Tuesday, April 3, 2007

Picky Knitter, Sticks are for KIBs

2 Days to Harlot

After careful perusal of my financial sitch (not to be confused with "stitch," though I often do), I find my thriftiness** of the last couple of months has paid off (pun!) and I have more money than I thought. How do we celebrate "extra" money? Make a large contribution to the IRA!

Haha! Just kidding! We indulge our knitting problem and our book problem and become our own best enabler!

Besides the trips to B&N and Showers of Flowers yesterday, I came home to find BOTH my packages from Knit Picks had arrived yesterday. I'm assuming the post office has a policy that they save up packages until they have enough to fill the box before delivery.

This is what it all looks like:

From top left corner (clockwise): a bit of my purple couch, Vogue Very Easy Knits, Lace Style, Kertzer Butterfly in black and blue to make the Diagonale purse from knitty.com, Knitting Design, Knit Picks Shadow in Jewels Heather** to make the Eunny Jang Print O' the Wave stole, Domiknitrix, Knit Picks Gloss in Cocoa to make the Stitch Diva Bellocq stockings, Martin Dresser: Tale of an American Dreamer by Steve Millhauser** (the next Book Club book -- let's see if I can hang on to this one), two size one Addi circs, Knit 'n' Style, and peeking out middle-ish is the Diagonale purse picture and pattern.

First, I'd like you to notice how cool that pseudo-wrapped text is. I'm not a complete Luddite, but the html/blogcode continuum is still a bit of a mystery to me and I'm very proud every time I solve a tiny little piece of it. [NOTE: Once it got to the blog, it didn't wrap anymore. I'm still proud I discovered the possibility.]

[SUMMARY: Dork? Check. Book problem? Check. Knitting problem? Check.]

I got the Addis because I originally got Crystal Palace bamboo needles for the Sparkle Socks, but I hate them. The bamboo itself is nice -- all bambooey, as it should be -- but the join... well, it's that put-my-head-through-a-wall thing. I was taking more time sliding my stitches back and forth than it was taking to actually knit a row. And I was in danger of shredding my stitches clean off with every round. So no more Crystal Palace bamboo.

I got the Domiknitrix because... do I really need to tell you why I got the Domiknitrix? No, no, I really don't. What I need to do is ASK y'all why nobody ever told me there was a Domiknitrix. And a blog. A Domiknitrix blog. I visited, and I have a love/hate relationship with it right off the bat.

Love the concept. Love the book. Love the skull. Love the look.

BUT... there are Domiknitrix tshirts for sale and y'all know I NEED one. Not want. Need.

Hate the fact that all the coolest tshirts (i.e. - all but one) only come in junior sizes, and according to the size chart, the bust measurement on an XL junior is TWENTY-FIVE inches. Either that's a typo or these shirts are only suitable for the Kate Moss heroin-chic crowd. When the Kate Moss heroin-chic crowd were 12. You know, before they developed.

[NOTE: Dear gods of fashion and all that is holy... I lied. The 25" measurement is the LENGTH of the shirt. The bust measurement is NINETEEN inches. That has to be a typo. Tallest, Hairiest nephew's chest is bigger than 19" and he's a six-year-old BOY, for fuck's sake.]

I petitioned the Domiknitrix for real shirts for real people. I really want the blue one, but I'd like to use it for more than an iPod cozy.

OK, back to Marin's world.

Have y'all noticed I have a lot of things in the works and nothing finished? Yeah, me too. I was wandering around Showers of Flowers yesterday and realised there is enough on my plate that I'm not even that turned on by the prospect of new yarn. I think I'm more turned on by that hot tamale, Jason... oops. Did I say that out loud? What I meant was I'm more turned on by the prospect of knitting some of these fabulous projects than new yarn.

Could someone please feel my forehead?

[SUMMARY: Still a little bitchy as always, but losing interest in yarn? A sign of the apocalypse?]

As you may have gathered, last night was an important basketball night. Big picture, I mean. In my realm, college basketball died in November with Duke's suckitude, but really crashed and burned when both Kansas and NC went out in the Elite Eight, crushing my brackets into useless spitwads.**

Non sequitur? Not really. While I really am dying to get to the Print O' the Wave and the Bellocqs (and even the Stupid Blanket, now my most constant friend) and have the yarn to do it, I didn't think either was suitable for knitting in bars (a/k/a KIB), and bars are where I like to watch my sports when I'm on my own with them. The sports, I mean.

So I went to Other Favourite Bar, 'cause it's more a sports bar than Favourite Bar, parked myself at a table, ordered supper and started in on the Sparkle Socks. The waitress said, "I think Christopher's mentioned you. Is he trying to get you to bring your Stitch 'n' Bitch group in here?"

"Yep. That's me."

Turns out I was talking to Christopher's wife, Nikki (I have no idea if I'm spelling that right. It's all the Motley Crue I absorbed in the 80s). I think it's very cool to be recognised by people who have never met me. I think it's very cool that Christopher mentions me at home.** Making an impact for something other than wildebeesticide is a good thing.

[SUMMARY: KIP, bold and cool. KIB, even cooler.]

A big yee-ha to Florida. I don't have much love for Florida sports in general, but it's historical for a school to win both back-to-back basketball championships and a football AND basketball championship in one year. Witnessing history is also a good thing.

[SUMMARY: Go Florida. Take California with you.]

Tonight? Drinks with Megan-from-work, cast on the Bellocqs, maybe cast on the Print O' the Wave, commune with Stupid Blanket.

Tomorrow? Client-sponsored goof-off at Coors Field. My current biggest client is taking me to the Rockies' game. That would be 1:00 in the afternoon. That would be RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WORK DAY. The company's buying lunch, we're sitting right behind home plate and they're paying me for the whole day. Let me repeat: I'm being PAID to go to the BALLPARK and sit in the BEST SEATS IN THE HOUSE. And FED. I'm begin FED. And probably DRINKED a little, too.

[SUMMARY: You want my schedule.]

I've waited my whole working life for this moment. I'll take pictures.

**FOOTNOTE (asterisked): I know you wonder how I can call thrifty when I've been barring half the nights of my life, but my pathological overtipping really pays off in free shots and bartender-sponsored rounds of drinks at a time like this. Besides, what do you think happy hour is for?

**FOOTNOTE (asterisked): I know it's not THE Heathers, but it's Heathers, right? "People will look at the ashes of Westerburg and say, 'Now there's a school that self-destructed, not because society didn't care, but because the school was society.' Now that's deep."

**FOOTNOTE (asterisked): By the way, if you go to B&N and you can't find the Book Club book and they look on the computer and see there are several copies, be sure to check under "Martin Dressler," even though that's the title and not the author, since that's where all seven copies at the downtown Denver B&N were. I note the CSR who dug it up for me did NOT move them to reflect Steven Millhauser as the actual author.

**FOOTNOTE (asterisked): You don't make spitwads from your cracked brackets? What on earth do you do with them, then?

**FOOTNOTE (asterisked): Pretending here Christopher mentions me at home *without* using words like "freak," "psycho" or "scary."

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