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      Category: I’m Crazy (Page 5 of 9)

      Splitting Your Fingerprint

      November 25, 2008 /

      You really don’t hear a lot of crazy news stories about knitting drama, or casualties. When I first moved to Kansas City, I was fascinated by a warring pair of ladies who own competing horse-drawn carriage businesses here on the Plaza (one put a hit out on the other!!!), but you really don’t read much about drive-bys because a certain knitter scooped up a bunch of Wollmeise, or that someone’s being held for ransom and the payment is in rare colorways from the Regia Color Nation series. (Seriously, though, my moral turpitude could be swayed if someone had Regia Canadian Color in the Alberta colorway. Everyone has their price.)

      But there are knitting-related injuries.  I was hell-bent on finishing James’ Koolhaas hat, and using rather sharp, small needles. Going quickly, along with twisted stitches, I found myself really jabbing my right index finger with the pointy needle, but didn’t think much of it. Until I realized that in two different places, I had essentially split the skin between the raised ridge areas on the surface of my finger! And while it’s a very small opening on my skin, it burns and registers every single thing that comes in contact with it that isn’t to its liking. So I did what any knitter might do, and just kept knitting. I did put liquid bandage on it, which burned for a good 60 seconds, but then at least provided a decent barrier that stayed on for most of the day. (Note to all who are intrigued by liquid bandage: this product works amazingly well. Fantastically, in fact. However, if I were 8 years old, and someone was putting this on my skinned knee? I would invoke a string of curse words that would make a grown sailor wince. It burns like an unholy spirit escaping the flames of hell. But!! Then it’s over, and it takes numerous hand washings to even affect it. So. Ye were warned, and the payoff is worth it.) (Another note on liquid bandage: the ad says it’s used by “bowlers, golfers, tennis players, fisherman, musicians, runners, hikers, and dancers” and I would like to officially suggest they include “Crafters” to their cross-section of users.)

      There are even sharper needles out there (Stilleto points from Signature, if only 1’s came in circulars!), and I’d love to try them but I fear I’d have bloody knitting to show for it.   However, there would be an upside to that – I would be able to destroy my fingerprints & get my hands on that Alberta yarn no matter what it took to get it…heh ….just kidding.

      Sorta.

      Evidence of the Crazy….

      November 17, 2008 /

      Because you needed more, right?

      I had Friday off, for a long-awaited spa day. I had originally scheduled my appointment for a month earlier, but the spa had a water main break in their building, and despite their best efforts, weren’t able to re-open in time for me to make my appointment. Boo! But, on the flip side, they gave me a 25% discount on all my services, so Yay! I had squirreled away a few SpaFinder certificates as well, so it was a fairly inexpensive day.

      But I’m never good with ‘just lying there’. I get antsy. I’m a multi-tasker, and I start to fidget. And my brain starts to wander and get a little nutso on me. I was having a hand & foot treatment, and part of the process is that they put a mask on your hands & feet, and then wrap them in plastic bags & tuck them under blankets and leave you that way for 10-15 minutes.

      Immediately, I start to think about how I now must resemble a corpse at a crime scene. Bagged and tagged, with evidence-preserving baggies on my hands and feet, except, of course, I’ve read and watched enough procedurals to know that it really should be brown paper bags for preserving evidence properly. Details, details. I start getting antsy and flail a bit with my plastic-covered extremities. Then, my brain thinks, “What if an armed gunman burst into the spa? Where would I hide?”

      Immediately, I think, at the end of the table, furthest point from the door. But crouched down, I’d feel vulnerable, not well-hidden.  I’m not sure if there’s an opening to go under the table, or if it’s closed off. There’s a closet over there, that would be good, but of course the table would be mussed up and it could be very apparent that someone was/is inside here. Well, I’d have to count on the element of surprise, because the last thing an armed gunman might expect is a pissed off, un-relaxed fat lady emerging from the closet like a wounded rhino, with plastic bags on her hands and feet, which actually would be handy for a suffocation. Self-defense, of course.

