Shameless Promotion

But not really self promotion.

Look what arrived in the mail today and is now for sale in my store!





Hee hee! I conned Mom into making some since she's better with the sewing machine than I am.

All proceeds of course will be going to her. I'm just the dealer.

Later this weekend: My adventures visting Dr. Mad Scientist's rehab clinic and February's K.A.Y.E. winner!

100% Less Dead Cat!

First the announcement of the winner of the first annual Ugly Couch Contest.

The winner of the Reader’s Choice is #4! Apparently people are willing to sacrifice aesthetics for comfort.

The winner of the random drawing is: #6.

I’ve emailed youse guys for your addresses. Be expecting some random meanderthings in your mailbox soon!

This is also a quick reminder that the end of February is upon us! Which means only a few more days to submit your entry for the February K.A.Y.E. drawing for a decadent skein of rich, red Jitterbug.

Ah, so what’s been going on betwixt the smashing of helpless creatures with my car and posting pictures of ugly couches?

Not too much. I haven’t been knitting as much. Which is good and bad.

Back before Dr. Mad Scientist went into rehab, we had a nice little T.V. routine where we’d veg out in front of El Tubé watching DVDs of TV shows for an hour and a half before bed. This made for great knitting.

Yeah not so much anymore. He goes to an AA meeting each night leaving me home alone. I can’t watch TV alone for some odd reason.

Instead, I’ve been reading.

I’ve yet to master reading and knitting at the same time without getting a sore neck.

I’ll go into what I’ve been reading later because I promised this would be an uplifting post today!

But here’s what I’ve been knitting.

The Hurl Yourself Off The Bridge New Jersey Winter/Go Spurs Go Sock:



Even for being a plain-jane sock, this is taking FORever to knit. I only knit it at lunch, which is probably why.

I love the way the gray sort of thickens in a spiral around the sock.

And then there’s my sister T.’s scraper mitt.



I wasn’t going to knit this because Mom was supposed to be sending T. an ice scraper for her birthday.

But she forgot.

So I picked one up at the Dollar Store and am knitting T. a little mitt to go with it.

T.’s not really a “pink” person, but it will match her car.

No she doesn’t drive a pink car. She drives a Taurus.

It's called the Pinkley Taurus*

Say it out loud a couple of times if you don’t get the joke at first. You’ll get it eventually. ETA: Put your mind in the gutter when you say it outloud.

I figure by springtime when her windshield is no longer freezing I’ll have this done. Ah well, her Pinkley Taurus will have it for next winter!


*I wish I could take credit for that--but I heard it on a radio show right around the time she was buying her car.

I did have a post...

...composed in my head earlier today.

But then on my way home today, I ran over someone's cat.

He/she came out of nowhere and before I had time to react...oh god, the sound and the feeling of your car doing that...oh god!

It took me a minute to process what the fuck I had done and by that time I was too far off. Even if I had stopped--it was a busy street--what could I have done?

Sigh.

But I think I'm just saying that to make myself feel better.

The thought actually crossed my mind "I hope it was a stray." Like that makes it any better really.

When a human gets run over do people think "I hope they were homeless!"? Ugh. No.

I just keep thinking about what that cat might have meant to someone.

Was there a little kid like Chunky that loved that cat?

Did that cat comfort someone going through a hard time like I know Squeaky and Springs have been doing for us right now?

The most ironic part?

When I pulled into Chunky's school today, I noticed and pointed out an earthworm that was inches in front of my front tire. How he got there, I don't know (the parking lot is asphalt--maybe a bird dropped him).

Chunky bent down and confirmed that the worm was still alive. He made me promise not to run it over.

And you know what? I actually threw my car in reverse and backed up a couple of inches so I could go around the worm when I pulled out after dropping Chunky off for the day.

Hours later, I'd be running over someone's beloved pet.

God.

Hug your kitties, puppies, snake, and spiders tight tonight for me. Tomorrow I promise happier topics.

Ugliest Couch

Alright peeps! It's time for the First Annual Ugly Couch Blog Contest.

Props to the Harlot of Yarn providing inspiration for the name of this contest with her weak blogging analogy.

These people were unafraid to invite us into their living rooms to look and judge their couches!

Here's the scoop--I'll number each picture(s) and in the comments let me know who you think has the ugliest couch. The person with the most votes wins some random meanderthings and the other winner will be randomly drawn.

Voting ends Wednesday, 2/27.

