I Know It When I See It.

That's been a recurring theme lately, hasn't it?†

And most useful for today's brief snark about art. Because I may not know much about art, but this is a French memo board from Target:



I'm pretty sure this makes this...


{Jeremy Moon at the Rocket Gallery via Yatzer‡}

...not art, despite the fact that it has a gallery showing.§

[SUMMARY: You kids get off my lawn!]

This, however, I would categorise as art:




I can't tell you how cool it is to know people from high school about whom you're proud to say, "I knew her when."¶


p.s. -- not in keeping with the high school thing, but Morwynne# posted a couple of recordings to My Space and that's art too.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Surprisingly enough, I'm using it for the art rather than porn.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed):

Oh, Yatzer, Yatzer...
such beauty you have given,
now to disappoint.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Which reminds me of a premise explored in James Morrow's Only Begotten Daughter, under which the sole criterion for going to Hell is that someone else can imagine you there. Apparently, the only criterion for art is that someone will hang it in a gallery.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Even if I knew her as Kathy, Tia, Kathy and Jeffe rather than Kathryn, Lucretia, Kathryn and -- yes -- still Jeffe.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Who once offered to kneecap an ex-boyfriend for free. You can't say anything bad about Morwynne to me. I simply wouldn't buy it.

Is "Old News" Oxymoronic?

And who are you calling a moron?†

Ah, it's a good thing I'm here to laugh at myself. I mean, I know all y'all are laughing at me, but I'm laughing because I think I'm funny.

[SUMMARY: I take what I can get.]

In last weeked's Travels with Shanny, we witnessed this gem:






"Do you suppose if Jesus came back now, he'd say, 'When *I* was crucified, we didn't have any wheels on our crosses. Oh, no, we had to drag our crosses through the alleys of Jerusalem with no help at all! Uphill both ways! And my father went *right by me* on his way to work!'"‡

Then we took a seat to watch the weirdos and tourists§ drift by and I saw this sign:




In all my years wandering up and down the 16th Street Mall, I never noticed this sign. I told Shanny so.

"Hey," he said, "Do you think they'd arrest the guy with the wheeled cross?"

[SUMMARY: Shanny's going to hell. I'm gong to hell.¶ The arresting officer would most certainly be going to hell.]

Sometimes you just couldn't make up anything funnier than what's floating around out there not trying to be funny.

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

Black Violet - Tom Ford Private Blend

Marin says: Lime... or bergamot, maybe,# with something else fruity -- I'm going with apricot, since it's one of my favourite notes and is just a little drier than peach, for these purpoes. My wrists feel warm -- not in a burning, allergic way, but in an electric blanket, comforting way.

We know the citrus isn't going to last long, since that's citrus's lot in life. That scent boosting it up, pushing it over the edge... vanilla? Amber? Warm and sweet, but a little dusty and not sugary. It has a moment of flirting with bay rum.

And there goes the citrus.

Now I smell like a Barbie doll fresh from her package, the scent I generally get when there are violets in the offing.†† That's quickly overcome by a blond wood. Not sweet, not balsamic, but definitely woody.

And... scene!

In the time it took you to read this, the scent went almost completely away. My wrists still feel warm, but it's very difficult to find the slightest trace of a scent left.‡‡ It's a shame -- I really liked the scent, very well balanced, intriguing, with some of my favourite inoffensive notes§§ well represented.

Tom Ford says: Crisp Citrus$ surrounds a modern pulpy Fruit Accord,$ fused with Black Violets.$ Woody$ accents fold into Oakmoss adding the universally comforting sensation of warmth.$

Hans says: it smells like an Abercrombie & Fitch cologne someone got me in high school.¶¶


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): I should know better than to ask that.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Wow. That's so deep you could do a doctoral thesis on it.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Probably a good thing. I'm not sure I want to go through an afterlife without Shanny. Hey, if you make saint, do you get to appoint a cabinet?

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): I only throw bergamot in because half the time when I think I smell lime, the perfumer tells me it's actually bergamot.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Epiphany: it's interesting how many perfume notes take me back to some childhood toy: Barbie, Play-doh, Silly Putty...

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): If I put the tip of my nose right at the bottom of my hand with my nose-holes perpendicular to my wrist, nothing. If I lay my nose-holes right on my wrist, I get a surprisingly full snork of violets and wood.

§§FOOTNOTE (twisted sense of smell): 'Cause we all know how I feel about honey.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (A&F models, staring off-camera to the sea): He didn't say whether that was bad or good, but he did allow as how he had ended up with maybe five bottles of cologne through his lifetime, but had probably worn cologne twice.