      Finally, the technician returned and I could stop my crime scene imaginations. And for the record, I was very relaxed after the day was done – I just don’t relax on command as well as I’d like.  And my mind sure does wander……

      It’s A Small World After All….

      November 1, 2008 /

      OK, I’m going to start by saying THANK GOD this is finally DST weekend. Because I got up at 7 am, to go to Liberty, to a craft show. Not your run-of-the-mill craft show, no, but a craft show with kick-ass good crafts. It was a lot of fun, and I did a good job of shopping, both for myself and for others. There were lots of unique finds, and we spent about an hour, toodling around the building, saying howdy to our buddy Ana, and making our purchases.

      After that, we made our way to the Old Mill Stitchery, which carries some nice yarns (lots of Berroco), and has some stitchery-type things, plus a HUGE room for wool rug making. I fell in love with a small rug, and then instantly fell out of love with it once I saw the price tag. ($700. It was drop-dead gorgeous, but certainly not going underfoot at that price!) I got a cute little kit with wooden bowls designed to use up your leftover sock yarns, and it was pretty inexpensive.

      Then it was time to find something to eat.  Beth wanted breakfast-y food (it was 10:30) and Laura & I really didn’t care, we just started eyeballing things as we were driving through the big shopping area up there. B saw a Steak & Shake, and since we knew they’d not only be open, but they’d serve just about anything, I turned right…. and moments before making that turn, saw “The Corner” in the opposite direction. So we did a U-turn, because lawd, if you haven’t ever been, they make cinnamon & sticky buns the size of your head. And all the food is good. Which is why there’s always a wait.

      The beautiful thing about knitting is that it gives you patience when you need it. We had our name on the list, estimated wait was half an hour, and we sat outside on a bench, all three of us with our knitting. Chatting back and forth, jumping each time the overhead PA system sprang to life, knitting the minutes until we were called. Suddenly, a man crossing the parking lot looks over at us, and starts waving and shouting “HEY THERE!” We are all instantly confused, thinking surely he must mean someone else. Within thirty seconds, though, I realize, this is a former client of mine, and his name jumps into my head, and I find myself waving back saying, “Well, Hell! Hello there, Danny!” He comes over and shakes my hand and introduces himself (uh, I remember you, I said your name!) and we exchange pleasantries. He goes back to his wife, they head to their car, and we’re left chuckling about our confusion and the randomness of me running into someone in Liberty (which for those following from another location, this is a northern suburb, approximately 30 miles away from me, and not someplace I frequent.

      Then,  a guy walks buy, and I look at him, and say, out loud, “That’s Chip! Hi, Chip!” Because it is CHIP from Kansas City SWAT, and I’ve not only met him, I have his autographed picture. Beth starts laughing. Chip turns to look at me, and I realize I’ve done all this out loud. “Hi Chip! We met at Jimmy Johns a while back, how ya doin’.” He is kind enough to go along with this and even mentions the correct location, saying he remembers, and hi, how ya doing today, and are we waiting to be seated, or have we already eaten? Which would be rather funny, to have eaten and parked ourselves on a bench to haaaaang and knit, but ok, it’s not like my stream of consciousness is going to correct yours, Chip, you could crack my head open WITH YOUR MIND and a TEASPOON. He goes in to check on the wait, returns, gets his wife, and we all nod at each other again like we’re old pals. I’m hoping to be able to use my ever-growing connection to Chip, SWAT team leader, for more blog fodder down the road, I’m just putting that out there right now.

      We had a fantastic waiter (Charles) (he’s in charge) (I love him), great food, and an all-around successful, entertaining morning. I’m sleepy, so I should get a nap in before I head off to the festivities tonight – also up north, but more towards the west this time.

      I realized as I was typing that it’s November now, but October marked the ten-year anniversary of my move to Kansas City. I think I came here mid-month, for my job. And every year I’m here, the universe seems to get just a tiny bit smaller. But ever so much more colorful, and ever so entertaining. I love it!

      Happy Halloween!

      October 31, 2008 /

      We had our company party this afternoon, and I went as a Yip Yip from Sesame Street.  You can be the judge of how accurately it turned out….

