Everybody Loves Saturday Night

If I were in Minneapolis, today I'd be going with my mom to the cemetery where my grandfather is buried (a place I always thought was extremely far away, until I learned to drive. Then I realized it only seemed far away because funeral processions move slowly. So maybe I wasn't the brightest kid). "Cemetery" doesn't look like it's spelled properly at all. ANYWAY, yes, my grandfather (he of the backyard Yellow Brick Road design) was stationed in Italy during WWII. He rarely talked about it, save to describe what he did as akin to what Radar O'Reilly did in M.A.S.H. (which, of course, because of my limited knowledge of war from books I had to read in school, prompted the indelible image of my grandfather staring down the Germans on the front lines while clutching a teddy bear). I think that he was reluctant to talk about it because he didn't want his grandkids to hear anything upsetting, but I may just be making that up. My brother has a picture of him in uniform, standing with his rifle, which he's leaning on as though it were a cane. I believe the caption is something like "Sid learns use for gun." (Yes, my grandpa's name is Sid. Is that not the best grandpa name? It's like he was born to it.) I do know a story about my grandfather writing to my grandmother about the Italian civilians in the village where he was stationed, who were going without many basic necessities, so she organized some care packages to send over. I probably have that story wrong, too, but it's one of several stories about my grandparents that I truly love, so I don't really care if I'm wrong.

(My favorite stories about them are about their courtship, and how my grandmother, who never drank, had two cocktails on their first date in order to impress my grandfather and got completely shnockered...and how she knew he was getting serious when he switched his brand of cigarettes to the same ones she smoked. Smoking is bad. But it was the 40s, so I find no end of romance in that vignette.)

I go home a week from tomorrow, and I can't wait. My brother has tickets to a Twins game (against the Mets, which is funny) the day I get in, and with his connection to the minor league St. Paul Saints, I'm sure I'll be attending at least one of those games. I prefer minor league games. I love the immediacy and the intimacy. And the crazy-ass stuff they do between innings.

Then there's my high school reunion, which I'm not looking forward to. I promised a friend I'd go to this one, but honestly, I want to get out of it. It's not because I hated high school so much that the idea of seeing the people who tormented me turns my stomach. It's not like I don't want to see people, I just...don't care. I have no interest in having a myraid of the same five-minute conversations with people who also...don't care. Maybe there's a way to subvert the process. Maybe I should work on condensing the last 15 years to a 30-second-or-less synopsis. Maybe I should just shrug and say, "Nuthin'," and offer no elaboration. I've already decided that my answer to the "What are you doing now" question will be a simple "Corrupting the nation's youth." I tested that one out last night, but followed it up with "I teach." Next time, I think I'll just smile slyly and go freshen my drink.

I'm in good shape to have Audrey finished by the time I leave. I did finish the front this weekend, so now I'm seeing double:



I have to be careful blocking these pieces. I know some Audrey-makers didn't block at all, but I just need a little more ease. I overblocked the other ribby sweater (Banff), but since it's supposed to be boxy, I don't mind. Maybe I'll block Audrey by wearing it, let it conform to mah currrrves the way Levi jeans conform to my butt after a few wearings. I have already put in a request for a Vespa. Ciao!

[post partially recovered from this morning, pre-Blue Screen of Death/I should really stop splurging on yarn and DVDs and plunk down the $$$ for more RAM]

So I had this whole paragraph about songs that you love until they get irrevocably linked to some major or minor tragedy...wondering if any of you had entire albums like that. There are very few Cure songs I can listen to these days and none of them are on Disintegration. Except now that thought depresses me more than the circumstances that led to my shunning of the album.

The title line is from one of the few songs I still love dearly.



I was feeling very restless this morning, like I wanted to clear off my desk in one flourishing sweep of my arm and just start OVER. Meeting Cari and Iris for coffee and knitting helped ground me a bit (but not so much that I didn't plunk down some massive green for a cartload of DVDs. Look Ma, no yarn!). Mostly we plotted more ways to lure Rachael to Brooklyn. I worked on the front of Audrey, which I had to frog last night, twenty or so rows, utterly heartbreaking, but she's in tiptop shape now, and if I put my mind and my DVD player to it tonight, I could finish it.

P.S. More random Simpsons: "You ever hear of 'Planet of the Apes'?" "Uh, the movie or the planet?"

The U.N. is cool. I got a brief tour of it yesterday and somehow managed to restrain myself from running into the Security Council meeting room and representing Angola. (Cue one of my favorite Simpsons lines: "Soviet Union? I thought you guys had collapsed." "That's what we wanted you to think!" OK, it's funnier with the visual.*) There's a sculpture of a gun with a knot in it outside the visitor's entrance to the U.N. and tourists were taking pictures of each other in front of it. Political statement? Or just "Hey, it's another piece of wacky NYC statuary! Go stand in front of it"? Hard to say.

Col didn't need to bribe me at all to get me to the library after lunch. She was walking that way to run errands, so there was no escape. She did, however, present me with a gift based on my results from the Which Homestar Runner Character Are You? quiz.


click Strong Bad to see what the fuss is about
Warning: highly addictive

She also sent me a link to the most disgustingly cute (or maybe just disgusting) thing I've seen in while: Japanese children's lunches.

The library was...the library. I guess that's comforting. I accomplished what I needed to and found a new article that will prove helpful to boot, and all that in under two hours. Success. So I rewarded myself with a trip to Coliseum Books and picked up--finally--Karen Fowler's Jane Austen Book Club, which has been getting pretty favorable reviews. Started it last night and it's pretty engaging, which is saying something, given that I was hepped up on the Nyquil.

I came home to find something even better: a copy of To Kill a Mockingbird from the Divine Ms. W. This will serve me well today, as my sinuses are ordering me not to do anything more strenuous than watching movies. And knitting. And probably writing some stuff. But that's it. Except for maybe buying some soup or something.

One last thing: if you haven't clicked on the link over there to the speech Al Gore gave yesterday, or if you didn't catch it on C-SPAN, I strongly urge you to read it now. (You'll have to forgive the periodic spelling error, even if it makes you cringe.) He's a smart guy, that Al Gore. Remember when smart people led this country? I miss that.


