I really have some great things to post about. My party was great. The mousse ended up looking horribly ugly but tasted so good that I almost had to excuse myself from the party to have a chocolate orgasm. But I'm preoccupied.
I'm preoccupied with my taxes. The IRS is good at one thing besides taking money and that is making people feel stupid. I rarely feel stupid. I sometimes feel like I suck at my job. Or that I am absentminded, but I am generally confident in my intelligence. That is until I look at a Schedule D, Instruction booklets 550, 515 and 544, or a form 1099-B. Then I feel like I'm learning cursive. Really, what's the point. The IRS is an intelligence sucker.
Example A: The description from Line 11 of Schedule D:
"Gain from Form 4797, Part I; long-term gain from Forms 2439 and 6252; and long-term gain or (loss) from Forms 4684, 6781, and 8824"
WHAT?
I've been waiting for my 1099 because I had hoped that seeing it would put things right and help me understand what my tax was going to be this year. I imagined a light from the heavens type scenario. No such thing has happened. I called H&R block to make an appointment. She asked me if I was doing a 1040EZ. I asked her if people really came in for help with those. She said yes. No, I said, I don't need help with a 1040 EZ. I said that I needed help with my Schedule D. She asked what that was. The IRS made her look stupider. (Disclaimer: Not knowing what a schedule D in and of itself does not make one look stupid. Working at a place whose main purpose is to do taxes and not knowing what one is does).
Anyway, my appointment is Thursday. I won't be posting tonight or tomorrow night because if I get on the computer at home, I will spend hours obsessing about the calculations. Can't do that.
Tomorrow, I can officially knit again. I've knit already, but don't tell anyone. I'm barely excited.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Thursday, January 26, 2006
HolyCrapOhMiGod Martha Stewart Kicked My Ass
I started this evening's adventure into the joy of baking feeling quite full of myself. Last week, I whipped that coconut cake's ass. I can do it all, right? Wrong.
I got home at 6:30. I talked on the phone with my mom for about 30 minutes and spent a nother 30 minutes calculating the number of poker chips each player could get tomorrow (I determined after several iterations that I need more chips). Anyway, no biggie. Chocolate mousse, I can freakin' do that shit. Little teenie cakes? Man, I can make that shit in my sleep.
But no, Martha, she knows. Martha knows when you think you are a baking goddess. She knows when you think that this recipe that she told her viewers was "very difficult" is going to take you two hours. She sees, she knows, and she sends down the demons of baking karma. Well, I got my ass kicked.
It started well. The little cakes were quite easy. They baked well, no problem. (Aside: the instructions say to trim down the cakes to make things even and pretty. I believe this is a horrible waste of perfectly good cake. If my guests don't want their cakes cause the damn thing has a lump, FINE I'll eat it).
Then I realized that I had to make two separate batches of mousse. I mean, I knew that I was making two flavors: dark and milk chocolate, but I didn't know that I was doing them seperately. So, I decide to step things up and act more efficiently. Well, this is when things really started going to hell. First thing: I burned the milk chocolate. Burned it so badly that there was some crusty burning stuff creeping up from the bottom, smoking up the kitchen and smelling so bad. If nothing else, this made me understand why baking books always tell you to use a double boiler to melt chocoalte instead of the microwave. I tried to rescue it, but there was nothing left to save.
Second, I realize quickly why having a staff to help you bake these cakes is really the way to go. I ran out of bowls about half way through. I'm washing bowls, spatulas, whisk attachements, paddle attachements, where's my pastry bag, how much vanilla did I add, kitty, I can't talk right now. Things are getting crazy. Like this: beat the egg yolks for 5 minutes while melting the choclate over the double boiler while cooking the syrup to add to the egg yolks while trying to make sure you have enough clean bowls for the next step and get to bed before midnight, oh, and don't burn anything.
I sort all this maddness out and create a batch of dark chocolate mousse. It tastes good. I ate quite a bit of it. In fact, after burning the milk chocolate, any pretense of will power was completely thrown out. As soon as I realized I couldn't use the milk chocolate, to prevent a total collapse, I shoved some of the left over bars in my mouth. The mousse looks good.
Now onto the really bad part. Martha says, "Cut eight 10 3/4-by-4-inch strips of parchment paper. Wrap a parchment collar around base of each cake, keeping bottom flush with baking sheet. Secure each collar with tape; set aside." Here are my problems with that instruction.
