I Have a Dream

TTHFCIF†

I have an awesome dream: French cuffs.‡


{DC Comics}


For women.


{212 Metalworks via CuffLinks.com}


For me.

[SUMMARY: In the end, it's all about me.]


{Tateossian}%


Wildly fashionable§ and widely available.¶


{Tracey Mayer}


I've always trod a fine line between resenting and envying that most men in my corporate sphere can look crisp and businesslike on a wardrobe of a half-dozen ties,# four or five pairs of nice slacks and a half-dozen clean-tailored†† shirts.‡‡

And one pair of shoes, if they're careful of their colours.§§

[SUMMARY: It would seem I don't have enough to worry about.]


{Apparently discontinued from Thompson London, but available at CuffLinks.com }


I would SO wear a crisp, starched¶¶ shirt every day if I could wear cufflinks.##

*************

Rose 31 - Le Labo (edp)

Marin says: There's barely a bud of a rose at first blush, what with all the incense floating around.

Second blush is wood and cinnamon and clove with a hint of something dirty@ -- like cumin? Or like an indole? It's not enough to do more than hint at the unwashed, but just enough to keep the cinnamon and clove thing from being too hot apple cider.†††

Hours later, it settled into my skin like a good musk will, with a breath of rose left. Throughout its lifespan, it was never strident -- I could never smell it unless I laid nose to wrist. But it was always there.

I'm really impressed with the musk, since musk is often soapy and usually shows up right at the end in an otherwise lovely perfume, putting a Tide-scented damper on delicious-smelling day. But this is a warm skin smell I've read about from perfume enthusiasts with more depth than mine and I'm glad to make its acquaintance.

Le Labo says: Roses for men! The perfume's aim is clear; to transform the famous Grasse Rose, a symbol of voluptuousness and unualified femininity in perfume, into an assertively virile fragrance for men...

The result is a model of its kind: alternating feminine/masculine with the disturbing ambiguity of the Centrifolia roe, quickly picked up by a chorus of warm, spicy and woodsy notes such as cumin, olbanum, cedar and a touch of amber...

In the background, the declaried sensuality of Gaiac wod and cistus highlighted by a distinctly physicla animal note, give this perfume a disconcerting sense of mystery.

NOTES: Rose absolute,$ rose essence,$ cumin,$ olibanum,$ cedar wood, cistus, gaiac wood, musk,$ oud wood, vetiver.‡‡‡

Hans says: Hans is in Manhattan Beach, California this morning. Since he's surfing and heckling Chelsea Handler§§§ while I'm keeping the industry afloat, he doesn't get a say in this one.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): It's been a LONG time since I thanked the Holy Fucking Cats for Friday. I'm torn: is it idolatry or having other gods, therefore a cardinal sin (or two), to give thanks to the Cats? But then, things have spiraled downward since the last time I thanked the Cats, so I worry that I've angered them and will experience continous black cat-worthy bad luck if I don't.

And you thought being a saint-in-training was easy.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): I had a French cuff shirt once. Accidentally. It came complete with buttons connected by a stem that approximated cuff links. Not the same thing.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Pearly pink pig balls, anyone?

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): And I can live without fashionable.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): I'm talking Old Navy available. Target available. First person who tells me I can probably Google "french cuffs women" and find an Argentinian tailor to make me some is banned for life.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): And don't tell me about the evils of neckties. I've worn neckties. When I worked for a backward company that insisted women wear skirts and pantyhose and no open-toed shoes ever, but men could wear jeans on Friday provided they wear a necktie, I wore a necktie so I could wear jeans too. Like a protest. Neckties just aren't that bad.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Why do you suppose it's "colour" and "humour," but not "tailour"?

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): And their drycleaning costs way less too! They could probably get away with even less items of clothing.

§§FOOTNOTE (when I shake my head, that's what my hair does): "Rich, you are NOT leaving the house dressed like that."

"Why not? What's wrong?"

"Because people know we're dating and I feel the yellow shirt, brown- and blue- striped tie, charcoal slacks, brown belt, black shoes and navy socks will reflect poorly on me."

True story.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (standing straight): Oh, how I love the smell and feel of a starched shirt. I just need an excuse, people. Come on. The economy is dire -- catering to the consumer with impulse issues wouldn't be your worst plan of attack.

