Friday, October 28, 2005

shaft, by way of chaucer

enjoy, kiddies:

Wha be tha blake prevy lawe
That bene wantoun too alle tha feres?
SHAFT!
Ya damne righte!

Wha be tha carl tha riske is hals wolt
Fro is allye leve?
SHAFT!
Konne ye?

Wha be tha carl wha ne wolden flee
Whan peril bene all aboughte?
SHAFT!
Verray!

Alle clepe tha carl ane badde mooder-
SOFTE!
Speken of Shaft bene I.
THAN KONNE ALLES WE!

He be a man konne unnethes
Namo save is mayde konnes im.
JOHN SHAFT!

Friday, October 21, 2005

i am that weird girl at work

It's official: I am the workplace loon.

I'm broke (as usual) and in desperate need of a haircut. I also loathe split ends. So, for fun, I grab small chunks of hair, peer intently at the ends, and snip the split ends. I do this with the door wide open, people. People walk past my office all day long, and I have zero doubt they all note the crazy girl staring at her hair with huge office scissors in her hand.

I realize that because I'm fairly quiet and work with a limited group of people here at The Law Firm, LLC, my reputation is entirely based on my quirks. From cutting my split ends to laughing for an inappropriate amount of time at an inappropriate level at emails my (wholly inappropriate) friends send me. Think about that - I'm quiet walking around, but they all hear me laughing maniacally behind the closed door. And I'm always printing/photocopying knitting patterns. Actually, I'm also "The Knitting Girl."

Ah, the sad thing is that I really can't help it. It's so soothing to divorce myself from my split ends. Knitting keeps me sane. And as for the laughing, I just have funny friends. What's a girl to do?

Monday, October 10, 2005

vive shame

So I met Mr. Fabulous' parents this weekend. It went wonderfully - we picked apples at the apple orchard, got lost in the corn maze, ohh'ed over pumpkins in the pumpkin patch. Mr. Fabulous' dad loved me. I got a little q-t with his mom, and that went great, too. She bought me pumpkin butter. Seriously the best meeting-the-parents trip ever.

And then I puked. All over.

I had been feeling a tad iffy all day long. I hadn't eaten very much and taken some medicine that morning. When I thought I was about to pass out, my dear Mr. Fabulous bought me a brat. I had some crackers. I thought, okay, this will settle my stomach. I'm just starving from all the walking + no food. Okay, I'm good, I thought. I WILL be good.

Then we got into the car to go home. Mr. Fabulous was listing off the various places we could go to dinner ("Chinese, Italian, Indian, Mexican, Thai...") I looked over at him as he was talking and said, "I am very carsick."

He took one look at me and yanked the wheel over to the side of the road and I opened my door and retched into the grass. Retched! In front of his parents! While sitting in the front seat of their car!!! Thank god I didn't do it IN their car - they were driving from Minneapolis to Sioux Falls back home to their wee South Dakota town. If Mr. Fabulous hadn't pulled over, they would have driven in a Puke Car. And we all know that the puke smell never, ever comes out of cars. Ever. It's like cat pee - although I think I could argue puke is much more disgusting.

Thankfully, his mom is a nurse and his dad is a farmer, so they're pretty down with the throw up. They were totally nonplussed, which I appreciated more than I can say. Unfortunately, we went for seafood for dinner immediately afterwards. I'm sure I was more than a little green all night, but after some ghetto (but good) fish and fries, we went back to Mr. Fabulous' for some cards. It ended well, but I have zero doubt I'll forever be That Girlfriend Who Puked.

Sigh.

I suppose it could have been worse, right?

Yeah, I think not, too.

Friday, October 07, 2005

Ugh.


It seems grossly unjust to not have an unlimited amount of PTO time from work to knit at will. I realize that statement is both whiny and annoying, but a girl can (indignantly) dream, right?

In other minor (and whiny) news, boys are hard. Not a new sentiment, but it always manages to catch me off-guard.

Today's happy picture - a baby alpaca.

Thursday, October 06, 2005

no.



Is it weird that Lion Brand patterns make me angry? Why do they insist on amazingly, shockingly ugly patterns?

I think Lion Brand secretly hates knitters. Sure, we're the hand that feeds them, but you know they just want to bite. Hence, their shitastic patterns.

you know what i like? cheese.

Well, besides cheese, I also like being in mad crazy love, and knitting until my hands numb. Mr. Fabulous, my plucked-from-the-depths-of-perfection genderqueer honey has been occupying my brain and my time, hence, blogging has sadly fallen greatly behind. I've been a knitting fiend, though, and although my fabbo new cell phone takes pictures, I have no clue how to upload them.

For those like me with overactive imaginations, here are some descriptions:

1. Waterfalls scarf
Knit length-wise in light blue new wool thick-and-thin yarn, I put in some shots of a darker blue randomly. The fringe at the edges have both colors equally. The overall effect is water running around my neck and down my back. I get a lot of compliments on this baby, and threats of thievery from my sister. I like that.

2. Rainbow/Kind of Gay-Pride-y Hat
Black 2x2 ribbing shifts into a variegated rainbow thick-and-thin yarn (yeah, I'm on a kick). The rainbow is a little darker, so it's more subtle gay pride, rather that I'm Gay! Yay! kind of hat. Not that I'm Gay! Yay! is a bad hat to have, but you know what I'm saying.

3. Baby Sweater
Dark green mercerized cotton with some sort of crazy cool border/bottom. It's a top-down raglan, but I haven't decided what to do with the bottom yet. Nicky Epstein's Knitting Over the Edge has some cool ideas, but I haven't committed to any yet. We'll see, we'll see.

4. Washcloth Bonanza
My sweetie was all jealous of my friend Liz's knitting for her gf Kim. I asked him, "Well, what do you want?" He paused, looked seriously, and shyly said, "I really want washcloths." What a weird, practical bunny. So I'm currently in washcloth no. 2. He's getting some dishtowels and possibly a double-knit hot pad too, because I don't just do washcloths. He doesn't know what he's unleashed. Bonanza indeed.

Of course, my self-designed sweater (that looks eerily like the sweater I bought in Eddie Bauer three years ago) is moving slooowly along. I'd like to front and be all, "that baby'll be finished before Christmas!" but I know it won't. The Christmas knitting is already a tad overwhelming. Hence, I've found great amounts of solace in this: 1-877-767-5648 (toll-free in US and Canada). I love the Yarn Harlot. I really do.

More on Mr. Fabulous: sexy, normal (NORMAL!), funny, and super, super hot. Did I mention normal? And hot? I'm deeply excited about being with someone who has friends and their own life and goals and I can bring into public without being ashamed. I'm super proud to be dating him. He's Mr. Fabulous! How could I not be happy? I'm going to start volunteering because I seriously feel like I need to pay back this karmic debt. It's a little scary to be so lucky.

AND two nights ago I taught him to knit. HE WANTS TO KNIT. Seriously, I think I just came a little bit typing that. He's really good and we're going a'shoppin' for circs and some worsted so he can do a ribbed hat. Yes, he's ready for that! Amazing, I know.