March 27, 2013
as you know,
i give away almost everything i knit.
i try as much as possible to put random positive energy into the universe, since, as @p12tog points out, i’m often an* horribly elitist person, especially when it comes to knitting.
(though i might actually be ok with that)
and since i feel that brighting some random person’s day through the power of the internets is a good investment in my karma because god knows my ubiquitous sarcasm, sass, and bitchiness
require a bit of equilibrium, today’s post
is an attempt at a double dose of karmic balancing.
first, i’m going to give away this boneyard shawl**
(it’s been a bit overcast the past few days)
the yarn is a two-ply fingering-sport weight spun by me
from some into the whirled bfl top i got at rhinebeck back in 2011.
this shawl’s been a loooong time in the making,
what with having to sneak time to spin and knit it
in the 5 free minutes i have every day.
just look at that craftsmanship
ok so maybe i couldn’t get the best macro shot.
just trust me.
it’s very well knit.
i knit it on 7’s and blocked this shit out of it
so it has a great drape and just enough wooliness for you traditionalists.
and here’s where the second dose of good karma comes in-
i rarely ever endorse anything,
(mostly because my readership isn’t large enough to warrant them)
but in this instance, i feel compelled to make an exception.
the short story is a very dear friend of mine in chicago, joshua herrington, started a business called gallerista. i’ve never seen this much drive and passion out of this guy before, and i find i’m quite impressed with his work ethic. recently, he began an indigogo campaign to turn his online business into a brick and mortar enterprise. i decided to blog about it, not just because he’s my friend (because a lot of my friends have some pretty far-out enterprises), but because i believe in supporting both queer-owned business and the arts. neither one has it very easy this days, and since i have no money of my own, really,
i do what i can.
and this is what i can do:
give away my shawl to help him raise some money.
how to win in three easy steps:
1) go to gallerista’s indigogo page and make a donation. my suggested minimum donations is $30 (so that you all can join me at the super secret launch party!) but if you can’t afford 30 dollars, donations in lower denominations are totally fine.
2) share the campaign somehow (tip: there are tools right there on the gallerista indigogo page to help you do that.
3) leave a comment so the random number generator can pick a winner.
i realize we’ve all been flooded with kickstarters and the like.
maybe you don’t even give a shit about queer-owned business or the arts. but i’m pretty sure you do like you some knitting.
so why not spin the wheel?
it’s not every day i spin and knit a shawl!
if you don’t want the shawl
or just don’t feel like donating,
if you could at least tweet or facebook or rav it,
i’ll personally reward you with some karmic princess points.
and if you’re reading this blog,
i’m pretty sure you could use some.
*i even use “an” before h-words.
**can i just say i love this pattern. i may even knit another one.
March 14, 2013
i returned from spring break this week
where several chicago men propositioned me in various capacities.
being the lady that i am
i of course bedded
none of them.
my ego sufficiently inflated, i returned
and entered what can only be called the three days of hell,
all of it connected to the real job (as cauchy calls it).
phase one of a particular project is done
and my colleagues and i are moving into phase deux.
(if any of you want to take a look, feel free)
phase one nearly did us in,
and phase deux is fixing to finish the job.
any of you who have ever tried to combine
and literary analysis,
may have an inkling of our difficulties.*
as the harlot always says,
the universe seeks balance.
after three days of
setback after setback
bad news after bad news
i received a little gifty in the mail.
any of you who’ve followed my blog
will know how much i adore gifts.
you could have knocked me over with a feather
when i got to my office mailbox to find a package
from ms. hello yarn herself.
can you believe it?
for absolutely no reason at all,
i got a gifty when i most needed it.
home made jams and over 1200yds of yarn?
almost enough to make a believer outta ya, right?
after a month with no books in sight,
i explained the situation to kate
and she sent me two new ones at no charge.
they arrived without a hitch in about week.
what happened to the other two to delay them?
were they trapped in customs?
lost in that black hole with which we knitters are so familiar?
nothing so simple.
what had happened was, it was
missent to mother fucking australia?
how on earth did the british postal system of all people
missend my package to australia?
they literally sent it across the wrong ocean!
since i hardly need four copies of the book
i’m giving away the other two.
if you want to win one,
just share this post somehow,
(there should be a little ‘share’ button at the bottom)
and leave me a comment.
the random number generator will pick a winner.
stay tuned to see what i’m knitting.
