Sometimes a girl needs a little cheese.

Every now and then, Etsy gets me. Today I decided to explore the world of stitch markers as research for possible projects for my stash of beads, and I came across this deliciousness. Fake cheese. For a girl who just "joined" Weight Watchers for the third or fourth time (this time it's for real), these cheese stitch markers were too delectable and Point free to resist. I can't wait for them to arrive!! I have made a deal with myself too, because there were some donut stitch markers that I also must have: When I've lost 3lbs, then I can get the donut stitch markers. And that's how you'll know when I get there.

To see what else the cheese maker has to offer, and I suggest you do, check out the Little Companions for Life shop.

(Also, check out the donuts, which kind would you get?)

Mommy, I made a short film!!

Go see My Husband Is So Hot on YouTube. Senor and I wrote this short film last year, and it has finally made its internet debut! Please check it out and spread the word. I'm very proud of our work and of the good work of our friends and associates. Mostly, I'm just excited to finally see it!!!!

(You may wonder why I am not in it... but I am, I'm the boobs in the red shirt.)

Note Added 7/25: I took the part as the boobs because they were filming on a day that I had to teach dance, and that was the only part short enough that they could shoot it before I had to get to class. And, well, the fact of the matter is that I am the most voluptuous of the girls in our company... Never thought I'd grow up to say that under any circumstances, much less in film-making circumstances.

Who set this thing to "Head Games"?

Guess what I got? I got a hat! I got the hat I was supposed to get from my assassin in Head Games "thousands of years ago." I am so excited, and I mean absolutely nothing but good will to my hat sender...

... because she knit it out of the goodness of her heart! She was not my assassin, she wasn't even in the same circle of doom that I was, as far as I can tell. See, I won Head Games without ever getting a hat... I won because I was the only one left who hadn't received a hat, and that was because no one knew what happened to it. So I did win, but I didn't feel like a winner. Get me so far?

Well then this lovely woman named Carol e-mailed me to offer to knit me a hat from scratch because the point was that everyone who played was supposed to get a hat. That was the REAL point of Head Games. So she knit one just for me. Just because.

What a wonderful woman. And a Canadian, at that! She actually paid international postage just to make me feel (and look) GOOD!


Lovely Canadians and their lovely handknits!!!

Thank you Carol, so much. I just love it! I can't wait for it not to be burning-ass hot so that I can wear it.

She also included some bitchin' Canada treats just for me:

There was a pen, too, but it's already been pressed into service at my office, and I forgot to bring it home. I just love the way it looks on my desk!!

I can't wait to go to Canada and say a real thank you to the Canadian air... that's as close to Carol as I'll get for now... Unless you live in Toronto, Carol... Do you? I'll meet you at Lettuce Knit in 3 weeks!!!!

*I'm going to leave this picture on my blog, in spite of the fact that I have something in my teeth. Did you notice the first time? Go back and look... Yeah. I'm awesome. But I don't have any illusions about who I am. I am the kind of person who publishes photos of themselves with cilantro in her teeth... Oy!

Knitting Dismorphic Disorder

Perhaps you have heard of Body Dismorphic Disorder (BDD). It is a psychological disorder where a person perceives their body as profoundly different than it is in reality. For example, super thin anorexic who looks in the mirror and sees a fat person; super huge body builder who looks in the mirror and sees a scrawny wimp.

I don't have this. With the exception of the skinny mirror in our guest room, I feel I am realistically acquainted with myself. I'm not the hugest person ever, but I'm not as thin as I used to be... DANGER! The change is subtle in the grand scheme of things because I can still wear a good portion of my wardrobe (mostly the stuff I don't like, but I digress). My image of myself HAS changed just enough that it is virtually impossible for me to knit the correct size garment for myself.

Thus I am diagnosing what is perhaps an undocumented psychological disorder: Knitting Dismorphic Disorder (KDD).

Those afflicted with KDD live with a deep fear that they will spend hours knitting a garment that will then not fit them, being either too small or too big. For me, I fear the too-small garment. So I measure myself, and then I have Senor measure to make sure, and I peer eagerly at the pattern.

What's this I find?! One size's finished measurement is smaller than I am, and the other is bigger. Both usually a lot smaller or bigger than I am. Which do you choose? Now take into consideration that I have gotten my gauge with a very unstretchy silk yarn... There will be little ease in this knitting... Go with the bigger, right?