I'm not going to use names--because you know you'd all be voting for Barack's couch if I named his couch. You know you can't resist the way you think his cushions will make your butt feel. And even though no one's really sat on him, he just looks so full of comfy promise. I want to give the Hillary couches a fighting chance even though their not as articulate with your cheeks but mean just as well as Barack's couch.

(And yeah, that rule isn't 100% foolproof, I realize there's a way to figure out whose is whose...but I'm not going to give that away too.)

1.



I love this couch--but I can't help but wonder what one-legged person it squished? See the foot sticking out from underneath in the last picture?

2.

This is what we call the modest couch. What blemishes hide behind those beautiful quilts? I guess we have to throw it some beads, or maybe sit down and let the quarters from our pockets fall into her cushions before she flashes us.

3.

Wuhahahahahaha! Can I really add anything to this?

4.

Damn. I want this couch. Can you imagine how uncomfortable it would be for your husband to have to sleep on when he comes home to tell you he's been drinking at work and suspended without pay from his job?

5.

Now I actually think this couch is sexy. Check out that racy little slit up the side of the cushion--giving you a teasing look at her foam.

Hey, the slit works for Renee...why not a couch?


6.

Another sexy couch--with not so sexy pillows.

This reminds me of a hot middle aged man with classic good looks (just like black leather) but for some reason he feels the need to wear a really bad looking toupee despite the fact he'd be perfectly hot if he was just secure enough to go bald with grace.

7.

Number 7 decided to be a smartass and send me a picture of the place in her living room where her couch would be had she the money or the balls to commit to settling down and embracing the "adult" lifestyle of owning real honest to god. I kid because I kare.

8.

Why, this couch doesn't look so bad...what's wrong with this couch?


I do believe if a couch had an ass, this would be a picture of a couch mooning us. Check out that under the cushion crumby-linty goodness! Nice!

So there you go. Leave the number you like best in the comments. Winners will be announced later this week.

Vogue

My library stocks old issues of Vogue Knitting that they have hardbound. The issues go back to the late 90's when knitting was making a comeback.

I never used to really like Vogue Knitting until I started checking them out of the library for free.

Now I think if I had disposable income, I'd subscribe to Vogue over Interweave Knits. I like the fact that Vogue seems to have more book and yarn reviews, and they throw a few "easy" patterns in there for the not-so experienced knitter. Ok, sometimes those patterns are boxy and knit on size 100 needles out of uberchunky yarn, but once in a while there's something really pretty.

I've never seen IK do this. But then again I only had a year's subscription to IK--I opted not to renew when Eunny took over and the format changed slightly before that. So maybe along with their format change they changed the content too??

But anyway, I've never knit anything from Vogue until I last night.

I was inspired by a really ugly hat they had in there. It looks like a giant nipple on the model's head, but for a baby hat I thought it would be cute.

And thus was born my eighth Hat For Alex of the year.



Doesn't that thing look ridiculous on a grown person?



Yikes.

Into the box in the closet I keep for my Hats for Alex.



Picasso had a blue period, I suppose I can have one too.

Stay tuned! Ugly Couch Readers' Choice tomorrow!

Finally!

Snow!!



I swear, ice water runs in Chunky's veins. It's probably the Alaskan Pedigree and the Michigan birthplace working there. I haven't seen him this excited in a long time as he was when he woke up and saw that there was snow covering everything!

When he got home from school him and Dr. Mad Scientist went outside to make a snowman.



I stayed in. I was too tired.

I had an exhausting day of working for about half the attorneys that showed up today covering for the 90% of the secretarial staff that pussed out and didn't come in today.

We had a late delay to come in at 10:30 a.m. Apparently that translates out to "Don't bother showing up" to 90% of the secretarial staff.

Now I'd be a little less bitter if I didn't have just as far to drive as 80% of those 90% that didn't show. I will cut 10% some slack because they actually live in BFE Jersey where no one plows.

But you know when the Head Cheese Partner's personal driver makes it in (he lives in western New Jersey 70 miles from the office--his kids actually go to school in Pennsylvania) that you've got no excuse for calling out.

I hope their hot chocolate was watery and their afternoon naps were restless.

My favoritest part were the attorneys giving us three secretaries who bothered to come in attitude for not being able to drop the other 100 things we were doing to do their urgent stuff.

Why they didn't call their secretaries at home and ask why they weren't in?

But I do have to give my boss props, he was very nice in loaning me out today and going light on his assignments to me. He's usually quite territorial and doesn't share me easily with others.