1) I can't cut. I can't cut to save my life. I can't cut straight lines even with one of those industrial cutter things we have in the office.
2) I don't have any tape. Even if I do, I'm not looking for it. I will use a stapler. It doesn't really work.
3) My parchment paper comes in a roll and wants to keep its roll shape rather than conform to the collar shape.
Basically, I can't do it. I tried for almost five minutes. But I can't make a collar. I sort of freak out and almost cry. So I think, what can I use to keep the mousse where I want it? I think about this for another couple of minutes. FOIL. There's the photo. It's going to work, but the mousse will not set in a pretty circle because foil doesnt' spring back when touch it like parchment. Oh and notice how they are all different heights. The different heights prove to make getting the pastry bag tip down near the cake quite difficult, so some cakes have nice ploops of mousse rather than nicely done layers.
Anyway, I'm done for the night. I only have one type of mousse because I'm not going out at 10 pm to buy milk chocolate or staying up until fucking 11:30 making milk chocolate mousse. I keep telling myself that I'm going to "do it after work" except I have people coming over then and I don't need anyone to see me losing my mind while I make mousse. I don't know. I'm wiped. My kitchen looked like hell after the whole thing. The photo below is in mid-hell recovery. It's clean now, the dishwasher is running, and here's hoping that Glenda the good baking fairy will make the other kind of mousse while I sleep.
I got home at 6:30. I talked on the phone with my mom for about 30 minutes and spent a nother 30 minutes calculating the number of poker chips each player could get tomorrow (I determined after several iterations that I need more chips). Anyway, no biggie. Chocolate mousse, I can freakin' do that shit. Little teenie cakes? Man, I can make that shit in my sleep.
But no, Martha, she knows. Martha knows when you think you are a baking goddess. She knows when you think that this recipe that she told her viewers was "very difficult" is going to take you two hours. She sees, she knows, and she sends down the demons of baking karma. Well, I got my ass kicked.
It started well. The little cakes were quite easy. They baked well, no problem. (Aside: the instructions say to trim down the cakes to make things even and pretty. I believe this is a horrible waste of perfectly good cake. If my guests don't want their cakes cause the damn thing has a lump, FINE I'll eat it).
Then I realized that I had to make two separate batches of mousse. I mean, I knew that I was making two flavors: dark and milk chocolate, but I didn't know that I was doing them seperately. So, I decide to step things up and act more efficiently. Well, this is when things really started going to hell. First thing: I burned the milk chocolate. Burned it so badly that there was some crusty burning stuff creeping up from the bottom, smoking up the kitchen and smelling so bad. If nothing else, this made me understand why baking books always tell you to use a double boiler to melt chocoalte instead of the microwave. I tried to rescue it, but there was nothing left to save.
Second, I realize quickly why having a staff to help you bake these cakes is really the way to go. I ran out of bowls about half way through. I'm washing bowls, spatulas, whisk attachements, paddle attachements, where's my pastry bag, how much vanilla did I add, kitty, I can't talk right now. Things are getting crazy. Like this: beat the egg yolks for 5 minutes while melting the choclate over the double boiler while cooking the syrup to add to the egg yolks while trying to make sure you have enough clean bowls for the next step and get to bed before midnight, oh, and don't burn anything.
I sort all this maddness out and create a batch of dark chocolate mousse. It tastes good. I ate quite a bit of it. In fact, after burning the milk chocolate, any pretense of will power was completely thrown out. As soon as I realized I couldn't use the milk chocolate, to prevent a total collapse, I shoved some of the left over bars in my mouth. The mousse looks good.
Now onto the really bad part. Martha says, "Cut eight 10 3/4-by-4-inch strips of parchment paper. Wrap a parchment collar around base of each cake, keeping bottom flush with baking sheet. Secure each collar with tape; set aside." Here are my problems with that instruction.
1) I can't cut. I can't cut to save my life. I can't cut straight lines even with one of those industrial cutter things we have in the office.
2) I don't have any tape. Even if I do, I'm not looking for it. I will use a stapler. It doesn't really work.
3) My parchment paper comes in a roll and wants to keep its roll shape rather than conform to the collar shape.
