Everybody Loves Saturday Night

Hello from Chicago!

As I waited for my uncle to pick me up from O'Hare (the finest airport our country has to offer, even though they delay/cancel flights as soon as one flake falls to the ground...just overly cautious, I guess, kinda like my family), I spotted a young woman wearing a t-shirt that said "ROCK" and featuring the devil horns. I would have asked where she got the shirt, but she was giving me a hostile look because I was sorta staring at her chest.

This place is overpopulated with Canadian Geese, and I'm kinda excited about that. It doesn't take much, does it?

My bath was FABULOUS. I may take another one.

My cousins, brother and I went to see Pirates of the Caribbean last night at the discount theater. Discount theater in Naperville = $2 movies. TWO DOLLARS. ("I want my two dollars!") Whee! Great movie, too. Very piratey.

(The REAL Em taped Survivor and we watched it when we got back. Our jaws are still on the floor. I'd heard spoilers about a BIG LIE that no one else on the island would know about until they watched the show...guess that was it.)

We're still trying to decide what to see tomorrow, though. I've heard that Master and Commander is a good movie, but to be honest, I have no desire to see it. I think we're leaning toward Elf, although I'm going to make a push for Shattered Glass. Not exactly a holiday movie, but...

The house smells like stuffing.

Thanksgiving: a great time to be with family and friends and to reflect on what we all have to be grateful for. I am grateful for my grandmother's wild rice recipe. On pain of death I am not allowed to give it out, but it involves stewed tomatoes, black olives, and a topping of melted cheese and it is the best thing about Thanksgiving. We are expecting a large enough crowd today to warrant a doubling of the recipe, and I am still trying to form an alliance with my cousins and brother to commandeer one of the bowls for ourselves. I think we can do it.

NOTE: I wrote this last night, but Blogger went postal before I could publish.

In 48 hours I will be in Chicago. Well, a southwestern suburb of Chicago that has seen so much growth in the last 10 years that it really should rank as its own city.

My favorite descriptive phrase, one which I did not invent, used to described the vast urban sprawl of the Midwest, and specifically the proliferation of strip malls and one-stop shopping areas (the ones with the Mega Wal-Marts, Old Navys (Old Navies?), Applebees, etc.) that all look alike, all with highly illogical parking lots: The Wide Sargasphalt Sea. God, I wish I'd thought that one up.

In 48 hours I shall have taken my first bubble bath in over a year. A YEAR.

Note to self: check to see whether aunt or cousin actually has bubble bath. If not, bring own.

In 48 hours I will be surrounded by family I adore.

Last year I was still a relatively new veggie, and Thanksgiving (with my dad's side of the fam) near about killed me. This year I suggested to my aunt that, as there would be three vegetarians at the Thanksgiving table this year--me and both my cousins--perhaps we (meaning my cousins and I) could make ourselves a little Tofurky or something. Imagine my shock upon hearing that my cousins have recinded, either entirely or in part, their vegetarianism. "So it's just me, then?" I faltered. "'Fraid so," replied my aunt. I decided a little veggie patty would be OK and still tasty with stuffing. My aunt, however, in her infinite generosity, went out and bought something called a "Celebration Roast" just for me. I've never had a Celebration Roast, so if you have and think it's totally nasty, please don't tell me. I would rather go into this thinking it's going to be the awesomest fake meat ever.

In 48 hours I will still be thinking fondly of Paul Newman's Double Chocolate Mint Chip Cookies.

In 48 hours I will be conferring with my cousins over what holiday movie to attend. This is a tradition, started when my cousins were in junior high/high school (I am 10 years older than the oldest), and there has always been a fun cartoon or fantasy movie to watch. I love that they still want to hang out with my brother and me, and still want to see cheesy-fun movies with us. But with no Pixar or Harry Potter movie, we're at a loss--all the other movies look impossibly bad or overly corporate (redundancy? Word Police?). If only Return of the King were starting up this weekend...but then my cousin the REAL Em would never leave the theater. Come to think of it, neither would I. And Mike would never forgive me, because we have an understanding about the LoTR movies.