$FOOTNOTE (on the money!): I'm claiming apricot as "modern pulpy Fruit Accord" and I'm mildly freaked out that the warm thing may be a feature of the blend rather than just my own reaction. Those KY his 'n' hers commercials keep going through my head. Also? Some day I'm going to get a bead on what oakmoss smells like...

Just Like Jack Daniels Uses

I am a high-quality† filter.%

Every day, I get my three emails from Very Short List. Every day, I read them, check out the links and carefully consider how badly Brother may need them. Then I forward as appropriate.

I have suggested he might like to subscribe to VSL and make his own decisions on what Very Short News he gets, but he maintains we have a good set-up just the way it is.

So...

The whole QO'Q path is not meant to get me out of meaningful blogging,‡ nor to mask the fact that I can't get my butt to the basement to extract and process photos for knitting content§; it is my way of distilling the thousands of pieces of information I receive every day into a tasty, intoxicating¶ concoction for you, whilst filtering out the chaff.#

[SUMMARY: We come to praise Caesar, not to bury him.]

To that end, I bring you today's found object.

It's a PETA anti-fishing campaign that makes me wonder if such vast resources could be used for good instead of inane:




There's a large, multi-paged, multi-media'd website devoted entirely to Sea†† Kittens. It includes a book of Sea Kitten bedtime stories.‡‡ I don't want to give the ending away, but Chapter One is entitled "Snuggle Buddies."§§

On the bright side, you can build your own Sea Kitten.

Mine is called "Lunch."@

Create Your Own Sea Kitten at peta.org!

In the interest of full disclosure, it should be noted my favourite radio moment of the 20th century was a debate between a PETA representative¶¶ and Ted Nugent on the merits of fishing.##

[SUMMARY: I'm not fair and balanced, but I'm open about it.†††]

Further updates as I think the situation warrants it.


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): We've gone this far without bursting my bubble. Let's not start now, shall we?

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Jack Daniels uses charcoal. Charcoal is quite simply a diamond in the rough. I believe this to be apt. See footnote (crossed) above.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Which it does.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Which it should.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): In keeping with the whiskey theme.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): And, in keeping with the whiskey theme, if there is grain mash in whiskey, there *must* be chaff to be separated somewhere in the process.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): The temptation to write to PETA to point out that many, many fish never see the sea... don't they want to save the bass? And the brook trout? And the Colorado state fish, the greenback cutthroat trout which was listed as "threatened" on the endangered species list due to whirling disease? DOESN'T PETA CARE ABOUT *MY* FISH?!

Oh, yeah. Big temptation. I think all y'all should write to PETA about your respective state fishes. Unless they're actually ocean-going fishes, that is.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Because you can tell a lot about a culture by its bedtime stories. I am not making this shit up.

§§FOOTNOTE (my footnotes have whirling disease!): Have you ever snuggled a trout? It's not something about which they should be writing bedtime stories.

@FOOTNOTE (atted): Lunch has her own water dish (what fish doesn't need a water dish?), is festooned in red yarn (every knitter's fish should have a yarn ball) and sports a tiara. Question: doesn't PETA have a bunch to say about the mistreatment of wool-bearing animals in the yarn-making process? Aren't they in danger of being hypocritical by having yarn available for their Sea Kittens?

¶¶FOOTNOTE (club footed by a lack of eloquence): Who had trouble stringing three words together.

##FOOTNOTE (pounding the point home): Who strung a LOT of words together.

†††FOOTNOTE (pictures at 11, crosses at 3): One little thing Fox News and I don't have in common.

Take That, You Democrats!

A nice piece of elephant:



[SUMMARY: The best punchlines are served up cold.%]

I went to one of those parties this weekend. I told the saleschick† I wanted to take a picture of the Perfect Jewel and exactly why. She thought it was funny, then told me I could just go to the website and steal their picture.

Once I got to their website, I was sadly disappointed by the enlargement options‡ on their photos. Thus, this isn't the greatest picture, but I trust you'll get the idea.§


%FOOTNOTE (percented): Ask the people in Jonestown.

I'm going to hell.

†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Not her official title, and probably one of those accidentally anti-feminist remarks I tend to make, being not very sensitive and all.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): If you were selling vibrators, wouldn't you want wildly liberal enlargement options? For so many reasons?

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): 'Cause y'all are smart that way. Wouldn't a picture of a donkey be so appropriate right about now?

This is the Blog that Never Ends†

My favourite part of last night‡ was when Mike Ditka said JaMarcus Russell was retarded.§

I'm pretty sure that's not very Christian or saintly, but I'm pretty sure I can scrape up some good Satan-based¶ scripture to support my views on the Raiders.

[SUMMARY: St. Marin, my ass.#]

I did, however have a pretty saintly encounter with the push ups last night, and today they hurt.

I fear Wednesday.

