Archive for September, 2006


Wednesday, September 6th, 2006

1) 12, 14, 16, and 18 do not exist in the knitter’s brain. I discovered this while doing needle inventory. Those needle sizes do not exist, but it suddenly struck me that my numeric chart does not even consider them in relation to needles. Kinda scary, huh? It goes like this….

0000, 000, 00, 0, 1, 1.5, 2, 2.5, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10.5 (*note, that there are actually three different mm. sizes that count as 10.5), 11, 13, 15, 17, 19, 35, 36.

2) This one is sort of creepy, in a way. Can you imagine how weird it would be to start working somewhere, and find that one of the employees went to elementary school with your child? Well, I am that child. I went to elementary school with the child of one of my coworkers.  (I knew about this one before, but I hadn’t put myself in her place. Wow.)

3) I am a sleevecap goddess. ’nuff said.

4) As I was about to close up at work, on a relatively warm and extremely sunny day, there was a sudden, long, ominous roll of thunder. pit-a-pat-a-pit-a-pat-a-pat-a-pat-a-PATPATPATPATPATPATPATPATPAT!!!!! The sky dissolved. Completely. Still sunny as ever. I was planning on waiting it out, but it wasn’t worth it. I ran to my car, soaking my birkenstocks, and jumped in. The drive home got darker and darker. I have a new appreciation for flood victims. Everywhere where there was a low spot in the road? Lake. The streets were rivers. It was beautiful! Of course, I get to the turn before my street and everything is bright and cheerful again. Back to normal! The rain was letting up, the sun was back, and the familiar old drain pipe above the pedals in the car cheerfully detached and dumped a whole pile of freezing cold water onto my feet every time I turned right.


Tuesday, September 5th, 2006

Take that, jacket-lady!*


I finished the blue-green-pink socks last night, with the exception of the second heel.  All the ends are woven in and everything…however something is stalling me.  The time has not been wasted though!

Moom‘s shawl is now approximately 43.4% done.  It should still be farther along, but the rows are getting long. ;D   Also, Amanda and I have identical orange koigu (different dye lots though, and mine is *bright*), and we’re going to make matching socks.  I don’t know whether to “aaw” or to *gag*.  =D

There is this sandwich that I may have mentioned before, from the Produce Station on State street, that is ridiculously good and if you are in the area you have to go have it NOW.  It has turkey cheddar and apple slices on cinnamon raisin bread, and they give you honey mustard to go with it.  It sounds a slight bit strange, but you’ve got to trust me.  It’s worth the $6, and it’s a fair amount of food.

Anyway, I stopped at the Produce Station to get one this morning and found this.

Oh, my, goodness, gracious.  I love both things on their own anyway.  Crystallized ginger is delicious, and chocolate isn’t really chocolate unless it’s dark.  (Don’t argue with me, or I’ll force-feed it to you.  *Gives a scary glare*). But putting them together?  Someone out there is a true genius, and they work for…er..”Chocolove”.  *dances*…

So, as I’m already being extremely scattered, I thought I’d add that I have a partial sweater over my shoulders, and that I look ridiculous.  The fronts and backs are joined, as is the right sleevecap. However, the second sleeve is not attached, neither side seam is sewn, and the single sleeve is flapping open. Oh, yeah, and I haven’t done the buttonband yet. You may laugh now.

Time to go read and knit.  I’m going to go for 47% of the shawl before I sleep.  Wish me luck!

*This comment will not be explained.  Just call it a matter of personal triumph and ignore it from there.


Monday, September 4th, 2006

Nothing important to say today…just a few snippets of the past few days.

–I have earrings that remind me of frogs. I’ll post a picture. They look nothing like frogs.

–The Produce Station is a fabulous, fabulous place, and their sandwich that has turkey, cheddar, and apple slices on cinnamon raisin bread is amazing. Trust me, it is worth the $6. (Every once in a while, that is, when you’re feeling rich…)

–Amanda and I got the bright idea to pull out my ENTIRE STASH (or whatever i could find on short notice) and look through it… Worst idea ever. Do not EVER get it into your head that knowing exactly how much yarn you have (and what yarn it is…) is a good idea. Just do me a favor and don’t even consider it. I am so stressed right now.

–Moom’s shawl is 36.0% done. I should have more done by now, but you know how it is.

–Second sock is nearly done. Photos tomorrow, perhaps?

–Wuthering Heights? It’s good. Amazingly well planned out and executed. However, it’s got nothing on Pride and Prejudice. (My favorite book ;D ). It’s one of those classics that you’ve got to read, but I don’t know that I’ll ever go back to it. Also, I wish she had put a wee bit more emphasis on the persistence of Catherine and Heathcliff’s characters, rather than the idea of “eternal love”. Sure, it is possible to focus on one person and never move on, but like I said, persistence. It takes particular character traits, I’m sure, and an unwillingness rather than an inability to let go of a situation. Particularly because they were what, all of twenty at the time? (End rant.) Despite all that, well done Emily Brontë.