##FOOTNOTE (ooooh... pound signs could make cool cuff links): It could be my signature look. Like a tuxedo on Diane Keating or sequins on Cher.

@FOOTNOTE (atted): I do appreciate a hint of something dirty.

†††FOOTNOTE (cocktail picks!): Nothing wrong with hot apple cider, mind you, but it's not a particularly *sophisticated* scent. And y'all know I'm nothing if not sophisticated. Just look at my taste in cuff links.

$FOOTNOTE (on the money!): Yes, I'm giving myself credit for rose. Call me mistress of the obvious. Then again, I'm kinda sad I didn't find any cedar, since it's one of my absolute favourites... and vetiver, since I feel like I've had a very thorough education in vetiver now and can confidently pick it out of a crowd. I shoulda knocked wood before I even THOUGHT that.

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (parade route): It's like a parade of scents I don't really know. Like they said, "Hmmm... rose, cumin... and a bunch of shit Marin couldn't pick out of a lineup if her life depended on it." Oh, hey -- it really *is* all about me.

§§§FOOTNOTE (a wicked twiddling of my handlebar moustache): Hans has a sordid past that includes having a very short degrees-of-separation from Chelsea Handler. Some day I'll tell you the story.

OK, OK

You caught me.




I'm actually a spork-wielding pig-licker.

With wings.

I Am a Bad-Ass†

Now go make your own. I have oil to sell.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): A bad-ass with shorter legs.

Est. c. 2007

Oh, hey look... I've been doing this for two years.

Yay, me.

Lent: Day 1

Forewent† Diet Pepsi at lunch.

When nice little Japanese lady at Tokyo Express said, "So good see you 'gain. Have special treat for special customer,"‡ and handed me a ramekin of candied walnuts,§ I smiled, thanked her and schlepped it back to the office, where I handed it off to Hans. Hans made inordinately appreciative yummy noises.

Joanne pointed out that I had chicken and, as it was Ash Wednesday, I wasn't supposed to be eating meat. I pointed out I'm not actually Catholic.

[SUMMARY: In which I publish my dorkitude.]

Passed up wine at Annie's.

Passed up amaretto/almond cheesecake at Annie's -- the kind that Hector says she didn't make for him until after they were married, but if she had made it while they were dating, he would have proposed to her on the spot. All book club attendees made inordinately appreciative yummy noises.

[SUMMARY: Sainthood is no primrose path.]


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I started every sentence with "I had to..." then thought the better of it. But "...had to forego" is an easier construct than trying to figure out the past of "forego." It's residual, small-scale martyrdom.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): For the record, the three people in line who ordered while I was waiting for my lunch did NOT get candied walnuts. I really am special.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): When Tallest, Hairiest Nephew was pretty young and just starting to parrot what we said, I made him a treat from my childhood: pie crust cookies. I used a tiny duck cookie cutter to cut tiny duck shapes out of extra pie crust, then sprinkled them with cinnamon and sugar and baked them. When they were done (and tiny ducks hardly take any time at all to bake), I put them in a ramekin and presented it to him as a ramekin full of ducks. We taught him to say, "ramekin full of ducks." That was one of the best days ever. And it beats all hell out of having to give up a ramekin full of candied walnuts.

Heck

Philip José Farmer died this morning.

No more Riverworld, no more Kilgore Trout.

Oh, the Felinity

We tipped an entire bag of kitty treats on the floor during the morning treat-a-thon. A frenzy ensued. There was barfing.

Further updates as the situation warrants.

I Can Hear You Laughing

You Are a Turtleneck Sweater

You are sophisticated, streetwise, and even a little cynical. You are quite cultured, and you don't fall for gimmicks or trends easily. You are naturally chic. You have a urban, cosmopolitan style. And you know that the secret to looking good is not trying too hard!

What Kind of Sweater Are You?

I saw this on some nice blogger's blog, but I don't remember whose. Please don't be offended. At least I didn't arbitrarily and capriciously name you Stacey.

Wouldn't it be funny if I originally saw this on Stacey's blog?

This Just In

HP uses more footnotes than I do.

Any Idiot Can Have a Blog

I'm living proof.

Remember how I told you Secret Pal's name was Stacey? Or perhaps Stacy?