[SUMMARY: I bet there's a Greek name for Fear of Push Ups on Wednesday.%]

Hans is gone to Lusk again until Friday. Let us revel in his last perfume review and count the days until he returns.
*************

One Leaf Clove - Cobalt Blends (oil)

Marin says: Ook. At first glance, it's kinda awful. There's a pleasant enough (if banal) floral with a touch of wood to it... but fighting it is a synthetic, kool-aid fruit smell, like something a four-year-old inexplicably likes in his breakfast cereal.

Fortunately, that dissolves away fairly quickly, leaving just a tangy hint in the background under a bed of soft rose cupping a light clove with maybe a touch of bitter orange. But you only get that snorking right up on the wrist -- the impressionistic distance†† is still a little sweet and definitely unremarkable.

Confession: I really loved this around midnight.‡‡ After a long day of wallowing in bed and watching football, it was a really rich, slightly dirty cocoa that made my mouth water.

Scent Scribbles says:§§ Clove, fig, juicy blood orange,$ peach,$ oakmoss and a gossamer drizzle of honey.$

Hans says: Lavender and lemon


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): You'd think that some days, when I had nothing to say, I'd just shut up. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed):




§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Well, that and the final score.

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): If Al Davis isn't Satan, I don't know who is.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Do saints say "ass"?

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Ectaco.com tells me ΑΝΕΒΆΖΩ is Greek for push up, but all the sites agree there are no Wednesdays in Greece. So I have Anebazophobia on Wednesdays.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): I'm pretty sure that's the important part. It's what I smell when I'm typing, for instance, or what you might smell if you ran into me at the grocery store.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): That's a long time to wait for the yummy.

§§FOOTNOTE (supply and demand curves): Cobalt Blends no longer has a description, since it was a limited edition. And now you have a good idea of why I bought it. Such a sucker.

$FOOTNOTE (on the money!): Ha! Got one! Mostly becaues I'm counting peach + honey drizzle = Fruity Pebbles.

I'll Have a Blue Christmas

Or Flag Day.

Or birthday.

Or 4th of July.

The blue rolls on.

[SUMMARY: Airless rut or unprecedented level of consistency? You decide.]

First, I've more or less made peace with the awful raffia silk. It's still splitty as a cheerleader, but I've had some practice and it's knitting pretty smoothly. It weighs about as much as an apple pip, but I have faith it will be a lovely accessory† when it's all done and blocked.




Have I mentioned lately how much I love lace? Something like this‡ is just interesting enough to be... interesting,§ but easy enough for TiVi.

Under the auspices of full disclosure, I should note that roughly three seconds after I snapped this shot, the ball of yarn bounded off its perch and bounced on the deck, rolling under the railing and into the rain gutter.

Could've been worse; could've fallen to the alley.

[SUMMARY: Optimist dork.]

Also? I'm working that second ball now.

[SUMMARY: And still twelve.]

I cast on Sunday night¶ -- yet another blue-ish thing -- for Sebring, by Dolce Handknits.#



The Drunken Knitters decided to KAL this... oh, probably two months ago. While I'm lagging, I know Bag Lady Kathryn was two rows in and ready to frog and Genius Sarah didn't like the gauge and was going to frog, so I may not be the wet blanket on the project it appeared I was going to be.




For the record, since this photo was taken, I have knit another six rounds.††

Also for the record, the pattern calls for 6.75 stitches/inch‡‡ and this gives me 6/in, so I went down to a small, which makes me inordinately happy, artificial though it may be.

Also for the record, that's Knit Picks Shine Sport, which I'm kinda loving, and that kinda scares me. It's cotton/modal. I have been pretty vocal about my dislike of plant fibres, but this one doesn't seem to be hurting my hands the way I'd anticipated.

[SUMMARY: Bonus!]

Also for the record?% I already made a mistake on the lace panel on one side, but I figure nobody will notice, so I ain't frogging.

You see why I had to put that after the "bonus!" gloat.

Next!

Following my usual MO,§§ I fondled this at Sylvia's House of Fuzzy Crack for about three months before settling on a pattern to justify its purchase:




Just in case you can't see the ongoing blue theme...




Another plant fibre, by the way, but a very interesting texture. Oddly silky for as bumpy as it looks. I'm just dying to see how it knits up.

I suspect the lace motif on the bottom of the tank will be mostly lost in the pebbly bits.

I suspect I don't care.

[SUMMARY: All about the journey.]

Some of you may recognise this as yarn the Harlot recently touted.

Thus, I assume some of you may be terribly jealous and impressed¶¶ at my next blue acquisition.

When I told Sylvia I was having surgery, she decided to give me an extra-special get well gift##:




What do Fiona Ellis,††† the Yarn Harlot and your dear ol' AntiM have in common?