The Fellowship of the Ring was our first date. It was in early April 2002, after the movie had been re-released in theaters with the added trailer for The Two Towers(a REAL trailer, at the end of the movie rather than in the previews). I had resisted seeing it the first time around, and I have no good excuse--other than I wasn't a big fan of the books when I was a kid. Mike talked me into seeing it. I was blown away completely, a total convert in two hours. Mike's last visit to NYC before moving out here coincided with the release of The Two Towers, and we arranged to see the midnight showing on the day of release. What fun that was. We're planning on doing the same thing for Return of the King. We just need to get our grubby hands on the four-disc DVD set of Two Towers and have a marathon viewing session first. So yeah, neither one of us remembers the exact date of our first date, but we remember the movie, so that's what we use as our anniversary. I have no idea what we're going to do when it's all over.

I did something silly over the weekend. I went into a local toy store to browse--just to browse. This was my artist's date, for those of you keeping track. I love toy stores, but I don't have kids and I don't know anyone with kids and so I never feel like I have a real excuse to go in. The best thing about this toy store is that it is, for lack of a better term, old school. And by that I mean it sells toys and games that are at least 10 years old. No new fangled Trivial Pursuit editions for this store, no--it's got the Baby Boomer card set that my family got back in 1986. I love this store. I spent a lot of time in the games section, tracing the letters of Monopoly and marvelling at the California Raisins Colorforms box (I kid you not), and wondering what I would buy if I didn't think it was too goofy, wondering if I would get too bored with a Lite Brite (lord, I always wanted one of those but was always rebuffed by the "I don't want to pick up or step on all those little pieces!")...and then I spotted it.

Mousetrap. Hands down my favorite game as a child, with its complex Rube Goldberg contraption that you get to build as you play. A game of complete luck, but which also teaches children the valuable lesson of reading instruction manuals. "Fit Base A into slots." Apparently these days the game is played with cheese pieces that work like money--you pick up cheese pieces as you go around the board and then you can use those pieces to manipulate your opponent onto the Cheese Wheel so that you can set the trap in motion. I do not recall cheese pieces being part of the game I played as a child. I stood there, staring at the box, hugging it to me and thinking, "It would be really silly to buy this game. This game brought me much happiness as a child. I would love to play this game again. It would be really silly to buy it." I bought it. Mike and I played last night after he got back from work. It is just as goofy as I remember, and my mouse got captured, but we had so much fun.

What was your favorite game as a child?

Given the current retro-climate of 80s song lyrics (166! dang. See, 131 is a respectable level of geekness. 166 is a "living in the woodwork" level of geekness. I'm kidding, Ann. Your friend must've known it ALL, and that's impressive!) and legwarmer knitting, I figured Kenny Loggins was appropriate.

Speaking of...have you heard about/seen this?



Entertainment Weekly sent me an email inviting me to enter the contest to win this game. Unfortunately, it's a drawing kind of contest, and not a trivia contest, so I have put myself in the hands of fate. I think this would be a very fun game to have when one is spending time with friends in a lake cabin of some sort, somewhere in Canada maybe, should it be raining or something.

Becky has offered to make a legwarmer knitalong button! Thank you, Becky!

In an effort to teach myself more about web design and stuff, I am working on a button for the Cupid Exchange.

I feel like I'm in a little slump. That should come as no surprise to you, since I've been complaining about being tired, etc. Writing slumps I am perfectly used to, and I'm getting better at ignoring the goblin-talk. Knitting slumps, however, are relatively new to me. How could I get sick of something I love to do so much? I think it's partly because of the deadline I'm facing to get the presents done. Why did I think that I could whip out 7 pairs of socks by Thanksgiving? I am so tired of knitting socks right now that I am bouncing from project to project, but I don't stay for very long on any particular project because I want to finish that second sock for my uncle. I KNOW that my family will not mind if the presents aren't done. It's all a matter of pride at this point.

I promised lots of pictures, so here are the Meilenweit socks for my cousin, finished a few weeks ago:



They are HUGE and I really hope they fit.

And now, the sock I am currently stalled on, for my uncle:



After working with sock yarn that creates funky stripe patterns, I am finding these rather dull, which further explains my reluctance to work on them.

On to the fun things. Fellow babies, Boooooogaaaaa!



booga.

(I can think of only one person who's going to get that.)

The i-cord is almost done. I plan on commandeering my aunt and uncle's washing machine when I get to Chicago, so I won't be able to post post-felting pictures until I get back. It's my virgin felting voyage.

Knitting the bag took no time at all. A wonderful, soothing project for a wonderful, soothing yarn.