      Me as a Yip Yip

      Big thanks to my husband for trouble-shooting, problem-solving & helping out in general. I didn’t win the big prize, alas, but I enjoyed the memories of doing the yip-yip patter with my dad when I was a kid. Not everyone knew who/what I was, either, but no matter. Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope…..

      The First Step Was Taken….

      October 3, 2008 /

      Tonight was the party night at the American Royal. We went to several tents – we always have a great time at the KCTV5/KSMO tent, and then, because we knew both an attender, and the cop working the “door”, we sorta crashed the Worth Harley-Davidson tent, which was pretty awesome. After a while, we went back to the KCTV5 tent, to make sure we thanked everyone & said our goodbyes, and on the way out, I saw my chance.

      There was a young police officer working security there, as well, nice nice guy, and was doing an inordinate amount of texting. It’s not really major case squad down there at the Royal, though I’m sure as the night goes on, the drunk & disorderly rises.  So I decide, now’s my chance. I started to tell him, then I stopped, imagining the worst, he told me to go ahead, just tell him, and I did it.

      “Has anyone ever told you they’re afraid they’re going to lose their minds, lose utter control, and try and take your gun away from you?”

      The answer? It’s a helluva lot more common than I ever imagined. (Yay! I am not alone in wanting to hurtle myself right into unmitigated stupidity!) And he continued to tell me just how aware he is, at all times, of where he is in proximity to other people, how he doesn’t want people behind him, and he’s always aware of where other people are in relationship to his weapon.  As sorely tempted as I was to fake an attempt, HA HA, wouldn’t that be hilarious, I wisely chose not to. And I walked away, shouting to my husband and mother-in-law that I’d made the first step in ridding myself of this phobia.

      Oddly enough, it didn’t even cross my mind when we met up with James’ former D.A.R.E. officer, someone I adored the minute I met her, and she gave us both hugs (talk about your perfect opportunity). She told me she’s got some great stories for me (I practically jumped with glee, except I was so tired by that point, I couldn’t have left the earth for a second). Can’t wait to plan that dinner, I love me some first-hand COPS. We then admired the drug-seizure vehicle her partner was driving – a souped-up Denali with spinner wheels and a DVD player system (in the front!), and then our jaws dropped when the trunk doors were opened. The entire cargo area was filled with the biggest speakers I have ever (EVER) seen in a car. I made a joke about how this kinda makes drug money look good, and she said she spins it the other way. I’m not sure exactly what that is, apart from the fact I think those speakers can actually sterilize you at 50 yards. Oh, well, yeah, JAIL. Duh.

      The evening was great fun, and the big event is tomorrow – I’ll take pictures, and give you a full report on the day of judging. I know by the time Sunday rolls around, I’m going to have sauce & smoke coming out of my pores. …

      Bodhisattva, Baby.

      September 16, 2008 /

      I’m not saying a whole lot about the years I spent listening to Steely Dan on a regular basis. Let’s just say, they were good times. I was in college. I didn’t really worry too much about my 40’s back in those days.

      And I know they were good, because I’ve had another really stressful day? And after rebooting my *(&^&%$%)__(^&^%%^$$ computer after it precariously froze in Excel once again (with a huge table of numbers teetering in the balance), I scrolled through my iTunes, looking for just the right music to play while I continued to fiddle and work with all this data. Then I found it. Ah. A Decade of Steely Dan.

      I just sailed through the rest of the calculations & am quite excited to start on the next phase. So relaxed.

      And kinda hungry. Good thing hubs is grilling chicken for chef salads tonight.

      Drug Cartels, Dragon Breath, it’s just another Monday….

      September 15, 2008 /

      It’s very, very disturbing to wake up and try to sort through the vestiges of your dreams, sorting out what is real from what your brain conjured up in the wee hours of the night.

