Yarn + HBO = three complete swatches

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I had cable installed yesterday, (if it rots my brain, it rots my brain until August, when I move, Mom) and I spent last watching St. Elmo’s Fire interspersed with snippets of Showgirls during the commercials.

I finished my third swatch. I need to email my mentor and badger her with questions about casting off and blocking, but I’m well on my way to having the first level completed.

Tonight I plan on surprising Jason with a few well-chosen Netflix.

(I got sucked into the Showgirls IMDB listing, and ended up reading that Elizabeth Berkley has different color eyes: right eye is half green and half brown and left eye is green. I know someone else with eyes like that.)

Blah blah blah, yackity smackity, and a nice cold glass of orange juice

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That, my friends, is the line the dad used to say in the short lived cartoon featuring baby Taz.

Le tigre

BoingBoing had a post featuring footage of the 120-degree jaw range of a Tasmanian Tiger, now extinct. This reminded me of the evening I spent watching a three-hour long Discovery channel feature on the Tasmanian Tiger. I don’t know if they did an extra super-duper good job of hooking me in, but despite incredible fatigue, I watched the whole thing. They delved into the history of the Tasmanian Tiger, and how it may or may not be extinct. Throughout the entire show, I was given the impression that they might still be around, and Discovery has it on tape. At the end of the show, round about 1 AM, they wrapped up with a “they may not be extinct, but we may never know” line. I was furious. I was angry not only at Discovery for duping me, but also for the fact that I wanted to see a Tasmanian Tiger, and I never will. (It was a very Violet Beauregarde feeling.) I can’t explain it, but there was a weird feeling of closure when I watched the video.

Analo-gesic

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“Sonya, can you help us out with a good analogy for 1 to 10 million? Here’s where we’re starting – an illustration USA Today-type graph, an ant to an elephant or a penny to a stack taller than the Sears Tower. And I need this by 11:00 a.m.”

Luckily, this is from my favorite Corporate Shill, and I’ll be sure to add an extra version just for her – something perverse. Hup hup!

Country Grammar

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Oh good god.
Do you see what’s wrong with the grammar in this picture? This makes me crazy. This is the acme example of why stupid people shouldn’t make t-shirts with writing.

I blame this equally on my job (as a proofreader) and having read “Eats, Shoots and Leaves“.

Book Meme

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I’ve been (uh, er, more or less) tagged for the following book meme from Tigers in Red Weather.

1)Total number of books in your house:
I was going to estimate by feet, but unlike some, I own a lot of children’s books, and they’re usually thinner. Plus my copy of Infinite Jest hasn’t arrived yet, and it’s 7 feet wide. I’m going to say that I own around 100 books. See, I’m a librarian’s daughter, so I’ve grown up borrowing, and borrow I will until I die.

Although as I am not a librarian myself yet, I haven’t catalogued my collection – give me two year. Post LIS, I will be able to tell you EXACTLY how many books I have.

2)The last book you bought was:
I just bought a knitting reference book for mastery – The Knitter’s Book of Finishing Techniques by Nancie M. Wiseman. It hasn’t shown up yet though.

3)What was the last book you read before reading this?
I just finished reading Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. I hadn’t read it before, and I’m going to see the movie on Tuesday with Yason.

4)Write down 5 (or 6) books you often read or that mean a lot to you.
1) The Little Prince. I have a tattoo of him, for Cripe’s sake. Favorite book ever. If you ever need to borrow a copy in German, Portugese, or French, let me know.

2) I’ve read all the Harry Potters, and I’m gnashing my teeth waiting for July 16 to come around. I went to the downtown Chicago Borders for the midnight release of book 5, and that was tons of fun. Too bad I won’t be in the city to see hundreds of people streaming onto the El with a giant green book in front of their faces.

3) My friends and I all went through that phase where we bought multiple copies of Cunt to give to other friends.

4) I think The Time Traveler’s Wife might end up being a lifetime favorite. Some of it has to do with the circumstances of when you read a book.

5) I’m a big Roald Dahl fan. I love everything I’ve read of his, except The BFG.

6) You know what? With the exception of The Battle for God, I will read just about anything, especially if I get to sit outside in the sun to do so.

5)Who are you going to pass this onto and why?
I’d pass this on to el sig oth, but he hasn’t posted since 1983. Therefore, the most logical people to ask are Jake, as he DOES own Infinate Jest and is the most literate person I know (“Can I show you something in a Dilillo?”); Allison, because I end up reading her books anyway (still have Tropic of Cancer!); and Alena, because I’m obliged to (saysters).

Wasn’t this fun?

Seatbelt, shmeatbelt.

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Hey all. I managed to crash the server that is the cozy home to jeaun.com, Jake’s blog, and my own dear spot. It was awful. Friday went waaaay slower than usual. Plus it was beautiful outside, and I was stuck here until AFTER 5. Travesty.