I got the oddest little note† from her saying, "Well, I'm truly mystified! My name is not Stacey. Why do you think it is? I gotta know."

So I promised her I would look at the note again and figure out where I got it.

*ahem*

Now, I squinted and turned my head 90 degrees to the left and I could see where I came up with "Stacy,"‡ but when I re-read it, it clearly says, "Stay Rickety."§

I told Hans yesterday I remembered her name as Stacey Rickets or something like that.¶

O

M

G

Shoot me now. I'm a danger to myself and others.

I'm once again reminded of how very lucky my clients are to have my sharp, insightful brain dedicated to their company's well-being and future growth.

Now I must go divest.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Possibly far less odd than me randomly assigning her a new name.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): But clearly not "Stacey," though I was so sure of that last week.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): She also used footnotes in a really cute and funny way, which made me laugh and took my mind off my impending downward spiral into madness.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): I am sure someday we'll look back on this and laugh. Not today.

Do NOT Look at This Post

You were warned. I have done my saintly duty.


{Bella's womb in felt via Cinematical}


Stupid sparkly vampires are apparently *breeding*.

*shudder*

And some fibre-monkey actually took the time to FELT this monstrosity. I weep for the craft. Sometimes, I think, "Because I can," is not an adequate excuse.

Says the girl knitting three pairs of socks at once.

Proper Use of a Crochet Hook

From Athens... I keep wanting to link this to Kim, but wrong Athens.

Knitta's Paradise

Miscellaneous knit shipments you need to know about.†

[SUMMARY: Late-breaking news.]

Yarn from Knit! on Etsy:





Extravagance Sock Yarn in Sapphire.
*63% Superwash Merino, 20% Silk, 15% Nylon, 2% Silver
*Fingering Weight
*415 Yards
*Machine Wash/Tumble Dry Low
*7-8 stitches/inch on US 1-3 needles

It's superwash and it's sparkly and it's named after a rock.‡ What more could you ask for?

The last shipment of the first round§ of the Black Bunny Yarn Club:





Black Bunny 100% Silk in Brown Tourmaline.
*DK Weight
*260 Yards
*I wouldn't put this in the washer and dryer unless I was making a hilarious YouTube video.

It's silk and it's glowy and it's named after a rock.

[SUMMARY: Shiny!]

And from Bob and Nancy%:





Finally! My Addi Clicks that I ordered in October, the second I heard there would be such a thing.

[SUMMARY: Early adoption is its own punishment.]

I'm going to review them, along with a bargain set of needles, next week. For now, let's just look at the pretty pictures.

For those who are wondering, I did have the very pointed,¶ very conscious# thought that perhaps I should stop buying knitting stuff and actually knit something with the stuff I have.

But what if I'm the only thing shoring up whole sectors of the economy?††

FRACAS UPDATE: I washed my face last night. I showered this morning. My left wrist still smells like modern-day Fracas. The right wrist was nothing but a misty, watercolour mem'ry of white flowers by the time I got home from work last night.

The good thing about the left wrist: perfumes that last a long time are good.

The bad thing about the left wrist: perfumes that won't go away after you wash them with soap and water‡‡ are liable to overstay their welcome. Good thing I like it.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): If you don't know, how can you want?

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Rocks friends.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): I've won my bracket, however, and am moving on to Round Two.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): If you Google "Bob and Nancy addi," the third through fifth things that pop up are a daredevil archery duo named Bob and Nancy. You can buy a DVD of their death-defying act.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Knitting needles... pointed... I crack me up.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Conscious thoughts help validate all the unconscious ones.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Yarn, books, perfume, cable TiVi, chocolate, cell phones, fine dining, ice cream...

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Twice!

nonononononononononono

{via Yatzer}

The web is expanding, the noose is tightening... the geek is smothering the chic.

Of Interest

{Yves St Laurent exhibit at the de Young Museum via NY Times/The Moment}

This is a hand-knit wedding gown from the mind of Yves St. Laurent, Fall/Winter 1965.

Revelation!

Poor Secret Pal. Her package wasn't even late or missing and she got caught up in the package madness. So here it is, at least a week later and she's finally getting the credit due her.

It doesn't mean I'm any less grateful, just that camera thing. And the chronology thing.