Basically, I can't do it. I tried for almost five minutes. But I can't make a collar. I sort of freak out and almost cry. So I think, what can I use to keep the mousse where I want it? I think about this for another couple of minutes. FOIL. There's the photo. It's going to work, but the mousse will not set in a pretty circle because foil doesnt' spring back when touch it like parchment. Oh and notice how they are all different heights. The different heights prove to make getting the pastry bag tip down near the cake quite difficult, so some cakes have nice ploops of mousse rather than nicely done layers.
Anyway, I'm done for the night. I only have one type of mousse because I'm not going out at 10 pm to buy milk chocolate or staying up until fucking 11:30 making milk chocolate mousse. I keep telling myself that I'm going to "do it after work" except I have people coming over then and I don't need anyone to see me losing my mind while I make mousse. I don't know. I'm wiped. My kitchen looked like hell after the whole thing. The photo below is in mid-hell recovery. It's clean now, the dishwasher is running, and here's hoping that Glenda the good baking fairy will make the other kind of mousse while I sleep.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
New Things
I have some new things I would like to share. In order from least to most important...
4) Wireless modem. This has started the revolution of my life. In which I become I blogging fool. In which I meet famous people and attract readers from all corners of the earth. My life is changed. FOR-EVER. Look to the right, there's a photo of it. I shall call it a him. I shall call him Rupert. Rupert is my digital portal lover. Re-read that with a fancy French accent. It's much funnier.
3) Will power. I am making individual chocolate mousse cakes for the
attendees of my poker night on Friday. They are from Martha Stewart's Year of Cakes. Martha is my goddess of all things home. No, she is not yours, she is mine. I am very excited about making them. Anyway, I am blathering on about this because today after work, I went to the store to procure ingredients for my chocolate mousses. Well, I am dying for some chocolate tonight. Just dying for some. And look, there they are. NOT EATEN.2) New bed. I got a sleep number bed. You know the one from the infomercials? The one from the stores in the malls? Well, I got one. I've wanted one for two years. I lo
ve it. I've also covered it with fabulous sheets, duvet and comforter. I can't wait to sleep at night. I have to tell myself NOT to get in bed at 8 pm. My first weekend with the bed is coming soon. We are both very excited... that's the bed and I. Now, technically, this bed is just an expensive air mattress, but there are many many things that make this a special air mattress. I'm coming to you soon, my bed.1) I KNIT THIS. I knit it. All by myself. Using the Lotus Blossom pattern and my yarn from Blackberry ridge (that is, I must say, signifcantly more brown than the paprika in my pantry). I know it's not time for me to be knitting again. I know I am not supposed to be knitting until next week. Yes it hurts a bit. Whatever... isn't it pretty???? Yes knitting isn't new, but it's the first time I've done it this year.
Friday, January 20, 2006
I made this...
This has nothing to do with knitting. I'm still not knitting. Still not talking about not knitting as I'm not sure that even 1-Feb is enough time. We shall not speak of this now.
I've mentioned that I've been cooking up a storm. Well, on Wednesday, my friends Kelly and Ann came over and we made homemade pasta.
It went well; however, three things happened. 1) There was what Kelly is describing as yarn shrapnel in our pasta. Ann and I are knitters, so we don't really care. I bel
ieve this yarn shrapnel to be floating around my house, so woe to he who is allergic to wool and ventures inside. That's Ann and Kelly looking for yarn shrapnel over on the right. 2) No matter how coordinated you think you are, don't even think about rolling 1 lb. of dough out all in one piece. For those of you who don't know, pasta is rolled out using the little hand cranked machine on each of nine different thicknesses. The nine thicknesses go from thick to thin, and as you progress through each one, the dough gets longer and longer. We couldn't take a photo of it, but by the time we reached 8, things were getting way out of hand, and all three of us were holding some portion of the dough. 3) When you roll out the noodles, don't put them in a bowl on top of themselves or you will have homemade pasta cakes. We learned this the hard way. We ended up eating pasta cakes with gorgonzola cream sauce (yummy).
All in all, the experience was a good one. However, next time I will find a way to deal with yarn shrapnel, cut dough into thirds prior to rolling it out and put cut noodles on a cookie sheet with layers separated by wax or parchment paper.
