m sure it does.

I’ve knit a few rows on Sadie’s sweater. Not much to really speak of, but I did make it to the sleeve. I can’t wait to finish this one off, and move back to the knitting for my favorite person to knit for . . . ME. (Or, when I’m in a certain mood, my mother. She’s just so little, I can’t get over the difference between a 40 inch sweater and a 34 inch one. It’s amazing.

Sharing Gonorrhea

Really like this sweater.

Okay, I have this friend, we’ll call her Sadie, mostly because that’s her name. She’s blond, with a pointy nose and an hourglass figure.  She’s  a sweet girl, and the kind that I would usually force teach to knit. She gave me the old “I’d love to but I don’t have time.” That usually pisses me off, but considering that she’s a single mother with two jobs, I was willing to accept that she probably doesn’t have time. Anyway, about two weeks ago, I went down to the coffeehouse and I was wearing my Gonorrhea sweater ( or Rorschach sweater), and when she saw me wearing a sweater that I had made, she flipped out.

Now, the phrase “flipped out” can mean many things, and really it leaves the reader with more questions than answers. Let me just say that she really liked this sweater. She loved my Gonorrhea (you knew that was coming), what can I say? Like, made me take it off so she could try it on, and then walked around the store wearing it for a about a half hour. There was a brief period where I seriously thought that I wasn’t going to get it back. Anyway she pressured and cajoled and bribed me into knitting her one. I am not thrilled about this, but she is a friend, and, it being at 4 to the inch, is relatively quick knitting.

And she is paying me, and I say, that because it was money earned by knitting, I therefore should be able to spend it on knitting. It only makes sense. I told her that I would do it for $50, really just to cover the cost of my yarn, so I wouldn’t be losing money on it. I got home and looked at my stash and saw that the only yarns I had that would fit the bill (she said she wanted Reggae colors so she could smoke pot in it.) (I swear I just meet these people.) were from an unraveled sweater (Wouldn’t be enough for a sweater for me, but would be for her), a gift from Cindy, and some leftovers (it’s kind of stripy.) So, I actually will be making money. Cool!

Anyway, I am flying with this one. Namely because I have pretty much dedicated about 90% of my knitting time to it. I’m about ready to finish the left body, and start the left sleeve. The sweater starts in the center of it, and each half is worked outwards from there. It’s an unusual way of making a sweater, but a nice change from the standard bottom up, with all the percentages and grafting. I’m not adding that little strip at the bottom, which is cute but kind of pointless if you don’t decrease at “A” and “F”. If you’ve ever made it, that will make sense, if not, don’t worry about it.

The blurry photo means it looks like a pot-smoking sweater to me. I actually am enjoying the knitting of this one, but still, I can’t wait for it to be done.