Dear god, that makes me sound like a whore doesn't it? If only I made that much and didn't get as many papercuts!

Listen! Doo Wah Doo! Do You Wanna Know a Secret?

Warning, this starts out heavy but gets light at the end!

This week marks week three of Dr. MS’s rehab.

This is the half-way point in his six week “out-patient-intense-rehab” regimen. In three more weeks we’ll figure out if he has a job or not.

Normally I’m no good in limbo situations like this, so I’m surprised at how well I’m taking it. However, I think it could be because I’m getting past the initial anger and hatred and entering either a numb state. Or it could possibly be an “I don’t give a shit about what you do” state.

I have decided I won’t be participating in any Al Anon meetings.

There some things that bug me about Al Anon.

The first thing is the religious aspect of it (and yes, I know they claim not to be affiliated with one religion, but it’s really hard to relate to the majority going on and on about giving their cares up to God and how wonderful their lives are because of it when I don’t believe in their God. It’s kind of like Ravelry. I see the appeal of it to many people, but I just don’t “get” it myself.).

I won’t get any further into that on here. I’m not changing your mind about religion, and you won’t change my mind about my lack of religion in the textbook definition of that word.

The next issue I have is the anonymous aspect of it.

But that’s not really Al Anon’s fault.

I blame the stigma that mental illness has in our society. (I refrain from saying “alcoholism” because in my opinion, excessive drinking to the point where it is classified as alcoholism is a byproduct of mental illness.) I feel it drives people to go underground and create and participate in this support group subculture where people commiserate, lean on their God, walk through the 12 steps, and heal themselves. Yes, it's easier to open up to strangers, but there's still a "Fight Club" feel of secrecy to it all. At least to me.

I’m hoping by blogging and being frank about the shit that’s been going down at our Bezidence, I’m at least helping take a small bit of the stigma off of mental illness.

Finally, I’m not a team player. I hate groups. I’ve always hated groups.

Every time in school we’d get a group project, my stomach would turn. I’d much rather work on my own.

Now maybe this group hatred and self-isolation isn’t the best thing in the world and maybe it’s a byproduct of growing up with an alcoholic father, but as Al Anoners like to say “Take what you want and leave the rest.”

So I’ll leave them to their groups and 12 steps and blaze my own trail to figuring shit out. I’ve always been a DIYer. And this is no different.

And speaking of secrets and cloaks and daggers, I can finally tell you about something.

Some might remember the really big project I alluded to in December as taking up a lot of my time.

Well, here's a picture of what I was working on.


Don't they look like some kind of blinged up version of a medieval weapon?

That would be 50 mirror yarn balls for Chewy Spaghetti's Blue Plate Special Sock Yarn Club.

She commissioned me to make 50 of them as the little swaggy-do-dad she sent out with her first batch of sock yarn to the peeps who enrolled in her sock yarn club using her yarn.

Very cool yarn I gotta say. It took a lot of willpower not to knit up a little swatch to see what it would look like knitted!

Thanks Chewy for letting me be your swaggy-do-dad person!

And a big thanks to Turtlegirl for pimping one of the first balls I ever made on her blog--that's where Chewy saw them and contacted me.

Take That Moby!

Pie crusts and my sewing machine.

Those have been my two white whales that I've been unable to conquer.

But Monday, I flensed* one of those whales--the sewing machine!

Remember that cape I was commissioned to do for an ex-Michigan-coworker? The superhero cape for her daughter who just got engaged to a guy with a really cool last name that will make her full name seem really superhero-y when they get married?

I had all the fabric pre-shrunk, ironed, cut, pinned and ready to go. As I was cutting around my ghetto-riffic paper cape pattern (made of the front page sections of the Sunday newspaper taped together) I kept telling myself that even if the sewing machine started spinning around and shooting peagreen thread at me, I'd be able to easily hand sew this cape.

Then came the moment of truth. I pulled the machine out of the closet and wiped off the half inch of dust on it.

I checked the threading. It seemed to be OK. Mom had threaded it for me back in I believe 2003 when she came to visit us in Michigan. (It was always that g-damn bobbin that I could never get to function properly!)

I lifted the presser foot.

I raised the needle to the highest position.

I put the cape under the needle.

I removed the first few pins holding the cape and lining together.

I gingerly pressed on the footpedal with my foot...

...and....

IT WORKED!

I SEWED!!

Ok, so my sewn lines aren't the straightest. And the cape could benefit from a top stitching on the edges (I added that observation just for you Tactless Wonder--hee hee!), but I'm extremely proud of it.

