Sunday, April 24, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Black Tie Zombie
I'm not making this up.†
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Should saints-in-waiting take this much joy in zombies?
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Should saints-in-waiting take this much joy in zombies?
Thursday, March 24, 2011
The Glory of Techmology
Werk recently upgraded† to the latest Microsoft Outlook, which includes a voice-to-text for voice mail.
Let's back up: if someone leaves a message on my office phone, I get an email with the caller ID and a play button that I can either send to my phone‡ or listen to via a media player on my computer.
PLUS... when I got a company-sponsored cell phone,§ they hooked my Outlook to it, so I¶ get a copy on my cell phone of the email that contains a copy of my work voice mail when someone leaves a message on my work phone.#
Hans and I were toddling off to lunch yesterday, when my phone tick-tocked†† to tell me I had a message. When I checked it, I recognised it as a voice mail notification,‡‡ but it also had the following text§§:
Let's back up again: Brother wants to be black. At times, Brother has thought he was black. He's pretty hip to the hip hop culture, so I read the text and thought it was an actual text or an email maybe. At first, I said to myself, "Self, Brother is having problems with his autocorrect." Then I decided he was rapping some hep slang that I simply wasn't down with.¶¶
Two or three minutes of examining context and I realised it was voice-to-text## and it was kinda screwed up.
By that time, I really wanted to know what "brooklyn truck" was going to be.
Here's the actual voice recording:
And here's a transcript:
"Yo, it's your brother. I'm probably going to give you... drop you an email too, but I just thought I would check maybe if you could, um, drop by here on your way home today real quick so I can slip you a key, go over, y'know, what to do with the cat and stuff.††† Awesome. Alright, thanks. Bye."
"Brooklyn truck" is now acceptable Untiedt sibling slang for "real quick."‡‡‡
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): And I use the term loosely.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Desk phone, that is.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Which isn't quite the treat it sounded like at the outset. I can't call the carrier for help, I can't add international texting - even if I pay for it myself - because if IT has to support too many odd requests they'll explode, and I don't have a mouseball on my phone and I hate that. As I whine about this, I'm wondering if I need to spend some time in a Third World country to gain perspective.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): ...can be in close, personal contact with work 24 hours a day...
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Screw the Hokey-Pokey, *that's* what it's all about.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Because that's the noise I chose to represent notifications.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): It had a picture of a phone.
§§FOOTNOTE (jump back turn around): Which was the first time I'd seen text on an email with a picture of a phone on it.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (throwin' up gang signs yo yo): Word to your mother like it's hot. And a bag of chips.
##FOOTNOTE (in for a penny or two): When I said the Outlook upgrade was recent, I apparently meant, like, yesterday.
†††FOOTNOTE (I'm just so terribly cross): Brother and his girlthing are going to Costa Rica for a week. B-cat (Beatrice, Brother's cat) is a travelling man's cat and has always been perfectly capable of entertaining herself for days on end. Brother is blaming it on the girlthing - he says ever since Cindy moved in, B-cat thinks she needs attention all the time. Hence the need for a catsitter.
‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (we're on the right track): I feel confident I can speak for Brother too when I say, "Don't feel you need to be an Untiedt sibling to use this wonderful new slang phrase. Spread the world! Share with your friends!"
Let's back up: if someone leaves a message on my office phone, I get an email with the caller ID and a play button that I can either send to my phone‡ or listen to via a media player on my computer.
PLUS... when I got a company-sponsored cell phone,§ they hooked my Outlook to it, so I¶ get a copy on my cell phone of the email that contains a copy of my work voice mail when someone leaves a message on my work phone.#
Hans and I were toddling off to lunch yesterday, when my phone tick-tocked†† to tell me I had a message. When I checked it, I recognised it as a voice mail notification,‡‡ but it also had the following text§§:
Let's back up again: Brother wants to be black. At times, Brother has thought he was black. He's pretty hip to the hip hop culture, so I read the text and thought it was an actual text or an email maybe. At first, I said to myself, "Self, Brother is having problems with his autocorrect." Then I decided he was rapping some hep slang that I simply wasn't down with.¶¶
Two or three minutes of examining context and I realised it was voice-to-text## and it was kinda screwed up.
By that time, I really wanted to know what "brooklyn truck" was going to be.
Here's the actual voice recording:
And here's a transcript:
"Yo, it's your brother. I'm probably going to give you... drop you an email too, but I just thought I would check maybe if you could, um, drop by here on your way home today real quick so I can slip you a key, go over, y'know, what to do with the cat and stuff.††† Awesome. Alright, thanks. Bye."
"Brooklyn truck" is now acceptable Untiedt sibling slang for "real quick."‡‡‡
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): And I use the term loosely.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Desk phone, that is.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Which isn't quite the treat it sounded like at the outset. I can't call the carrier for help, I can't add international texting - even if I pay for it myself - because if IT has to support too many odd requests they'll explode, and I don't have a mouseball on my phone and I hate that. As I whine about this, I'm wondering if I need to spend some time in a Third World country to gain perspective.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): ...can be in close, personal contact with work 24 hours a day...
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Screw the Hokey-Pokey, *that's* what it's all about.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Because that's the noise I chose to represent notifications.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): It had a picture of a phone.