* Other favorite Simpsons lines: "Oh, I've wasted my life" and the description of brunch: "It's not quite breakfast, it's not quite lunch, but it comes with a slice of cantaloupe at the end. You don't get exactly what you would at breakfast, but you get a good meal" (that and "My head says stop, but my heart--and my hips--cry 'Proceed!'" from the same ep wherein Marge takes bowling lessons from Albert Brooks in an outrageous French accent). Your turn.

I'm faced with the same question Amber was on Sunday: is it allergies, or is it Something Else? Why is it that I always forget what spring is really like: not so much with the frolicking as with the bipolar weather in desperate need of lithium. I had a virtually sleepless night, typical for the night before the day I told myself I would Get Back To Work. Ah, but for once I have an actual deadline (as opposed to the flimsy "it's done when it's done" deadlines I've been working with that allow me to explore the outermost boundaries of work avoidance), so I'm going to drag myself to the library despite feeling like I'm walking in water. I'd planned on being there by now and breaking for my lunch date with the most excellent Col, but instead I'll have lunch first--which is really flirting with the devil, because I know that I won't want to get to work after lunch. Col, if you're reading this, make sure I go to the library. You have total license to bribe me with whatever you think will work. (Man, if that's not trust...)

Final assessment of Colonial House: I don't think they had enough shots of Freeman Don working shirtless. Not nearly enough. Before you protest, "But it's PBS," tell me you haven't completely blocked out that prolonged goat teat sucking scene. That poor, exploited goat.

Really, aside from declaring the weekend a Guilt-Free Weekend, I didn't do anything I feel shame for now. Of course, I have a pretty high threshold for shame. But seriously, nothing extraordinary or illegal happened. Much. At least, what I remember was pretty tame. No, really. I was good. In my own way. Honest.

So now I have no idea what you're all thinking, but it's probably more scintillating than what actually went on. Feel free to ride the fake vicarious thrill, though. I sure am.

No, really. I had an awesome time. My friends are fantastic hosts and they throw one mean party. This one was in honor of some friends of S.'s from Germany, whom I had also met when I went over to visit her a couple years ago (we agreed it felt like a lot longer than two years. I went to Germany the same year I moved to New York. It seems like more time should have passed between those two events). It was definitely not the right weekend to have a barbecue, but the rain managed to hold off until everyone had gone home and those of us staying had spilled into the living room couches.

At some point that night, I met a woman whose brother teaches in the same department as my father. In North Dakota.

So now I'm back, having survived another round trip on the Chinatown bus, which wasn't as conducive to knitting as I would've liked, so I wound up spending most of the trip back to NYC staring out the window and trying not to listen to the ex-con behind me tell his seatmate about how not racist he is.

Which means I didn't finish the back to Audrey until last night.

No, this is not going to be about Disney's refusal to market Michael Moore's new film (which apparently was a publicity stunt, as if the movie needed it--Mr. Moore, why do you make it so difficult for me to like you?). Nor is this about how you can see secret messages about sex and drugs in Disney's animated movies. Nope. This is about Radio Disney taking over my phone.

It started the day I had my cable modem installed. When I tried to use the phone, I could distinctly hear a radio station. And not just any station, but one that still had "Who Let the Dogs Out" on heavy rotation. Sometimes it was just an annoyance, other times I'd have to call people back on a different phone line just to hear them. I thought it had something to do with the cable modem, but I couldn't find anything in any help section of any company that might have some explanation. Then I thought it was the phone, which is old and decaying and cordless (and would only provide an hour's worth of use, and if you can stomach it, imagine being cut off from Rob whilst ordering crack yarn). So I bought a new phone, but it made the problem worse--now the station was coming in louder and with so much static that I couldn't hear anything on the other line (so if you tried to call me and heard me yelling "I'm sorry I can't hear you too much interference call back later!" that's why). Note that people calling me couldn't hear the radio at all. And that at this point I didn't know what station it was--only that I disliked it intensely.

I called Verizon yesterday and got a really funny customer service guy (this was after I was treated to the "repair" line, which is entirely computer-operated. "Please state clearly the problem you are having, as in 'noise on the line.'" "NOISE ON THE LINE." "I'm sorry to hear that. Let me see if I heard you correctly. Did you say you..." I don't need your sympathy, you automated beeyotch. FIX my damn phone) who linked me up to a REAL repair guy who had a voice lower and slower than Barry White's (that was surreal), and someone was out to "have a look" within the hour (which was nice). That guy comes in, picks up the phone, listens for 2 seconds and tells me, "Yeah, it's Disney Radio." Apparently the entire hood is affected by it--so that's why I've been seeing Verizon vans all over the place. I don't understand why or how this is happening, unless Disney really is trying to brainwash everyone into submission, in which case, I hardly think that Baja Boys and M.C. Hammer are the way to go. Maybe it's submission-under-extreme-duress they're going for.

Verizon Repair Man (who got really interested in my "How to Be a Fabulous Feminist" Sark poster and asked, "So you're a feminist? Do you know Annie? She lives around here?") installed a noise suppressor in my phone jack, and the radio is still there, but I can barely hear it now, which is a vast improvement. Radio Disney. Ugh.


I finally scored some eBay Rowan Calmer last week, and it arrived--from England--yesterday. I'm still waiting for the Cafe Press order I placed two weeks ago, but the Calmer kinda makes me not upset about anything. The Ecstasy of yarn, I'm telling you. Not that I know what Ecstasy is like. (I really don't, I'm not just saying that because my mother sometimes reads this.) The color is Coral (I really wanted the pack of discontinued Zeal, but I kept getting outbid for it. STOP that, I say!) and I'm, yes, making Audrey (the model in Rowan is in Coral as well. But I take what I can get, you know). When the Audrey craze first hit, I hadn't received my Rowan mag yet, and I couldn't tell from the small pictures what made Audrey so enchanting. It just looked like so much ribbing and, you know, how boring. But it is enchanting and I started it last night. And Calmer makes the ribbing not so boring--in fact, it's kinda sexy sexy (Ecstasy, I'm telling you).