      For instance, no, I am not on the run from a very evil drug cartel. Nor did I go scuba diving with my husband and mother-in-law to cleverly hide from the aforementioned drug cartel. A plan that was perfect until someone figured out we were in the water & started shooting at us. Fortunately, we were all quite good at the scuba diving (again, not so in the light of day), but I still woke up very shaky and confused. Might have been because it was a bit of a rough night – after all the overcast weather we’ve had, the moon finally surfaced and in it’s full splendor, illuminated our chunk of earth with an extremely blindingly bright light. I recall waking up thinking a spotlight was being shone on my face. Lots of confusion.

      Moving on with the day.  Pizza 51 makes some good food. Since we’d had homemade pizza the night before, I opted for breadsticks & a salad, and got the breadsticks with cheese & roasted garlic. Thinking they would probably take the approach to the garlic with a minimal hand. Whoa, Nelly, let me tell you what, I am now good for vampire season. (Full moon and all, I guess this is a good thing.) They liberally coat the bread with roasted garlic, and no amount of Trident Splash seems to be cutting the side effects.   Also, our waitress was royally torqued, possibly because the girl who took our orders was hard of hearing, and made some adjustments to all the things we bought, thus rendering us with blank stares when the waitperson announced what she was delivering. No black olives turned into “No broccoli”; “with cheese” became “without cheese”, and a couple of things had to return to the restaurant to get fixed. Our party was a big group, so I started cringing every time she approached our table, waiting for the moment when she absolutely lost her temper and threw the plate of food at us. It didn’t quite come to that, but boy howdy, next time, I’ll make sure my order was taken correctly.

      Despite some of the craziness that always seems to accompany a Monday, I have to say this week is already off to a better start when compared to last week. And since this week includes being chased by Pablo Escabar and Co, I think that’s saying quite a bit!

      I’ll see my knitty pals tonight at the Guild meeting, and then I’m headed home for the Weeds finale… I also started the Mystery Stole 4 over the weekend, and already love the color combo I chose for my yarn/beads. Knitting on zero Addis though, not my joy, but I am knitting both panels as I go, so when all the clues have been issued, I have matching, symmetrical pieces to graft & be done!

      Through the Years….

      September 6, 2008 /

      I have had entirely too much fun on YearbookYourself. People starting dropping these into their Facebook profile photos, and I didn’t take much notice until my friend Laura did hers, and I didn’t know who in the hell she was. So the other evening, I spent some time on the site, dropped my mug into all of the different options, and saved the best. I just put them all up on Flickr, and I’ll mirror my comments into the blog, because again, it all amused the hell out of me. And really, in the end, that’s all that matters, right?

      1950

      myYearbookPhoto1950

      This is where you see the resemblance to my great, great Aunt Bertha. Except for the fact she never smiled.

      1960

      myYearbookPhoto1960

      These were the addled years. A pair of ill-fitting cat-eye glasses contained the wrong prescription, and I quickly became addicted to numerous OTC headache remedies. A paper cut put me in the hospital, and back on the road to recovery. Sans glasses.

      1966

      myYearbookPhoto1966

      Ambitious is the only word to capture 1966; I was the president of numerous social clubs, and had started my own sorority.

      1970

      myYearbookPhoto1970

      Really, my favorite one of the bunch. I was doing it all – running the local PTA, whipping up gourmet meals, and enjoying life as a sub in the steno pool. Tupperware parties on the weekends, and the hot rollers were always at the ready!

      1978

      myYearbookPhoto1978

      Photo snapped in 1978; I was pretty much underground that year and don’t talk about those days.

      1984

      myYearbookPhoto1984

      Greatest wish of 1984? Star in a heavy metal video that actually aired on..MTV.

      1994

      myYearbookPhoto1994

      Rockin’ the Tonya Harding look, along with the “author pose”.

      Now. Go do yours. Leave me a comment if you post any!

      ETA: I’ve reworked the html NINEteen times and it still won’t center everything. giving up, with my apologies.