Here's a picture of me modeling it:



I redacted her last name. This really sucks because I wish I could show you the unblemished cape--but I'm not about to blog about someone I've only met a handful of times by last name.

You also can't really "get" what those little gold things are either without seeing the finished cape (it's only half finished here) or knowing the recipient's soon-to-be-last-name.

I'm just so goddamned pleased with myself--it's the little things, you know?
It's even got a satin lining.



It was actually kind of creepy--when the end of a corner, I knew what to do--raise the presser foot, rotate the cape 90 degrees, lower the presser foot and continue on sewing. I guess all those years hanging out in Mom's cramped sewing room watching her sew paid off a bit.

Not too shabby for a home-ec dropout huh?

Now, if only I never have to change the bobbin, I'll be set!!!


*Anyone remember Blubber by Judy Blume? The word "flenser" is the only thing I remember about that book.

Weekend Wrap Up

But it's not fully over--I'm off today! For the first time since I want to say 1996 (when I was a senior in high school) I have President's Day off. Can I tell you how much I love my job???

So far it's been a great weekend.

On Saturday I made a recipe straight from the Cheapass Gourmet---falafel.

I had purchased a package of green onions/scallions for some chicken quesadillas earlier in the week and had half a package of them left (I can't wait til summer when I can just go pick one or two from the Pot Garden and leave the rest for later).

On MSN I saw a recipe for falafel that called to me. I noticed right off the bat it called for green onions. And I remembered I still had a bag of garbanzo beans leftover from the IRS fun in September.

On Friday night I soaked 1/2 a pound of garbanzo beans (50 cents for 1/2 a bag).



On Saturday afternoon, I went to work making my own pita bread. I've got a ways to go with it. It didn't suck as hard as my pie crust, but it wasn't as pocket-y as I would have hoped.

I chopped up my 1/2 bag of scallions (84 cents for half a bag),



And minced up a clove of garlic (we have garlic on hand all the time) and a red pepper (92 cents)



At this point I started cooking the garbanzos for about thirty minutes.

While I waited I prepped more of what goes into the falafel mixture.

The recipe called for 1/2 a cup of tortilla chips finely ground. It just so happened we had a bag of somewhat stale, bottom-of-the-bag-smashed chip bits--what a great way to use them up!



I also shredded 1/2 a cup of monterrey jack cheese--I got 10 ozs at the grocery store for $1.84, a real steal given milk prices these days.

When the beans were soft, I rough-mashed them. They weren't perfectly smooth--I left some chunks in there--and I added the chip dust, cheese, scallions, garlic, and pepper.



You also crack an egg in there to help bind it.

Then you form the falafel into balls (the recipe said patties, but those kept falling apart) and fry them up in a pan with a small amount of cooking oil. Don't go too heavy nor too light on the cooking oil. I went a little light--well more like my stove slopes, so I ended up cooking my falafel on one side of the pan where the oil pooled.

Cut open your pita, stuff in the falafel, and some lettuce and tomato (also things we always have on hand) and a little sour cream if you want, and enjoy.



There's no meat involved, but you won't miss it. These are so damn filling. And they make great leftovers too that taste even better the second day. You couldn't have bought falafel at a street vendor or restaurant for this cheap.

On Sunday I um, well I can't say "purchased" because certain someone pulled a sleight of hand at the cash register, February's K.A.Y.E. yarn.

It's sock yarn--which I would like to point out I haven't prized in a while--I've been good!

And it's totally a Valentine-y February color:



The picture doesn't do it justice but it's a skein of Colinette Jitterbug in a luscious semi-solid red color.

This red is intense! We're talking don't-toss-these-socks-in-the-wash-with-your-white-underpants-unless-you-want-pink-ones it's so intense! I'm not really a red lover, but this yarn is hard to not love.

If you haven't done so already--get those entries in!

And finally on Sunday, I updated the store.

Now I must take the Chunk to school and enjoy my Monday off! Woo!! Hooray for dead presidents!

Fan Mail & Paying It Back

I'll be honest, there's not been a ton of knitting going around here aside from the mystery rotten watermelon WIP and the Hurl Yourself Off the Bridge NJ/Go Spurs Go TX socks (which I need to post a picture of--I'm LOVING the way that color is knitting up).

I've been busy getting stuff ready to restock my Etsy store.

I've also been receiving an embarrassing amount of boxes in the mail. Y'all are nuts, and I mean that in the most endearing way.