Oh, speaking of Kureyon: I was riding the 1 train up to Wash. Heights on Thursday and fell into conversation with a lovely woman who was intrigued and impressed with the multidirectional scarf I was working on (sorry, can't post pictures of that because it's part of Mike's Christmas present and even though he's seen the beginning of it I want to keep the finished product as much of a surprise as possible. I've got two more triangles to go, though!). I asked if she wanted to see the yarn, and it was funny: I could tell she really wanted to but some sense of propriety was holding her back. "It's really special," I coaxed, until finally she agreed, and I pulled out the skein for her to hold. She immediately asked where to buy it. I directed her to the T-boys. I'm not just a yarn ho. I'm a yarn pimp.

Let's see, what else? ah! ze sparkly legwarmers:



I'm making mine to have a thigh-high option, which is why it's got that wonky curve to it. I'm using Cascade 220 #4002 (charcoal gray) held together with one strand of Karabella Gossamer #6182 (a kid mohair/nylon/polyester blend), striped with Cascade 220 #9424 + S. Charles Ritratto #70 (another mohair/poly blend). Yup, I am making the world's most indulgent legwarmers. I didn't plan it that way, but wow, am I happy with what I've got going on so far. I haven't worked on these much because I am planning to take them with me to Chicago.

I think I would like to make a simple raglan sweater out of the charcoal gray Cascade. Mike's got a sweater that I am constantly borrowing, just a simple roll-neck raglan pullover, and every time I wear it someone who knows I knit asks if I made it. I would like to be able to say, "Yes. Yes I did."

The sun is out.

I didn't mean that I thought the medium of the "I'm getting married" message was inappropriate, but that I marvel at the ease with which information travels these days. Now that I think about it, yeah, a phone call would've been nice. Then again, on my most generous days I consider the IM forum to be like the print version of the phone call, so, whatever.

Yes. I am tired. Feeling healthy, but very very tired. It is That Time of the Semester. I reached the point where I think of how much further I need to go not in terms of weeks, but of actual class periods. I have five more classes in NJ, period. I have slightly more in Washington Heights. I expend all my energy on the classes, creating decent lesson plans and maintaining the enthusiasm to get through the classes themselves. I require two different forms of energy for each class due to the different natures of the courses, and it requires energy to make the shift between them. I am looking forward to not having to make that shift. As I fed The Scout this morning, I fantasized about having Wednesdays to myself. That midweek break. How luxurious.

Fortunately, it's a Wash. Heights day, which means I stand a very good chance of being at least entertained by my students. They really are a fun group.

Oh, and also? Novembers kinda suck when you live in a place that has all four seasons. Have we had an entire day of sunshine this month? I mean the kind of day in which you wake up and the sky is cloudless, and the sun shines until it sets. I think the closest we've come is "mostly cloudy," which doesn't count for me. I love being in a place with all four seasons, I love winter days when the sun shines and makes the snow all sparkly, and I am willing to put up with weeks of grayness (or greyness if you prefer), but they do get me down.

I intend to saturate this page with pictures this weekend.

I just got this IM from a very good friend of mine: "Hey there, I'm getting married!" I am thrilled for her, but I have to stop and ponder the wonders of technology here. I'm slightly irritated by instant messaging. It interrupts my very important web surfing and blog reading. On a more serious note, it interrupts my email writing and blog writing. I know that I can indicate that I am "busy," or that I can appear offline, but I usually forget to switch Messenger to show that status. Fortunately, I don't have many online "buddies," so my irritations are kept to a minimum. And then, there are always occasions like this, when truly joyous and momentous news is able to be passed from Oregon to New York without any long distance charges.

I wonder what to knit them.

I want to go back to bed for the rest of the day.

The force of my exhaustion yesterday took me by surprise. I made it through Gilmore Girls, although I'm not sure how, but then I crashed, and crashed hard. I didn't even hear the phone ring and it has an ear-splitting ring, and I didn't hear the message left last night. An hour later, I got up and remembered that I needed to change the sheets on the bed. So I did, but I was still so tired and so out of it that I had to take breaks. I remember thinking, "Chronic Fatigue Syndrome?" because that's how my mind works. I finally got the bed made and crawled into it without changing out of my clothes. I didn't hear Mike come in from his poetry group meeting (sounds like an AA type thing, doesn't it?). I don't remember my dreams from last night and I STILL don't feel rested or alert. On top of all that, it's raining AGAIN. Every week, at least one of the days I have to go to NJ, it rains.

