Skirts and dames

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woodgrain skirt

This is the skirt at Target I am going to buy today. I don’t even care that I’m paying full price, and that full price is a full $24.99. It’s woodgrain, for Cripe’s sake.

Update: As it turns out, the skirt comes to about mid-calf, and doesn’t pleat as cutely – it’s more fabric than I thought. I had a talk with myself in the dressing room, and decided that it’s not the bee’s knees (especially since it covered mine). I’m taking the chance that it might go on sale, and will go see if there’s a better, more awesome fabric at Joann’s. Ha.

Doesn’t this look like the Picasso lounge?

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This is the beautiful result of people who love books and moving stuff around. If you’ve built a rock wall, and like playing bar, this is the natural result.

book bar

It looks a lot like the house I used to hang out in during college. I believe that spot is now a parking lot on the corner of Brady and Lombard. Realistically, it probably looks like everyone’s college hangout. I mean, the pride of bottles and beer cartons on the wall is really a specific time in every decorator’s life. It’s one grade above the bottles filled with water and the core of a highlighter in front of a blacklight in your dorm window.

Huppy birthday, E.tech

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It will probably pass this time. I made an analogy tonight that passing Level 1 is like getting pregnant. It’s a little daunting, but not nearly as frightening and difficult as Level 2: actual baby. I have to knit an argyle sock, for Cripe’s sake. We won’t even talk about Level 3, mostly because I can’t figure out what’s more difficult than having a child.

Hi, Stephanie! Miss you!
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This picture is a little confusing,
because it is E who is presenting a fine roll of homemade maki,
when it is indeed HER birthday today.

Two birds, one maki. Click on E for pictures from her birthday party AND the sushi and Peeps-making party.

TKGA Knitting Masters Submission: Redux

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It will probably pass this time. I made an analogy tonight that passing Level 1 is like getting pregnant. It’s a little daunting, but not nearly as frightening and difficult as Level 2: actual baby. I have to knit an argyle sock, for Cripe’s sake. We won’t even talk about Level 3, mostly because I can’t figure out what’s more difficult than having a child.

Hi, Stephanie! Miss you!

Overhead in Basil Thai Cafe

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“No, I’m serious. There’s something really weird about library science.”

silence. friends nodding.

“I don’t know what it is about library science that’s so cultish, but I want to apply and find out.”
“Yeah, I heard that a guy got trapped in the stacks once. He was there at the end of the night, and they locked up with him still in there. Instead of using one of the phones, he took a stool and broke a window to get out.”
“What about the guy who was living there? I heard he was there for, like, two months before they found him. He had a lamp and a cot inbetween the shelves.”
“Well, and it’s haunted.”

nods of agreement.

Your virtual blog-sent Christmas letter

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Dear So-and-so,

Well, another year is tucked firmly into the ol’ manila envelope. Because you know me, you understand why I think you want to hear about my year.

Boy, there have been a lot of changes around here! Last year this time I was waking up in the dark to NPR voices saying “six more were killed in Fallujah today” in that NPR-British accent, crying, then moping my way to the train that would take me to the corporate hellhole.

Since then, I dazzled (or spazzled) my way into grad school. In July Jason and I went on a sweet sweet roadtrip which included some quality time in New Orleans. This comes up later.

Round about the end of July, I moved out of my apartment, gave up my cat (named Katrina – mere weeks before the hideous natural disaster, which I feel is entirely my fault), and moved down to Champaign, IL.

I have a whole semester of grad school under my belt, and I finally feel I’m back on the overly lucky track of yore. I love grad school, I love learning about library crap, and I love that in a mere year, I’ll be done.

So, in case you’re skimming, life is good. I’m doing well, and you shouldn’t worry about me.

I’m stuck in the Chemistry Library today, but then I go home for a full bonanza of family happiness, then off to DC and NC for a fabulous, East Coast New Years where I get to hang out with friends and see family I miss dearly. (Molly! Tommy Vu! I’m coming!)

Not that I’ve posted a lot this semester (due to my enjoying my work and being busy during the day, and having other creative outlets), but it may be a bit sparse between now and the new year (which I’ve again promised myself I will not make into a terrible joke, every time I see someone – “Well, I guess I’ll see you next YEAR … guffaw, guffaw.”)

Have a stellar rest-of-the-year. I miss you terribly.
L o v e ,
S o n y a

Secular gifting

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There’s something really nice about thinking of someone you love, and thinking of something you could buy them. For instance, given a bottomless wallet, I would buy my friend Angela a professional membership to LibraryThing or my brother a kayak.

But there’s something I don’t like about Christmas. I think it’s that I don’t get to savor the individual gifts I’m giving people, nor do I get to savor the gifts I get. Just today, I packed up a whole bunch of presents to send, and the doorbell rang. It was the always and standardly attractive guy from UPS.

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So then I totally forgot about the satisfaction of buying the perfect book for a 9 year old, and proceeded to pet my new sewing machine.

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I’ve been wanting this particular machine for about a year now, ever since I read this. Jason got it for me as a non-Christmas, just happens to be during the holidays, we don’t usually exchange gifts-gift.