I don't have the time for pictures, unfortunately, because I need to get going. Boston-bound! Have a great weekend, everyone!

And then Bernice dons a strappy tank.

First things first. I needed a haircut. Desperately. The salon I went to last time (I don't want to tell you how long it had been) was not answering the phone. I had a choice: I could take my chances with an unproven place, wait until Tuesday to try the salon again, or grab the scissors and do it myself. I didn't mean for it to get this short, so you can visualize for yourself how this went down: snip. Snip snip. Snip. Shit, that's not even. Snip. Closer. Snip snip. Shit. Fuckin' right-handed scissors. Fine. Snip snip snip.

It's still not even, but an added bonus of having curly hair (neener neener) is that you can't tell. Cost of haircut: $0. For those keeping count, that's roughly three inches of hair gone. Feelin' free: priceless.

Now the tank, which I have redubbed "Meet the Fleet." A nearly impossible garment to photograph properly. I am gonna hafta block it at some point, because the straps curl in so as to expose le bra strap, an unsightly thing that ruined many an otherwise mediocre shot of me in said tank. I tried. Mike tried. Roughly 30 shots were taken in all, and that's the best I could do. Best thing, I think, is to get me out in natural light so the flash doesn't pick up the bra underneath and I can avoid any unseemly comparisons to that Louet ad. (Hey, I think that's my first ever honest-to-goodness knitter's inside joke.)

* You can read the story here. God, I love the Internet. F. Scott Fitzgerald went to my high school, by the way. He got expelled in 8th grade.

Schoolhouse Rock has a worthy successor: GRAMMAR MAN!

You need the full image. Go here for a picture of Grammar Man with his sidekicks, Edit and Delate. (Delete is the dog.)

Swoon.

(Thanks are due, yet again, to Air America--specifically the Unfiltered show. They've got Grammar Man as a guest right now.)

Colonial House talk: That. Was. AWESOME.

You know how you sometimes hear a novel when you read it? Judi Dench narrates Middlemarch for me. Probably because she is "The Voice of George Eliot" in the Masterpiece Theater adaptation of the novel. You know how great it is to have Judi Dench narrate a novel for you?

The Masterpiece Theater production of Middlemarch is fantastic, by the way. It's incredibly faithful to the book, but not in a rigid way (::cough:: Harry Potter ::cough::). And not only does it star the devastatingly gorgeous Rufus Sewell (who has stopped answering my calls), but there's a Firth in it. And you know the rule: one Firth is better than no Firth at all. Not that this excuses anyone from reading the book. (Sorry--takes a while for me to exorcize the Teacher.)

I turned the heel last night, but you've already seen what the sock looks like. So instead I'll show you a picture I took of Scout fighting with the camera strap, while he was fighting with the camera strap.



Yo, Boston peeps! Am I gonna see you this Sunday?

My academic interests lie in what we know as the Long Century, meaning the 19th century with its starting and ending dates extended a bit, although different people will tell you different dates. It's a cultural studies thing, and from what I know it only applies to Great Britain's culture. Most people will tell you that the 19th century in England didn't really end until 1914. Some people will insist that the century began in 1800, but I'm fonder of 1792--or earlier, depending on what facet of the culture I'm referencing.* All this is to say two things: my only frame of reference for the American colonies is that people came over from England, often under the penal code (cf. Moll Flanders) and as for the time frame itself, I'm utterly clueless. 1628 has only one meaning: it's 8 numbers away from the address of the house in which I grew up.

Still, Colonial House is utterly riveting. I'm still having difficulty sorting out how I feel that the land on which the colony exists is owned by the 21st-century Passamaquoddy Tribe. Did the producers of the show go out of their way to find a spot that fit the criteria, and is it coincidence then that they are one of the few remaining tribes that have maintained their own language? Did the governor's wife really say that they're still dangerous, or was that a more general "it's still dangerous" as in "even though we're out in the middle of nowhere and it's theoretically 1628, it's still not 100% safe" comment? I watched it twice and I still can't decide. I was satisfied, however, when one of the tribe's members talked about the destruction of Native Americans at the hands of settlers, and referred to it as genocide and a holocaust, and that particular segment ended there, as if to say, "yes, that is what it was."

It's no wonder that my favorite people so far are the Heinzes (the academics) and Michelle Rossi-Voorhees, not only because she has a great name, but she's also a seamstress.

Would I have survived? Not a chance. Now, offer me the chance to live in 1890s England, and I'm there, baby. Watch me start my own feminist/vegetarian/anti-vivisection/suffrage paper and knit my own blue stockings.

Speaking of...I have heard whispers of a read-along, this time featuring what I consider to be one of the finest novels ever written in the English language: George Eliot's Middlemarch. Seeing as how I abandoned the Proust-along (but I will get back to him, I swear), I have no right to jump into another one, but I'm so excited that two of my favorite people are reading it for the first time that I just have to read it with them. If you've never read the book, well, I can't say that it's a summer beach read. It is if you consider your summer beach reads perfect at 900 pages full of exceptional Victorian prose; that is to say, I'd read it at the beach and get so caught up in it I'd fry. If you don't really do the whole beach thing, then damn--go read this book in front of your air conditioner while holding a beverage of your choice. Greta recommends lemonade.

Hey! Rachael has a brand new bag!

OK, the knitting.

It was a bad weekend for knitting. Too many projects stood up and said, "Ew. Please stop making me." Whether it was randomly swatching recent acquisitions just to see what gauge I could get and then messing that up (yes, I'm sorry to report that it is possible to mess up a swatch that only asks you to rib. Oh, I'm pathetic), or swatching with some Plassard Tropique only to find out that I hated it--that's the first time that's ever happened, and it scared me. It looks so gorgeous in the ball--beautiful oranges and pinks, but then the shaggy eyelashy stuff in it just turns me off. It's like looking at someone really attractive, but s/he's got a piece of corn stuck in the corner of his/her mouth. And you can't tell yarn "you gotta little something, there." If only you could. What a wonderful world this would be. Where was I? Oh yes, other yarn faux pas. Jeez, how'd it get to be 10:00 already?

