Yeah, Yeah, More Knitting Stuff &
The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of
I promise, as soon as I have a knitting blog, I'll leave the rest of this space to the occasional political rant, daily inanities, or the retelling of some of my weird dreams (like the last two nights...).
First up: Knitting
Well, Kat and Jenny are the only ones who've weighed in on the knit blog naming thing. I have always been rather proud of Boogie Knits, but found out today that one already exists. Boo! Kat suggested KnitPicky, which is so unbelievably perfect for me. I *love* it. I did, however, find reference to some girl who is using it. BUT, I may use it anyway. I tried googling it and it didn't come up. I don't know her, and we may never even run into each other online! Unless I get some really mind-blowingly good suggestion soon, I'm running with it.
A few things to let you know that I'm not entirely nutty about knitting. First there is this yarn. Ugh. I would never, ever make anything for someone out of this. Even someone I didn't like. It looks like the aftermath of clown vs. blender wrapped up in twine. Nooooooooo. (And this is in spite of my general antipathy for clowns!)
You should order one of these. Seriously. It's for a great cause, and it'll be beautiful. Heck, I'll make it for you if you buy it!
Also? I'm not nearly this obsessive or, you know, crazy. "What's your scarf made out of?" "Fido." [shiver]
Next up: Dreams
So Tuesday night/Wednesday morning I dreamt that I was working for Donald Trump. Yep, the Donald and I were working together on real estate projects. (I think it had to do with building a mall) In my dream I was really surprised that he was working with me so directly. I had expected that I would never actually see him. For some reason he'd had me recruited to work for him, so I figured I'd meet him, but I didn't think we'd chat and he'd get so involved on my projects. So after several business meetings, we met for lunch at California Pizza Kitchen in Irvine, and I found out that he was my father. Suddenly I understood everything: he was grooming me to take over the business. Not bad, eh? I don't remember what else happened after that in my dream.
And last night/this morning I dreamt that I was going to Texas with my friend Shalom. Texas was adjacent to California; basically where Vegas is in relation to L.A. We were taking a shuttle over there. While I was waiting for the shuttle (it was really a small plane), I was sewing these teeny little satiny purses. They were really nice and I was very proud of them. They looked really professional, but I did them in minutes. So Shalom and I took our shuttle (a one-hour flight) and when I got there I realized that I'd left my best satiny purse (star-shaped) at the airport in Orange County, so I flew back to get it.
When I got to the airport, The Boy was there and told me we were going to a movie. We went to the movie and sat down by my mom, stepdad, and all my sisters. Then The Boy told me that I needed to go get my mom something to drink because she was giving birth. I looked over and she was indeed having a baby realllllly quietly, so as not to disturb the movie. I left to get her a bottled water, came back, and she was done, watching the movie again. The Boy handed me the baby to take home. This happened 4 or 5 more times during the movie. I would run to get her some water, come back, and she'd be done. Then I would have to take the baby and run home, only to come back in time for the next one to be born. Around the sixth time, I was in the lobby of the movie theatre and my mom came out to see if I was getting the water. I said, "I thought you were having another baby!" She said, "No, this time it was Lennifer." I asked her who 'Lennifer' was, and she looked at me like I was nuts and said, "Lennifer is your sister." We went back in and I looked at Lennifer, all cuddled up next to a man who I knew in my dream was her husband and she smiled at me. Suddenly I realized that she was the first of those babies that was born in the movie theatre when The Boy and I first went in. Then I woke up. WEIRD!
And P.S. The Comforter Queen has now brought home somewhere in the neighborhood of 20--yes, I said TWENTY, comforters. At least other neighbors are starting to wonder what's going on now, too. !!!!
Other possible knit blog titles that I thought of include:
On pins & needles
Purls & Prejudice
Pride & Purliness
Sticks & string may make my day
The Yarn Whisperer
A good yarn
A stitch in time
Knitter take all
See Steph Knit
Just one more row (*this one really makes sense if you are a knitter, this is our mantra)
Hooked on yarn
Adventures in Baby-knitting
The problems with that last one are a) I don't knit using babies, I use yarn; b) it provokes a disturbing image of winding babies up into skeins c) I already have a strange association with baby oil coming from squeezing baby arms, so the idea of making a knit-worthy fabric from babies is....just plain wrong.
So, what do ya think?
Happy Birthday Lexi!
Today is my littlest sister's birthday. Today Alexis Kayla Rose Rivera is 5 years old.
I love you, Lexi!
When Playing Doctor Made You Rich!
When I was a kid, I loved to play The Game of Life. I will admit that I used to cheat--but only when I played with my sister, Heather--so that I could get to be a doctor. In the game, it seemed like the doctor made the most money--$50,000! As a result of playing the game, for a good long time I thought that that was the most money a grown-up could make in the real world, and if you had to be a doctor to do it, then so be it, I was going to be a doctor.
$50,000 was the biggest dollar figure I could even imagine. When I found out that my mom made less than 1/2 of that as a secretary, I knew that it was because she hadn't hung in there to get her M.D. I wasn't going to make the same mistake!