Speaking of NJ, I sent the email informing the department that I would not be returning next semester. Thinking about sending the email was a little frightening, because I was focusing on the dramatic drop in my income. Actually writing and sending the email felt liberating. Interesting.

And that's all the time I've got this morning. I can't tell you how happy I am over the interest in the Secret Cupid Knitting Exchange. Let's keep hashing out the details and plan on the actual name drawing to take place sometime in, say, January?

Am I truly becoming a more efficient person? I got home from doing that seven-hour grammar seminar (which was OK, despite my usual flakiness in trying to answer questions and persistence in getting confused about things, which I believe caused a few people to leave early. Whatever. I really dug the middle-of-the-road guy who decided he wants to write so he can quit his soul-sucking job in sales) to resume...I got home from the seminar and all the energy I told myself I would have to finish grading papers and prepare for the next class had completely disappeared. I watched TV. I watched The Simpsons and was astounded at how good it was. I have always been partial to the Lisa-centric episodes (duh) but this one, in which she's elected student president is promptly used as a pawn by the school principal and superintendent so that they can rid the school of art and music (and gym, but no one cares), was a brilliant spoof of Evita ("Don't Cry For Me, Kids of Springfield"). Yes, that's right: I used "brilliant" to describe a post-1999 episode of The Simpsons. It had everything: a clearly delineated plot, the right amount of bizarre yet amusing non-sequiturs, and a political agenda couched in satire. Principal Skinner: "We have no funds for extracurricular programs. Are you willing to spend an extra $1.27 in taxes per year to fund these programs?" Homer: [spitting in disgust] "No! I'm saving up for a speedboat." Like I said, brilliant. Color me jiggered, part one.

(and we pause here so I can look up "jiggered" in the dictionary, as I just realized I don't really know what it means and have a sneaking suspicion it has racist undertones, ala "gypped." Oh, for Pete's sake: "jigger: 1. one that jigs or operates a jig." How helpful ... ah, here it is: "to jerk up and down; to alter or rearrange esp. by manipulating.")

So, no work last night. I woke up at 6 a.m. and promptly set about reading blogs (after writing my pages, of course). At 7:30, I started planning the class. At 8:30, I started writing in my final comments on papers and assigning grades (I had marked them up previously). In between grading I searched for an exercise sheet on subject-verb agreement and printed it out. That brought me to 9:30 and I don't have to be on campus until 12:30. Amazing. That's a hell of a lot of work done before noon. I've never really paid attention to the amount of time it took to do things before. Color me jiggered, part two.

I need to give a shout out to the guy who helped me at the W. 72nd St. Kinko's yesterday. I went in to make a gazillion copies of the handouts and exercises for the seminar and not only did he help me traverse the set up for double-sided, collated, stapled copies and how to request a sample set to make sure it's copying correctly, but he double-checked the paper levels in my copier and decided to fill 'em up. If that weren't enough, about four or five of the packages of paper he opened contained paper that was creased, and therefore unusable for copies. He made some comment about all the trees sacrificing themselves for nothing (they don't recycle at Kinko's? They must) and I said that I was sure he could find someone to take the paper off his hands. He said he would gladly give it away. So I left Kinko's with not only my copies but about a ream's worth of paper! Like I care it's creased. It was a huge score.

Right after we arranged this little deal, two women who had very rigid ideas about both "customer service" and "self service" walked in and gave my paper angel far too much grief for a Sunday morning. One of them wanted him to do everything for her, at a self-service copier, and when he tried to explain that he would be happy to talk her through the steps but she would have to go to the counter for full service, she got outraged and demanded to see the manager. They completely ganged up on this poor kid, claiming that he needed lessons in how to deal with customers, blah blah blah...and thankfully the manager stuck up for him. And the women just wouldn't let it go. They continued to snip and complain and make snide aside remarks that were clearly intended for my angel's ears...I made sure to tell the manager that his employee was doing a great job, and when I was ready to leave, I marched over to where he was still trapped by the women and loudly thanked him for his wonderful help. I don't get people.