There was this other swatch I started, first with the recommended 15s, then with 13s, then with 10.5s before I finally got the tension that came close to what I wanted. I'm not sure if you can tell, but I also can't decide what kind of stitch I want to use. Here are the results of my experimenting with Plassard Papyrus:


Enough! No mas! Uncle!

I do like this yarn, if yarn is the right word. It's nice and light, almost like paper, and the colors are great. I'm imagining some sort of crop top with fringe, like a grass skirt for your torso. Would I wear such a garment? And if so, with what? And where would I wear such a piece? To the semi-annual I Don't Normally Dress Like This gathering, or perhaps the I Spent Too Much Money Making This Thing That I Love But Would Never Wear Con? Hello, neurosis, my old friend.

A worse fate found my Velour tank. Because I was afraid of not having enough yarn for a full-length tank, I opted for a waist-length design, and considering that tops that don't have waist shaping tend to hang off me and remove all hints of an actual waist, I thought, hey--I'll shape it like a trapezoid so that it curves in where it should. It'll look weird, but on me it'll be fine. Wrong. Or at least, measurements were taken by one side of my brain and were promptly misinterpreted by the other side. I took it off the needles to let it stew, because I really didn't feel like ripping it all out just yet. For you, though, a shot of what I had accomplished:


I can hear you laughing, you know.

Oh, but there's more. You may have noticed the "Sparkle Motion" socks in the works-in-progress column. I started them quit a while ago, finished one, and moved on to Gigi. I figured that the best cure for my knitting and body image self esteem was to return to socks. But I couldn't find the second ball of yarn. So now I have one very lonely disco sock (unfortunately, the camera doesn't capture the sparklies):


You may now doubt my commitment to Sparkle Motion

In the midst of all this knitting angst, some good things happened. I finished the strappy tank and it fits. Full-on glam shot will happen when the timing works out, but for now, here it is not being worn:



It's also unblocked but I think I can get away with not blocking it. That bottom is going to roll up no matter what, and the straps at least curl under.

I also started a new sock, in the hopes that it would bring some sock karma my way so I could find the second ball of disco sock yarn. This one is Opal Lollipop #1012. I've been working on it at night, and couldn't distinguish the blues from the purples. I like it a lot better in the light, though you might not be able to distinguish the blues from purples, either.



Notice anything different? This is the first sock I've done on circulars, the Inox 3s I used for the ribbing on Gigi. I've hit the heel part and need to figure out whether I want to shift the stitches around for the heel (which I will do as a short-row heel, because too much time has gone by for me to go back to the dutch version and the "afterthought heel" confuses and scares me like the Unfrozen Caveman Knitter I am), and then I need to remember when and how to decrease for the toes, but I can say with some certainty that I will only ever go back to doing socks on double points when I have no other choice (like when I find that second ball of disco yarn and need to make the second sock match the first).

So now it's after 11 and I've got stuff to do.

*I don't know if it's just Victorianists that do this sort of thing. I remember someone posing the question to a listserv I once belonged to, "When would you say the Victorian Era began?" I had to post my smart-ass answer, "When Victoria became Queen, perhaps?" But I knew that what the poster really meant was how far back we could trace the primary characteristics of English culture that we've come to associate with the Victorian period, in which case I would say 1832, when the first Reform Bill passed, and to make this entry come full circle: Middlemarch is set against the debate over and passage of this Bill. HA!

Hooray for Massachusetts! (link to NY Times, registration required but free)

In a related story, some greeting card companies are launching a new line of wedding announcements, marriage and anniversary cards aimed at the homosexual market:

Among their products, which debut this week at the National Stationery Show in New York, is a card featuring a picture of a pink car with rainbow-coloured cans and a sign reading "Justly Married".

It's also the 50th anniversary of Brown v. Board of Education. Happy Anniversary, many happy returns, and may we continue to win the fight against discrimination in all its ugly forms.

I sent out a mass email--something I try to avoid doing as a rule--to people on my address list yesterday with a link to this petition, sponsored by the Kerry for President website, calling for Rumsfeld's resignation. Yes, this counts as good news. Note to Pentagon: When Seymour Hersh, the journalist who broke the story on the Mi Lai massacre, tells you something is true and backs it up with sources, it's fucking TRUE, aight?

Another beacon: Air America. Seriously. Go look at their list of radio affiliates and see if it's available in your area, or if you can stream it. I find it very soothing to hear a report about recent events followed up with righteous liberal outrage. I've learned so much the past few days. For example, the Bush campaign is unleashing two new TV spots in the so-called "battleground" states that they claim represent a kinder, gentler campaign--no negativity, no smears against Kerry, just presenting the Bush platform in a positive light (yeah, whatever). OK, but that's the ad in English. The second ad is apparently filled with anti-Kerry lies and vitriol, and it's in Spanish. Sneaky Bush.

I was watching NOW with Bill Moyer last night, and saw a story on political ads that featured a Bush ad that claimed Kerry voted for a 50-cent gas tax at some point, but no such tax was ever up for discussion in Congress. Another ad claims that Kerry voted against measures to support our troops overseas by denying them weapons and armor, when in reality what Kerry had voted against was an $87 billion defense package of which less than 1% was allocated for weapons and armor. In an effort to be fair and balanced, they showed a Kerry ad accusing Bush of expressing support for sending U.S. jobs overseas, which the political consultant said wasn't true: Bush never said anything about it, but he did sign an economic report which encouraged sending jobs overseas. Um, isn't that pretty much the same thing? So what we've got is Kerry ads purporting half-truths, as opposed to Bush ads just out-and-out lying. For more information on political ads and the facts behind them, check out FactCheck.org, a project from the Annenberg Public Policy Center of the University of Pennsylvania.

I wish I could keep this focused on good news, but the news that the Iraqi Governing Council President has been killed by a suicide bomber is not good (see BuzzFlash headlines).

We will return to the regularly scheduled knitting blog shortly.

P.S. Oh! More good news: PBS's Colonial House starts tonight. OK, the preview I saw for it yesterday had Opraph Winfrey on it, in colonial garb and talking about her experience. Huh?