Seriously the fact that someone's out there reading this typographic dribble of mine is just enough.

In and effort to pay it back a bit to everyone whose given us support of any kind--comments, reading, or anonymous and not so anonymous mailings--I'm having a contest.

What's the contest?

Inspired by The Yarn Harlot and her piss poor (in my opinion) analogy of blogging--it's the UGLIEST COUCH CONTEST!

Here's the rules:

Email me a picture of your couch no later than February 24, 2008 at 12:00 p.m. midnight EST. Send your email to rkbezzie @ gmail . com --take out the spaces there obviously!

There will be two ways to win: a random drawing and Reader's Choice of Ugliest Couch. I'll post all the entries after the 24th and allow you to vote on who you think has the ugliest couch.

I'll break the ice and post a picture of my couch.



Complete with Squeaky licking her butt! It's actually a futon. The guy selling it to us insisted we upgrade for $25 to a better mattress or it would get compacted and shitty looking. But um, aren't futons supposed to look like that? I wasn't about to spend an extra $25 on a mattress that would probably still end up looking compacted and shitty.

What will you win?

Maybe a cool knitter magnet...(or crocheter one, I don't want to exclude the crocheters!)



Or maybe a set of my new sheepy greeting cards...



Email those couches!!!

(I'll be stocking the store this weekend with new items if you are convinced you have no luck when it comes to random drawings and your couch is too damn pretty.)

Super Meanderific Postarooni

It's text heavy today peeps--buckle up, and take your knitalin so you can concentrate if you want to proceed.

I'm online today, when I should have been checking my boss's flight status to Orlando from Newark--the weather here has been rainy, which means planes can't fly.

Anyway, I click on a headline on MSN that reads: "15 Ways To Trim Your Budget."

I'm a sucker for these articles. 99% of them is stuff we already do--CFC lightbulbs, line dry the laundry (ok, just one load--the heavy stuff that never gets dried in the damn dryer anyway), clip coupons, blah, blah blah but sometimes they have one small idea I had never thought of before.

In the article they had a link to an MSN message board where thrift minded people pool their ideas.

I notice the moderator's name is DonnaF.

I click on her name to learn more about her. Lo and behold, her full name is Donna Freedman.

Mom, and T. will know this name, as this is the mother of a mutal friend of Dr. Mad Scientist's and mine.

We met at the movie theater we all worked at as kids. She officiated at our wedding (because we're not religous, we didn't want to pay anyone to do it, and in Alaska you can court-appoint anyone to marry you).

Maybe I'm easily amused but I find that the internet makes it a small world.

And color me jealous, the woman's like a Cheapass Guro for MSN. Man, I want that job! Ha ha!

She's got a blog here if you're interested.

Speaking of money. I am giving an anonymous shout out to the Valentine Bandit who sent me a Valentine's Day card in the mail. This person hails from the state that Homer Simpson dubbed "America's Wang." Unfortunately that's all that was revealed to me.

But because of this VD Bandito, K.A.Y.E. lives to see another three months.

Yeah I know I said I was discontinuing it--but consider my emotional state at the time--give a sister a manic episode!

So, if you've had your cooter rooted in January or February (I almost wrote "and" there--good god!), and have NOT previously emailed me your name and email, please do. You'll be eligible for this month's prize (courtesy of the VD Bandito--once I purchase the yarn, I'll post it) and for the end-of-the-year Grand Prize.

I'll be going onto The Place That Shall Not Be Named and posting about the contest there. I'm hoping that will drum up more than less than 10 entrants each month.

A private aside to the woman who emailed me on February 4 or 5th with her entry: Gmail ate your message before I could add you to my spreadsheet--won't you please email me again at rkbezzie @ gmail . com? I apologize, but see the above mentioned reference to my disturbed mental state those days.

Chunky's adopted Auntie and her feline minions (hm, or maybe it's the opposite there...) sent him a HUGE box of Valentine goodies today too.

Y'all have been so nice to us. I really do appreciate it. It's probably a good thing because honestly without your supportive words I'd probably be wanted for murder right about now and they would have found a certain Dr. Mad Scientist floating in the Passaic River--or wait, where did Tony Soprano dispose of his bodies? I'd like to think I'd do it traditional Jersey-style.

So have you made it this far?

Congrats--you get a picture. Jeeze, another WIP on Wednesday:

This is another RAKish thing I've been working on--I had planned it to be that way pre-husband unemployment and I refuse to put it on the backburner.