Now, my work of art. I made Martha Stewart's Teatime Coconut Cake last night. It is beautiful. I'm not sure how it will taste, but it looks fabulous. I couldn't get a good picture of the top, but I did a basketweave pattern on it then covered it with sweetened coconut. I only made two of the three layers because 1) I don't need a three layer cake 2) I don't have three cake pans and 3) my oven isn't big enough for three cake pans. I'm bringing the cake to work and will eat it there. I'll let you know how it comes out. The recipe is not easy or quick. You have to make a meringue for the cake and for the frosting. There is no way it can be done without a stand mixer or a food processor with a whisk attachment. Get this, the frosting has 7 egg whites and 5.33 sticks of butter. I know. If you want to make it, the cream of coconut called for will probably be found with the drink mixers; I think most people use it to make pina coladas. Also, the recipe is not specific, but my meringue frosting ended up looking kinda shiny and thick, but I'm not sure if that's right.
I've mentioned that I've been cooking up a storm. Well, on Wednesday, my friends Kelly and Ann came over and we made homemade pasta.
It went well; however, three things happened. 1) There was what Kelly is describing as yarn shrapnel in our pasta. Ann and I are knitters, so we don't really care. I bel
ieve this yarn shrapnel to be floating around my house, so woe to he who is allergic to wool and ventures inside. That's Ann and Kelly looking for yarn shrapnel over on the right. 2) No matter how coordinated you think you are, don't even think about rolling 1 lb. of dough out all in one piece. For those of you who don't know, pasta is rolled out using the little hand cranked machine on each of nine different thicknesses. The nine thicknesses go from thick to thin, and as you progress through each one, the dough gets longer and longer. We couldn't take a photo of it, but by the time we reached 8, things were getting way out of hand, and all three of us were holding some portion of the dough. 3) When you roll out the noodles, don't put them in a bowl on top of themselves or you will have homemade pasta cakes. We learned this the hard way. We ended up eating pasta cakes with gorgonzola cream sauce (yummy).All in all, the experience was a good one. However, next time I will find a way to deal with yarn shrapnel, cut dough into thirds prior to rolling it out and put cut noodles on a cookie sheet with layers separated by wax or parchment paper.
Now, my work of art. I made Martha Stewart's Teatime Coconut Cake last night. It is beautiful. I'm not sure how it will taste, but it looks fabulous. I couldn't get a good picture of the top, but I did a basketweave pattern on it then covered it with sweetened coconut. I only made two of the three layers because 1) I don't need a three layer cake 2) I don't have three cake pans and 3) my oven isn't big enough for three cake pans. I'm bringing the cake to work and will eat it there. I'll let you know how it comes out. The recipe is not easy or quick. You have to make a meringue for the cake and for the frosting. There is no way it can be done without a stand mixer or a food processor with a whisk attachment. Get this, the frosting has 7 egg whites and 5.33 sticks of butter. I know. If you want to make it, the cream of coconut called for will probably be found with the drink mixers; I think most people use it to make pina coladas. Also, the recipe is not specific, but my meringue frosting ended up looking kinda shiny and thick, but I'm not sure if that's right.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
In the spirit of procrastination...
I am sitting on the floor with all my makeup on, wearing a bra, underwear and the shoes for the company dinner. Why no clothes? Well, to make my clothes that in all actuality come no where near meeting the definition of "semi-formal" look more semi-formal, I am going in all black. White cat hair lurks about my apartment, so I try to get dressed at the last moment.
I hate shopping. It has something to do with genetics: my mom hates it and so does her mom. Of course, it could be nurture. If you grow up going shopping with someone who continually mumbles, "I [expletive] hate shopping" during most of your trip, you have very little hope of coming out pro-shopper. In addition to the hate-shopping pre-disposition, the fact that I spend the years 2001-2004 going up a size each season doesn't help things. However, I value my career enough to appreciate that wearing my usual black slacks, collared shirt and birkenstock loafers to the company dinner is not a wise move. Of course, in the spirit of avoiding that which makes me unhappy, I waited until today at noon to buy clothes for the dinner that starts in 15 minutes.