This is probably why it came as such a shock to me later that CEOs of companies could easily make millions of dollars--and they weren't saving anyone's lives, either! It was a very disappointing discovery. That was when I decided not to be a doctor. What was the point if you had to do all that studying in college and med school (one whole extra spin from the guy or girl who decided to go straight into the working world) and didn't wind up making the most money in the whole wide world? [Maybe some other similarly disappointed kids are responsible for the growth of HMOs?]
Of course, I also thought you had to be a grown-up, married with kids, to make that kind of money. What other kinds of warped worldviews did we get from board games when we were children?! Obviously Monopoly is where Donald Trump learned real estate, but how about the rest of us? I'm curious.
I'm A Lover, Not a Fighter
I just don't think The Boy and I are cut out for fighting. On Friday night he came home from coffee with a friend and I was in bed. I'd been home for about 30 minutes and was just reading a little. He started griping at me about not doing some stuff around the house (to be fair, he was in the right and I knew it). I didn't like the way he was talking to me and I didn't feel like getting out of bed to address any of the things I hadn't done, so I just turned out the light, turned my back to him and ignored him. He kept listing my many flaws--which tends to happen when you're upset and being ignored-- and then he turned his back to me to go to sleep.
I actually had a lot of trouble falling asleep, but if you've ever been in this situation you know that there's no way you'll be the first person to admit to being wrong. Eventually I fell asleep, but I woke up about 2 hours later covered in sweat and feeling horrible. Around that same time The Boy woke up coughing and choking on some mysterious (and possibly non-existent) substance. We both immediately apologized and then slept soundly for the rest of the night. Hmmm. I guess I'll be forced to live a life of taking responsibility, sharing the burden and sleeping peacefully. How unfair.
Yesterday morning I was trying to clean a virus off my laptop so that I could check my work email prior to a dentist appointment. When I leaned over to plug in the laptop, I looked down into Puff Kitty's (a.k.a. Max, my cat) water fountain and inside it was the biggest bug I have ever seen. Granted, there are probably bigger bugs out there in the rainforests, or Florida, but I live in SoCal. We don't have that many big bugs here, people!
At first I was convinced it was a water bug, which is like a gigantic cockroach that lives in the sewers and pipes. When I was little one of them made its way up into the bathroom sink. But when I looked up water bugs online, it didn't look like any of the pictures. I spent a good long time watching that thing in Max's water dish, waiting for it to attack me, making sure it didn't move, dragging it's 2.5" body with it's equally long antennae after me. I left messages on The Boy's cell phone, imploring him to remove it when he got home from work (since I eventually determined that it was likely dead--after it didn't move for two hours, I was willing to go out on that limb).
Later it occurred to me that a water bug would probably not have drowned in a couple of inches of water. It had to be some other kind of bug. Maybe just a GIGANTONORMOUS cockroach that mysteriously made its way under our front door and across the 3-4' feet to the water dish before meeting its extremely (IMHO) timely demise. What really grossed me out during all this (besides, you know, GIANT BUG!) was when Maximus, my oh-so-fearless cat (he's afraid of his own reflection, the vaccuum, and people) went to the water fountain and drank from the waterfall area, a mere inch from the ginormous bug. EEEEEEWWWWW. (Incidentally, I spent yesterday all grossed out everytime I thought about it. Tummy ache. Goose bumps. Chills. One might say that I am not a bug fan.) Well, my genius of a cat never seemed to register the bug that was a good twice the size of his paw. Ack!
Later when I told this to The Boy, he commented that maybe Max was like a Tyrannosaurus Rex and couldn't see things unless they moved. This would make sense. He won't usually play with his toys unless we play with him--then they are moving. He only seems to notice bugs when they are crawling or buzzing by him (like flies or ants). So he could be right up next to the grosstastic creature and not see it because it wasn't moving. Yuck.
I came up with another theory, though. Maybe Max is like Jason Bourne. He only responds when his life or the lives of those he loves are threatened. Maybe the giant crawly thing was headed toward the bedroom where I sleep, and my hero Max flung it into the water dish, holding it down with his sizable white paw until it stopped struggling. His apparent lack of interest or concern with the huge and disgusting bug was just a cover so that I wouldn't suspect his mad super-hero like assassin skills. After all, Puss 'n Boots was a hired killer. Why not Max?
Woo-wee, we saw The Bourne Supremacy on Sunday and it was driving me crazy that I recognized the hot Russian Secret Service guy but couldn't place him. Finally I realized where I knew him from. While Karl Urban looks like this in The Bourne Supremacy, I had last seen him looking like this.
Books Are Good For You
Lastly, you didn't think I'd get through a whole post after 4 days without some kind of political mention, did you? Well this one's a quickie. Just a cool new bookclub that I heard about yesterday, called Progressive Book Club. Check it out if you're interested in books by progressive thinkers, activists, and authors re: "politics, cultural diversity, social and economic policy, global issues, and current events." I'm looking forward to it!
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do. But first, I have to go make sure that the spawn of humongomendous bugs are not crawling all over me. Ick! Ick! Ick!