Or wrong?

The spiral capelet (that's that pinky-orange thing that wouldn't grow) is complete. It has not been photographed however, because if I let go of the damn thing in order to grasp my camera, it falls down around my feet like a winning horseshoe. It's THAT MUCH TOO BIG-- It goes over my biggest parts, which I can tell you are not my shoulders, where it is supposed to rest. I knit it with unstretchy cotton, so I opted for the bigger size... and what do I have to show for it? Ring Around Senora.

And many wasted hours.

So how do I feel now that I am 39" into the Retro Redux Shrug from Lace Style and I hold it up to myself and it already reaches elbow to elbow, and the directions say I'm supposed to knit ANOTHER 6" before I even add the ribbed cuffs? The looooong ribbed cuffs?

I feel a bit sick. I'll let you know how it comes out... Anyone got a big friend with cold monkey arms?

*This post not intended to replace a physician's or psychologist's care. If you fear you have KDD, please see a professional.

**It's all okay. I went to look at some Retro shrugs in progress at the Lace Style Knitalong and it turns out I did the whole thing incorrectly anyway and have to start over. I missed the line in the pattern right after "CO X number of sts"-- you know, the one that says, "You're about to do the next 9 inches wrong, you dumbass."

Back to balls... Maybe I should choose a different yarn...

Retail Therapy anyone?

For a little pick me up, check out my friend's jewelry on Etsy:

DLS Designs Jewelry

She has some really beautiful things, and a few that I have my eye on... So you better go buy what YOU like before I get my wallet out!!!

I didn't end up buying any yarn the other day, but I did get some new lip gloss (it helped perk me up). I have a trip to Canada coming up and guess where I'm going to get to go?!

Lettuce Knit!!!! Stomping ground of the Yarn Harlot herself as well as many of the other bloggers that I keep my eye on. AND I'LL BE THERE!!!! So I'm saving my "Sorry I Didn't Get the Job" purchase for my trip. I can't wait!!

Save me, Not-Good-Enough Girl! Oh wait, Superman's Availabe? Nevermind, then.

Not all of you knew this, but I spent the last two weeks in the interview process for the position of Dance Director at my old high school. I think it was probably third on my short list of dream jobs. (First: wife, check! Second: mother, will get there soon. Third: Going home to old Chadwick.)

I didn't get it, though. I didn't really know how badly I wanted the job until now. And it's not a matter of applying elsewhere, because other schools are not my school, you know? This desire to teach dance was location specific.

So I'm having a bummer of a day. I slept until 10am just to avoid having to call my parents and tell them that I didn't get it. I found out via a "thank you for making yourself vulnerable you silly deluded girl" note in the mail, which we picked up at 10:30 last night when we got home from a party.

This is a downer of a post, I know. I suspect this is why there's never been a comic about Not-Good-Enough Girl. The superhuman ability to accept rejection isn't all that inspiring.

Oh well. Off to the yarn store to make myself feel better. I need something soft and fuzzy.

11 1/2"

So, first of all, the directions said I had to knit in lace pattern until 11.5". I didn't discover this until I successfully reached 11 inches and then looked excitedly for the next direction. I was crestfallen. I said to myself, "Self, knit four more rows to add the 1/2 inch you forgot about, you dumbass. Then pick up the book AGAIN and look excitedly for the next direction." 1 decrease round involving one p2tog every 12 stitches or so, and then this:

Continue even until the piece measures 2.5 inches from decrease round!!!

Gah!!! After I discovered this disheartening direction, I knit to the end of a ball of Cotton Ease and called it a night.

At least it's now growing as slowly as slightly greener grass...

Excitement and Pressure

My knitting stamina is about at a comfortable 5K these days. I've done a few larger projects now, and I'm proud, but they were like struggling through 10Ks without quite enough training. After my last 10K (Sleeveless Tux shirt), I decided to do a 5K for fun... but I didn't know I was registering for a 10K by mistake.



It's not complicated. It's going well. No mistakes (knock knock knock). But it's growing like grass. I keep measuring to see when I'll reach the "Knit in pattern until the piece measures 11" from cast on edge".

I've been at 9" for roughly the entire 21st century!



It just doesn't grow, and my patience is growing thin. Which leads me to measure more, which leads to more incidents of "Still 9 inches?!"