*any experts in any of those areas who’d like to help, especially people conversant in arcgis 10.1, hit me up! lol
February 20, 2013
while i doubt it will be as good as project runway,
and can’t possibly hold a candle to rupaul’s drag race,
i must admit i find the concept to be rather intriguing.
what do we think?
will this be cool?
will it be boring?
should i blog along with snarky commentary?
December 31, 2012
i considered writing a profound end of the year post,
something characteristically witty and poignant.
then i realized i didn’t feel like it.
i’ll share a link to wordpress’ end of the year report on my blog
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.
and this music video
which is quite clearly the shit.
happy new year bitches!
December 11, 2012
hello everyone, from finals island!
while finals time is always hellish,
this is the first finals in. my. life.
where i am not panicked.
but that little voice that has been telling me for years to work ahead,
get things done, don’t put unnecessary stress on yourself,
a voice i have largely ignored for going on 28 years*,
finally got through, and for the first time
i won’t have to rush to finish.
now of course as soon as i hit that little blue publish button on this post,
i will have thoroughly jinxed myself and my computer will explode or
i’ll forget the english language or something.
i guess i better make this post count, then.
one of my favorite activities is imaging that i’ve won the lottery.
the following hour is taken up by a reverie of how i’d spend the cash.
it usually involves real estate and world travel,
with a dash of setting up my friends for life.
imaging the getting of things is my hobby.
i must admit, when i wrote my last post,
i never actually thought anyone would send me a gift.
i was merely indulging in one of my favorite pastimes,
(and thought it might make for a somewhat humorous post)
receiving starbucks cards in my inbox frankly shocked me.
and that shock has left me speechless ever since.
i went through many stages of reaction to the presents.
the first was simply the joyful exclamation of PRESENTS!
then my humility kicked in and i thought about how lucky i am that people think me cool enough to treat me to coffee,
the source of my existence.
then that pesky bit of catholicism that i can’t seem to get rid of made me feel ashamed for asking for gifts;
i couldn’t get the sound of my friend anna’s voice out of my head; her diatribe against annie modesitt’s greedy call for money reverberates in my mind.
(to be fair, she’s not alone in her contempt, but anna has a special way of putting things that just stays with one)
then i came to my fucking senses.
i wasn’t giving anyone a line. i didn’t say i was in desperate need of aid; i’m not haiti for christ’s sake. all i said was i like presents and as i get older i seem to get less of them and that it annoys the heck out of me that, during the holidays, people don’t just ask for what they want. i mean, people send glozell brita filters and tampax. if friends and strangers want to buy me a cup of coffee, i should just say thank you and smile, knowing there are nice people in the world.
(thank you fairy godmothers of coffee!)
so let’s continue, shall we, with
gifts for steven 2012
twice a year, i make my way to the douglas j to get a facial. when i lived in chicago and made entry-level cubical money for an evil multinational corporation, i had a beauty regimen that rivaled any aging actress afraid of being cast as a mother in her next film. i can still remember the glorious pain as the polish esthetician (we’ll call her olga for lack of an better memory) buffed my fingernails to the point where i could literally see my face reflected in them. (the first time that happened, i went around having other people look at themselves in my nails) in those days, i was 5 years younger and far more beautiful than i am today. today, when i make my pilgrimage to douglas j and lay down my credit card, i can look forward to the horrified look of the master esthetician as she sees what truly neglected pores look like. she does what she can and i’m frankly shocked with the results; i look smoother, younger, and pinker. with the fervency of a pulmonologist begging her patient to quit smoking, or a dentist praying his patient will finally floss regularly, she always warns me that these results are temporary, that i need to do something to take care of my face on a regular basis. still, for the next few days, i am beautiful again. i don’t even know if they do gift cards, but if they did, maybe i’d get to be pretty three times a year.
of course all of this might be moot because i’m going to protest at the capital today. i’ll be tweeting while i’m there. there’s going to be a heavy police presence, so i’m sure people are going to be arrested. i won’t be able to get a facial in jail, at least not the kind i’d need to pay for. so for day 8, just wish me and my friends a safe return (and that my union doesn’t become illegal in the next couple days). that feels apropos for the season, right?
here goes nothing!