You last saw it when I was ranting about a certain blog post.

And yes, that's Noro. It's some Noro Mag popped my Noro cherry with. She said the colors drove her nuts. I can kind of see it. I just started ball number three of this particular color number and it's not really patterning the way I had hoped.

But no fear. It's not supposed to be perfect.

What is "it?" Yeah well for that you'll have to wait!

Update and 'Nip

I guess I should post and update on the shitty-emotional-home front.

Today marks the first week of Dr. MS’s rehab. He goes to rehab four days a week for about three hours a day. Basically he attends an hour of “lecture” on how to grasp and utilize the tools of recovery, etc. and then he goes to an AA meeting held at the rehab center (but not affiliated with the rehab center in accordance with the rules of AA as an organization).

Some days the lecture is a class on how not to have suicidal thoughts.

For the month that his health insurance is in place (until 2/29 as far as I know), it is costing me $33 a day in a copay to send him there.

Chunky, who was informed of daddy losing his job, inquired as to why daddy was still hopping on the train in the morning if he didn’t have a job. I had to tell Chunky that Daddy was basically fired for being a bad boy and needed to learn how to behave better at work and he was going to school to learn this. Behavior is a big discussion topic in his kindergarten class. He’s in a class full of punk-asses that have driven a teacher to quit.

Luckily, Chunky's not one of those punk-ass kids.



On the weekends and at night, Dr. Mad Scientist attends various AA meetings in the NJ area.

This completely fucked my idea of applying for a part time job since these meetings are basically any time of day or night. But hey, it’s all about him getting better right?

Myself, well, I’m hanging on.

I’m dealing with a lot of rage. That’s the part that frightens me the most.

I tried going to an Al Anon meeting, but when I got there I don’t think it was taking place anymore or the time was screwed up.

It’s a long story that I wrote out in bloggish form in longhand for my own version of therapy—it was a bit funny in hindsight, and I don't think I'll be trying to go to another one anytime soon.

I went more into it in my longhand writing. I don’t feel like reiterating it here.

I just feel like I’ve lost a leg and it was Dr. MS who cut it off. It will never grow back and I’m fucking pissed that anyone would ever dream of intentionally or unintentionally doing that to me.

He’s fucked my quality of life and now I’ve got to learn how to hobble along while he sorts out his problems and I’m supposed to sit here and support him while I’ve got my own issues no one is bending over backwards to help me out on. Narcissistic I know.

Someday I’ll have enough money to buy a prosthesis for the leg he cut off. But he’ll have to figure out how to buy the Sneaker of Trust. I’m not slipping on that shoe so easily ever again.

But onto happier things! I think this week is Random Act of Kindness week or something. Regardless it is Valentine's Day.

I was hoping to have these finished last week for Chinese New Year, but hey, a week late isn't too bad.



They're cat-toy fortune cookies. Felted and stuffed with 'nip. (I'm a little embarrassed by those stitches showing on the "fortunes" but I have to remember my target audience--is a cat going to care?)

They're made from some Paton's Classic Merino I dandelion dyed. The fortunes are some Pottery Barn ribbon I've been saving (don't worry The Man used to always buy me Christmas presents from the Pottery Barn--I wouldn't be caught dead in there.)

I just hope their nipalicious for the kitties they're going to.

February 10

Ex-New Jersinian (yeah I know that's the wrong way of saying it, I'm not from here, I don't care) Rebel was predicting that February 10 would be the day we'd get a buttload of snow dumped on us.

I woke up to sunny windy skies.

But by 4:00 p.m. things started to look up.



But alas, it was just a passing quickie snowstorm.

As I type this it's 8 degrees (but negative 9 with the wind chill). The snow and wind yesterday were a result of an arctic front moving through.

The heat has been off since last Friday--so I'm super psyched about that. We might cave and turn it on for a little tonight--we'll see.

I'm even wearing my Uncircumsized Ice Queen--as I forgot my scarf at work on Friday. D'oh!

Sewing

I've had a busy weekend running around buying things.

Buying things? But Bezzie, your husband is unemployed, what the hell are you thinking?

It's OK. The "things" I've been buying are fabric. (Oh and a box of Valentines for Chunky--but I scored those at the Dollar Store.)

Remember that coworker I made the little purple baby socks for?

Well she got the little purple baby socks and emailed me back to thank me for them--and with a proposition.

Her other daughter (the one who didn't just have a cute little baby) got engaged last weekend.

