Tonight, I did something that I haven't done in ages. I watched NBC. Since they moved Leno into primetime, I haven't. 30 Rock and I have a standing date on Hulu on Friday mornings. 9 pm used to belong to NBC on my tv, but the shows that used to air at 9 are on at 8 now. There are other things that I watch at 8. This week, however, there are mysterious baseball games pre-empting Glee and other excellent shows. So I decided to give my old friend another chance and caught an episode of Law and Order SVU. I reached for the remote promptly at 8:59 to change the channel. NBC, we are broken up. I might still check up on you online, but it would take something pretty special to get me back. I'll act like we're reconciling for the Olympics, but I'll go back to the good time gals of cable right after the closing ceremonies. Try to look surprised when it happens.


I tried on the February Lady Sweater after some serious power knitting and discovered that it looks like shit on my breasts. I love the pattern and it wasn't too small, exactly, it just looked weird in the chest. This was disappointing, since I've been looking forward to wearing it. Instead, I've decided to give it to my grandmother who is less buxom. She has the same size shoulders as I do, so it will fit her well. After the holidays, I'll make another one for myself. Not identical, though, because that would be strange.

Speaking of holidays, I went to my aunt's birthday party last week. It was like a Pinter play with Chinese food. A lot of Chinese food; they had it waiting in a big, heavy box when we went to pick it up. The sassy owner asked us how many people we'd ordered for and my aunt answered truthfully. After we got out to the car, I told her we should have told her it was just for us to see the look on her face.

My mother was feeling rather generous on Sunday and gave me four skeins of Malabrigo Worsted. I thought that it was enough to make a February Lady Sweater of my own, but I was mistaken. Instead, I am busily knitting it into a Wicked pullover. The yarn is a rich chianti color, so the sweater may get a lot of wear during the holidays, provided I finish it in time. I'm feeling optimistic, since I'm spending a lot of time streaming video from Netflix these days. My latest addiction is Dexter. There's really no way to describe the show that does it justice. Let's just say that it's highly excellent and leave it at that.

Last night, I spent an hour or two reading my Grandmother's diaries from the year before and the year that I was born. It was an interesting read. I'd found her old date books, in which she'd made comments about the day's events, but hadn't realized that she used to be an actual diarist. I learned a lot of little things, like that the photographer was a no-show at my parents' wedding. I'd assumed that the pictures were lost or destroyed. Also, Grandma misspelled my name on the day that I was born, which made me laugh. I doubt my dad spelled it out for her when he called from the hospital, but she had it correct the next day. It was really wonderful to see how excited she was about my birth and how much she loved me from the beginning. It also made me miss her terribly. Hell, I'm crying now, just writing about it. She was my favorite person in the world.

On a cheerier note, my favorite band released a new album today. Apparently, they were interviewed about it on NPR recently, but I didn't hear it. Surprising, since I listen to NPR most of the time. I was pleasantly surprised when I saw the album in the new releases on the iTunes home page. If you don't listen to Pink Martini, you should. They're incredibly live. Look at that album cover art; what a lovely homage to the jazz albums of the fifties and early sixties. The album is more reflective than their previous ones, but perfect for a rainy autumn afternoon.


Knit Faster

That's what I keep telling myself, because it is sweater weather. In other years, I have been happy to see my beloved sweaters back in rotation, but not this year. I do not like feeling cold. I have taken to wearing undershirts like a little kid again. And it's not just me. Winston is feeling the cold as well. His winter coat came in a couple months ago (which has me a little concerned about the severity of the upcoming winter), and now it is puffed up a little. He sleeps in a ball, instead of his usual sprawl. It occurred to me that he may not actually gain weight in the winter, but might only appear bigger by puffing up his coat to trap heat in its layers. Once it really gets cold, he'll stand over the heat ducts like a Victorian match seller, which gives the place a distinct eau du chat.

The other day, I noticed that my car smelled funky. Funky is an understatement. It stunk. I hadn't driven it in several days, and the smell nearly knocked me over. Fortunately, nothing died in there. A month or so ago, I had a mildew/mold incident and apparently hadn't eradicated it. That black carpeting fooled me. When I went to clean it, I discovered a colony of mustard yellow mold that looked like it was ready to hold free elections. WTF? The mildew incident didn't even happen where the mold had bloomed. Well, Oxiclean to the rescue. Today, I went to the do it yourself carwash and shampooed and vacuumed it out. Now the car smells like carpet shampoo, but I'm not complaining. I also took the contents of my glitter Virgin Mary coin bank, minus quarters, to the Coinstar today. It was a day for boring errands. It did net me a $7 gift certificate to iTunes, so not all bad.