*holy fuck i’m turing 28 in a week.
ps sending things to bloggers is a tricky business. when i wanted to get something to stephen a.k.a. hizknits i sent it to his then place of employment (blue moon). but then, i’m a particularly innovative stalker when i want to give someone a gift. to the lovely people who have asked for my address to send me gifts, i’m torn. i worry that giving internet strangers with candy my address will put mo at risk. he’s very portable and friendly and even the most ethical person wouldn’t think twice about stealing him. giving you my address is basically inviting you to purloin him.
i mean, which do really love more, presents or mo?
i’ll think it over.
December 6, 2012
i always credit the yarn harlot for getting me into knitting,
and i suppose she’s part of the reason i got into blogging.
though really i think the only similarities between our blogs
is that they’re both humorous (mostly) and center on knitting.
after that, we pretty much have nothing in common.
- the harlot is a
- oldest child
- mother of three
- in her forties
- and i’m a
- only child
- dog owner
- in his twenties
and yet somehow, despite all that difference,
i find her blog and life to be thoroughly compelling.
very rarely do i ever ‘not like’ what she writes.
one of the rare exceptions is her annual gifts for knitters.
i find the hole thing to be irritating,
not because the information she provides isn’t useful or accurate,
but because it is completely ridiculous that anyone should have to go to an outside source to find out what to get for a friend or loved one. you either know him or her well enough to get them what they want, or else you should be able to be a grown up and just ask. this whole need to ‘surprise’ someone with the perfect gift is, frankly, asinine and too much pressure. what people want is a gift they’ll enjoy. so why not ask them?
but more importantly,
no one seems inclined to buy me anything. maybe it’s because i’m a december baby (my birthday is exactly one week before christmas); i’m highly sensitive to gift giving at december time. it just seems like, if one doesn’t have a family of one’s own, after the age of 21,
no one is inclined to get one (me) a gift.
all of my friends are too new to my life
to feel inclined to get me anything.
they’re also grad students,
so they have no money.
and my parents,
my dear dear parents,
they get me things throughout the year that i need,
things like food,
or a new phone,
or my gas bill in the winter.
making them exempt from any familial obligation to get me a gift.
that just leaves mo, and frankly,
he can’t be bothered.
i’m an only child,
which means i have deeply ingrained belief
that i deserve a gift a christmastime.
no amount of rationalization
or lies about the joys of giving
or reflection on how much i have compared to others
will ever wipe away the feeling that i’m getting jipped at the holidays.
and so in the spirit of ‘the secret’
(which has inexplicably been working for me this year
even though i’ve never actually read the book)
i’ve decided to ask, believe, and receive some gifts i want.
nothing unreasonable or outrageous, mind you,
just some shit to make my life
a little brighter.
gifts for steven 2012
a starbucks card. perhaps you think that making this the gift for days 1 through 6 is a cop out, and i’m just doing it to catch up on the days of december. you would be wrong. the amount of time and more importantly money i spend at starbucks is obscene. i go every day, sometimes multiple times a day. i write at the starbucks on grand river, and i frequent the starbucks in my building at least five days a week. it’s eating a whole in my budget, and size orman specifically told me not to buy coffee in her book young fabulous and broke, but since i’m beyond addicted, it’s up to you to solve my willpower problem.
stay tuned as i tell you more things you can get me for this,
my birthday and christmas season.