And it's not an unenjoyable knit. I just have so many things I want to get to... So many projects in the wings that MUST BE STARTED NOW!!!!! I'm deep in the Pressure and Excitement haze. The pressure of choosing the next project to commit to, the excitement of someday, maybe, eventually getting finished with this gosh-darn spiral shell!!!

These Socks Were Made for Walkin'

Some might say it's about time on this one. I may be alone in that sentiment (I don't know how many of you are keeping an eye on unfinished projects in my life), but still I say it without hesitation, "It's about time!"



Jaywalker 3.0 is finished. It's not without mistakes, as is my apparent destiny with all of my Jaywalkers. This pair had one weird big stitch that I guess I just didn't pull tight-- I'm talking about nearly an inch of slack on one stitch. I can't explain it. It also has one slipped stitch that got slipped one too many times, and it had a dropped stitch that I'd have had to frog more than half of a nearly finished second sock to catch. I don't think so! It was at the top of the heel flap. I just wove it down as far as it could go and sewed it down. No worries. It's just a sock. I'm okay with a mistake or two. Not on my sweaters or other types of projects, but for some reason a mistake on a Jaywalker doesn't seem to bother me much. Maybe because I make so many.

Whatever the reason, you can't tell at all that there are any problems when you look at them, and that's what matters. I'm going to e-mail a photo off to Grumperina. Maybe I'll be the 1000th pair! Wouldn't that be amazing?!

Did you notice in the photo that the jaywalkers are cruising my blog? They are big fans, ever since they were cast on. And they are such lucky socks because they can cruise Mommy, Look What I Made in the comfort of their own living room. Our DSL is all up and running at our new lovely computer. Now we can have some fun!

(And we can upload photos from the camera at home over the weekend. Yay!)

Who's a Brave Little Blogger?

Yes, this is Senora in her natural habitat. I am not ashamed. (Actually, I am a bit, but I think it's only fair to represent myself accurately). We got a new computer and a new desk, and it took us all weekend to get it all in place and all the wires on the correct side of the desk legs and all the furniture in a sensible location around it.

This is Senor in his natural habitat. Actually, this one is less accurate than mine. Senor doesn't usually look quite this non-plussed in the presence of chaos and disarray.

And lest you forget that sometimes I do look nice:

This photo was taken at Carney's on Sunset Blvd (the place that looks like a train and sells hot dogs and beer in plastic cups, Mmm-mmm!) before the Lindsey Buckingham concert. I shall now present my review of this fine fine show.

Mr. Buckingham (for he is a HE) was once a part of the still popular though broken-up band Fleetwood Mac. If you ask me, I couldn't tell that the rest of them weren't there. True, I would have liked to hear "Songbird", but even in its absence, I couldn't help but be overwhelmed by how much I enjoyed this concert. I went into it not knowing what to expect from the venue (House of Blues) or the act, and I was quite pleasantly surprised by both. As far as the venue is concerned, I think it was good that I enjoyed the performance so much or I might not have enjoyed House of Blues so much; standing for the entire length of a concert would be gruelling without proper diversion. But since I was enjoying it, I found the intimacy and overall scale of the place perfect. We stood a mere 15-20 feet from the stage. From that vantage point, we got an amazing view of Lindsey's elaborate and elegant guitar playing.

Man, that guy can wail!! The highlights for me were "Never Going Back Again"- a song I love for its sparseness, which was only enhanced by being so up close and personal with the instrument and artist. It was just the man and his guitar, nothing else. The only thing that could have made this song better than the Rumors version was the absence of everything else, and that is what we were given. It was perfect.

I also loved "Big Love." You may not be familiar with this song, as I was not, but go watch it. If I knew how to make YouTube play right here on my blog as some more talented bloggers can, I would. Instead, here is a link. Big Love.

Oh, Man!!!

Also, how can you complain about "Holiday Road" as an encore?! I love an encore that makes you feel like all of the compulsory applause were worth it. ** Generally, I object to the obligatory encore. I know you haven't played your most famous song yet. Don't make me beg for it. I already stood in line and payed out the you know what to hear it.** In this case, however, I wasn't expecting to hear "Holiday Road", as it is a rather silly song, so when it started and I recognized it, I laughed and jumped up and down and be-bopped my entire way through it.

You can go your own way... or you can go Linsdey's way. I'll tell you which way I'm going.

Yarnies!!