After work I changed into what I consider to be a very cute outfit, complete with low pigtails and a Mets cap, and met up with the Angela.* As I was driving, windows down, radio up – Q101 surprised me by playing just the right song. All of a sudden, I’m hearing the into to The Impression that I Get by the Mighty Mighty Bosstones. Now, a catchy upbeat song like that is exactly what a girl needs driving in the sunshine on a Friday afternoon, but this particular song (and the whole album) have a special place in my heart – reminding me of the dubbed tape that sat in the outside tape player that my sister and I would listen to over and over as we rollerskated on the tiny patch of concrete driveway. Tiny circles to the left … Ah. So I dug the album out, and listened to it all weekend. Very pleasant.

If you saw me this weekend (and none of you did) you’d think I’d started grad school already. I went to the library on Saturday and checked out every knitting reference book they had. I’m not kidding. There is a splay of books in front of my couch, and I finally know how to make an invisible increase.

You’d think I’d know this stuff, but I never really paid attention – as long as the mitten worked, I didn’t care if there were bar increases. Now, NOW I have to care. On the upside, I’ll be able to kill you with knitting, as I will be a KNITTING MASTER.

I think my swatch yarn will get here between this Friday and next Friday, and in the meantime, I’ve been fooling around with acrylic, just faking the swatches to see if I know what I’m doing. Chomping at the bit.

*Hey – Anglea is almost at her goal for the Avon Breast Cancer walk, which is astounding considering she didn’t start fundraising until the last minute. Props and dormers for Kat and Jake for donating monies. For the rest of you – it’s not toooo laaaaate!

For All Y’all with Fanny Packs and Pony Tails, C’mon

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Sometimes, I kind of like it when decisions are made for me. It takes the pressure off choosing an option, and means that I won’t be at fault for what happens.

I’m going to stay in Waukegan for the summer. Yeah, I know, I’ll miss a bunch of good stuff, but who else are you going to run to when you want to go to 6 Flags? Huh? Nobody.

Last night when I got home, I found the most beautiful manila envelope waiting for me. I have the instructions for the master knitter program.

Seriously, I don’t know if you understand how happy this made me. I’m so excited. I danced around my apartment a while, then read the instructions three times. I can’t wait to start. I emailed the Yahoo Group of master knitters-in-progress to ask if anyone wanted to be a mentor and answer the pesky questions I know I’ll have. Even better than that, a couple of Level 1 starters asked if we could have a support group, and talk our way through the whole thing. I’m so excited. That’s the best idea ever. I’m sure I’ll work faster knowing that there are others I am working with, and I won’t be banging my head against the wall because I don’t understand the directions.

Did I mention I’m excited?

In the News

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Texas House Bans ‘Suggestive’ Cheerleading : on Yahoo! News

… bawdy performances are a distraction for students resulting in pregnancies, dropouts and the spread of sexually transmitted diseases.

Let me tell you a little something about suggestive cheerleading. Cheerleaders and sex have gone together as long as there have been organized sports. There’s the stereotypical slutty-cheerleader thing, and there’s the unattainable-by-geeks-sex-goddess thing.

As a high school cheerleader (random Sonya fact: I was the captain) I realized that wearing a short skirt and flashing my bloomers were not really helping the team. I suppose performing a half-time dance routine kept the massive crowds at Calamus-Wheatland Jr./Sr. High from rioting, but even when I couldn’t come up with one good reason why I was a cheerleader, I knew that I had generations of the same cheerleading rituals behind me.

There’s a fine line between erotic dancing and popular dance moves theseadays. I don’t think there would be many high school squads nationwide that would pass the Texas criteria for non-sexy dancing.

There’s also a fine line between cheerleaders as a pep squad, and a bunch of girls who are on the cusp of sexuality and have been given a tool with which they can wield this power: cheerleading will always be sexually charged until they start wearing stripey pants and stop being eye candy … at which point they will stop being cheerleaders.

Awful dreaming

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I slept horribly last night, not really falling asleepasleep until 6 or 7 – at which point I dreamt that Jen and Dan had a party up at their new place in Rogers Park, and the new apartment was part of a renovated high school, so when we got there we went to the gym to watch a high school basketball game. I decided to leave early, so I went back to their apartment to grab my stuff. My arms were both full, so I had to leave their door open. The hallway was unfinished, and there wasn’t a railing around the balcony that overlooked the floor below. Jen and Dan’s beagle puppy ran out the front door, briefly changed into a white fluffy kitten, then back into a beagle, and out of fright careened around the balcony space and leaped off the edge. I could hear it -thunk- on the floor below, and ran down the steps to see if it was OK. I couldn’t find it, and then I surprised it around a corner, and it was scared and jumped off THAT floor to the floor below. I’m in hysterics because I’m slowly killing Jen and Dan’s dog. I run down the flight of stairs and find the dog waiting patiently for me. He has little spatters of blood all over his coat, but he acts fine. I look at his eyes to check for dilation, but he seems fine.

Then I woke up, and it was 9:16. I don’t know what happened to my alarm.

Leaping beagle puppy
No Sonya, don’t hurt me!