(i also happily welcome channukah and solstice gifts)
i almost forgot the whole point of this post.
after less than one year in the pot,
not only is my christmas cactus thriving,
it’s fucking blooming, bitches!
this is the very first house plant i have every kept alive. ever.
while i grew up gardening in the country,
and can easily cultivate flora out of doors,
that skill has never translated indoors;
i’m absolute rubbish with potted plants.
but this, this christmas cactus,
one of my favorite plants,
it’s fucking blooming!
i’m telling you, bitches;
ask, believe, receive.
oprah wasn’t lying.
one of the best posts from one of my favorite bloggers,
and not just because i get several shout outs.
(though, that doesn’t hurt)
and keep your eyes on the prize page
because there’s going to be some amazing last minute additions, bitches!
Originally posted on completely cauchy.:
Re-Published: with fundraising giveaway info below
The thing with euphemism samplers is that they are unending: there are always more themes and there are always more euphemisms (or variations of euphemisms) that one could include. There is a sense of adventure in embarking on a new one just because playing with language is fun and it is fascinating to learn about new-to-me English usage. But sometimes the research to source the text can be stressful—I have seen things I wish I could un-see and I’ve read about some things I could safely have died not knowing existed. Gunshy is too mild to describe my state of mind after last week’s Really Redwork.
So I was quite grateful for an email last week from my buddy Steven. He said he sourced most of his list of vaginal terms from an episode of The L-Word. After playing with…
View original 264 more words
September 22, 2012
i have some sad news.
it’s been more than a month since i’ve knit a stitch.
all hope of a rhinebeck sweater went out the winder after my first week.
even my as yet unmentioned handspun shawl sits untouched.
my wheel is gathering dust,
my loom lays loosely warped on the table.
unforeseen additions to an already inhuman workload means i have absolutely no time to ‘write for myself’ let alone create any actual content for the blog. in my desperation, i even thought about how i could turn the gift of a bath bomb from lush into a post. but once i’d finally deluded myself into thinking i could spin it in such a way that you all would actually care, i found i didn’t even have the time to write the post.
and so i’ve finally come to admit something i’ve been trying to avoid:
the blog must go on an indefinite hiatus.
it’s not that you’ll never hear from my again on here. i hope i’ll be able to pop in every now and then, and i am going to rhinebeck, which i plan to document thoroughly. it just means i can no longer be a ‘blogger’ and must content myself with being ‘a person with a blog’.
i realize this means i’m going to lose most of my precious readership that i’ve spent three years building up, but i see no other option. if you want to make sure you’re aware of those rare times when i may be able to post this semester, make sure to sign up for email notifications for my posts.
i hope to return in earnest next semester;
i’m working hard now so there will be a lot less work then.
fingers crossed, eh?
so this isn’t goodbye,
it’s see you later, bitches!
August 23, 2012
i’m kind of sick.
i’m that kind of sick where spending the day in bed isn’t a choice.
i’m that kind of sick where my body feels the need to be entirely empty.
i’m that kind of sick where i hope mo will just pee on the floor so i won’t have to get out of bed to take him outside.
but for you, blog,
i’ll crawl all the way to the next room
to get my power cord out of my bag
to recall a happier time
just last sunday.
though i’ve been enjoy my summer hermitage,
i discovered lynae and adrienne,
dear friends of the knot hysteria variety,
were coming to my state for the michigan fiber festival.
lynae undertook quite a twitter campaign to ensure my presence.
and if she and drin could come from chicago,
i could make the trip from lansing.
though allegan seems to have held up better.
it felt like time passed a little bit slower there
and has been a lot kinder than in towns of my youth.
once i got over the initial uncanny nostalgia,
i felt right at home at a country fairgrounds
especially at a fiber festival.
the michigan fiber festival is what i’d call a diamond in the rough.
the fairgrounds are perfect for a really large festival,
something comparable in size to rhinebeck, honestly,
but it’s much, much smaller and lower key.
add that to the fact that i arrived at church time
and i got to enjoy the fairgrounds without the stress of the crowds.
perhaps that’s what’s reflected in these photos.