OK, now I'm getting kind of a kick out of the fact that "sailor mongering" was an actual thing.

But good on them for this story about election boards illegally denying college students the right to vote. I am very disheartened at the mention of Northwestern as one of the campuses at which "voting registrars have resisted demands to set up polling places." I remember sitting in my dorm's cafeteria one night in 1991 as three or four people distributed the appropriate registration forms for college students who lived out of state.

Pretty depressing day, eh? Well, take heart. Bush's approval rating is slipping, and even in die-hard Republican Ohio, Kerry's ahead by seven points. If you really want a good chuckle, well...you missed it. It was on Al Franken and Katherine Lanpher's Air America show, in which Franken used a slide whistle to audibly illustrate this graph (you have to scroll down).

The O'Franken Factor. Good for what ails ya.

Back in April 2002, Greenpeace activists boarded a ship carrying illegally obtained rare Amazon hardwood. They were arrested and served jail time. But now, the U.S. Attorney's Office is prosecuting the Greenpeace organization for sailor mongering:

Sailor mongering was rife in the 19th century when brothels sent prostitutes laden with booze onto ships as they made their way to harbor. The idea was to get the sailors so drunk they could be whisked to shore and held in bondage, and a law was passed against it in 1872. It has only been used in a court of law twice, the last time in 1890.

Message: dare to criticize us, we will prosecute.

From a recent CNN transcript, an interview between Miles O'Brien and Octavia Nasr, Senior Editor for Arab Affairs at CNN. Read the full script here.

O'BRIEN: Well, let me ask you this. You've had a chance to really listen to this tape and get a sense who might be responsible, just by deciphering, say, accents. And certainly, there in the Arab world, they're very attuned to that. And given the fact of who this may or may not be, does that have some effect on how it is being played?

NASR: Yes, and if you listen to these voices that we're hearing on Arab networks, Iraqis are condemning this execution. And they're saying these are foreigners. These are not Iraqis. They do not represent us and so forth.

Now, of course, the original claim was that Zarqawi is the actual man who performed this execution. Our experts listened to the accent, as you said, and they determined the accent is not Jordanian...

O'BRIEN: He is a Jordanian who is working supposedly, allegedly, at the behest of al Qaeda in Iraq. So go ahead.

NASR: Right, he is very close to bin Laden, and works, you're right, as an agent of al Qaeda in Iraq. Now, the accent is not Jordanian so that takes the Jordanian element out of the story immediately.

O'BRIEN: Interesting. All right, now one final thought here. You did a very careful translation of your own, of the statement. And in it, you see no reference to al Qaeda. And yet the official U.S. government translation does. Explain how that happened.

NASR: Oh, I find it very interesting, because out of the blue, there is a mention of al Qaeda on the U.S. government translation. It says: "Does al Qaeda need any further excuses?" Any speaker of the Arabic language is going to notice a difference between the word al Qaeda, which means "the base," and al qaed, which means "the one sitting, doing nothing."

My translation says: "Is there any excuse for the one who sits down and does nothing?" Basically they're telling people, you have no excuse for not doing anything, for not acting and defending Islam and so forth. Whereas the U.S. government translation has this factual error, I'm sure it's an honest mistake, but basically it sort of adds al Qaeda to the statement, which is not on the statement.

I have a cone of Silk City 3/2 Perle mercerized cotton holding approx 1,380 yards that I'm interested in swapping for something (preferably another kind of cotton or cotton blend).




I bought it last year from Elann, along with another cone in a different color that I've been using for the Corset Pullover. The gauge on that is 5 sts/1" on US 8 needles, but I think the yarn would look nicer on smaller needles (I had originally pegged it for Shirley Paden's Square-Bodice Pullover in the Summer 2003 issue of IK). But I'm having a hard time knitting with this yarn lately, and think it would be best suited for someone who can knit with this kind of cotton without any wrist or hand trouble. The color is a really beautiful quasi-teal that borders more on the green side--something between the two pictures I've put up. I'm keeping this an option to folks in the city because I'm not keen on shipping a cone. So if you're interested (I know I haven't made the best pitch for the yarn, but surely there are people out there who can handle it better than I can), please email me (that link is to the left--I'd prefer email to leaving comments, since I'll get the email faster). If no one from this immediate area responds, I will consider shipping outside the area.

Finished the strappy tank yesterday and grafted the shoulders together. I need to figure out how to kitchener left-handed. I've also decided that I would prefer not to knit with the Cotton Twist again. The fabric it makes feels great and looks great, but it splits and it's too slippery and I have a feeling it's not going to cooperate with my blocking efforts.

I started a new tank in GGH Velour last night. Now that's a fun yarn--the fabric it makes it spongy and stretchy. I don't think I bought enough to make a full-size tank, so I'm making this one cropped and praying that it will work out. Not working in the round for this one so I should know by the time I finished one piece whether I have enough for the whole thing. Just working by ear, no particular pattern.

Today I get back to working on Charlotte. I'm on row 90 and the pinky-peachy color, which I love dearly, and will most likely continue past the point where I'm supposed to add in the next color. I think I'm going to shade those two over 8 rows instead of 16, just to get more of that peachy-pinky goodness.

There's no point in having Blogger send comments to my email if I can't reply to the person directly. And there's no point in having people register if the profile, which included email and blog addresses, isn't accessible to me, the way it is when people leave comments through Typepad or Haloscan or really, any other comment service. It didn't take a week for me to decide that this just isn't worth it. Back to Haloscan I go.

97X Update: we're on the Ls. "Laid" is playing. There are some songs that, like gum, lose their flavor the more you hear them (did the term "bubblegum pop" derive fom this simile? Am I the last person to catch on to that? I feel dumb, then)...anyway, "Laid" is not one of those songs. "Steal My Sunshine" is. And "Cannonball" is the longest-lasting flavoricious song in the history of music.

I just realized that the Southwest Trading Company bamboo yarn I bought from Downtown Yarn a couple weeks ago is destined for a Chevron Tank. It's not the right gauge for that pattern, but I can modify it.