Hey all you yarnies! Go check out Noteworthy Knits' contest for free yarn. It's a super easy one, a "Just Show Up" kind of contest. (I'll pretend I don't know that I'm just encouraging you to go reduce my odds of winning) Of course, it would be nice if you take a browse through the posts as well. There's some good stuff there! Thanks Noteworthy Knits!!

Noteworthy Knits

So. How about some knitting updates? Since the finishing of a major project, I am sewing my wilds oats a bit.

OAT


Close-up of OAT stitch pattern.

This is the Spiral Lace Capelet from Wrap Style. I enjoy this stitch pattern because it's easy to remember, and I don't have to pay too much attention. It does seem to grow VERY slowly, though. I also bothered to calculate the yards of yarn per round: 3.5. This is fun for the Stashalong progress, as I am going for pure yard reduction.

OAT

Started and finished the first one quite some time ago. The second has been taking a backseat, BUT. BUT. Now that I near the second heel flap, the acceleration begins to take hold. Zoom Zoom Zoom.

Note: When I was a smoker (oh don't act so shocked), my co-worker and I had a code for when it was time to go have a cig. She'd peer over my cubicle wall and whisper, "Zoom Zoom," just like the kid in the commercial. It wasn't a code we discussed. It just happened that way one day. So I'd sit all day and wait for those two magic words. Zoom Zoom. Hey, man, I was really addicted. The commercial still makes me want to smoke. Right on, Mazda. Those were the good old days.

Ta-daaaa!!

IT'S FINISHED!!!
The Sleeveless Tuxedo Shirt
Summer IK 2007
Yarn: Elann Lara (yuck!)
Size 3 Addi Turbos

I don't know if this yarn would be easier to work with on bigger needles, but on size 3s it was pretty dismal. I had to concentrate much too hard on the stockinette, and as for the lace panels, my teeny tiny crochet hook saved my life on the decrease stitches, especially p2togtbl, of which there are quite a few. I think I have enough yarn left to make a baby item of some kind, but I'll probably give myself a break for a while.

This knit was a bit of a gut effort, but I don't think it would have been if it weren't for the yarn. There is a lot of crochet involved, and not being too adept at crochet, it slowed me down a bit... but again here, so did the yarn. It wasn't any easier to crochet than it was to knit.

Oh yeah, and I did a lot of the crochet wrong. I discovered it too late, after then ends had been woven in. Fortunately, it looks cool anyway, so it didn't throw me into too much of a depression.

As for fit. I chose the correct size. Any smaller and the buttons would pop open (they many anyway, but that is due to button loop inconsistencies). This tank just doesn't strike me as a stand-alone piece. The layered look is best, I think. There's just a little wavy, bagginess around the edge of the armholes, a little narrowness between the two straps (makes me look like a scary hulky swimmer), a little curl under at the hem... it all adds up to Not Quite Right.

And yet, I'm still thrilled that I finished it. I stayed focussed, and I got it done before receiving the next IK. That's pretty good. It took less than a month.

Now, onto bigger and better fitting things! :)

Nose to the Grindstone

The Sleeveless Tuxedo Shirt from Summer 07 IK... It's not an inspiring knit so far. Upon finishing the back, I didn't have that, "Wow, look how cool, it's part of a piece of clothing!" feeling that I got with the Ruffled Surplice. And when I lay it out, it looks like a mess because of the rolling (one way on the sides, the other way on the ends), but this is not why we knit this piece.

We knit it for the lace panels on the chest and shoulders. We knit and we knit and we knit for the privilege of getting to work that lace. Man, I hope it's worth it. Here's my progress on the front piece:

Are you impressed? Yeah, I didn't think so.

One thing about the yarn, Lara by Elann, weird gappy spots that happen for absolutely no apparent reason. I checked the back of this spot... there's nothing wrong here. So why does one row turn out all Hobbitty and the other all tall and V-of-Deathy?!

Man, the lace has a LOT to make up for.

Friend of a Gay

I don't know what the deal is, friends, but I seem to find myself suddenly a receptacle for anti-gay sentiments from a couple of the patients here at the dental office.

Yesterday, one of our elderly ladies took a moment while her driver was outside to inform me that he is "A Gay", but that he's doing a good job anyway.

What a friend of a Gay to say? "Well, ma'am, they are still nice people, even if they are a little different from us."