§§FOOTNOTE (jump back turn around): Which was the first time I'd seen text on an email with a picture of a phone on it.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (throwin' up gang signs yo yo): Word to your mother like it's hot. And a bag of chips.
##FOOTNOTE (in for a penny or two): When I said the Outlook upgrade was recent, I apparently meant, like, yesterday.
†††FOOTNOTE (I'm just so terribly cross): Brother and his girlthing are going to Costa Rica for a week. B-cat (Beatrice, Brother's cat) is a travelling man's cat and has always been perfectly capable of entertaining herself for days on end. Brother is blaming it on the girlthing - he says ever since Cindy moved in, B-cat thinks she needs attention all the time. Hence the need for a catsitter.
‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (we're on the right track): I feel confident I can speak for Brother too when I say, "Don't feel you need to be an Untiedt sibling to use this wonderful new slang phrase. Spread the world! Share with your friends!"
Thursday, March 17, 2011
It's 39° and Raining in Prague
Yesterday at noon, Hans whisked his girlfriend Angie away from work for a surprise trip.
Yesterday at 6:30, they took off for Prague.
BFD, you may think, particularly if you've gleaned any sense of Hans's travel habits over the last few years.†
This time, thought, he's taking his girlfriend on a trip and bringing home a fiancée.‡
He spent the last month planning, agonising over diamonds and settings, wondering how much his bonus would actually be, asking advice. He found an American photographer in Prague§ and hired him to take pictures of the proposal on the Charles Bridge.¶
At 4:30 yesterday, my boss and one of the other leads asked me if I'd heard from Hans.#
"No. I don't really expect to..." I trailed off as I saw the consternation mixed with disbelief in their eyes.
"I'll text him right now."
And we sat around, Craig Ferguson-style awkward pause in the air.
"Well..." I said, jingling my keys to indicate I really was on my way out the door.
"You'll tell us tomorrow morning."
About 6:15, Hans texted:
"She was shocked, it was awesome."
Keep in mind, that was just because he picked her up to go to the airport.
When I got in this morning, Avis% asked, "Did you hear from Hans?"
"He says she was shocked and it was awesome."
"Where are they now? What time is it in Prague? Has he asked her yet?"
I Googled to find out it was 5:45 in Prague.
"Right about now. He should be asking her any second now."
"Oh, I hope the weather is nice. Did you see what the weather was?"
"Just the time. Here, let me Google... it's raining. It's 39 degrees and it's raining."
"Oh, no! I hope it doesn't ruin their pictures!"
"Well, overcast skies are better for photography anyway..."††
From around the corner, Carla@ chimed in from her desk, "Look at you, looking on the bright side!"
People keep dropping in to find out what we know, speculate on what happened, wonder if Hans has Internet access so he can send us pictures RIGHT NOW.
Gail‡‡ came down a few minutes ago and we were chatting about it.
"I can't believe how excited I am about something that really has nothing to do with me," I said.
"I know!"
"It's like reality TV or something."§§
"It's like we're living in reality."
We both contemplated the sobering idea for a moment, then went on to daydream about wonderful, romantic, surprise proposals in exotic foreign lands.
Hey, maybe I can be Hans's best man...¶¶
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Like how he went to Thailand when we were in crunch time for the Legacy sale... or how he went to Cancun when we were in crunch time for the Albrecht sale... or how he went to Austin when we were in crunch time for the Sequel sale... not that I'm bitter.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Yep! He's trading Angie in on a new model! Haha! Just kidding!
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Google.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): When he was about 20, he was stumbling around Prague in a drunken stupour with some of his college buddies - absinthe may have been involved - and he says that even in his drunken, juvenile state, he stopped on the St. Charles bridge and decided it was the most romantic place in the world and he wanted to come back to it when he wanted to propose to someone. I can hear you "Awwwwwww" from here.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): This is a distinctly female trait. I'm, like, 70% guy, having been trained through many of my formative years by some of the guyest of the guys. It always takes me a little aback when someone asks something like, "Has Hans, who is not your boyfriend, relative or parole officer, taken time out of his very personal journey to one of the most important moments of his life to give you minute-by-minute updates, much like the newscrawl on CNN?"
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Avis is my boss, head of the Lease Records part of the Land Administration department, which consists of two branches - Lease Records and Division Orders - and is overseen by Sandy. You're welcome.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): I learned this in a real photography class. I wasn't just shooting platitudes to the masses to make the masses feel better.
@FOOTNOTE (atted): Carla is the another Lead in Lease Records and oversees the Gulf/Shreveport (basically Texas and Louisiana) region. I oversee the Rockies (Colorado, Montana, North Dakota, South Dakota and Utah... but mostly North Dakota). Again, you're welcome.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Who fielded the girly questions from Hans (who knows I'm 70% guy and maybe not the best person to ask for how Ange would feel about something). She says he'd come in and say, "If you were packing for a surprise trip, how much time would you need?" "Hans," she'd say, "why don't you just ask the question you want to ask: how much time will Angie need to pack? I'm not packing. I'm not going anywhere. Two hours, but you better be packed and on call to pick up pantyhose or mascara or whatever last-minute thing she thinks she needs."
§§FOOTNOTE (my girly little head is just all a-swirl!): I've heard it's like that on reality TiVi. *ahem*
¶¶FOOTNOTE (reality knocks twice): *ZING!* That was the sound of reality going right out the window.
