So. Riding home from work the day before yesterday, I swallowed a bug. Obvious solution: yesterday I rode home with my mouth closed....

But I got a bug in the eye. Don't you wish you could be in Loveland tonight to see me stunt-ride home?

http://www.foulds2000.freeserve.co.uk/economists.htm

It's like the inside of my head: http://www.halfbakery.com

A little song, a little dance, a little seltzer down your pants...

It's remarkable how one never gets to, or remembers to, use funny little phrases in conversation. I will have to become a sitcom writer. Maybe a writer of snappy dramas like Gilmore Girls. Yeah.

How facetious am I being? Oh, the world will never know.

Wild tiny sweaters and socks. Also, Altoids is now making spearmint flavored mints--fabulous. Now I can actually justify purchasing the rectangular tins, mmm, spearmint.

Tornadoes predicted for this afternoon and into tomorrow. Rah! I'm trying to figure out how to use the digital camera in the office--maybe I'll get some interesting shots.

I hafta laugh, Regan--I was going to put up that link to a version of that fish story, too. Saw it on the news last night. Awww.

Which of Henry VIII's wives are you?

this quiz was made by the groovtastic ghouls at Spookbot

Cramps BEFORE your period?! That is so not fucking fair.

Of course, "Life ain't fucking fair," to quote my Dad, Mister DaddyWisdomPops.

It's ithacating. In Loveland. Actually kinda cool--the drought may be over, keep your fingers crossed.

In house advances of the new (summer) Knits are out.

Wow. Apparently, todays theme is "you take the good, you take the bad, you take it all, and there you have the facts of life" (no, I can't remember if those lyrics are quite correct, the point is): I missed lunch, but got free yarn. I wore myself out, but the office reorganization is coming along. We all will have to work harder because we're probably going to put out one more issue each year, but I may get to go to stitches midwest.

Boring work stuff again, nevermind. I'm tired.

Apparently I am "weird" and "scary".

I'm not saying that letters do anything, necessarily, but you have to try-

http://www.web.amnesty.org/web/content.nsf/pages/gbr_nigeria#action

Man, this Johnny Cash album that Ted burnt for me is seriously the scariest thing I have ever heard. I love it.

This recipe prompted me to think of these recipes. There is fuck-all in my fridge, as I noticed in cleaning it out last night. Celery. Yogurt. Tea. Ketchup. Margarine. Curry paste. Mmm--I could make a really something celery curry!

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

The scarf pattern may be published. Keep your fingers crossed! Eee!\

You know what else is good? Lots of things from far away. Like smelters or stars. Also, lots of little things from a middle distance. Like ladybugs or wheat. And teeny things from a bit of distance. Like knitted stitches or skin cells.

:)

The scarf I'm working on for Penny's graduation (please do not send her a link!!!)--linen/viscose, approximately the same size as a household scanner's screen currently, etwas Bauhaus, ich denke mich.

humantorch synthesizes politics beautifully, again.

Aw, man--I just got the email newsletter I've signed up for for this anarchist collective ('s called Breakdown) down in Denver. They have so many cool events planned: lectures and dances and bands.... I so need a truck. It's nice to feel virtuous and all, like you aren't contributing to the war by driving around in a gas-guzzling monster, but I feel like one of the losers in Mad Max who just can't get around. It's enough to make any gal go road pirate.

There's a Rival hair on my keyboard. Sigh.

In better news, FLIASJ arrives tomorrow, hurrah! (New nickname courtesy of THE LADY ESQUIRE, whose blog puts mine to shame.) (Emphasis on Ess-SQUIRE--that's how it sounds good.)

Splash, splash, splash, splash!

(afternoon coffee)

Looks like I will be ordering yarn all day today. Ick.

Going to swing by Walmart on the way home, though, to see what they have in the way of water soluble fabric paints. Mwah ha ha ha, etc. Red, blue, black, green, yellow.

Everything looks better viewed through smoke or water.

It's sprinkling!!!!!!!! O thank you god! I was beginning to feel like my eyballs were going to dry up and crack apart and blow away in the merciless sunshine.

PS--I figured out what bugs me about the color choices made by our art director--they all look like their from the color reproductions of paintings in art textbooks, rather than from the paintings themselves. Darker and grayer than life.

So. I went to the post office, already, and there was no one really there. Perhaps I missed the lunchtime rush by going early? Hmm.

Spoke with Miz Susan last night--big goings on and turning overs at the press; it's wild, and I'm so glad not to have to be there right at this moment. Ooof!

I've discovered an art movement with which I'm in love--have been for a while, I just never put the name together with the pieces: Bauhaus. Wicked cool. I wonder if I might be able to knit pieces that evoke the water color-iness and the lines? Seems like an ideal time to try out my painting-on-knits/domination of the global fashion industry plan, mwah hah hah hah.

Hah. I just went to the library to pick up tax forms, and there was a swarm of people there--I am not the only procrastinator! I am so wary of dropping them in the mail tomorrow, though--I'm afraid they won't get postmarked--and so I'll have to deal with an even bigger swarm at the post office, skaweee!

Additionally: Ms. Regan, you dyed your hair red?!!! That is so rad!