i didn’t feel the need to ‘just document everything’
and sort it all out later as i normally do.
instead, i took a more leisurely approach.
this is what i saw.
before i continue,
i have to preface this by saying most of these photos were illegally obtained. the man on the loud speaker announced that everything in the booths was proprietary and photography was forbidden. that little admonishment came right before the one telling parents not to let children maul the yarn with their sticky hands. (needless to say, being put in the same category as a child with chocolate-covered digits miffed me to no end) so this is just to warn you that, if you enjoy these photos, you may be aiding (and abetting?) in a crime after the fact. i just feel it’s my responsibility to warn you. and if any vendor sees a photo of her booth and takes issue with it, i’ll be happy to remove your free publicity.
briar rose definitely has one of the best booths, aesthetically.
it has a great mix of organization and planned carelessness
(read overflowing baskets of yarn here and there)
i’ve never had the chance to actually look at her stuff
since normally there’s a mob in the booth at rhinebeck.
overall i was drawn to her color aesthetic,
and she has some really nice bases,
but nothing needed to come home with me.
still, it wouldn’t have hurt to throw a ‘hello’ my way
as one of only two people in the booth at the time.
just sayin’. can’t hurt to be friendly.
(don’t worry. you weren’t alone. i wasn’t greeted at most of the booths)
then i saw this old familiar signthis bitch is at every festival.
i swear she must live for these shows. honestly, i loved that she was there. she’s like 10 feet tall and looks exactly like storybook spinner. i totally observe her every time i see her. she has this potent energy that just exudes ‘fiber festival’. someday, i’ll work up the courage to kinnear her, not just her sign. though part of me believes she’s a witch. i’m not sure camera’s will work on her. (her name’s even morgaine for christ’s sake! i’m just sayin’. don’t spill water on her, just in case)
then i yearned for boat shuttles.
the weaving goddess lisa kobeck told me using a boat shuttle will improve my selvedges, so i’ve been in the market for one for a bit.
(she also says buying a floor loom will help, but i need to be realistic)
i knew i wanted something handmade and fancy looking like these guys,
but they were just a bit too pricey for me.
i often forget my taste far exceeds my budget.
i think this display was part of the kessinich loom booth,
but i might be wrong.
miss babs is another one of those booths that’s generally mobbed
so it was nice to be able to take my time and really see her yarn.
again, i left without buying any yarn
(a testament to either my will or my poverty)
but did return for some fiber i just couldn’t pass up.
funny how the only thing i bought was from the place where someone actually said hi to me. it wasn’t the most enthusiastic welcome, but it was nice to have my presence acknowledged.
(these are presents so it doesn’t really count as buying anything right?)
there was this dress
about which i have no information because i was unprepared and had no notebook. i vaguely recall overhearing the pattern is forthcoming in knitty, but that could be total lies. i did give her my card so if she sees this, hopefully she’ll leave a comment and i’ll update the info.
(outtake: i even accidentally kinneared the dress. it needs to be seen!)
and these foxes
(zing!) i took their photo for my fiber festival friend in absentia, andrea,
who has ‘a thing’ for the farm boys at these fiber events.
thus far, she hasn’t gone home with one.
(that i know of)
but i’ve forgotten the best part!
a giant fucking rooster at the entrance!
i take this as a sign tina will one day come with me.
the chicken/rooster is, after all, her totem.
(we visited your yarn at the fold booth, tina!)
all in all a lovely day.
p.s. thanks for being my sugar momma, lynae,
when there was no atm to be found.
p.p.s while i began this post last night, at one point, i just couldn’t go on. i finished it this afternoon. i’m feeling better, but i’m still afraid to eat.
August 20, 2012
my dear friend, deb, over at first we read, then we write
nominated me for a liebster blog award.
as i read her post,
about how it wasn’t a real award
and how it was basically a chain letter
wrapped in an ‘i like your blog’ love note,
i prayed that, when i reached the bottom,
my name wouldn’t be on there.
of course it was the first.
i’ve spent three years building this blog from the ground up.
i don’t design, or sell anything, so all of my traffic
comes from people who like to read what i write.
how could i possibly taint the blog
with this drivel?!
then. . . . i got a grip
and decided there were two very good reasons to ‘accept’ the award:
1. the opening of deborah’s post echoed my own childhood too much to ignore the bizarre connection. whereas she dreaded getting a chain letter because she,
“didn’t have ten friends to pass a letter on to.”