Yesterday at 6:30, they took off for Prague.
BFD, you may think, particularly if you've gleaned any sense of Hans's travel habits over the last few years.†
This time, thought, he's taking his girlfriend on a trip and bringing home a fiancée.‡
He spent the last month planning, agonising over diamonds and settings, wondering how much his bonus would actually be, asking advice. He found an American photographer in Prague§ and hired him to take pictures of the proposal on the Charles Bridge.¶
At 4:30 yesterday, my boss and one of the other leads asked me if I'd heard from Hans.#
"No. I don't really expect to..." I trailed off as I saw the consternation mixed with disbelief in their eyes.
"I'll text him right now."
And we sat around, Craig Ferguson-style awkward pause in the air.
"Well..." I said, jingling my keys to indicate I really was on my way out the door.
"You'll tell us tomorrow morning."
About 6:15, Hans texted:
"She was shocked, it was awesome."
Keep in mind, that was just because he picked her up to go to the airport.
When I got in this morning, Avis% asked, "Did you hear from Hans?"
"He says she was shocked and it was awesome."
"Where are they now? What time is it in Prague? Has he asked her yet?"
I Googled to find out it was 5:45 in Prague.
"Right about now. He should be asking her any second now."
"Oh, I hope the weather is nice. Did you see what the weather was?"
"Just the time. Here, let me Google... it's raining. It's 39 degrees and it's raining."
"Oh, no! I hope it doesn't ruin their pictures!"
"Well, overcast skies are better for photography anyway..."††
From around the corner, Carla@ chimed in from her desk, "Look at you, looking on the bright side!"
People keep dropping in to find out what we know, speculate on what happened, wonder if Hans has Internet access so he can send us pictures RIGHT NOW.
Gail‡‡ came down a few minutes ago and we were chatting about it.
"I can't believe how excited I am about something that really has nothing to do with me," I said.
"I know!"
"It's like reality TV or something."§§
"It's like we're living in reality."
We both contemplated the sobering idea for a moment, then went on to daydream about wonderful, romantic, surprise proposals in exotic foreign lands.
Hey, maybe I can be Hans's best man...¶¶
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Like how he went to Thailand when we were in crunch time for the Legacy sale... or how he went to Cancun when we were in crunch time for the Albrecht sale... or how he went to Austin when we were in crunch time for the Sequel sale... not that I'm bitter.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Yep! He's trading Angie in on a new model! Haha! Just kidding!
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Google.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): When he was about 20, he was stumbling around Prague in a drunken stupour with some of his college buddies - absinthe may have been involved - and he says that even in his drunken, juvenile state, he stopped on the St. Charles bridge and decided it was the most romantic place in the world and he wanted to come back to it when he wanted to propose to someone. I can hear you "Awwwwwww" from here.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): This is a distinctly female trait. I'm, like, 70% guy, having been trained through many of my formative years by some of the guyest of the guys. It always takes me a little aback when someone asks something like, "Has Hans, who is not your boyfriend, relative or parole officer, taken time out of his very personal journey to one of the most important moments of his life to give you minute-by-minute updates, much like the newscrawl on CNN?"
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Avis is my boss, head of the Lease Records part of the Land Administration department, which consists of two branches - Lease Records and Division Orders - and is overseen by Sandy. You're welcome.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): I learned this in a real photography class. I wasn't just shooting platitudes to the masses to make the masses feel better.
@FOOTNOTE (atted): Carla is the another Lead in Lease Records and oversees the Gulf/Shreveport (basically Texas and Louisiana) region. I oversee the Rockies (Colorado, Montana, North Dakota, South Dakota and Utah... but mostly North Dakota). Again, you're welcome.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Who fielded the girly questions from Hans (who knows I'm 70% guy and maybe not the best person to ask for how Ange would feel about something). She says he'd come in and say, "If you were packing for a surprise trip, how much time would you need?" "Hans," she'd say, "why don't you just ask the question you want to ask: how much time will Angie need to pack? I'm not packing. I'm not going anywhere. Two hours, but you better be packed and on call to pick up pantyhose or mascara or whatever last-minute thing she thinks she needs."
§§FOOTNOTE (my girly little head is just all a-swirl!): I've heard it's like that on reality TiVi. *ahem*
¶¶FOOTNOTE (reality knocks twice): *ZING!* That was the sound of reality going right out the window.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Brief
It rarely happens. Revel in it.
Anyway... yesterday I was looking on the blog for references to Head Knitta in Charge and I came across some very early posts that talked about how I'd never blocked anything. And others where I was really excited to figure out colourwork. And others where I did my first lace knitting.
Those were the days of my yarny youth.
It was like looking at old yearbooks with that "what the hell was up with my hair" vibe.
Anyway... yesterday I was looking on the blog for references to Head Knitta in Charge and I came across some very early posts that talked about how I'd never blocked anything. And others where I was really excited to figure out colourwork. And others where I did my first lace knitting.
Those were the days of my yarny youth.
It was like looking at old yearbooks with that "what the hell was up with my hair" vibe.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love the Scarf
Last year, when Edison Elementary held its second annual EdFest† Silent Auction fundraiser, I went. I bought. I volunteered to donate a knitted item this year.