Since I don't want to end on that note, I'll leave you with an idea I've been bouncing around for a couple weeks. What would you say to a Secret Santa Knitting Exchange? Wait, wait--a Secret Santa Knitting Exchange that happens in February (after we're recovered from holiday knitting)! OK, so a Secret CUPID Knitting Exchange? Here's my thinking: I love presents. I know that some of the Yahoo knit lists do exchanges, but there are so many people on that list...and I'm not reading the list anymore anyway...and I'd rather do something slightly more intimate with the people I've gotten to know--and some of the ones who lurk about. And I love presents. I also love sending surprise presents. My original idea was that we would draw names (somehow--I don't know how that would be done online) and then make something for the person we got. But yarn is expensive and knitting is time-consuming and we're all (mostly) on strict budgets. So what I thought was that we could either delve into stash yarn (and get REALLY creative!) or limit our spending to under $10 (or is that too much?). Something small, cheap, and easy, in other words. (I can hear you now: "JUST LIKE US!" Hahahahahaha)

Is that something you'd be interested in? Wanna help me figure out how to actually DO it?

The legwarmer knitalong has officially begun. We need a button, I think. Anyone got the talent and time? I would really appreciate it.

If you cruise on over to Chicknits, you'll see that Bonne Marie has--on this very day--posted her own FAB-ulous pattern for legwarmers. They're THIGH-HIGH!** She has graciously offered to create a printer-friendly version and send me the link.

** OK, they're not thigh-highs. I saw "length: 22 in" in the measurements and jumped to that conclusion, but the length is to ensure proper slouchiness. My mistake!

OK, so this knitalong has one important rule:

You must take a picture of you and your legwarmers in "Maniac" pose.



My shelves are up! I now have three glorious shelves in my office closet (the weird and glorious thing about my apartment: this is only supposed to be a 1-bedroom apartment and I have three closets. Woo hoo!), just waiting for me to decide what to put on them. I even have space for two more if I decide I need them.

I finished the first sock for my uncle. I think I may actually finish the second sock by the time I have to leave for Chicago. Amazing.

For no real good reason, that's how I feel right now. Out of touch. Out of synch. Rather aimless.

So I started another project. I mean, what else am I gonna do?

It's kinda a secret though.

I'm such a tease.

This weekend we're putting in shelves in the closet of the room I use as my office. It's something I've been putting off since...I moved. I am very excited. I think that once I get the physical clutter cleared away I can brush off the mental clutter.

That's it. Just wanted to check in with folks. The last couple days have been fairly draining, so I'm just going to curl up under a blanket and watch Finding Nemo for the third time.

1. Knitty has a new button.

2. I haven't quite mastered the art of self-picture-taking. My arms are too short. Here's the best picture of the hat I could get:



I was inspired by Cari's hat--and/or perhaps Cari's self-portrait in the hat. I used Classic Elite Bazic Wool, one ball of #2932 and one ball of #2985 (I forget now which color is which number. Sometimes I wish all yarn companies went the J. Crew way and labeled their yarn more descriptively. I used pumpkin and mulberry, thank you very much). When I started I decided that I didn't want the stripes right next to each other, and that developed into dividing each stripe with three rows of garter stitch in some leftover Brown Sheep Nature Spun in black. I decreased the number of rows per stripe after each pattern repeat, so that it starts, after the initial 8 rows of mulberry, with 6 rows pumpkin, 6 rows mulberry, then 5 rows of each, and then I started on the crown and gave up the garter stitch for a cleaner look. Does any of that make sense? I don't write patterns, normally. It's a hat. How hard can it be? I like it though, and it's toasty warm. Rosedale is pleased.

3. I agreed to substitute teach a seven-hour grammar seminar on Sunday. I get paid $30 an hour. That's more than I make adjuncting. Bring on more seven-hour grammar seminars, say I.

4. I forgot.

5. I started the legwarmers last night. Hee.

6. Speaking of which, if I have time this weekend I will construct the list of people who have admitted that they are probably in the not-so-distant future going to make themselves a pair of legwarmers.

7. Crap, it's already 9:00!

8. I went out with my sister adjunct after teaching today, for some well-deserved margaritas. No sooner had we sat down than the bartender flipped a switch on the stereo system and we were treated to "Material Girl." It's a sign. Not sure of what, but I know a sign when I see/hear one.

Really? Just checking. Let me know if you're interested--in comments or email. I'd be happy to host one. Even though I've totally stalled on the one Rachael's hosting.

As you know, there's an awesome and free pattern for legwarmers from Stef.


Rosie thanks you for the compliments.

Next up on the finishing block: Lazy Sunday. I'm going to go ahead and try seaming with the bulky yarn, even though I know it's probably not a good idea.

