Month: February 2006 (Page 1 of 4)

Every Tuesday, the 63rd Street Patriots gather at 63rd Street & Ward Parkway, and they protest the war in Iraq. The war. We forget we’re at war, don’t we? We hustle & bustle and cook dinner and watch TV and unless we have someone over there, we forget. Our lives become chaotic and homogenized simultaneously, as we grow distracted. Meanwhile, people die. We forget what we’re fighting for – and the price tag just keeps climbing.

Rain, snow, blazing heat – every Tuesday, they are there.

Every Tuesday, I am reminded that we have men & women in uniform, putting their lives on the line because their country told them to go, and that’s what they committed themselves to do. Regardless of if you agree with why they’re there – human beings are in a fighting, deadly siutation, so far removed from our daily life.

Every Tuesday, I see the sign with the number who have died.

Every Tuesday, I honk my horn for peace.

Every Tuesday, I realize how lucky I am.

Well, I finished JWo’s Valentine’s Day socks – out of Trekking, and they’re just so be-yooo-tiful, if I do say so myself! (It’s all in the yarn!)
Here’s a snap from when I started, and then some finished shots. Because I knit two socks at the same time (one from the inside of the ball, and one from the outside), they ended up being kind of mirror-opposites to each other. I love ’em! And so does he. I did a 1×1 rib at the top, then switched to a Garter Rib (K2,P2 for one round, K second round, repeat) & I was really happy with how that looked. For the most part, followed the pattern from Sensational Socks, though I think it told me to do my gussets on the bottom of the foot – another mistake, I’m guessing, the book has a LOT of errata – so I’m mainly using the book for stitch patterns & cast-on numbers & doing my own thing for heel & toe shaping in the future.

What’s in the future? Well, I’ve already got another pair in the works, with the Socks That Rock yarn we bought when Kristin needed some positive karma during her house-buying adventure. This skein is the Queen Rock colorway, and again, the yarns were just SO much more impressive in person than on the computer. I’m doing a yarn-over cable pattern (again from Sensational Socks) and it looks really cute! I started out doing the Laburnum stitch & that was too lacy for my taste.)

While it may SEEM like a fantastic & tasty idea, putting roughly 1/2 cup of sliced jalapenos on your pizza? Will NOT seem like a fantastic idea later. Check your geneology, you Irish/Dutch/German freakazoid. Your people thought potatoes were tasty plain & boiled……

Awwww, those crazy kids. Went & got themselves caught, their memories of fleeting freedom & life on the run is going to have to keep them company for a long, long time to come. (You can read the article from our local paper here,, though it might require registration.)

It’s like something scripted for one of those Sunday afternoon Court TV/Lifetime movies – she ran a program that brought dogs to inmates for training; he was a convicted murderer. She smuggled him out in a dog crate, and they’ve been on the run ever since. (She is married, with two sons; probably NOT going to be married after this adventure.) It’s been rather big, tawdry news ’round these parts, and when they were captured Friday night, you could tell our CBS affiliate was wetting their pants in delight, breaking in to all the commercial pods to give us updates.

I imagine the movie screenplay is being written & shopped around as I type!

Sometimes I’ll jot down blog ideas in my Yahoo notepad, so I have something to reference, refresh my memory, etc. Usually I forget to go and look at what I’ve written, but today I thought, “What do I have in there?”

And the most recent note I have? “Complain about lint.”

I fucking hate lint. I’m not sure what else I thought I was gonna get from that, but hey, there it is, and I’m putting it out there for everyone to see. Down with the man, down with the lint. BOOOO on lint.

No, I’m not discovering some untapped love of Clay Aiken. I’m talking about how we ultimately are valued in this world, in this finite amount of time on this earth.Is it the work we do? Is it the mistakes we make? Is it our character, our ethics, our religion, the car we drive, how much money we make? Granted, I am writing this with the remnants of bitterness still around my gills, and I can’t go into all the details, but suffice it to say, in the giant game of life, I am Charlie Brown a hell of a lot more often than I’m Lucy Van Pelt.

My mistake is that I believe people are good. I still do believe that, but I think what I fail to remember is that people are flawed, and there are flawed people who can only direct their feelings & actions outwardly, seemingly without regard for the fact they are hurting other people to make themselves feel better. It’s as though they are keeping some invisible score, X! Check one for me, I found a mistake and I threw it in your face. Sorry, Charlie Brown, you’re flat on your back again. YOU’RE NOT PERFECT Charlie Brown and I will never let you forget it. It would not surprise me if this was how Lucy’s parents treated her….