My shopping trips usually go like this: I get to the store (which for me is always Lane Bryant) pick out some things that I think are "my style", try them on, hate them all, dive into the depths of body image despair, cry (this step is optional), buy something I hate, and spend the evening for which I went shopping wishing I was wearing something different. Well, I have realized this is not productive. Today, as I hung up my first round of clothing, I repeated "this will not ruin your day" several times and proceeded to hate everything I had in the dressing room. (Aside: Lane Bryant has these new Gaucho trousers that looks so cute in the photo, coming up to just below the knee. On short little me, they go to my ankle and look really dumb. Really dumb.)
Since I am on the verge of being a grown-up, I decided that I was not going to continue this self destructive pattern and that I needed to elicit some help from my friendly neighborhood Lane Bryant staffer. Well, when I told her my size, she looked at me like I was nuts and picked out some things. I tried them all on came out to show her, and she said something like, "Girl, you don't wear size ZZ, that is too big. Let me get you size ZZ-1." I was delighted but weary. I don't like tight things. I don't like things that fit. But whatever... Well, she was right. I have now lost 2 pants sizes and 3 top sizes. ISN'T THAT FUCKING GREAT? I'll tell you, YES IT IS.
So, I am donning my new ZZ-1 size shirt (that's not a real size by the way, I am refraining from revealing the real one... oh, by the way, I am now, as I write this, officially late for the company dinner's cocktail hour) when my new sales person friend says something like, "You need a different bra." I look at her skeptically, Wha? "Your bra isn't right." She whips out the tape measure and says, "See, you don't wear that size, you wear this, smaller size. Hold on........ Here put this on." I say that it looks great, but it's padded. She says, "I know. Put it on." I appreciate her bossiness. And again, she was right. I came out of the dressing room and exclaimed, "It's like I have a new pair of boobs!" to the amusement of several other shoppers (for those of you who don't know me, I am a very loud person, especially when I am excited). I asked her if it would be rude if I looked at my own boobs all night. She said no, but I should probably stop touching them. I looked down sheepishly and removed my hands. I was so excited, I hugged her and said proceeded to thank her many many times.
So, I don't hate what I am wearing tonight. I actually quite like it. The top is actually my third choice, but my first two choices were too big (I FUCKING LOVE THAT), so I have what I have. Ok, I have to go... uggggg. At least my boobs look good.
Post Dinner Update: So, it is Sunday morning. I was really torn about whether or not to post about the dinner. I was sure that soemthing funny enough to post about would happen. If not that, I figured something moderatly exciting enough to make fun of would happen. But you know what? Nothing happened. I would talk about how bored I was, but I'm not posting about work.
I hate shopping. It has something to do with genetics: my mom hates it and so does her mom. Of course, it could be nurture. If you grow up going shopping with someone who continually mumbles, "I [expletive] hate shopping" during most of your trip, you have very little hope of coming out pro-shopper. In addition to the hate-shopping pre-disposition, the fact that I spend the years 2001-2004 going up a size each season doesn't help things. However, I value my career enough to appreciate that wearing my usual black slacks, collared shirt and birkenstock loafers to the company dinner is not a wise move. Of course, in the spirit of avoiding that which makes me unhappy, I waited until today at noon to buy clothes for the dinner that starts in 15 minutes.
My shopping trips usually go like this: I get to the store (which for me is always Lane Bryant) pick out some things that I think are "my style", try them on, hate them all, dive into the depths of body image despair, cry (this step is optional), buy something I hate, and spend the evening for which I went shopping wishing I was wearing something different. Well, I have realized this is not productive. Today, as I hung up my first round of clothing, I repeated "this will not ruin your day" several times and proceeded to hate everything I had in the dressing room. (Aside: Lane Bryant has these new Gaucho trousers that looks so cute in the photo, coming up to just below the knee. On short little me, they go to my ankle and look really dumb. Really dumb.)
Since I am on the verge of being a grown-up, I decided that I was not going to continue this self destructive pattern and that I needed to elicit some help from my friendly neighborhood Lane Bryant staffer. Well, when I told her my size, she looked at me like I was nuts and picked out some things. I tried them all on came out to show her, and she said something like, "Girl, you don't wear size ZZ, that is too big. Let me get you size ZZ-1." I was delighted but weary. I don't like tight things. I don't like things that fit. But whatever... Well, she was right. I have now lost 2 pants sizes and 3 top sizes. ISN'T THAT FUCKING GREAT? I'll tell you, YES IT IS.