I found sushi pajamas on Saturday. Then I found I Love Lucy pajamas. I had them off the rack and was heading to the dressing room when I saw the price tag: $72. For flannel?! Nuh-uh.

This week on the Artist's Way: Recovering a Sense of Possibility. All I can say is THANK GOD NO READING WEEK IS OVER. I hated it. HATED IT. D'ya I would've gotten more out of it had I opted out of the paper grading? I was in a pretty crappy mood until Friday, when I started reading blogs again. Quite honestly, I think Julia Cameron has something against teachers. The week was nothing short of punishment. It sucked, I got very little out of it, and I'm glad it's over.

This week, however, looks promising. I'm already thinking about making some changes. I'm thinking about heading over to Typepad, to obtain a little more control over the blog. I'm out of patience with Photo Navy not being operational and I want more space for pictures. I'm also...slowly...coming to the decision to cut back on teaching hours next semester. It would mean a lot less money, and hence some drastic budgeting. But I think I would be happier and freer to WORK ON MY OWN SHIT, and then work on the stuff that actually MATTERS to me. I don't have that now.

Thus bringing the total number of finished garments that actually fit me and are FOR me to SEVEN. That includes socks, but not scarves.

What a treat this jacket is. I had everything finished on Friday, save for the grafting and weaving and blocking. Saturday got incredibly cold here and, as I knew I would be facing that cold on a Manhattan shoe-shopping expedition (I'd promised my fella that I'd show him the place where I got my Converse), I decided I'd better get Rosedale in shape to wear. Thanks to a tip from Ms. Cari, I have a website that clearly explains kitchener, with the most illustrative pictures I've yet seen. Go to this site if you're like me and have shied away from kitchener (hello, toe-up socks!) out of fear and/or loathing. The underarm seams are a little rough at the beginning, but that's the only way you can tell they're there. Thanks a million for the link, Cari! Steaming the zipper facing took forever, and it still curls in. I'm still torn between adding a zipper or going for another option, snaps or eyelets or something. Putting in zippers terrifies me. I don't sew anything more complicated than replacement buttons. Besides, one side of Rosedale is burgundy, the other is teal. I did that on purpose and I love it, but what color zipper would I get?

Oh, wait, you wanna see it on me? OK.

How 'bout this view?

So, I did indeed take Rosedale out on Saturday. Unfortunately, it was too cold to wear her alone, so I had to wear my badass biker jacket over her. She seemed to appreciate the combination, but informed me that she would really like a coordinating hat and gloves, just in case the weather warms up enough to wear her alone. "Hmmm," I thought. "I suppose we could wander over to a yarn store and see what they have." "Yes, please!" answered Rosedale. To be honest, I think she really just wanted to go to the yarn store to get fawned over. I took her to Downtown Yarn in the East Village, because I also had a hankering for some warm sparkly disco yarn to make legwarmers, now that it is frigid and I have waiting-for-bus time to deal with, and the last time I was there, they had a nice supply of sparkly yarn. They still do, but their stock has changed significantly since I was last there--I guess that was about nine months ago (I don't shop for yarn in the city as much any more, because it is a lot more economical online, from places like Elann and the T-boys. Just in case mom's reading this, Threadbear offers gift certificates. I'm just sayin').

Rosie got fawned over plenty. That was fun. Downtown Yarn is now stocking Noro, or at least they are for a little while, and so I pointed to the colorway I used and told them where I got the pattern (I was a little surprised that they didn't know it, but whatever). The women who work there have always been incredibly nice and helpful to me, but Saturday they were just amazing. I picked out yarn for a hat--Classic Elite Bazic Wool in an orange and burgundy that goes perfectly with Rosedale. I power-knit the hat yesterday and will post pics soon. I'd never worked with Bazic before and it's really nice! The yardage isn't much to speak of--65 yds for $5.50, but I only needed two balls for the hat and it's very soft and cozy.

I also got legwarmer yarn, and here's where I splurged. I couldn't help it. I found the PERFECT sparkly yarn, in a medium gray mohair, but it's too thin to be knit by itself, and I didn't want to double it up for some reason. So I'm blending it with Cascade 220 in charcoal gray. THEN, I found another PERFECT sparkly yarn, variegated in grays, pinks and tans, and will blend that with Cascade 220 in dusty rose, to be striped with the sparkly gray blend. I can't wait to start these but, of course, I forgot to ask them to wind up the Cascade. I may bring them back to the store after I teach today--I could also return the extra balls of Bazic that I didn't need and pick up something else. Hmmmmmmm...