[SUMMARY: Sophie's Choice for Dummies.]

Secret Pal's name is Stacey.^ She didn't tell me which blog is hers,† but I'll be sure to let you know as soon as I do.

So let's dig in and see what I've got, shall we?

Yarn, of course. Sock yarn, purple yarn, sometimes at the same time:






There's enough of the Endless Summer for at least a tank or a shell -- eight balls.‡

[SUMMARY: A good excuse for a trip to Ravelry.]

This, I don't know. I'm thinking this is pet yarn.§






It's handspun by Stacey herself and I could look at it for hours, just watching the colours and the soft halo.

And petting it.

[SUMMARY: Things are apparently a little quiet at Chez Barfly.]

This, I kinda wanted to eat. Almost did. Had to check the label several times to be sure I couldn't.




See? It totally looks like chocolate. Trust me, it smells like chocolate too -- not the slightest soapy smell to the stuff.¶

[SUMMARY: In which I taste soap. *ahem*]

Allow me to make girl noises for a moment.#

*SQUEEEEE!*




It†† goes perfectly with my calaveras project bags Sylvia made me for my birthday last year.

[SUMMARY: Skulls!]

And, well, there was a little tub of lavender hand cream that I thought I got a picture of‡‡ but I don't see here, and a half-dozen perfumes from the Velvet Moon Bathery§§ that I know I didn't get a picture of because I took them straight to the office so I could play with them.

Suffice to say they have skulls and black ribbons on them and come in scents like "Raven Moon" and "Belladonna."

My gothy little soul is replete with shiny¶¶ blackness.

Thank you so much, Stacey! When you come up for air, let me know where your blog is.

Now I must to werk. These properties won't divest themselves.

[SUMMARY: Promise to miss me.]

XOXO
M

*************

Fracas (original EDT) and Fracas (current incarnation EDT) - Robert Piguet

Marin says%: This is an exercise in compare and contrast. I purposely ordered## both the original and the current Fracas to see what the difference is. And, frankly, if I could even tell a difference.@

Starting with Fracas in general, it's certainly primarily tuberose. With both the original and the current versions, the first blast is TUBEROSE. It only takes a moment, however, for the original and the current version to go their separate ways.

In my limited ability, it seems all the notes are as promised in each, just in different concentrations or perhaps different chemical versions.+

The original softened quickly into a less tuberose-dominant††† melange of white flowers, with a stronger beat of visceral, meaty smell of jasmine. The musk floated up and was noticable.

The current Fracas kept the tuberose front and centre and in the spotlight, but left the musk somewhere backstage straightening the curtains.‡‡‡

After an hour or so, the original had settled very close to my skin, only the musk escaping to flavour the air in my office. Snuffling my wrist, I found a pleasant, rounded§§§ tuberosey thing side-by-side with a soft, sandalwood-orange thing.

By then, the vetiver and the tuberose were having a loud argument on my left wrist, with the jasmine lending something dirty to the fray. And maybe, maybe just an occasional glimpse of an orange.

Maybe that's what the others were fighting over -- the last section of orange.

All whimsy and poetry aside, I'm delighted I could tell a difference between them. I mistakenly told Hans I thought the original Fracas was an early eighties scent -- I think I associate the big, brash part of tuberose with the eighties. Turns out it was introduced in 1948. Knowing all I know, I would say the 1948 version speaks to a softer era. The 2008 version is more rock 'n' roll, with the salty metal of vetiver~ being so prominent and the whole thing staying so loud.

But the flash and tang of tuberose says that the women who wore it in 1948 may have been a good suburban housewife or a well-behaved denizen of the typing pool, but she might have taken a dose of or Malcolm McLaren if it'd been offered to her.

Hans says: The left one is definitely more floral and the right is more... Body Shop. So I'm going to go with the right is more new age.

More floral [flapping one hand], Body Shop [flapping the other].¶¶¶

Robert Piguet says: Tuberose, seductive and lush, combines with Jasmine, Jonquil, Gardenia, Lily of the Valley and White Iris in a lavish profusion of fragile white flowers. A whisper of orange with a base of Sandalwood, Vetiver, and Musk.


^FOOTNOTE (careted): Or possibly Stacy. I forgot to bring the card with me and now I'm even more of a dork than usual.