Last Monday, Brother contacted me and said, "I know it's short notice, but Saturday is EdFest."‡
There's a lot of disorganisation and misorganisation and drunkenness§ in the spaces between, but keeping a long story short,¶ I volunteered to give a gift certificate for a scarf.
Thus:
For those of you who don't read mangledese, it says "One pick-your-own-adventure scarf: I'll sit down with the winner over a cup of coffee, a beer or a glass of wine (my treat) and we'll design a scarf for you. Pick your fiber, texture and colour and I'll make it all come true."
Lisa, the appropriate committee member, asked if I had pictures or samples to go with the bid sheet. I sent some pics off Ravelry, but, of course, I don't keep anything I knit.
This whole exchange took place Thursday afternoon.
Thursday night, I had one of my frighteningly brilliant ideas:# find the school mascot and colours and knit a scarf for a toy version of the mascot in those colours. Y'know... just to have something tangible on the table.
Don't think I wasn't hoping they were the Edison R2D2s.††
Turns out they're the Edison Eagles, and their colours are blue and gold-yellow, much like my beloved Denver Nuggets.‡‡
I woke up early Friday knowing I had to find an eagle.§§ Fortunately, as an inveterate shopper with two nephews, I had a good idea of where to find a stuffed eagle.
Bless you, Kazoo & Company.
I ran to a couple of yarn stores.¶¶
At 2:00, I was home, done with lunch and casting on.
Perhaps the next time I'm on a tight deadline, I'll remember that it's not the best time to try a new technique.
At 1:00 Saturday morning, I gave up my double-knitting project. It wasn't horrible. It was just in dire need of blocking,## and I knew there was no way I'd finish the scarf, soak it and have it completely dry before I had to take it to Lisa on Saturday afternoon.
So... I got up at 7:00 Saturday morning and started knitting a new - simpler - scarf for the eagle.
Ta-daaa!
When we got to the fundraiser at 7:00, there was a bid down on the scarf, which tickled the grits out of me, as I wasn't sure how it would represent in a bidding situation. Brother noted that he was up-bidding it because he decided he needed a scarf.†††
In the end, it turned out someone outbid Brother, so I'm feeling all HKIC and shit.%
When the Auction Committee sobers up and tells me who won the scarf, I'll let y'all know. Sounds like it could be fun.‡‡‡
Plus, I'd already told Brother he had the hook-up even if he didn't win the auction scarf.§§§
So, sing it with me: "STILL A KNITBLOG."
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): "EdFest" in my world has a whole lot more Tom Cavanaugh in it, but that's OK.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Paraphrasing. Brother was more cognizant than that.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Oddly enough, not on my part. The mis-, the dis- OR the drunk.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): As my college boyfriend always said, "Too late."
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): I'm not tooting my own horn. It's not that I have ideas so brilliant as to be frightening. No, it's that the ideas that seem so brilliant pan out to be ironically, sarcastically so and it's frightening I continue to believe in my own brilliance.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Think of it... one tiny Star Wars action figure with a couple of tufts of blue and gold yarn...
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Which led to a funny moment at Fancy Tiger when a very sweet (possibly gay, probably artistic, undoubtedly oblivious to sports) boy asked if he could help and I told him I was looking for fingering- or sport-weight yarn in blue and gold, like Denver Nuggets colours. I could almost hear the panic shutting down his organs. He pointed out every skein of yarn in the right gauge, I suspect hoping I'd make up my own mind about what "Denver Nuggets colours" meant.
§§FOOTNOTE (double confusing): There is nothing quite like waking up on your day off knowing you have to find an eagle.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (double the fun): I found my yarn at the first store, but as my brother says, I have a problem. Plus, I have a very weird upcoming knitting project (foreshadowing!) I wanted to get a jump on. In a very researchy, I-probably-didn't-need-to-buy-six-sets-of-square-needles way.
##FOOTNOTE (double the pounds): AntiM's helpful knitting tip #237: Double-knitting pulls the knitted piece in (much like cabling does) and makes your very straight scarf look like an hourglass.
†††FOOTNOTE (is it Lent again already?): Because His Girl Cindy told him he should get a scarf to go with his new Hugo Boss cashmere jacket and he made grumpy faces and stuff. Then he went to NYC and saw that everybody was wearing a scarf and decided it wasn't a bad idea.
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Head Knitta in Charge, in case you forgot.
‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (Frankenstein's blogster): Or a complete nightmare. But I'm an optimist. Or, as Cornel West said on Twitter, "But I'm not an optimist, that's too thin...I'm a prisoner of #hope."
§§§FOOTNOTE (three esses make a full circle, right?): When we discussed particulars, it boiled down to "a tweedy/heathered charcoal in a muffler length." Then I got an update from Colourmart (home of all things cashmere) Sunday mid-day that said they had a shipment of Hugo Boss cashmere just in. So even though Brother didn't win the scarf, Brother absolutely won a scarf. Here's the yarn; its colour is called "Derby":
Last Monday, Brother contacted me and said, "I know it's short notice, but Saturday is EdFest."‡
There's a lot of disorganisation and misorganisation and drunkenness§ in the spaces between, but keeping a long story short,¶ I volunteered to give a gift certificate for a scarf.
Thus:
For those of you who don't read mangledese, it says "One pick-your-own-adventure scarf: I'll sit down with the winner over a cup of coffee, a beer or a glass of wine (my treat) and we'll design a scarf for you. Pick your fiber, texture and colour and I'll make it all come true."