So, I am donning my new ZZ-1 size shirt (that's not a real size by the way, I am refraining from revealing the real one... oh, by the way, I am now, as I write this, officially late for the company dinner's cocktail hour) when my new sales person friend says something like, "You need a different bra." I look at her skeptically, Wha? "Your bra isn't right." She whips out the tape measure and says, "See, you don't wear that size, you wear this, smaller size. Hold on........ Here put this on." I say that it looks great, but it's padded. She says, "I know. Put it on." I appreciate her bossiness. And again, she was right. I came out of the dressing room and exclaimed, "It's like I have a new pair of boobs!" to the amusement of several other shoppers (for those of you who don't know me, I am a very loud person, especially when I am excited). I asked her if it would be rude if I looked at my own boobs all night. She said no, but I should probably stop touching them. I looked down sheepishly and removed my hands. I was so excited, I hugged her and said proceeded to thank her many many times.
So, I don't hate what I am wearing tonight. I actually quite like it. The top is actually my third choice, but my first two choices were too big (I FUCKING LOVE THAT), so I have what I have. Ok, I have to go... uggggg. At least my boobs look good.
Post Dinner Update: So, it is Sunday morning. I was really torn about whether or not to post about the dinner. I was sure that soemthing funny enough to post about would happen. If not that, I figured something moderatly exciting enough to make fun of would happen. But you know what? Nothing happened. I would talk about how bored I was, but I'm not posting about work.
Friday, January 13, 2006
Long Time no post...
My friend Becky sent me an IM yesterday that read something like: "Write something funny on your blog so I can laugh." I will try to oblige her (though many seem to forget that you really just can't force the sarcasm). Our conversation then took a turn to the absurd as we went on and on about the dramatic effect ethylene production cost calculations have on a man's libido (we decided that it was an insane turn on, almost as good as big bubbies). I hoped that humor was enough to keep her happy for a couple days. But this morning, I woke up at an annoying hour, and decided to be productive.
When my friend Charles and I have a lot to say to each other but are too lazy to create moving prose, we send either bulleted or numbered lists. It's not as pretty, but works just the same. So now, the blog gets the bullet treatment.
When my friend Charles and I have a lot to say to each other but are too lazy to create moving prose, we send either bulleted or numbered lists. It's not as pretty, but works just the same. So now, the blog gets the bullet treatment.
- That same friend, Charles, is coming to visit. Well, he's passing through Houston on his way back from a vacation in the Netherland Antilles and changed his flight to stay a night here. In the spirit of full disclosure, this friend is also an ex-boyfriend. An ex-boyfriend that I let slip away as I dove head on into an extended bout with depression. But anyway, I'm excited, nervous, wondering what we are going to do, excited, nervous... I'm mostly excited. I'm nervous because I'm me, and I get nervous about everything.
- Speaking of nervous, my company is having its annual dinner this week. I'm barely excited. I'm mostly nervous. I'm going stag which is, I believe, is almost as bad as coming with a homeless man. I've also been warned about a greeting line (that I missed last year due to my late arrival) in which the women are hugged and kissed on the cheeks by the President and one of the Vice Presidents of the company. I could go on and on about my dislike of being touched and all the caveats that go with that dislike, but I will spare you all and just say that this might as well be the annual ritual of walking on hot coals (in that I, in no way, think it is fun or value adding). But beyond the kissing obstacle course, I have to sit with people I work with, talk about bullshit, and be nice to the wives. Though as a single person, I have a sinking feeling that I'm going to be sitting at the "no-date" table with all the people from satellite offices that I don't know (So what is living in Singapore like? ... feign interest, feign interest)
- Oh, and on that same nervous theme, I am purchasing large, expensive quantities of furniture this evening which likely explains the 5 am wake up.