†FOOTNOTE (crossed): *hint hint*

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Join me in a moment of twelve, won't you?

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Though I really want to see how it knits up. How dopey would it be to knit a big swatch, frog it, then continue to pet the yarn?

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): It really should have a warning label like they put on the silica gel in electronics packaging that says, "This is NOT candy. Do NOT eat this." For, y'know... um... children.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): If you make girl noises over skulls, it's totally punk. Not at all My Little Pony.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): It comes from the Artsy Athina Etsy shop.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): It looks like a little, purple hat box, if that helps.

§§FOOTNOTE (a tangled web): Which I like to think of as Bathory.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (goth clubs... hehehe): "Shiny" is so un-goth.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): It looks like Marin likes to hear herself talk. A lot.

##FOOTNOTE (pounding of his hideous heart! wait... that was Tuesday): Because what kind of scatterbrain would *accidentally* order two of the same thing? Which I didn't. This time.

@FOOTNOTE (atted): I was terrified I wouldn't. Then what kind of review would this be? A much less wordy review, that's what.

+FOOTNOTE (plussed): As per our little perfume education session a couple of weeks ago when I nearly reviewed one of the Fracases (Fracasi?) on its own.

†††FOOTNOTE (whip whip whip): Can't you just see the little tuberose in a PVC corset and stiletto heels wielding a tiny, tuberose-sized whip?

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (to keep me on track): A very important supporting role, as I can attest from my first year of high school theatre. At least that's what they kept telling me.

§§§FOOTNOTE (ribbony... like this): Because tuberose is not round. No, no, no. Tuberose is like lightning, with spikes and flashes and ribbons -- not sharp, mind you, but definitely not round.

~FOOTNOTE (tilded. I don't think I've ever used a tilde before): And we're back to whimsy.

¶¶¶FOOTNOTE (past present and future): He was disappointed he didn't get them right, but to his credit, he didn't get to smell the rock 'n' roll dry-down.

If You Have to Try This Hard

{via Selectism}

The product probably isn't all that good.

"collector's bottle and speaker"... Oh, my aching ear.

***IMPORTANT GLITTER UPDATE***

*ahem*

It has come to my attention that I forgot to mention the make and model of the sequins and beads.

This was in no way an attempt at witless protection for The Yarn. I have not† gone so far afield that I think you can steal my yarn through the Innernets.

The sequin and bead yarn is Artyarns Beaded Silk and Sequins.

Carry on. Nothing further to see here.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Yet.

Geek vs. Chic

Once again, two worlds collide, both here:


{Evening Arwen Etsy shop via Gizmodo}


and here:


{Chop Shop via Gizmodo}


You decide the winner. Geek or chic?

Glitter of a Different Kind

Not the David Bowie kind... not even the Mariah Carey kind.†

This is the hallowed, soft, silky, gleaming glitter in the eyes of a knitter who has reached knitterly nirvana and delights in the envy of friends and family; thrower, picker and normal person alike.

[SUMMARY: Happy sigh.]

And sequins. It may have something to do with sequins.^

When I wrung all the photos out of the camera Sunday, I was trying to figure out which order to do all this in -- alphabetical? potential impact? number of photos?%

I opted for "order in which it was received."‡

So welcome to day two, the second missing package. This one might have been addressed to Blanche du Bois, a product, a it was, of the kindness of a stranger. Well, not stranger in the "unknown" sense, a friend to be sure, but a stranger to knitting.§

Isn't it remarkable what a fresh eye can bring to the stash?¶

Fabulous Yarns knows packaging is important:




And they do carry fabulous stuff.

[SUMMARY: Duh.]

This is Artyarns Cashmere 5. It's kinda hard to tell, but there's maybe a little more brown in this than the picture lets on.




Ah... there's the brown.




Cashmere, cashmere, soft as angels' wings packed in spring clouds. And I learned something very interesting about this particular cashmere: despite the fact that it looks like laceweight, it's actually wound as five unplied strands to make up a worsted weight.#

Thus:




[SUMMARY: I think we've all learned something here today.]