Lisa, the appropriate committee member, asked if I had pictures or samples to go with the bid sheet. I sent some pics off Ravelry, but, of course, I don't keep anything I knit.
This whole exchange took place Thursday afternoon.
Thursday night, I had one of my frighteningly brilliant ideas:# find the school mascot and colours and knit a scarf for a toy version of the mascot in those colours. Y'know... just to have something tangible on the table.
Don't think I wasn't hoping they were the Edison R2D2s.††
Turns out they're the Edison Eagles, and their colours are blue and gold-yellow, much like my beloved Denver Nuggets.‡‡
I woke up early Friday knowing I had to find an eagle.§§ Fortunately, as an inveterate shopper with two nephews, I had a good idea of where to find a stuffed eagle.
Bless you, Kazoo & Company.
I ran to a couple of yarn stores.¶¶
At 2:00, I was home, done with lunch and casting on.
Perhaps the next time I'm on a tight deadline, I'll remember that it's not the best time to try a new technique.
At 1:00 Saturday morning, I gave up my double-knitting project. It wasn't horrible. It was just in dire need of blocking,## and I knew there was no way I'd finish the scarf, soak it and have it completely dry before I had to take it to Lisa on Saturday afternoon.
So... I got up at 7:00 Saturday morning and started knitting a new - simpler - scarf for the eagle.
Ta-daaa!
When we got to the fundraiser at 7:00, there was a bid down on the scarf, which tickled the grits out of me, as I wasn't sure how it would represent in a bidding situation. Brother noted that he was up-bidding it because he decided he needed a scarf.†††
In the end, it turned out someone outbid Brother, so I'm feeling all HKIC and shit.%
When the Auction Committee sobers up and tells me who won the scarf, I'll let y'all know. Sounds like it could be fun.‡‡‡
Plus, I'd already told Brother he had the hook-up even if he didn't win the auction scarf.§§§
So, sing it with me: "STILL A KNITBLOG."
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): "EdFest" in my world has a whole lot more Tom Cavanaugh in it, but that's OK.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Paraphrasing. Brother was more cognizant than that.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Oddly enough, not on my part. The mis-, the dis- OR the drunk.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): As my college boyfriend always said, "Too late."
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): I'm not tooting my own horn. It's not that I have ideas so brilliant as to be frightening. No, it's that the ideas that seem so brilliant pan out to be ironically, sarcastically so and it's frightening I continue to believe in my own brilliance.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Think of it... one tiny Star Wars action figure with a couple of tufts of blue and gold yarn...
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Which led to a funny moment at Fancy Tiger when a very sweet (possibly gay, probably artistic, undoubtedly oblivious to sports) boy asked if he could help and I told him I was looking for fingering- or sport-weight yarn in blue and gold, like Denver Nuggets colours. I could almost hear the panic shutting down his organs. He pointed out every skein of yarn in the right gauge, I suspect hoping I'd make up my own mind about what "Denver Nuggets colours" meant.
§§FOOTNOTE (double confusing): There is nothing quite like waking up on your day off knowing you have to find an eagle.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (double the fun): I found my yarn at the first store, but as my brother says, I have a problem. Plus, I have a very weird upcoming knitting project (foreshadowing!) I wanted to get a jump on. In a very researchy, I-probably-didn't-need-to-buy-six-sets-of-square-needles way.
##FOOTNOTE (double the pounds): AntiM's helpful knitting tip #237: Double-knitting pulls the knitted piece in (much like cabling does) and makes your very straight scarf look like an hourglass.
†††FOOTNOTE (is it Lent again already?): Because His Girl Cindy told him he should get a scarf to go with his new Hugo Boss cashmere jacket and he made grumpy faces and stuff. Then he went to NYC and saw that everybody was wearing a scarf and decided it wasn't a bad idea.
%FOOTNOTE (percented): Head Knitta in Charge, in case you forgot.
‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (Frankenstein's blogster): Or a complete nightmare. But I'm an optimist. Or, as Cornel West said on Twitter, "But I'm not an optimist, that's too thin...I'm a prisoner of #hope."
§§§FOOTNOTE (three esses make a full circle, right?): When we discussed particulars, it boiled down to "a tweedy/heathered charcoal in a muffler length." Then I got an update from Colourmart (home of all things cashmere) Sunday mid-day that said they had a shipment of Hugo Boss cashmere just in. So even though Brother didn't win the scarf, Brother absolutely won a scarf. Here's the yarn; its colour is called "Derby":
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Happy Appreciate Your Mother Day
Mom died five years ago today.
I don't like the world nearly as much without her.
Anytime I sit and think about it, I'm so grateful I got a chance to say goodbye and to tell her how much I love her before she left.
Take a moment and tell someone you love just how much, even if you think they already know.
The less regrets in life, the better.
I don't like the world nearly as much without her.
Anytime I sit and think about it, I'm so grateful I got a chance to say goodbye and to tell her how much I love her before she left.
Take a moment and tell someone you love just how much, even if you think they already know.
The less regrets in life, the better.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Saddest Valentine's Day Ever
My father's wife† sent me a very special Valentine.
"How nice," you may be thinking right about now.
Step back, funk soul brother;$ it *came* that way.