“There is nothing more frightening than hocus-pocus to a girl than the embarrassment of not having ten friends to forward a chain letter on to.”
i was the exact opposite.
i prayed for a chain letter to arrive in the mail.
it’s presence would act as proof that i did, indeed, have friends.
life as an only child growing up in the country a solid 30 minutes from the closest of any of my classmates meant i didn’t really do the whole ‘sleepover birthday party play date’ thing. add to that the fact that i was, well, ‘different’, and i think i desired any affirmation that i was liked.
2. this may be the only blog award i will ever receive. i don’t know how people get nominated for those things, but i do see them occasionally on other blogs (usually ones i feel don’t deserve to be read let alone awarded). i also don’t know if people even care about that kind of thing. but just in case, i won’t turn down what might be the only ‘official’ validation that my blog is liked.
my liebster award post!
1. each person must post eleven things about themselves
2. answer the 11 questions the person giving the award has set for you
3. create eleven questions for the people you will be giving the award to
4. choose eleven people to award and send them a link to your post
5. go to their page and tell them
6. no tag backs
i tried to think of ways to make this more creative,
but i think the great thing about parameters is
you don’t really have to think.
so here goes.
eleven things about me:
i ripped off my style of cursive in the fifth grade from amanda niedszwiecki (sp?), which required switching from holding my pencil on my middle finger to my ring.
one of my biggest childhood traumas is when i was at a farm and was chasing a duckling because i wanted to hold it. i accidentally stepped on it. it did not die quickly. the image haunts me to this day.
when i was about three or four, this boy (paul?) and i used to make a pillow fort and make out. when we got caught i was interrogated. i cried.
i’ve been romantically attracted to exactly one female in my life. her name was sally.
i kinda want to have a kid of my own one day (i think), but doubt it will ever happen.
my (friendly) prejudice against continental knitters makes me think of the doctor seuss story, the sneetches.
aging is one of my greatest fears.
mo’s official akc name is henri’s molière the antimisanthrope.
i bruise easily, and my skin takes color like you wouldn’t believe.
i remember that, as a child, i hated how adults would never listen to me or take anything i had to say seriously. i was determined that, when i was an adult, i would treat children with the respect they deserve. as an adult, i can’t stand children.
i often blog in the nude.
answers to deb’s eleven questions:
Who? – miss scarlet
What? – murdered mr. boddy
When? – last night
Where? – in the hall
How? – using yvette the call girl to do her dirty work (candlestick)
Why? – to protect her business of ‘secrets’
And your favourite word is? – cooooooock! (inside joke)
And your favourite sentence is? – ‘it is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife’
Do sheeps shrink in the rain? – nope!
If a taxi goes backwards, does the driver owe you money? – when you enter a taxi, you give up any and all freedoms. you can only pray he’ll let you leave his domain alive and unharmed.
Really? – really.
my eleven questions to the bloggers i will soon nominate:
how was your first sexual experience?
what is your greatest prejudice?
who’s your favorite knitting blogger that isn’t me?
what is the achievement about which you are most proud?
what is your biggest grammatical pet peeve?
what is your most prized possession?
do you enjoy lying?
do prefer men, women, or other?
what is your drink of choice?
what is the best place in the world?
do you think, like i do, that continental knitters are like the sneetches without stars?
my nominations (in no particular order):]
makes the things
the daily purl
the yarn harlot
blue moon blog
yarn over matter
un joyeux foullis
i’m going to skip the last couple rules.
i’ve frankly done enough work already on this post.
besides, i doubt i would be able to get them all to ‘accept’.
but it would be cool if a couple of them played along.
it wasn’t so bad.