This one makes me dream at night. And troll Ravelry for hours.†† And guard it jealously when I show it off at Drunken Knitting and never turn my back on it because, y'know, knitters always have tote bags and plenty of pockets to hide a prized skein of yarn.‡‡




Look closer -- you'll see why this particular yarn drove me to new heights of photographic creativity.§§




My neighbours think I'm insane.¶¶

I don't care. I have The Yarn.##


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Sorry, Nathan. I know how you love your Mariah Carey Glitter references.

^FOOTNOTE (careted): Sequins AND beads.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Best? Favourite? Prettiest? Best pictures? It was like Sophie's Choice until I came up with the very pedestrian "first come, first served."

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): It works for Comcast, it should work for me.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): And maybe a little strange (says the black pot). But mostly "stranger" in the sense of "not a fibre geek."

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): And it just goes to show that good taste crosses genres.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Fabulous Yarns also has very patient customer service people who very patiently explained this to me when I wrote to tell them, "I think your yarn is mis-labeled because clearly this is laceweight."

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): What *am* I going to make with the sequins and beads?

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): I'm playing out my own version of The Tell-Tale Heart here, people.

§§FOOTNOTE (twisted): Both yarns (collectively: The Yarn) went on many field trips as I showed them off and photographed them. When I floated the Rogue River for five days, I came away with 900 pictures. When I paraded The Yarn, I ended up with 800 pictures. I have a problem.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (raise your hand if you agree with the neighbours): Insaner. Than they already did. Nobody ever gets close enough for me to explain the blog thing. All they see is me photographing yarn and books on my deck and in the gazebo and in the Carousel Pavilion and they keep their distance.

##FOOTNOTE (the pounding from the floorboards): And the BEATING OF HIS HIDEOUS HEART! That may be funnier in my head than it is here. Y'all are used to that. Go back and look at the pretty yarn if you need to.

Lost and Found

Poor eca.

Hers was the first package to go missing in the Going Postal Debacle 2009. So in this week of showing off, stirring envy† and giving credit where credit is due, eca goes first. She's waited quite long enough.‡




[SUMMARY: Don't get me started on the post office.]

When the package was missing, I was particularly bummed about the notebook you see there on the bottom right. It's not stunningly gorgeous or cleverly laid out -- nothing you'd look at and say, "That's one spectacular notebook!" -- but eca got it during her brief and ill-fated stint in Kuwait, so it's an Exotic Notebook from a Distant Land. And that counts big points in my book.

Note how it opens backward and has Arabic writing in the upper right corner of each page.

Exotic.

[SUMMARY: I am a dork of the first water.]

Despite the excitement about the notebook, I think this was my favourite part of the whole package:




I plan to frame it.§

There are several useful little knitty bits, including a tiny knitting book,¶ "hand made" labels and these wonderful stitch markers.




And, of course, when one knitter gifts another, there is often yarn involved.






Fibra Natura Yummy in Purple Haze, with those amazing bumps of deep, rosy, reddy pink and gusts of aubergine. Which goes nicely with the Knitting Socks with Handpainted Yarns book.#

[SUMMARY: Theme packages are a thing of art.]

A big thank you to eca-elf, along with a hearty Na-na-n-na-nyaaa to envious knitters everywhere.

[SUMMARY: Wait... saints shouldn't stick their tongues out like that...]

Tomorrow: Yarn to kill or die for.

*************

Let Me Play the Lion - Les Nez

Marin says: Pleasantly, evocatively woodsy. And quotes one of my top three favourite Shakespeare plays,†† so it has that going for it.

Lion starts with pine and maybe a hint of lime. Then the oilier, sharper pine settles into cedar enhanced by pepper (to steal from Hans) and something sweeter -- maybe cardamom?‡‡ -- then I suddenly recognise the resinous and slightly smoky touch that gives its incense away.

None of the scents is really discreet. They're all complementary and interwoven and the change in scent seems to come more from a change of perception than in the various components drying off and wafting away to reveal their compatriots.

This perfume/cologne§§ has the distinction of being the first I've ever found that doesn't list any notes, so I can't play my normal game of Name That Smell. I can but tell you what I get.

Also? I wore this to the gym Saturday night.¶¶ It keeps close enough to the skin that a spritz in the ol' jogbra makes my workout much happier, but doesn't clobber anybody else.