I also finished my cousin's Meilenweit socks, but I haven't taken a picture of them yet. I started a Booga Bag, in Kureyon #88, which I should have finished this week--I want to take it with me to Chicago so I can felt it in my aunt's washing machine. I'm completely avoiding knitting the gift socks, because I am completely burned out. Perhaps it's all that Regia, when I've got the Koigu yarn for my mom calling out to me. Hmmm. I also think it might be time to try the two-circular needle method on socks, but only if I can use Addis. That might be another present idea, just in case mom's reading this. Addi Turbos, two of them, size US 2, 24".

I don't want to work this week. I want school to go away. Five more classes until Thanksgiving. Five more classes until Thanksgiving. Five more classes until Thanksgiving. There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place like home.

Why yes, I am pretty damn proud of myself.

I did not have cable growing up, but I listened to a helluva lotta top 40 radio. That made it possible for me to get those apparently obscure lyrics that wound up being worth 4 or 5 points each. And I got all the bonus questions. And I got an extra 5 points for naming Alison as the person who led me to the quiz.

I also scored scarily high on the pop culture quiz that Entertainment Weekly put out several months ago. Seriously, I need a job that allows me to put all this knowledge to some kind of practical use.

I just remembered that my first year of college saw the dawning of the 90s. A bunch of us were at dinner during one of the last months of the 80s, reminiscing about all those great 80s songs. We came up with the idea of surveying everyone in the dorm for their favorite song of the 80s, to put on a mix that we would then play at the first dorm party of the new decade.

It got a little out of control. I remember sitting down in the dorm lobby (I was one of the dorm security monitors) with the guy that eventually put this all together, asking everyone who came in to name their favorite 80s song, a quesiton that eventually became, "name a song from the 80s...nope, we got that one already. Name another one." We wound up, after a week or so, maybe two, with a list of over 500 songs. Since we couldn't possibly eliminate any of them, the guy whose name I can no longer remember decided that we would have to make as many tapes as we needed (ah, the days before CD burning. Such a simpler time my ass). He took it upon himself to do all the gathering--first asking people to lend him their tapes or CDs, and then going out and buying what he didn't have. I'm pretty sure there were songs that he never got, but he wound up making over 30 tapes, if I remember correctly--maybe more. And yes, they were played at our parties. And he did sell them to recoup some of his spending. But I also believe he dedicated himself to this project so thoroughly that he wound up having to drop out of school.

Remember this one?

"So I saw you at the pizza place
You were with another girl
it was a crime it was such a disgrace
You really shattered my world

Little things remind me of you
Cheap cologne and that damn song too!"

I'm this close to calling that my guilty pleasure song, but I'm sure I can do better than that.

I gave my students the grammar quiz yesterday (I should point out that this is an institutional thing, and not my idea. I had to come up with the sentences myself, though). Since I was still in the midst of No Reading Week, and I felt awkward about dragging my knitting out while they worked, I was at a total loss with what to do with myself. I came up with this:

I will write haikus
While the students take the test
God this is boring.

No more questions, please.
By this point you should know all
That you need to know.

I have a pimple
On the bottom of my chin
I want to pop it.

Class starts at 4:10.
You will sit down, take the test,
And then you may go.

My posture is bad.
I need a chiropractor
to readjust me.

And finally, inspired by Col's comment from yesterday:

Colleen had a dream
About snails that were attached
to her body. Gross!

No Reading Week has been easier and harder than I expected it to be. On the one hand, I have plenty of work to keep me busy (although it is all teaching-related; I have not worked on the dissertation...then again, the dissertation requires reading at this point, soooo...home free on that count) and when I'm not working, I'm knitting--although I have been so tired this week that I can't even motivate myself to knit. Rosedale languishes. She needs a zipper facing and some grafting but she's also a big girl at this point and it's too much weight for me. I'm such a wimp.

On the other hand, I have twice now caught myself reading the titles of the books on my shelf. That's it, just reading the titles. I have also, in the process of composing a grammar exam for my students, spent over half an hour reading through old papers from graduate school before I realized, "oh shit! I'm not supposed to be reading!" I am far more curious about what other people are reading on the subway. I have been cheating, stealing quick little glances at headlines in the Daily News and the Post.