      Tomato Surpise & Habanero Eyelids

      August 31, 2008 /

      I did some garden harvesting yesterday; we’re on the backside of the bounty, with much smaller loads of produce. I did get a small bucket of tomatoes, though picking them has become what I like to call, “Tomato Surprise”.  Because we’re now in the stage where some tomatoes are rotten (but still on the vine), and some have been gnawed upon (and still on the vine) – so the firm grip I had several weeks ago has been replaced with a more gingerly touch.  When you can see the blemish, or rotting part, or bug hole, well, you know, and it influences how you pick it, if you pick it at all. But then you have the duplicitous tomatoes, the ones that look firm and ripe and wonderful, and as your hand closes around it, your nerve endings in your fingers immediately alert you to the fact it is NOT that way on the backside. That’s a Tomato Surprise. Bleah.

      So after picking the good tomatoes, I moved on to the pepper bed. I got some absolutely gorgeous peppers – I’ll take pictures tomorrow – we have banana, jalapeno, bell (some have gone red), serrano, purple (stunning!) and habanero.  I pick most of the peppers with shears, snipping the stalk that tethers them to the plant. Peppers are curious, strong where you think they’d be weak, but it’s also easy to pull chunks of living plant away with the pepper. Snipping them is easiest, and doesn’t risk destroying the plant. For whatever reason, I also picked some of the habaneros with my hands (the stems are so tiny!) and a couple popped off at the stem cap, and my brain even thought, “Best be careful, getting that capsaicin on your hands” …and then, par for my life, promptly forgot.

      It was warm yesterday, and I was sweating in the midday sun. I came in, took a shower, and proceeded to hang out, surfing on the computer. Wondering why I was SO CRANKY. Turns out, I used my capsaicin-laced fingers to wipe some sweat from my brow, rubbing just under my eyebrows and causing a very uncomfortable rash on my eyelids. Yep. Habanero juice. Lovely.  The red finally had faded by this morning, but the skin is still sensitive. I’m not even sure what we’re going to do with these habaneros, but I can attest to one thing – they’re spicy!

      Keep enjoyin’ the weekend – I am!

      Can You Hear the Drums, Fernando?

      August 28, 2008 /

      I’ve had what we like to call “A Day.”
      Holy ABBA, Batman, bust out the shot glasses, swing on over to the liquor cabinet and keep ’em comin’.

      I ping-ponged between a breakfast meeting to a client meeting, then off to the Studio to finalize the classes I’d be teaching, plus a lunchtime private lesson I’d scheduled. After waiting 15 minutes, I thought, hrm, maybe I should check my email, and sure enough, the student had canceled. (I found out tonight she had a very, very good reason. Poor thing.)

      I high-tailed it back to the office, where I plowed through emails & a remnant handful of Doritos, and took off for another client/vendor meeting. All the while keeping my eyes peeled for a mailbox, which, have you noticed, no longer exist? Maybe they do, in small clusters or at drive-through post offices, none of which are near me, so I finally gave up on my way back to the office & just stopped at the Plaza branch. Again. No box out front. Must be the internet’s fault. Or terrorists. In fact, I’ve had such a long, machine-gun sorta day, I think it’s both. I should start a website. Wait. That might be …. confusing. Anyway, I went back to the office and stumbled into my iTunes, settling on some old-school Phil Collins to soothe my spirit. Now I’m thinking great, that was Christian Bale’s music choice in American Psycho. It’s been top of mind because I listened to the first part of this “This American Life” podcast when I was in New York last week. Just listen to Starlee Kine’s segment if you don’t have the time for the whole thing. It’s priceless. And will renew your teenage love of Phil Collins if you happen to be around 40 years old.

      Oh, and through all of this, it was eleventy-billion degrees with the humidity.

      But I’m home, the house is clean, we got Thai food for dinner, and it’s starting to rain. I’m going to knit and hang with the D-O-GGs and be so grateful that tomorrow is Friday, I have a half day (hopefully) and it’s a three-day weekend. Sleep. Crafting. Friends. It will be good.

      If I had to do the same again
      I would, my friend, Fernando. Or do you go by Sussudio?

      Oh, I forgot a c-word (which is odd to type, seeing how it’s everyone’s favorite euphemism for uh, that “c-word”) that’s pretty crucial to my list…. Competitive.

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