My solution to the TV dilemma last night (Everwood vs. Wrinkle in Time) was not to watch TV at all. Instead, Col and I got together for the first time in ages for a movie and food. Mean Girls. My three-word review: it was good. A little bit Heathers, a little bit Jawbreaker (which was itself derivative of Heathers but features The Donnas as the prom band). Definitely smarter than the average teen girl movie, in that it never once talked down to its audience or treated it as a bunch of mall-happy dimwits (unlike the preview we watched for this travesty called Sleepover, which looks like nothing more than a movie to advertise a bunch of products that teen girls simply must have, or they'll be ugly and unpopular). In fact, it was almost like an offshoot of Freaks and Geeks--the main character is recruited for the Mathletes (I derive no end of pleasure from that word. Mathletes. Mathletes. Hee) and is torn between being smart and being cool (and attractive--the montage in which she purposely dumbs herself down in order to get closer to TeenMaleAttraction [Col and I agreed that he wasn't all that and, in fact, there hasn't been a really good, cute, and funny teen movie idol since Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You] was just painful). Plus, Lizzy Caplan (Sara, who winds up as Nick's girlfriend) is in it. There's one part of the movie's plot that I just couldn't get with, but it's more than made up for with this line (paraphrased): "You girls need to stop calling each other sluts and whores. It just makes it easier for guys to get away with calling you sluts and whores." I do believe I have a little crush on Tina Fey (she wrote the screenplay, based on this book) No. A big crush.

The other movie I watched recently is Bob Roberts, written/directed by Tim Robbins. If you haven't seen it, I urge you to, though I'll warn you, when it came out in 1992 it was a brilliant political satire, and if I remember correctly it came out just after the Presidential election, when all the Democrats were giddy and celebratory. In 2004 the movie might make you physically ill. I just haven't been able to shake it.

P.S. Enough time has passed for me to no longer hate, but in fact feel great fondness for, Beck's "Loser."

Matthew Sweet's "Girlfriend," to be exact (see post below if this doesn't make sense. Yes, this station has been playing through my computer nearly nonstop since Friday). Matthew Sweet opened for Robyn Hitchcock on February 14, 1992 at the Vic in Chicago. I was there with my friend Kris [oh, of course "Girlfriend" gets followed by "Girlfriend in a Coma." This is so much fun] near the front of a stage (man, I'm too old to do that anymore), where we saw two other people from our school, one of whom I had a massive crush on. Without going into too many details, I totally blew it. It still irks me when I'm reminded of that night and have the time to dwell. I should just never dwell.

You'd think I'd be done with grading, wouldn't you? I have until this afternoon, but I'm not done yet. Another plagiarism case derailed my massive effort yesterday. Last time I was depressed about it, now I'm pissed off. Really. Not only are two paragraphs (at least) lifted directly from an MSN Encarta page (which, given my recent transfer from MSN, is bitterly funny), but there are at least three items in his bibliography that are made up. Not only that, but one of them takes me to a rather embarrassing and offensive sex site. I'm supposed to confront this student and get him to confess to stealing this information, which I find a silly and hollow formality at this point. I emailed the assistant Dean to ask what I should do in this case, because given the nature of the offense, I really don't want to be in the same room with him again unless someone with more authority than me is also present. Ugh. Just thinking about it makes me ill again. Failing him isn't good enough.

[Living Color's "Glamour Boys" is playing now, but I swear it sounds like "Grammar Boy." "I ain't no Grammar Boy--I'm fierce!" Clearly.]

I did manage to do some fun stuff this weekend, and not all of it was cable modem-related (sorry, Ann)--though I did giggle gleefully the first time I was surfing and the phone rang. I can surf while I talk, I am surfing and talking both! First, thanks to Ms. Nake-Id Knits, I have new additions to my spring/summer wardrobe coming. Leslie linked to a clothing boutique called Beqi Clothing, which features skirts and dresses using the coolest fabrics (well, almost as cool as Mariko's), for really affordable prices. I got a couple new skirts and dresses. Shipping is supposed to take 3-4 weeks, which I am not thrilled about, but...given that I lapsed from my diet a couple months ago and now have to start all over again, it gives me a chance to ensure that my body will fit into said dresses and skirts. The best part? Her sizing, in which a medium is listed as 38-30-40. Beqi rules.

Then it was off to Seaport Yarn to meet Iris for a little bargain shopping. Wanna see what I got?



From left: Debbie Bliss cotton cashmere, Blue Heron hand-dyed 100% rayon, Brown Sheep Cotton Fleece

2/3 of this was on sale--the Cotton Fleece for $6.45. I bought it in anticipation of making another Gigi (with modifications--I'd call it Fifi, or Fefu). The cotton cashmere was not on sale, but that color...I couldn't pass up that color. When there wasn't enough of it on the shelf, I grabbed the light yellow and orange skeins, thinking, "stripes!" But when I went to pay for it all, Andrea said there were extra skeins of the purple. By that point I was kinda in love with the idea of a purple sweater with yellow and orange stripes, though, so I added just a couple more of the purple and kept the other colors. Now I think I have enough to do something with ribbing, maybe some sort of cropped top.

But the real score is that rayon. Look at those colors! This was the first thing I spotted when I walked in and as soon as I touched it I knew I had to have it. It's 1500 yds of very thin rayon yarn, and since it was on sale ($20!) I got two to double up and give me enough for a nice cardigan. Let's look at it close up.


drool

It smells really good, too.

Of course, it was great to go yarn shopping with Iris and it was even more of a pleasure to meet the one and only Cheburashka, who takes after her mother in being even more lovely and delightful in person than she appears in pictures.

Why, oh why, does A Wrinkle in Time have to be on at the same time as the season finale of Everwood? I guess I can tape one of them, but getting the antenna in a position where both ABC and the WB come in clearly is a nearly insurmountable challenge.

I'm not happy with the photographs of Gigi that came out, but in the interest of placating the crowd, here's one. Like I said, something's off with the fit, and I think a smaller size would be better for me. What I've got planned for the purple/black version is to use the black for all the ribbing at the bottom of the body and sleeves and the entire neckline, with the possibility of making the neck more of one those off-the-shoulder (Flashdance!) folded-over...what the hell are those called?