I liken this to quitting smoking. Instead of bumming smokes I would simply stand near smokers, and politely request that they exhale in my direction.

The worst part is going to bed at night. I have become so used to reading myself to sleep. Yes, I'm one of those people who falls asleep reading in bed and wakes up two or more hours later with a thin line of drool leading from her mouth to the book. So attractive. I read to avoid the nagging thoughts that keep me up at night. These thoughts used to be financial in nature ("I'm overdrawn...again") and caused extreme panic attacks. Now the panic attacks come from either thinking about what happens when you die, what happens when the sun blows up and all life on Earth ends, and from fear of professional failure. You know, the little things.

On Monday night, I decided to try writing instead of reading. I'm not used to writing at night--usually my mind is total mush by 5 pm. I was not pleased with it. I expect too much from my writing, and trying to take it someplace when I know I'm mentally exhausted was just too much. I got tired enough to sleep, so it was worth something.

Tuesday night was better, after I stopped complaining. I was far too tired to do anything, and I couldn't read, and I couldn't watch TV, and it was 9:00. I was ready to call it a night, but Mike suggested we play Scrabble. "Or is that considered reading?" he asked. Who the hell knows, I answered, all I knew is that I was in no shape to play Scrabble. We wound up playing 20 Questions about things in the apartment instead. Did you know that "cat poop" is an excellent 20 Questions item?

"Is it in the kitchen?"

"Yes." [this is where I keep the litter box, off to the side by a window. Not, like, near any of the actual food.]

   "Is it edible?"

"Ummmm...it could be."

     "Would I eat it?"

"No."

       "Is it animal?"

"Uhh...no."

       "Did it used to be animal?"

I would've completely stumped him if I hadn't been giggling.

Last night I wrote again, and it went much better.

Gained insight: I purl very well. I got a little mezmerized with my purling motion the other day.

One more day and I can read blogs! I can't wait to check in on people. It's been incredibly hard to stay away...lucky I allowed myself to write email. More than one day without communicating with friends would have been torture.

As some of you know, I'm participating in the Artist's Way group that Pioneer Melissa coordinated. We're getting ready to embark on Week Four, which is the No Reading Week. No Reading to me means No Non-Essential Reading; I'm still going to have papers to grade and business-oriented email to read. I will not be reading the magazines that come in, and I will not be reading at bedtime. The business of the blogoverse, however, presents a bit of a dilemma. The whole point of the No Reading Week is to avoid an excess of input without comparable creative output. I guess that makes sense, except that I wonder why Julia Cameron chose reading and not, say, TV. I'd thought about cutting TV out of my week completely, because I think that would make me go even more bonkers than not reading, and it would allow me to still check up on my pals online.

I've settled on a compromise. I am going to be drastically cutting down the amount of time I spend online, in both the posting and blog-reading categories. At this point I plan on posting three times this week, following an as-yet unmade schedule, but if I can remain strong I will not be checking up on other people until Friday. I've decided that even though Friday does not mark the end of Week Four, it's good enough. Friday--my first weekend day--will give me the time to get work done and still play. I will also be drastically cutting down on my TV-viewing. I promise. Starting tomorrow.

(checking email will be a more regular thing.)

And now on to the other business...

So Mike and I went to the Halloween parade on Friday and had a good time. I debated on whether to bring my camera and decided not to, because my night time pictures rarely turn out. I wish I had brought it now, except I wasn't in a good place to get good shots of anything except the giant puppets, which were really cool, especially the big giant spider that required at least ten people to maneuver (one for each leg and two for the body). I noticed that at least two men were dressed up as Roy from Sigfried and Roy, wearing a white suit with a stuffed tiger toy attached to it, and fake blood everywhere...that wins my prize for most awful yet still funny in a sick way.

After the parade we went to see Lost in Translation. It has been a while since a movie has elicited such a strong emotional reaction from me...not since Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon did I feel so sated and cleansed (I realize it's an odd comparison, but I'm just going on feeling here). Both movies seem to unfold at their own pace, too--both are luxurious cinematic experiences. It has also been a while since I have so completely identified with a movie character (not in my present situation, thankfully). Scarlett Johansson's character is searching for something to do with herself, which not coincidentally means searching for some kind of creative outlet...yeah. Good movie for Artist's Way folks. Good movie for everyone. It deserves all the hype it's getting.

OK. My rice cooker just clicked off so it's time to steam some broccoli. Have a great week! I'll miss you!