The perfumer says:

Scents of dusty trails,
Of lightly sweetened ochre,
Of sun-weathered wood,
Of silence swept by mild breezes,
Of skies open like an endless azure cut oozing signs
of the coming storm.

(just for the record, here are Luckyscent's and The Perfumed Court's version -- see? No specific notes at all! Can you tell that as much as I like the perfume, the mystery of the missing notes is *really* turning me on?)

Hans says: Black pepper. I'm getting black pepper. Is it black pepper? Did I get one?

[I explained that I hadn't even looked up the notes yet. Not, as it turns out, that it would do us any good.]

It finishes with black pepper. It starts out piney, I guess. Then I get black pepper. I want black pepper. Let me know how it turns out.

EPILOGUE: Hans actually came into my office ten minutes later to ask if there was black pepper on the list. I believe his response to, "There are no notes listed anywhere," was, "Bastards."


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I believe if you check the handbook, saints aren't allowed to indulge in envy themselves, but I think there is a loophole that allows them/us to bring out the envy in others. It's like a holy Bitch Test.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Since January 3. Priority Mail, my ass.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Not only is it cute and funny, it could be kinda deep. Isn't that what a wolf would say, were he dressed in sheep's clothing?

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): With highly portable directions on performing a kitchener stitch.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Which I do have. Did have. Actually might not have already had had I gotten the package on time, now that I think about it. Damned post office. But no knitting book ever goes to waste.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): One to read, one to stage, one to play the lead.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): To name a random, sweetish spice I don't really know that well... but it's really good in that Indian rice pudding.

§§FOOTNOTE (that's me rolling my eyes): Because it's nothing if not unisex, and boys don't wear perfume.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (raising the holy banners): If I lost any saint points gloating (though, see †FOOTNOTE, above), I should totally get them back and then some for gymming on fornication night.

Spam eMail Subject Line of the Day

Beating meat is essential for health. attics.

I didn't even open it to find out if they want to make me thin or want to make my penis bigger or want me to sell my clutter on eBay for big cash now.

Speaking of Economic Stimulus...

Dear Corporate Weasel:

Let's say you and I go to Vegas and you gamble all your money away and I have to foot the bill for your dumb ass to maintain a comfortable vacation lifestyle, including an indoor bed and enough food to keep you alive.

You, in turn, promise to stop gambling, tip your waitress and pay me back.

A month later, you still haven't even hinted at actually repaying me and you've purchased a collection of Star Wars action figures on eBay to the tune of $7600. When I ask about my money, touching on the idea that perhaps such a frivolous acquisition might be ill-conceived, given our fnancial arrangement, you don't even bat an eye. You assure me it wasn't my money that bought Jar-Jar Binks and his fleet of Tie-Fighters and you go back to playing with your dolls.

Whose money *was* it then?

Sincerely,
Marin

p.s. -- tell Wells Fargo, hedonistic, clueless, would-be consumer of actual Vegas vacations, we're not laughing at their "we don't need your money to pay for bonuses or compensation" joke.

Oh, Baby

You're going to think I've flat lost my mind. Or maybe regained it.

[SUMMARY: Short trip.]

This is just a taste† of the fiberlicious wealth yet to come.

A postal update: Thursday, I received the mad-making‡ note in my mailbox saying, "We put a key in your box a LONG TIME AGO and you apparently aren't bright enough to keep track of such things."§

It was signed by my "regular" mail carrier, Jim, who suggested I call him at the post office if I couldn't find the key.

Here's a funny little bit: last Tuesday, in the throes of deprived desperation, I opened the big, we-can't-fit-this-package-in-your-box@ boxes¶ in my bank of mail boxes in a futile effort to find my missing packages. All were empty. All had the keys.

When I talked to Jim on Thursday, I apprised him of this, and we determined three things:

1. Jim checked the box on Wednesday and was very confused that I couldn't find my packages because they were right there,
2. Jim, despite being my "regular" mail carrier, hadn't personally placed any of said packages in the overflow box, so he couldn't really vouch for how long they'd been there, and
3. there were FIVE packages.#

Long, ridiculous story short,†† I got my packages Friday evening and I have yarn and knitting books and all's right with the world. What's more, I think the USPS is now afraid of me,‡‡ because when I was taking Monday off,§§ the doorbell rang and it was a mailman with a box that could easily have fit in the Big Package Box, but I fancy he just didn't want to risk it.