–Oh. My. God. Scandalous!! Who out there (come on, tell the truth) knew that koigu is a superwash?!?!! I am positively floored. I have this strange feeling that I can’t quite put my finger on, that I’ve been lied to for a good long time. So what made me think it was untreated. Hmm..let’s see…maybe because everyone else in the knitting world made the same assumption I did, that it’s not superwash? The “hand wash only” label? The absolute lack of documentation *anywhere* that would give the slightest suspicion that things could be any other way?? And now, two days after I hear the “rumor” that it is “really a superwash”, I see on a blog that they just came out with an untreated, feltable versio. Excuse me, I have to go practice breathing exercises until the world rights itself around me.

Attention all old men:

Sunday, September 3rd, 2006

Please do not waste your time advising me on how best to obtain a husband while your wife shops for yarn. Do not try to tell me that I am going to be unhappy no matter what I do, so I may as well marry a rich man. Do not try to tell me your happy-ending fairy tale of a marriage, fifty years after the fact.

Do not assume that young people are stupid.

*WARNING. RANT AHEAD. If you disagree with me or feel offended by anything I say, please consider yourself to be warned as of now. I would be happy to hear your opinion if it is expressed respectfully. I publicly reserve the right to say whatever I choose, and it is not my slightest intention to offend, unsettle, or otherwise assault anyone’s comfort or beliefs. These are mine, offered for the taking but not enforced. If you don’t like it, tough cookies. Go find a better waste of your time!*

What if I choose not to get married? What if I think it’s okay for men to be women’s studies majors? (You did not need to inform me that “all men study women”, I was already well aware of that fact thank you.) I resent your comments?

I did not “become a feminist” because of the awesome women’s history course I took last year. I took the really awesome women’t history course because I was already a feminist who knew and cared about people’s rights, and wanted to know more.

(Notice that I said people, not simply women. The beauty of feminism is, despite that the name only encompasses women, that it is based on a general idea of equality. At the very bottom of it all, the idea is that sex (and gender for that matter) should never be a determining factor regarding what rights a person is allowed.

Not just women, people.

Once more, the category of “women” spans every race, every culture, every age, name a category. That means that this basic idea of equality reaches out to everyone, not just everyone who is white or young or old or middle-aged or whatever.)

If you ever dare to think that I took a women’s studies course and suddenly became “enlightened”, “self-actualized”, “feminist” (however you choose to look at the word), or basically to insult my intelligence by assuming that I would simply take a class and blindly accept whatever I am told without weighing it against experience, previous knowledge, varying opinions, my instincts and gut reactions, and the valid arguments of all those around me, you had better be screaming at me through a megaphone from the top of a very very tall mountain in a blizzard in the middle of the night where I can’t reach you.

(Feminists do not hate men. There are many “radical feminist” ideas that I do not agree with, or in fact consider to fall under the category of feminism at all. e.g. I do not think it is a “feminist belief” that men and women cannot be equal until babies are born externally from our bodies, so that we can physically live our lives “more equally” to men. To me, the feminist counter-argument would be that women’s and men’s bodies need to be accepted for what they are and what they do, and appreciated. It’s childbirth. It’s been happening for far longer than you’ve been alive. Get over it. Also, that people can make their own decisions about their bodies, but not decide for others what is wrong or right.)

How did I survive this man? I was polite, as I had to be under the circumstances. But don’t think I didn’t make my point…

I told him that just because I am young does not mean that I am stupid.

I told him that my life was not inevitably condemned to the verdict of “marriage”.

I told him that I don’t think I should even be *considering* the idea of marriage at the oh-so-advanced (*insert hysterical, low-pitched laughter here*) age of nineteen.

I told him that just because higher knowledge of “controversial issues” (such as the women’s movement) is not offered until college (and sometimes there you have to look for it) does not mean I did not know it existed before that.

Sure, he was trying to be funny. That’s fine. I have no problem with an older man joking about life, and pushing the issues he grew up with. However, if he refuses to appreciate that I have the right to disagree and insists on devaluing my intelligence*, he can go straight to where the sun don’t shine. I most definitely have a problem with that.

I advise him not to advise young women about marriage. (I could not say that).

I also advise his lovely wife, who made it all okay by telling me to ignore him, to divorce him. (Not seriously, you understand, but as a counterpoint to his arguments. If he can tell me how to marry, I can tell his wife to divorce him. I rate those about equally…I could not say that either. =D )

*I do not rate my intelligence one smidgeon above anyone else. That is not what I am saying. I simply demand that people listen to what I say, rather than how my words vary from their own, and that they do not prejudge me based on age or a single comment that they disagree with. First of all, different people possess different kinds of intelligence. You can be a brilliant, brilliant writer and suck at math. You can possess the capabilities to knit the world’s most complex this-or-that and have the worst people skills of anyone who ever existed. Etc… Second of all, intelligence is not knowledge. Knowledge measures how much information you possess. Intelligence measures *how you use* the knowledge you possess. Take a minute and consider my definition…