She sent me an EMPTY CHOCOLATE BOX.‡
For the record, my father and the Wicked Stepmother recently went on a two-week Hawaiian cruise.
I had dinner with Dad upon their return, and he told me Peach got me a present, but she drank it before she got home.
Yeah, she thinks she's as funny as I think I am.§
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Henceforth to be knows as The Wicked Stepmother. You'll understand here in a second.
ETA: $FOOTNOTE (dollared): Now I can't get that song out of my head. I earwormed myself.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): And when the Brothers Grimm write about my life, you'll be my witnesses.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Apparently it runs in the family... and we're not even blood. For those of you scoring at home, there was actually a bag of Godiva Gems waiting in the back seat of the car. Y'know... don't cry for me, Valentina.
"How nice," you may be thinking right about now.
Step back, funk soul brother;$ it *came* that way.
She sent me an EMPTY CHOCOLATE BOX.‡
For the record, my father and the Wicked Stepmother recently went on a two-week Hawaiian cruise.
I had dinner with Dad upon their return, and he told me Peach got me a present, but she drank it before she got home.
Yeah, she thinks she's as funny as I think I am.§
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Henceforth to be knows as The Wicked Stepmother. You'll understand here in a second.
ETA: $FOOTNOTE (dollared): Now I can't get that song out of my head. I earwormed myself.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): And when the Brothers Grimm write about my life, you'll be my witnesses.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Apparently it runs in the family... and we're not even blood. For those of you scoring at home, there was actually a bag of Godiva Gems waiting in the back seat of the car. Y'know... don't cry for me, Valentina.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Pretty. Useless.
You are SO glad I found my camera and its slippery cable.
Chronologically, here's the first set of photos I cleaned off the old memory card:
I like botanical gardens. I like taking pictures of plants. I now have a membership to the Denver Botanical Gardens. It's one of the many things I like to do with my Fridays off.
This one looks like it would make an excellent basis for a Smash Putt hole.
But that's another story for another day.
Chronologically, here's the first set of photos I cleaned off the old memory card:
I like botanical gardens. I like taking pictures of plants. I now have a membership to the Denver Botanical Gardens. It's one of the many things I like to do with my Fridays off.
This one looks like it would make an excellent basis for a Smash Putt hole.
But that's another story for another day.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Lost the Camera Cable
That was August.
Found the cable in December, but lost the camera.
Found the camera this week, then realised the cable I found was for an old cell phone.
Bought a new cable today.
Wondering if hundreds of pictures of the Liberace Museum are too passé to post.
Found the cable in December, but lost the camera.
Found the camera this week, then realised the cable I found was for an old cell phone.
Bought a new cable today.
Wondering if hundreds of pictures of the Liberace Museum are too passé to post.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
I Can't Believe I Forgot to Hit Publish
I found this on December 3:
TOTALLY FUNNY KNITTING COMIC
I shared it on Twitter. I also emailed it to Brother, Father and Kelley.†
I CAN'T BELIEVE I FORGOT TO HIT PUBLISH.‡
See... told you I'd be around.§
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Who are less likely to appreciate it as fully as you do.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Old... feeble...
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Vintage, but around. Late, but around. Behind the times, but around.
TOTALLY FUNNY KNITTING COMIC
I shared it on Twitter. I also emailed it to Brother, Father and Kelley.†
I CAN'T BELIEVE I FORGOT TO HIT PUBLISH.‡
See... told you I'd be around.§
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Who are less likely to appreciate it as fully as you do.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Old... feeble...
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Vintage, but around. Late, but around. Behind the times, but around.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
I Have a Story for That
My friend Laura said that was my signature phrase.†
But I do.‡
For 20 years, I have made Chex Mix with M&Ms for the Super Bowl.§ Oh, sure, sometimes I bring something in addition, but always Chex Mix with M&Ms.
Two years ago, we were standing around in Matt's kitchen, reminiscing. Matt brought up that it was our 20th year of Elk Bowl mayhem and we had missed an opportunity to ramp up the festivities for the 20th.
Justice, who is becoming more of an accountant every day,¶ through a series of hand gestures and convoluted explanations, illustrated how the next year would actually be the 20th.
And there was much rejoicing.
Meanwhile, back in my brain...#
Those personalised M&Ms had just come out and I'd been dying to make my own M&Ms. It seemed a match made in silly traditions heaven.
So in January 2010, I ordered the M&Ms with the picture of the elk, the "Elk Bowl XX," "Elks 20 years" and "Elks BBB."††
Five pounds of personalized M&Ms costs about $170.
Just for the record.
So this year, the Supreme Elk sent out an email about the 20th and did we want t-shirts? and let's design some t-shirts and such.‡‡
Justice, frickin' accountant, wrote back to say, "Uh, can you not count? This is the 21st. You missed the 20th."§§
Through a series of emails and convoluted explanations, he illustrated how the previous year had been the 20th.
We'll deal with Justice at the party today.¶¶ Meanwhile, we're saying fuck it## - we don't remember half of them anyway,††† so who cares if it's 20 or 21?
Happy Super Bowl, everybody.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Along with, "I could make that," and "I have this CD."