I am currently knitting a February Lady Sweater, which was a succes fou on Ravelry last year. It is a garter yoked top down sweater with a lace body. The lace pattern is fairly mindless, so I don't have to devote a lot of attention to it. Perfect. I just need to knit faster. I really should be working on my Christmas knitting, but I'm not very motivated in that direction. I don't really feel like making anything for anybody right now. Not out of hatefulness, but a real lack of interest in putting that much effort into projects for other people. I want to knit lots of cozy, warm sweaters for ME. I've scaled back the list a little, to make it more attainable. Not fewer people, but smaller projects, but it's still a long list.



I love a good medley.


You may be aware that I have had some difficulties lately. My grandfather had a very strong sense of right and wrong; I was raised to do the right thing and expect the same of others. Clearly, that was a naive view of the world. That expectation has lately caused me much disappointment and pain. Beneath my cynical exterior lives a sensitive person.

Though it may seem extreme, I have decided to have no further contact with those dishonorable people. Otherwise, scenes might arise unpleasant to more than myself.

I hope to return to my regular content soon. I've buried myself in knitting lately: even knitting monogamously for the first time in years. Dancers have their barre when times are hard and I have my needles.


I've had a couple of really hard days in the past week. I'm tired of it. Hear that universe? I could use a really good day sometime soon. Today, though, my mom told me that she was proud of me for standing up for myself. She's never done that before, and I'm thirty. Maybe she's never seen it, or maybe this is part of my new refusal to take shit from anyone, but it felt good. Not taking shit from anyone? Well, that's a struggle these days, but what isn't. I wish I could tell you more, but that would be indiscreet.

Yesterday, my mom and I had hair appointments together. I drove and took a couple of unfortunate wrong turns (even though I have been there many times before), which stressed me out. They only hold appointments for five minutes on Saturdays, so I pretty much blew it with the misdirection. When we arrived, they said they'd make an exception, had me fill out the paperwork, and wait. And wait. And wait. I figured that I would have to wait a while, since I'd come in late. Then I began to feel like Eeyore, sure that I'd been forgotten, but afraid to push my luck by complaining. Except they had forgotten me and I should have complained after fifteen minutes instead of forty-five. I meekly asked if it would be better to reschedule and they were quite surprised. I'd been lost in the shuffle. Even though I was really looking forward to getting a haircut, I wasn't too pissed. I'd shot my bolt already freaking out about being late. Instead, I am getting a free haircut on Tuesday! All for the best. I would like something like Sienna Miller's youthful graduated bob (Jude Law, married men, and questionable reputation not included). This is several inches shorter than my current badly grown out, round layered bob. I'm tired of the Carol Brady long layer in the back and would really love a low maintenance 'do. I recently brushed my hair with a carding comb when I couldn't find my hairbrush, to give you an idea of how important coiffure is to me. This isn't too mumsy, is it? Picture it in red, with a pair of cats eye glasses.

Random observations:

* The Radiohead station on Pandora plays a lot of Coldplay and Keane. I like both of those bands, but they're a little too easy listening when I want to get a good sulk on.
* One of my college roommates and I spent an entire afternoon conversing in Radiohead lyrics.
* I am such a fiber addict that I can smell yarn through a package. Well, hand-dyed yarns, because they tend to reek of mordant. That's how you know they're fresh.
* Spiders in the bathroom freak me out, and I can't call Woody Allen to come kill them. When I was in college, I thought living in New York would be like Annie Hall and that I would go to all of the events that I read about in the New Yorker. I was sadly mistaken.
* The credits music on The West Wing is awful. How did I never notice that before having a WW marathon with my mom? Also, Alan Alda's crinkly eyed smile still makes me swoon a little. Who would have thought that crow's feet could be so appealing? I attribute this to watching a lot of MASH.
* I really hope Joan remains a regular on Mad Men. She's like a dash of paprika.

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