My knitting crew jokes about us all growing old together, and getting rooms next to each other when our time comes to be ….. moved there. Of course, I hope the Wo will be moving there with me, though they will probably take his shotgun from him, because I don’t expect him to ever want to stop shooting ducks, or for that matter, evil squirrels. And as long as he has access to a window, a sniper shack can be established.

I think it would be nice if my friend Kyra gets an adjoining room to me, maybe we could have a little sitting room between us, where we both wander in and start to talk about our knitting, and our yarn collections (which are conveniently housed in an on-site POD the size of a barn.) I’m thinking about her right now because I just had a little take-out, on which I put a wee bit too much of the Sriracha hot chili sauce, and my tongue is SPEAKING FLAMENCO. Holy crap. She did this on Tuesday, and I laughed at/with her. Man. Karma, such a bitch.

We had some good laughs last night, at knit night, and most of them I don’t remember, because my head is a sieve. OH, yes, Miss Kyra has a cell phone that’s so old it’s got the TMJ or something similar, essentially, it’s a rotary phone meets a bag phone and they got shrunken. So her phone company is making her get a new one, and we had some good times imagining if she’d wanted to make her current phone more bluetooth, perhaps involving a colander and some wire antennae. (Speaking of blueteeth, let’s just all pinky swear we’re not going to get those little headsets, and if we do? Let’s not wear them unless you’re actually ON A CALL. It’s just too Star-Trekky for me.)

I’m as fallible as my pal, having had an entire conversation before lunch with Kristin about how I was SO HAPPY Leslie made me her friend on Ravelry, because I’ve been trying to make friends all over that damn thing, and when people don’t friend me back, I am – how do you say? – crestfallen. Which I intellectually comprehend is absolutely stupid. BUT! Crestfallen! You are so familiar! You were with me during all my formative years! And so, ok, back to the conversation, I said it would really stink if people I actually KNEW and counted as knitty friends rejected me. And then? Three hours later? I chirped at Kristin, “Leslie’s on Ravelry! She made me her friend!” And didn’t believe her when she said I’d already told her this.

YAY! Dementia, glad to meetcha! How about staying in the basement. Downstairs.

But you know what I haven’t forgotten? Everything James has ever done. (Just ask him. He’ll say it’s true.) OR the plumber. That fucker better have my shower fixed by my birthday or there will be a cognitive holy jihad unleashed on him (once I get the broken part back, because if he isn’t going to fix it, I’m not going to get medieval on his ass until I have the bad part, I may be irritated, and I may be forgetful, but I’m not stupid.) I am enjoying James’ shower, he has the kick ass shower head, and he also has Dr. Bronner’s Peppermint Soap, but really, if you had two forms and I had to sign one? My name would be written, in Sharpie, on the one labeled, “I DON’T LIKE TO SHARE.” I am an only child. And I want my assortments of choices back. And my shower radio, even if it’s still tuned to the horrid morning show I can barely stand. (I keep forgetting to change it. And am ambivalent about the music offerings on other stations. The music is the big piece. So stasis, it wins again.) Oh, did you know Dr. Bronner’s soaps are magic? James really likes the soap & it’s helped his skin. When he was singing its praises (right before our forced ShowerShare2007) I accused James of talking to the bottle in the shower, and that the soap is his friend, not mine. (See, this friend thing? It runs through EVERYthing…>)

Seriously, I just scrolled up to try to remember what in hell this post was about. (My plumber-anger distracted me. And the soothing sounds of Tracy Chapman are barely a poultice because he said he would call me back THIRTY-FIVE minutes ago. ARGH! He is totally doing this so he doesn’t have to drive out today to fix it. Unhinged! I am becoming! I CAN NOT HAS SHOWER!) I better just end for the day. I’m really glad it’s Friday.

OMG, our intern just brought her Corgi puppy in. Puppies (and peppermint soap) are pretty magical.