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Have a story, that is.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): For the love of all that is holy, please sprinkle a whole flock of trademark and copyright and registered trademark stuff on that. There's enough proprietary material in there to keep a flotilla of lawyers happy for years.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): This is not a compliment.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Where it's dark and quiet. You should consider vacationing in there.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Beer Babes Brotherhood
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): "Such" mostly revolving around "t-shirts."
§§FOOTNOTE (rage... swirling...): Must... control... fist of death...
¶¶FOOTNOTE (quack quack): I'm guessing it'll involve Duck Tape and nudity. His, not ours.
##FOOTNOTE (pound the Justice!): Mostly, we're saying, "Fuck him."
†††FOOTNOTE (I can see your house from here): Turns out that's the theme of the t-shirt we eventually agreed upon.
But I do.‡
For 20 years, I have made Chex Mix with M&Ms for the Super Bowl.§ Oh, sure, sometimes I bring something in addition, but always Chex Mix with M&Ms.
Two years ago, we were standing around in Matt's kitchen, reminiscing. Matt brought up that it was our 20th year of Elk Bowl mayhem and we had missed an opportunity to ramp up the festivities for the 20th.
Justice, who is becoming more of an accountant every day,¶ through a series of hand gestures and convoluted explanations, illustrated how the next year would actually be the 20th.
And there was much rejoicing.
Meanwhile, back in my brain...#
Those personalised M&Ms had just come out and I'd been dying to make my own M&Ms. It seemed a match made in silly traditions heaven.
So in January 2010, I ordered the M&Ms with the picture of the elk, the "Elk Bowl XX," "Elks 20 years" and "Elks BBB."††
Five pounds of personalized M&Ms costs about $170.
Just for the record.
So this year, the Supreme Elk sent out an email about the 20th and did we want t-shirts? and let's design some t-shirts and such.‡‡
Justice, frickin' accountant, wrote back to say, "Uh, can you not count? This is the 21st. You missed the 20th."§§
Through a series of emails and convoluted explanations, he illustrated how the previous year had been the 20th.
We'll deal with Justice at the party today.¶¶ Meanwhile, we're saying fuck it## - we don't remember half of them anyway,††† so who cares if it's 20 or 21?
Happy Super Bowl, everybody.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Along with, "I could make that," and "I have this CD."
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Have a story, that is.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): For the love of all that is holy, please sprinkle a whole flock of trademark and copyright and registered trademark stuff on that. There's enough proprietary material in there to keep a flotilla of lawyers happy for years.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): This is not a compliment.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Where it's dark and quiet. You should consider vacationing in there.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Beer Babes Brotherhood
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): "Such" mostly revolving around "t-shirts."
§§FOOTNOTE (rage... swirling...): Must... control... fist of death...
¶¶FOOTNOTE (quack quack): I'm guessing it'll involve Duck Tape and nudity. His, not ours.
##FOOTNOTE (pound the Justice!): Mostly, we're saying, "Fuck him."
†††FOOTNOTE (I can see your house from here): Turns out that's the theme of the t-shirt we eventually agreed upon.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Islands in the Stream of Consciousness
It could be one of *those* blogposts.†
A few things‡ have happened since last I (really) posted.
*ahem*
I could get seriously philosophical here, because, as I was lining up my excuse ducks,§ I realised how telling they really are.
My first excuse duck?¶
Werk.#
I suspect I genuinely have more work than I used to, now that I'm a Paid Hack for the Corporate Machine, but I can say for a fact that my time is parcelled out very differently. I have vacation time. And sick time. And hours.
Practically, it's not that much different from when I was contract. Philosophically, I feel a much greater sense of obligation.
Plus, the stress is enormously greater, what with expense reporting and million-dollar deadlines and million-dollar deadlines and Hans and United Way campaigns and the impending Oompa Loompa Revolution and stuff.
Duck!††
Blogui.‡‡
Steve. §§
And Nathan.¶¶
Wii.##
I lost my camera.†††
But I now have a lot of stories.
So I'll be around.‡‡‡
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): One may wonder that there's a blogpost at all. One may have strongly hinted on Twitter about one's suspiciously absent blogposts. You know who you are.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): One. Two. 2010.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): You know, so you can shoot them down.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): It's a good, all-purpose duck, which is a real phrase about real ducks in duck shows and one of Steve's best-loved terms. More on Steve later. But in case you wanted to know, some ducks are raised for down, some for meat and a good, all-purpose duck has qualities that make it good for both. You're welcome.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Which differs from "work" in the face you make when you say it.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): That's the second duck, but who's counting.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Occasional bouts of techui, under which I shamefully ignored Twitter and occasionally email for abnormally wide swaths of time.
§§FOOTNOTE (time swirls when you're having fun): Because we've been doing lots of fun stuff, and fun stuff takes *time*.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (is that a Wii controler? EEK!): Who bribed me to Vegas with martinis and sushi, then moved to New Zealand, leaving me bereft. I was totally reft before that.
##FOOTNOTE (bomp bomp): Wii is totally kicking my ass. Not in the way you're thinking. I'm totally intimidated by it and, even though My Friends at Nintendo have sent me games and a disco light and a cool game involving yarn and felt, I still play more on the nephews' Wii than on my own. Because my Wii scares me.
†††FOOTNOTE (very, very cross): Seriously. All my Vegas photos - including the Liberace Museum, which is now closed - plus the Christmas Eve Ugly Sweater Party and an assortment of other worthy subjects. I think the car ate it. The car ate Kate's CDs; we tore the car apart looking for them, but the car just spit them out two years later when I was looking for the cell phone I'm convinced it ate.
‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (stitched together like Frankenstein's monster): I'd do more now, only I received what I see as barely-veiled threats should I not post something soon.
A few things‡ have happened since last I (really) posted.
*ahem*
I could get seriously philosophical here, because, as I was lining up my excuse ducks,§ I realised how telling they really are.
My first excuse duck?¶
Werk.#
I suspect I genuinely have more work than I used to, now that I'm a Paid Hack for the Corporate Machine, but I can say for a fact that my time is parcelled out very differently. I have vacation time. And sick time. And hours.
Practically, it's not that much different from when I was contract. Philosophically, I feel a much greater sense of obligation.
Plus, the stress is enormously greater, what with expense reporting and million-dollar deadlines and million-dollar deadlines and Hans and United Way campaigns and the impending Oompa Loompa Revolution and stuff.
Duck!††
Blogui.‡‡
Steve. §§
And Nathan.¶¶
Wii.##
I lost my camera.†††
But I now have a lot of stories.
So I'll be around.‡‡‡
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): One may wonder that there's a blogpost at all. One may have strongly hinted on Twitter about one's suspiciously absent blogposts. You know who you are.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): One. Two. 2010.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): You know, so you can shoot them down.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): It's a good, all-purpose duck, which is a real phrase about real ducks in duck shows and one of Steve's best-loved terms. More on Steve later. But in case you wanted to know, some ducks are raised for down, some for meat and a good, all-purpose duck has qualities that make it good for both. You're welcome.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Which differs from "work" in the face you make when you say it.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): That's the second duck, but who's counting.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Occasional bouts of techui, under which I shamefully ignored Twitter and occasionally email for abnormally wide swaths of time.
§§FOOTNOTE (time swirls when you're having fun): Because we've been doing lots of fun stuff, and fun stuff takes *time*.
¶¶FOOTNOTE (is that a Wii controler? EEK!): Who bribed me to Vegas with martinis and sushi, then moved to New Zealand, leaving me bereft. I was totally reft before that.
##FOOTNOTE (bomp bomp): Wii is totally kicking my ass. Not in the way you're thinking. I'm totally intimidated by it and, even though My Friends at Nintendo have sent me games and a disco light and a cool game involving yarn and felt, I still play more on the nephews' Wii than on my own. Because my Wii scares me.
†††FOOTNOTE (very, very cross): Seriously. All my Vegas photos - including the Liberace Museum, which is now closed - plus the Christmas Eve Ugly Sweater Party and an assortment of other worthy subjects. I think the car ate it. The car ate Kate's CDs; we tore the car apart looking for them, but the car just spit them out two years later when I was looking for the cell phone I'm convinced it ate.
‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (stitched together like Frankenstein's monster): I'd do more now, only I received what I see as barely-veiled threats should I not post something soon.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Some NFL Teams Should be Pink*
I am NOT going to talk about what happened at the Broncos Raiders game last week.†
I will, however, make a brief‡ observation on the NFL.
Many of the teams that most need to be pink aren't.§
When all the snide and snark drains away, I still want this:
I have all kinds of good Nintendo stuff,¶ Liberace stuff,# mascara stuff†† and maybe even a bit of knitting stuff.‡‡
Really... stay tuned!§§
*FOOTNOTE (asterisked... no, seriously): That's "pink" as in "Victoria's Secret," not "Pink" as in "Get This Party Started."
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Brother texted me: "What the hell happened? I came in, it was 0-0, I put the groceries away, it was 14-0" While I was answering him, trying to find different ways to say "suck," they scored again. Dr. Doom opted for donuts at Safeway as a viable fun alternative to the game. OK, now I'm really not going to talk about it. And it truly takes a saint not to bitch about such a debacle.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Look how funny I am! I made a panty pun!
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Detroit Lions, I'm looking at you.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Wii! (and in my head that's "wheeeee!" so it's another sort of pun, just doesn't translate well to print)
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Really.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Really.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Shock and awe!
§§FOOTNOTE (the mind boggles. Twice.): This blog is what RSS feed was MADE for.
I will, however, make a brief‡ observation on the NFL.
Many of the teams that most need to be pink aren't.§
When all the snide and snark drains away, I still want this:
I have all kinds of good Nintendo stuff,¶ Liberace stuff,# mascara stuff†† and maybe even a bit of knitting stuff.‡‡
Really... stay tuned!§§
*FOOTNOTE (asterisked... no, seriously): That's "pink" as in "Victoria's Secret," not "Pink" as in "Get This Party Started."
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Brother texted me: "What the hell happened? I came in, it was 0-0, I put the groceries away, it was 14-0" While I was answering him, trying to find different ways to say "suck," they scored again. Dr. Doom opted for donuts at Safeway as a viable fun alternative to the game. OK, now I'm really not going to talk about it. And it truly takes a saint not to bitch about such a debacle.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Look how funny I am! I made a panty pun!
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Detroit Lions, I'm looking at you.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Wii! (and in my head that's "wheeeee!" so it's another sort of pun, just doesn't translate well to print)
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Really.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Really.
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Shock and awe!
§§FOOTNOTE (the mind boggles. Twice.): This blog is what RSS feed was MADE for.
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