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay! The Bear is coming next weekend!

I cleaned my apartment in appreciation of the fact. It is almost not-smelly.

Other than that, I did fuck-all this weekend!

You never get what you go for, do you? The reading turned out to be fabulous--I wasn't really paying attention when I was invited, and it turned out to be Jonathan Safran Foer on tour for the paperback of Everything is Illuminated, bits of which I'd heard on the radio or read in the TLS or something. He was super-inspiring to listen to, as a 25 year old writer with a sense of humor and more worldly wisdom than most 45 year olds. (And also as a total hottie--have I mentioned that there are no young men in Loveland? It's crazy.) He totally made up for my having to stay over at Kate's, where her roomate's insane cat decided my new sweater was a toy, as was my face as soon as I fell asleep.

So I bought his book. And a copy of a German newspaper for perspective. And then a set of critical essays by David Lodge caught my eye--and then I'd already spent too much money.

Tonight I am going to a book reading at the Tattered Cover in Denver--fuck the reading, though, really. I'm on a shopping expedition. Looking for a new copy of Pale Fire, a biography of Byron, a good translation of Beowulf, and anything I can find on the White Stripes. Guess the theme! Hint: there is one.

Wanna smoke. 'S only eleven, though.

I could work my ass off all day here, and I would still not manage to do everything I want. I wanna get this article on Mister Rogers cardigan done, but Mr. McFeely hasn't yet emailed me back, and for some reason, the curators at the Smithsonian think they're all badass and too good to ring me back. Their poor assistant--I'm driving her nuts.

Huh. I'm really lazy today. Let's play cut and paste into your browser:

You should check this out: http://humantorch.diaryland.com/ --the thing about nematodes.

Also, I dyed my hair really dark brown. I look different, it's crazy.

Hey, man,

I totally spoke with Jascha and Mike yesterday, which was just frikkin' rad. Bobby, I'm sorry I missed you! The phone died!

At work today I am sorting yarn into boxes. This sounds easy, yes? No way--I was thinking I'd sort them by weight and then by chi-chi-ness, but who am I to say that a plain fine handpaint merino is more or less fancy than an angora-viscose blend? It's not like I know the price of each--and worse, it's not like anybody's really going to be looking for them based on cost. Aiee! I am now up to 14 Rubbermaid tubs, and we've bought six more. There's, like, a thousand dollars worth of yarn sitting on the floor here.

Also, I have been designated as the "sweeper" for my end of the third floor hallway for fire evacuations. I have to check the bathrooms, turn on the lights, and close the doors. But I dowanna be responsible for people's lives.

Pilfer
Silver.


Okay, not really.

Goddamit, Blogger, show my frikkin archives or I will pack up and move to diaryland!

I love the White Stripes, o my gosh. The whole thing, the gorgeousness of them, the obvious knowledge of the history of music in the twentieth century, the nods dazu, the originality anyway.

Sigh. I will never be cool.

Free yarn, so lovely, why do you not knit up to the right gauge? Do you not want to be this sweater?

And finally:



Why today was the best day in the office ever. To the left, free yarn. To the right, semi-transparent, rubbery resin casts of wrinkly ol' potatoes. I'm not saying what Susan, the artist, entitled them--I'll leave that up to your imagination.

Yay! New Izzard Quiz! I'm a slut and a squirrel, awesome.


THE SQUIRREL JOKE!
Just because youre profane doesnt mean youre not
hilarious. Youre the unique kind of joke
people remember for a long time.


Which Eddie Izzard Joke Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Little known fact: when I was small, before I'd ever seen a picture of him, having only heard his voice, I thought Billy Idol was a girl.

Suddenly, it's spring. Catkins and tree buds crunching under the wheels of my bike--tough little violets pushing up under trees and through lawns almost as dry as the Mojave. I'm wearing a sleeveless top and revealing my true self to the office--unshaven pits girl away!

Can you say "Crazy Despot"?

I have to return a $50 skein of laceweight alpaca waaaaah! It's leftover from a project, but too nice for us to keep.

But today I am trying to get in touch with the Smithsonian to learn more about the cardigan Mr. Rogers donated to them. My job rawks, mostly.

Got myself totally plastered last night and had a hillarious time chatting with a friend on the phone. What did we talk about? I've very little idea, but it was a good time--I know because I feel so good today. Friends are excellent things. Immunity to hangovers is also pretty dang cool.

I am so incredibly full of nostalgia today. Some of it is Ms. Regs' fault, and some of it's just me. I'm researching Mr. Rogers for work, too, that probably doesn't help. I want a t-shirt with the Misfits on it. I want to be back in school, when everything was new.

Goshdangit, I'm whiny.

Okay, now I'm trying to make a list of things I really really like--that I like so much that I can be nostalgic about them. If I make a list, then I can do those things that I enjoy, and I will be happy, yes? It's harder than you think to come up with a p.c. list though--item #2 is "whiskey on ice", for example. I know, I know, I shouldn't do that too much. "Getting compliments on my ass," is also kinda risky to push for. "Moving really fast".... And those that aren't dangerous require friends that I don't have: #6, "bullshitting". Maybe I can find a movie about all these things, and pretend it's me.