- Overcompensation: when I was in grad school, my cats spent every day outside frolicking in the plants around my apartment. Now, in Houston, they spend every day lounging around the apartment and every evening looking at me like they expect me to entertain them in one way or another. So, to compensate for feelings of guilt and cat neglect, I bought them this excessively large, taking up lots of room, cat tower:
- Oh, I managed to control myself around the goat cheese salad long enough to take a photo. Yum-My. Those are dried cherries not XXL raisins. Oh, and yes, those are homemade goat cheese rounds (no I didn't make the cheese, but I did coat them with the coating stuff)
- Remember that resolution about not buying yarn for which I have no projects? Well, my LYS had a sale on December 30 and 31 and, well, I just couldn't resist. I was sick, so I couldn't go to the sale myself (yes, I was that sick), but Ann went. I told her to buy me two balls of yarn. She asked which yarn. I told her, "You know which yarn; the yarn I drool over every time we go into the yarn store." Oh that yarn. She called me from the yarn store the day after the resolution post was on the blog to confirm my purchase. I hesitated. I asked her if she was touching it. She said yes. I told her to rub it on the phone (I'm one of those people that rubs yarn on her face to determine softness). She did so. I told her to buy it. Rationalization: New Year's Resolutions don't start until the New Year does. (it's Karabella Boise)
That's good for now. Have a good weekend. I probably won't post much about the company dinner because I'm not blogging anonymously, so I try to avoid posting about work.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
excitement
I have very exciting news. I bought yarn. I know people do it all the time, but I bought some, and I can't wait. I haven't bought any for way too long.
So what did I buy? Well, I'm totally and unabashedly copying Juno and planning to make the Lotus Blossom Shawl out of the Blackberry Ridge Silk Blend. I even ordered the same color, paprika. I am doing this because 1) Look how beautifully hers turned out. Really, it's so pretty. 2) I like her blog, and she seems fun. and 3) She keeps posting pictures of and talking about this hunk of brown wool (that really just looks like a plain old brown wool to me) in a way that's quite endearing.
But really. I like reds that's why I got paprika. I was going to get purple, but my recent attraction to that color is puzzling me a bit, so I am trying to stay away until I, you know, get to the bottom of it. The last wool/silk blend I knit with was Lorna's Laces Lion and Lamb which was the single most wonderful thing I've ever put on knitting needles, so this yarn has stiff competition. And I can't wait to knit the Lotus Blossom shawl.
Honestly, I can't wait to knit. I would even knit with Red Heart 100% Acrylic No Dye Lot yarn if I didn't think it would hurt. To compensate, I have been cooking up a storm lately. Voila le salad avec baked goat cheese. Voila le mushroom soup. Voila le cake I can't stop eating.
(OK, those "voilas" were going to be accompanied by photos, but after making the salad and soup last night, I ate them so quickly and so excitedly that I totally forgot about photos... so just imagine a mixed green salad with dried cherries, granny smith apples, herbed baked goat cheese rounds and a mustard shallot vinagrette. I know, yummy).
I have also been seriously considering beginning an exercise regime. The considering is keeping me quite busy; it's probably helping my muscle tone almost as much as exercising.
My post volume should go up considerably soon as my new laptop is coming!!! Can't wait.
So what did I buy? Well, I'm totally and unabashedly copying Juno and planning to make the Lotus Blossom Shawl out of the Blackberry Ridge Silk Blend. I even ordered the same color, paprika. I am doing this because 1) Look how beautifully hers turned out. Really, it's so pretty. 2) I like her blog, and she seems fun. and 3) She keeps posting pictures of and talking about this hunk of brown wool (that really just looks like a plain old brown wool to me) in a way that's quite endearing.
But really. I like reds that's why I got paprika. I was going to get purple, but my recent attraction to that color is puzzling me a bit, so I am trying to stay away until I, you know, get to the bottom of it. The last wool/silk blend I knit with was Lorna's Laces Lion and Lamb which was the single most wonderful thing I've ever put on knitting needles, so this yarn has stiff competition. And I can't wait to knit the Lotus Blossom shawl.
Honestly, I can't wait to knit. I would even knit with Red Heart 100% Acrylic No Dye Lot yarn if I didn't think it would hurt. To compensate, I have been cooking up a storm lately. Voila le salad avec baked goat cheese. Voila le mushroom soup. Voila le cake I can't stop eating.
(OK, those "voilas" were going to be accompanied by photos, but after making the salad and soup last night, I ate them so quickly and so excitedly that I totally forgot about photos... so just imagine a mixed green salad with dried cherries, granny smith apples, herbed baked goat cheese rounds and a mustard shallot vinagrette. I know, yummy).
I have also been seriously considering beginning an exercise regime. The considering is keeping me quite busy; it's probably helping my muscle tone almost as much as exercising.
My post volume should go up considerably soon as my new laptop is coming!!! Can't wait.
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