"Are you one?" She asked me.

"No, ma'am, I have a husband."

"Well, that doesn't necessarily mean much." Indeed. Well. I politely explained that I love my husband very much, but that I have been asked if I was "one" before.

It was all a bit overwhelming, but she is 89, and she was complimenting her driver, albeit back-handedly. I let it pass. No use instructing an 89 year old in political correctness, especially since she was doing her best to be discreet.

When she was finished with her appointment, a bit early, she came out into the waiting area to find that her driver was still out running an errand because we had told him she'd be done a little later. She expressed her concern that he might have gone out and run off with someone and forgotten about her, you know, since he's a gay.

"I'm sure he's coming back for you, ma'am." Talk about paranoid. I did want to inform her that he is not a gay; he is gay. And his shoes were fabulous.

That brings us to today.

Today, a particularly swishy patient who claims to be straight (though I have never believed him), wanted to talk to me about the "boy toys" in West Hollywood, asked me if I've been to the Gay Pride Parade, and then used a rather offensive nickname, which I will not repeat here on this blog, in reference to the Catholic priests and their alleged misconduct. I am not for said misconduct, but I do take issue with his lumping the humpings of pedophilic priests in with the behavior of the general gay population. This man did make sure to check that I wasn't Catholic before telling the story, of course, but he did not check to see if I was a friend of the gay community, which he knows I am. (He didn't use the "f" name, for those who are wondering, but a much more juvenile two word name starting with two Rs)

What's a receptionist to do? I think he thought I would think it was clever or funny, because I know he knows I'm in theater and therefor friendly with homosexuals. I just didn't think it was funny. Perhaps because he was not referring to his good friends the "R.R."s but the dirty child molester R.R.s.

I didn't know what to say. I kept trying to get him to schedule his appointment and leave. To no avail. He thought we were having a good time.

What is going on, people?! I don't want to hear this stuff!!! A dental office is not the place to correct the prejudices of our clients. It is my job to make them want to come back, not to make them feel like the jackasses they are.

I'm exhausted. To all the Gays I've loved before, I'm sorry there are people like that out there. They suck!

On Forgiving Yourself

As someone whom I've decided must have integrity, I tend to carry a lot of guilt. Things that I know are wrong, I basically don't do. I mean big things. I do on occasion throw away a recyclable or wear brown shoes with a black belt or dye my hair before the recommended 6 week limit. But the big bad things I don't do. And for others, I do big good things.

But for me? I never do THE big good thing. I am not a healthy machine.

As someone who enjoys a drink, I have often seen the "Are you sure you're not an alcoholic?" question run through my head. The answer is Yes, I'm sure. There is an addiction that far surpasses my interest in alcohol, and that is food. I have a codependent relationship with my fridge, and I cannot identify the flash point of the affair.

There is no purging going on, for those who might be concerned about that, and it's not a case of driving through McDonald's and ordering food for four and then parking and eating and crying. Of course, I mean no disrespect to those out there who are tormented by food to that extent. I don't know how they feel, but I often think that the two experiences are not all that different.

I'm a sneaker. I've discovered how to eat without thinking, so I really never have to take responsibility for the total intake. I sneak from myself and others. At restaurants, I look at the menu to find the most indulgent, largest portioned meal that I feel I can order without causing questionable looks from my dining partners. It's a game or a challenge. It's a desperation to get something that I'll never feel like I have... whatever it is...

I'm not sure why I've felt compelled to write about this in particular today. It has something to do with eating while feeling guilty about not blogging. Seriously, a stressor as small as knowing that I haven't blogged in a few days can be the thing that makes me refill my bowl of chocolate chips, which is the perfect solution to avoiding a task you've already avoided too long (many small bites, many trips to the mouth, it takes a long time, it's a process-- you can see how smoking fit so nicely). So I am breaking the silence with a confession. I have eaten because I have not kept up my bargain with you fine people to whom I love to reach out. That is not okay. I want ours to be a healthy relationship. I want to forgive myself for missing a week or two of posting.

I haven't posted because I don't find myself particularly interesting right now. I've lost track of my personal identity over the last week or two. I've done some cool stuff, for sure, and as Senor has requested, I will write a post my thoughts about the Lindsey Buckingham concert soon. I've knitted some cool stuff, too. I've seen a few friends. Nothing has been bad, but I feel as though I am operating in Survival Mode-- just get through this day, tomorrow will be better. And it's not the activities or the people or the relationships that need to be better. You are all doing very well by me. It's me that needs to get better.