Yay, me. And good for the Postal Service for learning something.¶¶

[SUMMARY: To forgive is divine.%]

Anyway, the packages... the camera... the pictures... same story, different day... eventually, I'll get the pictures on the camera and subsequently get them back off the camera to beam them to a computer screen near you.

For now, please join me in celebrating yet another finished object^:






I know all y'all knitters have seen it before, but there are a few non-knitters that check in here occasionally who might be impressed by the origami## of the Baby Suprise Jacket.†††

And even if that doesn't get you, aren't the buttons just perfect?




I know Showers of Flowers is often reviled by the local knitting community, but they've never been anything but nice to me and they have a hell of a button selection.

[SUMMARY: Send me your poor, your downtrodden, your maligned yarn shop owners...]

I think‡‡‡ I spent more than $30 on buttons for future, unstarted BSJ's.¶¶¶


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Like a heroin dealer trying to reel in a new customer.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Keeping in mind that the test says I'm very low on wrath.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): OK, it was a little nicer than that, but I haven't quite got all the postal bitch out of my system.

@FOOTNOTE (atted): BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): I'm sure there's a technical term for it, but you know what I mean... the individual mailboxes are fine for flat mail or very small and squishy packages (you can't imagine how creatively I've found sock yarn shipments wedged in there), but they have the larger boxes there just in case.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): And it's a little embarrassing to complain about missing three packages, only to realise you completely forgot about two Internet shopping interludes.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): As my college boyfriend used to say, "Too late."

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): My sense of self-worth is not at ALL inflated; I am, after all, a low-Pride kinda girl.

§§FOOTNOTE (smoke... mirrors...): Don't let that fool you -- Sloth is just not my thing.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (even if you have to club them with it): No matter how small or how short-lived.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Rumour has it I don't get any saint points for washing my own damned car, so I'm going back to the basics.

^FOOTNOTE (careted): Named the NESSIL BSJ: Not Evil StepSister-In-Law [to be] Baby Surprise Jacket. 'Cause, you know, I have an Evil Stepsister-to-be, but this is the wife of my Fantabulous Stepbrother-to-be. She's actually pretty wonderful herself, but Wonderful Stepsister-in-law was Wssil and that just seemed awkward.

##FOOTNOTE (by the numbers): It's a brooch! It's a pterodactyl!

†††FOOTNOTE (only a saint could use this many crosses without bursting into flames. Or Madonna, during the Lucky Star years when she was a little more Like a Virgin.): I was mostly surprised how much I enjoyed the project. Miles of garter stitch and no lace or cables in sight isn't generally my cup of tea.

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (have I done the "right track" joke here?): *ahem*

§§§FOOTNOTE (the logic will make your head swim): I do have the yarn for them, though, so it wasn't a complete economic stimulus package.

If This Comes As a Surprise...

...you haven't been paying attention.

Greed:	Medium
Gluttony:	Medium
Wrath:	Very Low
Sloth:	Low
Envy:	Low
Lust:	High
Pride:	Low

Discover Your Sins - Click Here

Stupid Sparkly Vampire

{Jinx via Great White Snark}

Quote from Jinx: "I don't care if his skin glows and twinkles and he smells like kittens and fabric softener, he's still just a glorified syringe."

My Rose Royce Saturday

Productive. I was productive, I tell you.

Here's the license plate before I washed the car†:




Perhaps this gives you an inkling as to why I finally bathed the poor thing. As Tallest, Hairiest Nephew has been known to say, "AntiM, she does *not* want to be a jeep."

I completely failed to get after pictures,‡ but did take pictures from inside the car wash.§






Jackson Pollack got nothing on me.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I actually took this picture to prove my tags were at one time up-to-date, as I had to pay a larger-than-necessary fine when the 2008 sticker came off the car. I was very careful to wash, rinse and dry the place where the 2009 sticker would go and it still came about halfway off. So I Gorilla Glued it.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): I worry one doesn't get one's full complement of saint points if one doesn't have proof of one's good works.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): You're welcome.

When Worlds Collide

{from Geekologie -- ya gotta hit the link.}

I think my geek life just ran over my chic life.

A line of three Star Trek-themed colognes. I am not making this up.