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June 13, 2005

Take a picture, it'll last longer


Saturday, June 11
6:35 a.m. Wake up to Frankie meowing on my chest. This is either the "Pet me, I'm lonely" meow or the "Feed me, so so hungry" meow. Neither of which are appreciated at the butt crack of dawn on a Saturday.

6:37 a.m. Contemplate selling all four cats on eBay.

7:10 a.m. Wonder what I was smoking when I thought it would be a great idea to rent a tiller and dig up the back yard for a garden. Wonder where on earth to find a tiller in Los Angeles. Must have coffee to fully understand error of ways.

8:07 a.m. Decide Tomorrow Is Another Day, and probably a better day for the Great Tiller Adventure.

8:09 a.m. Remember I have to go to Post Office. Then, sadly, remember payday is not for three more days. Must conserve all necessary resources until payday.

8:22 a.m. Wonder if I can accept sugar daddy applications online.

8:48 a.m. Remember that I am going to Ellen's Saturday knitting group at the Farmer's Market and feel completely freed of all other obligations, because Knitting Comes First.

Pictures (click for big):

Ellen in her amazing Serafina shawl, which is so pretty and perfectly matched her outfit:


You would not believe it until you saw it, but yes, Ellen crocheted a set of headrest covers for her car!! I call them seat cozies because I think everything knitted or crocheted is essentially a cozy. Don't you? A hat is a head cozy. A shrug is a shoulder cozy. A tank top is a boob cozy. Socks are foot cozies. You get the picture. And I about died with love when I saw these headrest cozies:


After Saturday SNB, Jennifer and I went to Target for the essentials (which in my world seems to be cat litter because OH WITH THE POOPING. You have never seen cats poop so much. In fact, they poop more than I feed them, like somehow they are manufacturing poop in their little furry behinds and if I could find a way to power a vehicle with cat poop, I'd be the richest woman alive and never need a sugar daddy. No sir.)

At Target, we have to wander up and down every aisle in order (which means start at the front of the store and walk all the way around the perimeter, then do the middle) because if not, I feel like I am missing Target and I complain, loudly, that we are MISSING all the TARGET and the GOODNESS. This is how my mind works. Like I managed to conquer my spastic synapses and sensory overload tendencies by applying a grid to the Target. But it works! I never miss the good stuff!

We found the summertime essentials aisle and spent a fair twenty minutes debating which kind of pool I should buy for the party* and Jennifer was kind enough to try them out for quality control purposes only:


I did not purchase a pool (see "payday" above) but I'm also not sure I need a mosquito-breeding habitat in the backyard, what with our West Nile issue and all. Ya'll know how I am with Nature. Nature wants to kill me -- I don't want to add fuel to the fire.

*The Party Footnote
I am actually throwing myself a birthday party, which is BIZARRE since I hate to draw attention to my birthday and never celebrate it, not really. Because birthdays stress me out. But you know. New year. New me. No husband to wake me up and say Happy Birthday. You have to make your own happiness in this world, I think, instead of waiting for someone to bring it to you. Plant your own garden. (Well, unless you're me and are immobilized by the thought of renting a tiller.) (But, really, plant your own garden. The metaphorical kind.) Also: longest freaking footnote ever. Love Mondays!

Finally, The Hat. (Again.)

My current hat obsession has led to several key insights.

1) I have gauge issues
2) I cannot count
3) When talking, do not attempt to also do decrease rows

Laina's perfectly nice scarf which morphed into a hat (thank you, OCD!) was coming along just fine until I realized I had once again created a very, very large mushroom. This is not because I am a bad knitter, as I previously suspected. This is in fact because I am brain dead at The Math and cannot even count. Therefore, my gauge (which I usually "guestimate") is always wrong. You can see why I also have issues with the cooking.

Yet, not all is lost. I plan to fix this hat by adding a fluffy off-white faux-fur-ish lining. I'm thinking I'll just knit another hat and seam them together. Right now, Laina is thinking, THANK GOD I MOVED TO BOSTON where I don't have to see CRAZY OLD PURL and wear her crazy FUNKIFIED HAT. And you thought moving to Boston would be just for grad school. Here it's saved you embarrassment and ridicule. But you know I expect a picture of you in this hat!


Giant Godzilla hat prepares to eat tiny Los Angeles.

Posted by laurie at June 13, 2005 10:21 AM