Her daughter's new last name-to-be is a really cool one and sounds very superhero-ish. So she asked me if I'd be willing to make her daughter a superhero cape.

Ha ha, how can I resist a crafty challenge like that?

Never mind that I think my sewing machine is possessed by Satan...

She of course will pay me for supplies and time. She's a good nut. She's the same one that commissioned me a few years ago to bake cookies for a Christmas cookie swap she was going to thus allowing me to be able to lamely call myself a "professional" baker. Ha ha!

I figured before I start the cape, I would try my hand at some smaller sewing.

Have you ever seen those cute little needlebooks people sell on Etsy? They're little "books" that have felt pages that you can stick your sewing needles in.

Some are really cute (and cost like $14) and some are pretty, um, for lack of a better word, primitive (and cost like $3).

I figured keeping track of my yarn, sewing, and embroidery needles is kind of a bitch and it would be easy to make my own needlebook.

I took some fabric I bought off Etsy (pre-job loss!) and some fleece I had leftover from Chunky's Halloween costume three years ago and I came up with this:


Closed view.


Open view.


Open side-view.

Pretty cute huh? I decided to make it snap shut as opposed to button closed (like many of the higher quality Etsy ones do) and to only have two "pages" (I don't have that many needles).

My little needlebook now resides in the red Harry and David (Merry Christmas Nikki!) basket I keep on the end "table" next to the couch that holds my scissors, measuring tape, and current TV WIP.

This One is For My Opposite Coast Name Twin

She'll know who she is. But she brought the current Harlot drama to light for me.

And you know me, how can I leave that alone?

Short story: Harlot knits some socks. She blogs about the socks. Two people say they think the socks are kinda ugly or "fugly." Torches and pitchforks are drawn by readers and the Harlot.

She asks in her follow up post to the "fugly sock" post: What do people hope they will happen by posting a comment like that? (i.e. dissenting with the herd).

Here's what bothers me.

The fact that more people DON'T speak their minds.

Two people said that her socks were kind of ugly. They didn't say that she was a shitty knitter and deserved to rot in hell. (Interestingly only ONE person was jumped on by the commenters--the person with the male name--not the person with the female name...but that's a whole 'nother kettle of goldfish crackers).

What did they expect to become of commenting like that?

Honestly? Probably nothing.

What did the people who wrote: "Your socks are great!" expect to become of commenting like that? Probably nothing.

When will we learn to embrace the dissenters? Ok, ok, I'll admit, sometimes those people have nothing good to say or they say what we're all thinking but are too polite to say it--but here's the deal:

THAT'S HUMANITY.

Alright, I'm probably missing the big picture.

But my point is that no one is cut from the same cloth and when you open your "house" up to a bajillion people like the Harlot does, don't expect everyone to behave at the party. Someone's going to slip and say your couch is ugly before they make it to the car home.

I feel really bad for her making it to nearly 40 years old and never having anyone "diss" her stuff to her face.

I wore some really bright and obnoxious socks to work yesterday and guess what--there was a person that told me she really didn't like them.

It didn't hurt my feelings because I like these obnoxious colored socks. However, now I'm thinking I should have given that girl a hug for speaking her mind. It means I'm not living in a bubble where everyone minds their p's and q's 100% of the time.

Now I'm not advocating that we all go out and start calling shit like we see it (Whale biologist!) regardless of anyone's feelings, but what do we hope to accomplish chastisizing the few that do once in a while speak their minds.

And if you've made it this far--I give you a sneak peek at some ugly knitting of my own--feel free to tell me it looks beautiful and disagree. I'm done with my pitchfork today.



The best part about anyone reading this? I KNOW if you think I'm wrong, you're going to tell me.

Apocolypse Ash Wednesday

I say this only because I'm showing you a WIP on WIP Wednesday.

What's the world coming to?

Anyway, the pressure is now off to complete that baby towel as it was for a coworker of Dr. Mad Scientist's that's having her baby the first week or so of March.

I'll finish it, but obviously she won't be getting it. But I'm sure someone else closeby will be squirting out a spawn and will need a baby gift.

With the pressure off to finish that I cast on some reflective knitting.



It's a pair of plain-jane stockinette (with a 1X1 ribbed cuff) socks.

The color is "Go Spurs Go!" dyed by one of my old SNB and HSC buds Amanda. Go check out all of her stuff here.

I won this in a blog contest she was having and I gotta say it's some damn nice yarn. Very soft. I can't wait to see how it wears.