I also finished off a present to my mom for Mother's Day. I took the leftover yarn from her socks, made from Koigu in whatever colorway I have listed over in "finito," and knit up a little sachet cushion, using the Quilted Lattice pattern from Barbara Walker's first Treasury.



Using this pattern gave me the idea for the purse I'm working on--almost finished with it. Koigu is perfect for it, but it works better in a colorway that has more color changes. So mom, if you're reading this, that's what you're getting. Like it?

Update: Blogger has added its own comments, which is a good thing, particularly as I now have the option of having them sent to my email inbox (Haloscan charges for that service). The bad news is that it takes too many clicks of the mouse to get to the place to actually leave a comment, and then you're not prompted to leave an email address. I had the settings so that you wouldn't have to register to leave a comment, but that meant that messages were coming into my inbox from "Anonymous," and that's no good. So I've changed it so that you'll need to register, and what I'd appreciate more than anything is if you'd register using an email address that I can use to respond to you. It's like Blogger wants to be Typepad, but just isn't there yet. Perhaps they will continue to make modifications, so I would like to try this out for at least a week or so. If it's too annoying, you can use Tagboard or just email me directly. If you'd like to see the return of the old comments, say so. I'm open to change.

I'm online, my phone line is free, and I'm listening to the best radio station ever: 97X WOXY. Although I'm a bit concerned at the message they have posted:

We had anticipated that the last day of our terrestrial broadcast at 97.7 FM would be around May 1st, but things sometimes take longer than expected, so it now looks like it will be closer to, but no later than, May 13th.

That's the good news ... the bad news is that it might also be our last day broadcasting on the Internet.

I could handle 97X ending their free internet broadcasting, but I refuse to believe that the radio station itself is going under. It's just not possible. But the news guy just announced that it was his last installment of weekend music news, so it must be true. Man, that sucks. Right now, they're going through their entire catalogue of music A through X. They're still on the As ("American Heavy Metal Weekend" by the Circle Jerks. That's right. A commercial radio station playing the Circle Jerks.) Go listen to the station while it lasts, and then you'll know why I'm so bummed.

I will have my cable modem hooked up by the end of the day. Of course, broadcasting this information pretty much ensures that the cable modem hook-up person will not show between the hours of 12 and 4, or that something about my apartment layout will preclude the installation. I know that sounds insane, but that's how my mind works. Something could go wrong. The cable comes in through the kitchen. My computer is two rooms away. There's a truckload of furniture, some of it very heavy, in between. My worst-case scenario is that the guy (assuming it is a guy) will come in, look around, and in the most authentic of Queens accents will say, "Nothing doin', lady."

Modelling shots of Gigi are forthcoming.

I came home from my last day of class (woo hoo!) yesterday to find my copy of Interweave Knits. I was hoping for a number of projects for which I could use my newly acquired cotton yarn, and there's exactly one: Veronik Avery's Victoria Tank, for which I don't have the right sort of body, but it's really pretty and I'm going to make it and pair it with a lacy-ish cardigan with the black yarn from School Products. As for the rest, I was really looking forward to making the Cabaret Raglan , only to find out that it's made with bulky cotton tape and doesn't look as nice all blown up--which might have something to do with the color (Pepto Bismol, anyone?) or the way the model is standing. I do love the bodice pattern and the eyelets on the raglan shaping, and I may just have to adapt this pattern for a different, Coton-Lin-esque yarn (I'm just itching to use it for something). I also like the details on the Lace Blouson, but I don't think I'd make it with the billowy waist. In fact, a number of these patterns seem anti-waist. I absolutely adore the Serape Jacket, but I don't see myself making it. I also like the Juliet Pullover, but I'm not crazy about working with beads. At least, I don't think I am. I've never worked with them before. I just have this image of me overturning the container of beads, sending them scurrying all over the floor, much in the same way my mini zen garden was overturned...I'm never going to vacuum up all that sand. At any rate, I'm still at a loss for what to do with the summery Plassard yarn I got from Threadbear, and I may have to break down and get the Plassard pattern book.

In other news, I'm heading back up to Boston later this month, and I may just be able to go to Knitsmiths. Alittle bird told me that there will be a yarn swap. I hope what I bring is deemed worthy of such an esteemed group of knitters.

She is feenished. She is flirty--see her winking? Click on the picture for a full view.

To recap:

I used almost the same yarn as Bonne Marie did--the Cotton Fleece in Victorian Pink for the body, but I substituted a deep purple for the trim. I made the 40" size and wonder of wonders, it's a little too big on me. I imagined Gigi as fairly snug and curve-enhancing, and what I have is a nice fairly roomy sweater. The ballet neck looks more scoop-neck on me, and the sleeves are longer than 3/4", but the length of the body suits me and I love this sweater. It feels heavenly--not heavy at all, and so soft. I think I may just have to make another one in the colors I originally wanted (lilac with black trim) and size it down--either going to the 38" or something between.

Zank Heaven for Bonne Marie!

Somehow I thought that moving out of the country-ish spot I occupied in Ohio into the auto shop ghetto of Brooklyn would put an end to my springtime allergy woes. Unless I'm allergic to exhaust, though...

I've had allergies since I was about eight. Imagine being the dorky uncoordinated kid at camp who suddenly comes down with a severe case of bronchitis which climaxes in one very scary night in which you wake up unable to breathe at all and are rushed to the emergency room by your mom and grandma. Next thing you know, you're lying face down on an examining table, naked from the waist up, while an allergist makes hundreds of little scratches on your back to determine what it is that you're allergic to. Results: oh, just about everything, except the ones that could kill you, like peanuts and bees. Just the ones that will make your life as a child exceedingly irritating and dull. And painful, every weekend, when you go in for allergy shots that make a welt on your arm like a spider bite. And obnoxious, when you visit your dad and his cat over the summer and he refuses to turn the AC on so the windows can close, blocking the microscopic irritants from entering the house. (This is the guy who keeps his house in North Dakota at 56 degrees during the winter. I can't wait until he's old enough to be cold all the time and jacks up the thermostat to 80 like his parents did.)