I will tell you when those times have happened to me, and the sky is over me & the earth hard under my back, I feel my jaw harden. I beat myself up for anything I did to contribute to the mistake & situation. I replay every moment like a slow-mo Olympic camera crew, flinching every time the mistake happens. I joked tonight that I’m the best at beating myself over the head, and it’s true because I used to be six feet tall. (I’m short – 5’3″)

But I’m rapidly learning that beating myself up truly isn’t the solution. I do make mistakes. I will continue to make mistakes. The first step I can do to break the above cycle is to forgive myself. I believe one true measure of a person isn’t how they behave when everything’s “right” – it’s how they handle crisis, mistakes, problems. The person who chooses a benevolent route, one with forgiveness & understanding, that is the person I wish to be, and the people I wish to have around me. And no, Lucy, I don’t feel like playing football today.

Ahhhh, there’s nothing as joyful & life-affirming as Edward Gorey….heh.

You will drink too much gin. Not the worst way to

die, but you won’t remember too much of your

life. Hey, at least you made some people

laugh!

What horrible Edward Gorey Death will you die?
brought to you by Quizilla

Dang, I thought I’d be Neville, who died of ennui! (That one is my personal favorite.) You can see excerpts from the book here. (oo, just found the whole shebang here….This reminds me, I have an unfinished project of framing all of alphabet ‘misfortunes’ (I had the desk calendar & carefully cut out all the images.) I need to get on that so we can hang them someplace….cheerful.

Have you seen the movie Clockwatchers? Well, that is my life today (and yesterday). We experience these days every so often, where the daily flow (usually flood) suddenly retreats, and you’re left with this wobbly feeling in your legs because you’re standing on dry ground again & trying to get your bearings. More than one day of this dearth of activity, though, and I’m ready to pry my eyes out with rusty ice picks.

Oh, sure, I have crap I could do. It’s all the little higgledy-piggledy stuff, though, that stands between me and Absolutely Nothing To Do, so instead, I fluffernutter around and stare at my computer screen while working on a document about Department Procedures and Processes With Which We Will Conquer The World. Riveting stuff, let me tell you. Everything takes on slow-motion characteristics. Walking up steps, I imagine I look like the bionic woman Wooowooowooooh woooohwooowooooh streams of light ricocheting off my arms because I’m going sooooooo sloooooowly. Part of me is jumping up and down inside my brain, listing off the 10,000 I “would” be doing if I were at home. Truth be told, I’d probably be asleep. Doing nothing can really wear you out!

I completely must have been an imp in another life. Probably also a drunken house elf who spent a lot of time alternating between weeping and shrieking with hysterical laughter in a elfen bi-polar way. All of that aside, I looooove me the prankety-pranks. LOVE THEM. And even worse, don’t particularly like them played on me, making me the WORST of all pranksters, the sort who can dish it out but cannot take it. Just like an unruly house elf!

So, right now, I have that high-in-my-chest compression of tickledness, that pressure that makes you feel like the mouth of a baloon stretched flat and taught and all air coming out of you will be at a high braying volume of noise. Because we played a little prank on my boss (always the best person to fuck with, don’t you think? Hi! I’m fired!) and it’s harmless yet funny.

Kristin & I both got Highly! Scented! candles as gifts at the holidays, and I put mine in our breezeway at home & lit it. Ten minutes later I had it blown out, the lid screwed back on, a permanent grimace etched on my face, what with the old-lady heavy-perfumed dreck saturating the air. Kristin never opened hers, until today, when I dared her to. Then, she & the other member of our department decided to HIDE IT in our boss’ office in an obscure corner with the lid off, and we would await the inevitable bitching, “What the hell is that smell, ass clowns?” from over the wall. But! Before that could happen, he came downstairs, and now is having a MEETING in his office with somebody from the Outside World, who must be wondering why our boss smells like a Cloying English Garden.

As long as nobody passes out or has a seizure, it’s still funny.

…If you’re a guy.

Just take a lesson from my husband, and in no time at all?

You have a drinking game.

Don’t worry, it’s quite simple, and much easier than being the Lithuanian judge.
First thing you look for are crotch & butt shots.
Then, sexual positions.
Last, and certainly not least, you watch for somebody to crash, fall, or get dropped.

What more do you need?