I heard somewhere that food is like a friend. For some it is a good friend, one who nourishes them and gives them energy and makes them feel good. Not for me. For me it a friend who punishes me and drags me down and insults me and makes me hate it and need it at the same time. To me, food is that friend that makes you forget why you liked them in the first place. I have people-friends like this, too. I am sure that an expensive private practice therapist could tell me the connection. But I wish that I could figure it out for myself. I don't feel that I'll be able to break my habits without an answer to this question, at least not for very long.

I'm so tired, people. I've been in bed with this thought pattern for so long that I don't even know how to end this post. I don't know if I'm asking for help or advice or just understanding or a clean conscience or a person who knows how this feels... Or just to get it outside myself. To make it not a secret anymore.

I do promise this: My next post will not be such a downer. But sometimes you just have to admit that you're human. I pretend not to be human, like I am above all that humanity crap. I don't need to pretend, though, right? You're all human, too, right? Flaws and all, there shouldn't be any need to be better than human, and yet it seems to be expected of us all.

It's hard to feel like the only one.

Not Knitting

Please don't take this to mean that I am "not knitting." I am. But it's all pretty dull as far as showing off goes, so I am holding off on the showing off until I have at least a larger amount of dullness to show.

Today I want to ask a question: Do you know what integrity is?

A friend of mine recently said that his favorite quality in his fiance is her integrity. The entire bridal shower went Awwwwww! the way only a group of women high on mimosas and matrimony can. I did, too. But I think I awwwwed at the fact that this man named such an unusual trait and had obviously put some thought into his answer. (Coulda said she was hot. Coulda said funny. Coulda said a lot of things. Didn't.) I was impressed... but later I realized that I wasn't sure why I was impressed. What is integrity, anyway?

I'm not an idiot, I sorta get it. It's about doing the right thing and being consistent about it. Something about being yourself. Sorta. Right? (Incidentally, I was never quizzed on this word for my SATs. Maybe I'd have gotten into Yale if I had...)

But I've never thought to myself, "Self, you have integrity!" or "Self, you're a little short in the integrity department." It's not a word I identify with in regards to myself. Am I honest? Yes. To peoples' faces? Usually (if asked). Am I funny? I think so (seriously, I'm hilarious). Am I humble? Obviously. Am I forgiving? To a fault. I'm a lot of good things. But am I... integrious? Integrish? Integrated? What is the adjective version of this mysterious word?!

I am not asking you to tell me if you think I have integrity. I think it might be something I need to identify in myself in order to believe you anyway. I want to know what you think integrity IS. And do you think YOU have it? Is it something you ever thought of at all?

What is integrity to you?

I'm It

I thought I'd escaped the inevitable tagging for the 7 Random Things About Me list that is going around, but the tagging was, as I have stated, inevitable.

So why fight it?

Here are the rules:
A)Each person tagged gives 7 random facts about themselves.
B)Those tagged need to write in their blogs the 7 facts, as well as the rules of the game.
C)You need to tag 7 others and list their names on your blog.
D)You have to leave those you plan on tagging a note in their comments so they know that they I have been tagged and to read your blog.

You should know up front that I plan to break rule C and D.

1. I got scammed by Poetry.com's poetry contest. I wrote a poem that I thought was good, and may have actually been good, but I didn't know that was irrelevant, and that's why the scam works. Flattery gets them everything, and my ego caused me to buy the book that my poem is now in, along with every other crappy poem ever written. The poems are 10-15 to a page, depending on length, and there are probably 150 pages or so. Imagine if every one of those people paid $29.99 for the book! (I hate to admit that it may actually have cost more than that) Some of them probably bought one for their moms, too. I paid for the right to claim idiocy later. Lesson learned. Don't make this mistake. I later submitted the poem to several REAL literary publications. No dice. No surprise.

2. I danced at Felicity Huffman's birthday party. Not on a pole, not on a club dance floor... I choreographed a group of dancers for a song and dance extravaganza planned by her husband, William H. Macy. Apparently Eric Stoltz and Mare Winningham were there also... and JENNIFER GREY?!! I did not get confirmation on this, but it was rumored she was there. I couldn't look at any one's faces, of course, because I was afraid that mid-kick line I'd recognize the dance movie icon and forget what I was doing. "I didn't do the lift, but it was good." Still... How's that for Celebrity Adjacent?!