Eventually I grew out of most of my allergies, at least enough to no longer require the shots, and then to no longer require the pills. I could be in a room with one cat, though two was pushing it. Dogs still got to me and horses were right out (the thing I missed most about camp was the horseback riding. Dang, I love horses). Fall was still a tricky time of year, because of the dying vegetation and mold. Spring never really affected me that much.

Then I moved to Ohio and within four years was diagnosed with asthma. Someone told me that this was fairly common: move to southwestern Ohio, get asthma. I had an inhaler and everything, and was most grateful that this hadn't happened when I was still a child, because lack of any athletic ability + glasses + baby fat + inhaler + a modicum of brains = well, you do the math. No, I got my inhaler at the peak of geek chic, and it was hot. I decorated it with Sanrio stickers.

My asthma was mild, and when I moved to New York I weaned myself off the inhaler. I thought I was golden, especially since dogs don't really bother me anymore. But now it's spring, and things are budding and blooming and there's that tickle in the back of my throat and my nose has been, um, percolating. In a word, bleh. Time to break out the Claritin.

~~~~~~~~~

Today is Finishing Day, so I'll have pictures of Gigi soon. It's perfect Gigi weather out there, so she may get her inaugural wearing tomorrow for the Last Day of Class (whee!). In lieu of Gigi, I've got pictures of other stuff. Here's a shot of the back of the strappy tank. I call it, "Hey! It's a Lifeless Clump of Stockinette!"



And here, as promised, is the obligatory scrunched-up shot of Charlotte's Web:



You're seeing what I'm seeing, right? THEY MATCH. I've got Coordinating Separates! I'm Liz Claiborne!

Here's the obligatory stretched-out close-up shot of Charlotte:



And now, I'm going to sit in front of my mailbox until Interweave Knits gets here.

I got used to not writing. And I'm still dealing with dial-up woes. Sorry about my week-long absence. For some details of what I've been doing the past week, go see Cari and Rachael (I see Rach has a glut of pictures up from the past week, hooray). Posting the pictures I took now seems redundant, but I've got a couple I'd like to share.

Wednesday was Yarn Day--I feel bit guilty about not saying something about that here but we were kinda playing it by ear--I'm truly sorry if anyone felt left out. Not my intent. I'd make a horrible Cruise Director. Cari, Rach and I went to Knit NY first to fuel up on coffee and pastries and then--surprise!--Iris strolled in, free from her orthodontic hell (well, sort of, as you'll see when you read her blog).



You can see, quite clearly, that we all have something to work on. No yarn shortage here. But after trips to Downtown Yarn and School Products, there's really no shortage--except, perhaps, in the stores themselves. What was that about putting myself on a restriction? Hey, it was a special occasion! Besides, I had very little in the way of cotton and other summery yarns with which to make summertime tops. That has changed.



Spot the theme? I don't know where all this pink is coming from, I really don't. Unless it's some sort of Pink Gene that my mom passed down to me and it hadn't kicked in until now. I will say that knitting has definitely expanded my taste in colors. So, those cones there are both cotton from School Products. The yarn, according to Berta, is very similar to Karabella's Zodiac (a similarity that Iris had noted as well), but just a little lighter in weight. The black yarn will most likely be a cardigan--something like Sitcom Chic but perhaps with an eyelet pattern all around. The pink I just had to get, because I almost got it the last time I was there and opted for red instead. The rest of the haul is from Downtown Yarn. That's Berroco Cotton Twist on the left, with which I am making that strappy tank on the cover of the recent Vogue (inspired by Rachael's version). The pattern calls for two strands of silk yarn doubled, but the Cotton Twist gets the same gauge all by itself. I was torn between this color and a more purply one, but was talked into this by Cari and Rachael (and the fact that there wasn't enough of the purple). I've started the tank already (as Gigi is one crocheted chain away from being finished and I needed another stockinette project to carry along with me) and the Cotton Twist is fairly easy to work with. There's a shiny rayon thread twisted in along with the cotton, which gives the fabric a really nice texture and shine. I'm finding my usual trouble with stitches splitting, but perhaps that's more a sign of my tight knitting.

The yarn on the right is a very special treat: 100% bamboo yarn. I bought enough for a black tank with white and pink stripes--I'm thinking Charlie Brown chevron style. This stuff wasn't cheap, but...I'm going to knit with bamboo!

(Not pictured: the silk/cashmere/wool 400 yds/$10 in shades of blue, purchased from School Products)

I had to go back to school on Thursday, which wasn't easy. After spring break my rhythm is completely off. At least I only have two more classes and then a pile of research papers to grade, and then I'm off for summer--which means, of course, finishing the dissertation and finding some temping work...or, maybe, some not-so-temping work? I've decided that if I can find something satisfying to do over the summer that pays reasonably well (enough to keep my apartment, eat, etc.), I may not go back to teaching, which pays unreasonably unwell. It's a hard choice to make. I know that I could make ends meet if I worked more than one teaching job, but I'm not willing to stretch myself that thin, particularly as an adjunct with no job security and no benefits. I would entertain the idea of keeping my teaching job and adding another part-time gig, because even though that might also be stretching myself thin, it would lend my life a bit of variety, keep it interesting.

The weekend was mellow--I caught up on sleep, dreamt of Maryland, and started my very own Charlotte's Web shawl. I've got 60 rows done and have just begun to add the third color. I'll take one of those obligatory "here it is all scrunched up" pictures when it's not so cloudy, but for now, I swiped the picture of the hanks from Rob's blog:


from the top: P100, P105, P530, P205, P106

Again, the colors are not something I would've picked out for myself three months ago. I was drawn to this particular combination because the greener colorways are similar to the colorway I'm using for a purse (more details on that to follow). Now that I've started on the shawl, I wish I'd gotten one with less pastels (I re-ordered the hanks so that the real pastel colorway is the first, and the hot pink colorway is the last). It's possible that this shawl will find a different home, but I'll wait to see how I feel about it once I add the deeper green and pink colors. Either way, I think that at some point I will request another combination, one with more vibrant reds and purples. And oranges?

Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a cable modem to order.