It's reflective knitting because hey, it's mindless stockinette--a great time to let your mind wander.

It's also very reflective of my mood--gray and black.

And it's reflective of the weather!

A lady at work calls this "Hurl Yourself Off The Bridge" weather and says for a few months each winter it's always this depressing and gray in New Jersey. It's a shame we don't have at least a blanket of snow to spruce things up a bit.

Of course maybe it's not so bad--now that I'm no longer in San Antonio--how are those Spurs doing anyway??

Everything For a Reason

It's funny how everything happens for a reason.

Remember my fun naked adventures with the overflowing toilet?

Thank god that happened.

Because two weeks later when I was sick and had various fluids leaking out of me, I thanked my lucky stars that I knew that I couldn't use much of that crappy Charmin or else the toilet would back up.

I can't imagine going through a plumbing nightmare feeling like I did then.

And now I'm thinking thank god the IRS nailed us in September.

It was good practice for life now.

Funny how it all works out.

Seguing along--I want to thank all y'all who cheated and commented or emailed me the other day.

I wondered about who to give that virulent blog award to.

But I think I give it to y'all. Whether you have a blog or not.

Awwww....I know, sappy huh?

But its a new day and tomorrow's the first day of rehab for Dr. Mad Scientist.

He's finally told his mom (who in turn alerted his mass amount of siblings...) so that's a good sign.

A new day also means a fresh pair of socks.

Or baby socks already on their way to Michigan for a friend.

Rock Bottom

I debated on whether I should blog about this or not.

But I'm sick of this shit being hidden. I'm sick of it being a dirty fucking secret.

My husband is an alcoholic.

I thought things were getting better. Despite being kicked out of AA in Michigan--that's right folks, kicked out--he saw a shrink who helped him get his addiction in check.

But then we moved.

Story of our life huh?

And apparently Mr. PhD-eight-years-of-schooling can retain all that he was taught in his field, but can't remember the tools the shrink gave him for dealing with his addiction.

Here's the deal: When things go well--Dr. Mad Scientist likes to sabotage them.

He's the classic self-shitter.

And after a year of being in Jersey, things were going good.

We were getting out of credit card debt from the move, I had just gotten a raise at work, my car will be paid off in a few months. I was actually thinking we could start SAVING money again and stop living paycheck to paycheck.

And then he brought home the news on Friday.

He's been drinking at work.

He's been put on unpaid leave and goes into rehab, either outpatient or inpatient for either 30, 60 or 90 days...we'll find out on Monday.

He may or may NOT be taken back into the employ of Mt. Sinai.

I'm thinking NOT.

I can't describe to you how frustrated, pissed, scared shitless, and fucking stupid I feel right now.

I hate being the man in this relationship. I hate being the one who brings home the bacon. I hate being the one who has to always be the responsible one while he can't handle the trappings of adulthood and his own sense of self-hatred.

So that's it in a nutshell.

I'm suspending K.A.Y.E. for a while. I don't have the heart for it. I don't have the money for it. Thank god for that raise, because now if I cancel the Netflix, the cable, stop eating one meal a day, and never turn on the heat in the apartment again, I just might barely be able to eek by.

Where's the book deal now huh? Email me with any part-time job suggestions you might have for a nearly 30 year old woman with an associates degree in general studies, and eight years experience as a legal secretary.

I'm also disabling the comments. Your comments will just make me cry harder.

Winner

And the winner of January 2008's K.A.Y.E. is: Michelle!

Don't tell the bellyachers that there were only three contestants this month and it's doubtful the chances will ever be that good of winning again even with the new rules.

And I apologize to January's two non-winners. Now you won't be eligible until December's Grand Prize to win anything this year.

No, I'm not bitter about the bellyachers. Hee hee!

I just hate it when things are inconsistent.

Why?

Because I'm camel.

"Camel [yarn] has very little elasticity, and it doesn't felt easily.
The fiber also doesn't bleach easily, so you'll normally find it used in yarns whose color either masks or enhances the natural tan shade of the camel fiber." --The Knitter's Book of Yarn

Camels are frank and straightforward in their manner. You know what you want and while you're extremely polite and tactful, you have no difficulty being firm and definite. You are not very flexible or adaptable; you like things to be a certain way.

Or as my husband more succinctly puts it: I'm a stubborn control freak.

Go to Potter Craft to read their promo for The Knitter's Book of Yarn and to see what you are. I wouldn't have ordered the button had it not been so damn spot on.

Now I'm tempted to order some camel yarn.