3. I coined the phrase Celebrity Adjacent. As far as I know, no one else has ever used it, but you can if you want, just don't take credit. It doesn't necessarily imply physical proximity as much as it does social proximity. It's a medium-sized step or two before Groupie or Hanger-On. My social circle intersects occasionally with celebrities, thus I am celebrity adjacent. It's all very Venn.

4. I hate clowns. This in itself is not very random. Many of you probably share this aversion. Add to it the fact that I also hate the Big Head characters and places like Disneyland and Chuck E. Cheese, and I would move it into the random category. I don't like those guys because I don't know who's in there. Man or Woman? Young or Old? Pervy or Non-threatening? Licking lips or smiling benignly? As far as I am concerned, every Big Head is an Old, Pervy Man Licking his Lips. Sorry Easter Bunny.

5. I am not a red head. Nor do I have straight hair. All you personal friends know this, but my internet peeps probably don't. Not based on the photos represented here. I've been dying my hair red for about 7 years. The curly thing... I've been fighting it since puberty. I can only fight it on a daily basis when my hair is on the short side. Which is why it's short right now. Feria-- love you! Flat Iron-- more important than a tooth brush. Don't tell my dad.

6. My dad is a dentist. I work for him. I don't have perfect teeth, but that's okay because they LOOK perfect. I have many fillings, a crown, veneers. I had braces twice and neck gear. My godfather is my orthodontist. I was dealt a good hand, tooth-wise.

7. I respect all the people in the world who are brave enough not to mess their lives up. We get very little credit for staying within the lines, for making the difficult decision not to give in to life-altering temptations. Everyone loves a recovery story, but no one notices a good old fashioned ... what, there isn't even a name for it. Success story? That implies fame and fortune. I don't know what to call it, and that's why I get so mad. No one ever dedicated a yearbook to someone who never screwed up. My senior class high school yearbook was dedicated to a girl who was brave enough to admit she was on heroin and seek treatment. I'm not saying that doesn't take guts; I'm sure it does. I watch Intervention. But doesn't not doing drugs take guts too? What about the other 59 of us seniors who never shot up in the first place? Where is our yearbook dedication? I salute you, Straight and Narrow Walkers. Whales who don't swim upstream and get trapped, I salute you too!

8. Bonus #8: I'm a hypocrite. Every time I bring up the fact that I quit smoking I realize that I don't really deserve credit for that. It wasn't easy, and I'm so glad I did it, and so are my family and friends... But it's hardly something to brag about. Those of you who have never smoked: Keep up the good work. You are brave.

What I know you've all been waiting for...

She was looking for me. I was drying my hair.

What's so hard about this? She's napping in a chair!

Look at that grin. That's what handknits can do.

Lovin' the look of this!!! We'll at least be photogenic parents, if not actually GOOD parents... Of course, we'll be probably do just fine at the actual parenting too. We fake it like champs!!!

Ahh, Future Daddies of America!!!

Ahhh, Future Grandmas of America!!!!

Look at these two. That's the real mommy (and daddy shooting the other angle in the background). The rest of us just pretended.


Weird, I didn't take any photos of poop, wee wee al fresca, spit up, dirty bottles, hanging laundry... I guess those things are just so easy to forget about when there's all that cuteness!!

Look What Else I Can Do

http://www.youtube.com/waysidetv

Please check out these shorts that Senor and I worked on. If you like what you see, please subscribe to our channel on YouTube as we will be adding new content on a regular basis, all of which Senor and I either appeared in, worked on, wrote or generally approved of! Please tell your friends, relatives, loved ones and unloved ones. :) We put a lot of love and effort into these projects, and now it's time to get love back!!!

(Wouldn't watch them with your wee kids, though. All you mommies and daddies out there, wait until after bedtime. It's nothing terribly scandalous, but I wouldn't call it kid appropriate, either.)

Squares for Lone Knitter

These squares have been finished for ages, but I just wove in the ends today. I'm going to try to get them out tomorrow. It's so awesome to get something like this finished finally. It serves two purposes:

1) Sending something for a good cause, which makes everyone feel good.

2) Getting a little pile of procrastinator's guilt out of my apartment. Which also feels good.