Fiona Ellis has a skein.

The Yarn Harlot has a skein.

I have a skein.

You don't have any.

[SUMMARY: Nya-nya-n-nya-nahhhh.]

Y'all know how much I love exclusive, one-of-a-kind, limited edition, get-it-while-it's-hot stuff. More important, Sylvia knows how much I love exclusive, one-of-a-kind, limited edition, get-it-while-it's-hot stuff.

[SUMMARY: Usual MO.]

And I'm not counting this as fuss. Besides, if fuss comes in the form of silky wool, I may see if I can have open heart surgery next month.

SUMMARY: Still a knitblog!


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Cute Christopher, late of Patrick Carroll's (I'm sure we'll get to that story when he opens his new bar in July), dropped by last night and saw me knitting the fluffly little thing. "That's a for-looks scarf, isn't it? I'm from Minnesota. Scarves like that don't make much sense to me."

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): k1, yo *k3, k2tog, yo* k2tog... purl on the other side... all with a three-stitch knit selvedge

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Wow. Too many lolcats: "Interesting cat is interesting."

¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): You may ask yourself, "How many blue projects does one knitter need?" You may ask yourself, "Where is my beautiful red?" You may ask yourself, "How did I get to this place?"

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Yeah, we love her touseled, provocative pose and snarly face too. There may be a mass snarly-touseled-provocative picture once we all finish our tanks.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): At 240 stitches per round, I want full credit.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): ?!?

%FOOTNOTE (percented): I have quite a record with this tank already.

§§FOOTNOTE (yo, k1, yo): Or is that redundant?

¶¶FOOTNOTE (I spy -- hey, they look like periscopes to me): Please?

##FOOTNOTE (all those extra pounds...): She also called me a brat for not telling her exactly when I was having surgery, but I can be pretty laid back about the name-calling in the presence of silk and wool. 'Specially blue silk and wool. She let me pick my own colour. I picked blue. Did I mention the blue phase?

†††FOOTNOTE (Arlington): Who did a sweater workshop at Syl's last weekend. Syl treats her celeb guests right. Y'know... like the Yarn Harlot, Fiona Ellis and me.

A Pig of My Own

This was my desk:




See that yellow spongy thing next to my mouse?† That's a sample of Tempur-Pedic™ foam I got specifically to cushion my poor, abused wrist on long mousing days.‡

Then my life changed forever.

Kim, lover of Hugh Laurie, hip mom, charter member of the AntiM Imaginary Friends Community and one of the twelvest twelve-year-olds I know, sent me this§:




With a note with the secret twelvehood password:




The instructions are kinda funny, but I really love that a glow-in-the-dark pig with 45 hearts is suitable for professionals.




Awwwww... wookat da piggie...¶




So now my desk has changed. My world is brighter,# my outlook is better...




...and on slow days I can spend a lot of time doing this%:




A big, happy thank you to Kim, who had to wait while I proved my parents never taught me any manners at all†† by not letting her know I'd received the piggie and put him‡‡ to good use. So also a big apology to Kim. It is one of the coolest things I own§§ and I love it and thank you thank you thank you!


†FOOTNOTE (crossed): And, in the name of knitblog, notice the Knit Picks catalog peeking out from my legal pad.

‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): I thought it was a very clever solution, and when the Tempu-Pedic™ people send me sales mail, I just throw them away.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Marvel at the perfection. It's a pig. It cushions my wrist. It GLOWS IN THE DARK. And it has 45 hearts. I counted. Also note: it's part of a series. How bad do you want to see the rest of that series?




¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Did you notice how photogenic the piggie is?

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): It has to be... it glows in the dark!

%FOOTNOTE (percented): *ahem* I believe this makes two movies of Marin's hands manipulating novelty pigs. 1) It's probably already a world record, 2) if The Boy isn't careful, his name may change to Novelty Pig and 3) doesn't "manipulating the pig" sound naughty?

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): The discourtesy against Kim only compounded by the fact that I only check my mail about once a week.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Yes, him. Despite the 45 pink hearts. Pigs and spiders tend to be "hims."

§§FOOTNOTE (and then I got all turned around and...): And I have a big HD TiVi and a cat.

In Which I Find Religion

"God, I have to admit, I've really felt alone a lot. I've felt like you didn't exist. I just didn't believe in you for awhile."

She said, "Do you remember that day you were walking on the beach?"

I said, "Yeah."

"Well, I was there."

"But there was just one set of footprints."

She said, "I was on your back."

"I thought I felt heavy that day. I thought it was water retention."

"No," she said, "Know that when you are bloated, I am there."

--Ellen Degeneres
the funny thing is...
©2003