A Couple of Photos

I knit a swatch of Colinette's Wigwam, potentially to be used for Salt Peanuts. Can you spell expensive cardigan? Oh, I can: Colinette Wigwam. It's so pretty and really nice to work with, but good lord, it is so expensive. It's like, in the spirit of wasting my hard earned money on over-priced cotton, I make this cardigan. Here's my rationalization on the cotton. 1) cotton is much more practical in Houston than wool. 2) I can't find wool tape in a decent color 3) tape knits up significantly differently than regular yarn so I'd rather use cotton than nothing 4) if it turns out crappy, at least I'll have an expensive lesson. But I got gauge on it, so at least that portion of the knitting will be less difficult.

Diabetic Cat: I never thought I would be doing this for my cat, but here we are. Sheesh. Insulin smells very bad. It smells like Band-Aids only more so. I can't think of any way to describe it. Blah. I think the cat is getting wise to the sophisticated "distract him with food" method I am using to administer his insulin. Oh, and the vet had to up his dose from 2 to 3 mm cause his blood sugar was still too high yesterday. Get this, the freakin glucometer you see featured in my photo costs less than a blood test done by the vet. I'm shopping for needles today; allegedly they are the most costly portion of this diabetic cat endeavor.

Oh and remember all that making fun of I did about the number of drugstores near my house. Well, I take it back. Yesterday's research proves that two out of three Walgreen's pharmacists are stupid and can't help you find the glucometer that your vet insisted you get and that they definitely have cause it's branded under the Walgreen's name. It's nice when you only have to drive three miles to find that out.

And what do you do on Sunday morning? Well, I edit my boss' paper. The paper that he totally rushed through and that is full of silly mistakes.

Have a good day.

And when do you expect the grownups to arrive?

This week has been "one of those weeks" in so many ways. Every morning I wake up my cheerful and optimistic self only to be slammed with the details of life.

I was supposed to take Monday off. It was going to be great. Get out of Houston, explore the area. Well, no such luck. My kitty has been drinking so much water lately. I thought he was just being a pig, but I did a bit of research on Sunday night and saw that increased water consumption is a sign of diabetes. That left me unable to sleep Sunday night.

I called the vet first thing Monday morning. They said that, Yes, that is a sign of diabetes and that I should bring him in so that I could get him checked out. Rather than spend the morning at home obsessing about my cat, I decided to go to work and obsess about that. On the way to the vet's the cat got completely spooked by a carpet shampooing machine in the stairwell and pissed all over his cage. That was fun (luckily the people at the vet's took care of most of the cleaning for me).

Well, yesterday morning I found out that my cat does, in fact, have diabetes and that I'm going to have to start giving him insulin shots. He's freakin' 5 years old, folks. Then, soon after finding out, I had what will be known, in my mind, as one of the worst. meetings. ever. That I left seriously pissed and near my breaking point. Prior my good anger management training, I would have started screaming at people. However, new Kristen just gets in her car and cries. New Kristen gets home and sobs. And knits a few rows. But then I felt better. I'm not sure that's exactly what the anger management people had in mind, but at least I didn't scream at anyone.

This morning, I faced the daunting challenge that is getting cats in the cat carrier. After shoving one cat in butt first, pulling another cat from under the bed, and listening to my little babies cry, I took them both out to the car, brought my breakfast, purse and knitting to the car, and tried to start it. Of course, as the universe exacts its revenge on me for gossiping about co-workers, giving my cat diabetes and having an annoyingly positive outlook on things, it won't start.

Now I get to play the game that women around the world love: Is the mechanic just trying to rip me off? I always dread the call: "Ma'am your car needs a new transmission, engine, exhaust system, oil change, and tire rotation. Oh and the reason it won't start is that the starter is dead." Then I always say, "Well how was it running if all those things are broken?" And then they say (they must have training for this), "Well Miss, these things are about to break and will cause serious problems once they do. These problems will ruin your life, kill your cats, and make it impossible for you to find a man that wants to marry you." Assholes.

And it's only Wednesday morning. Not only have I found out that my cat has a disease that is going to cost me some unknown amount of money to treat. But my car is broken which always ends up costing a TON. And the tow truck is NEVER going to get here. And I still have to go through the rest of this day, tomorrow and Friday.

In which I prove a point

Dear Mr. & Mrs. Blackberry Ridge,

I've had a feeling about my Blackberry Ridge Silk/Wool Fingering Weight since I received it. Namely, I felt that it was not the right color. Now, I don't think that the wrong color was shipped to me; I've just felt that it was not really paprika. I really like the wool, and my shawl is turning out beautifully. However, it is not paprika colored.

Today at Whole Foods in a moment of inspired dorkiness, I decided to buy some paprika in order to compare the colors. When I got home, I noticed that the chili powder I bought (for vegetarian chili since the annual three days of chili weather in Houston are here) closely matched the color of the yarn.

Exhibit A: Chili powder on left, paprika on right

Exhibit B: Different lighting/surface. Paprika on left, chili powder on right.

Now, this is not a serious error, but it is one that I feel should be corrected. If you feel that you need to include my name in the color's new name, please do not hesitate. I think the whole line could be renamed to something like: Homiquest's Silk Wool Fingering Weight. The color formerly known as paprika can be called: Slightly Lighter Than Whole Foods Chili Powder Colored. Something with a little more flair like: Kristen's-Color-that-she-made-a-beatiful-shawl-out-of-because-she-is-the-most-beatiful,-talanted,-witty,-intelligent-knitter-we've ever-received-a letter-from-regarding-yarn-color-if-not-ever, is a perfeclty acceptable alternative.

Sincerely,

Kristen

I am concerned

People always bemoan Starbucks' ongoing attempts to acquire the world. In fact, those who scorn "the regular" in life often bemoan the normalcy of purchasing a Grande [insert annoyingly long list of adjectives here] latte every morning on the way to work. Well, all you abnormal seekers, I have found something even more disturbing.

In the immediate vicinity of my apartment, there are SIX drugstores. SIX. Here's a map for your viewing pleasure. I actually decided to write this post when I thought there were five, but an examination of CVS.com and Walgreens.com turned up yet another. Oh, and there's only one stand alone Starbucks and one grocery store integrated Starbucks (which is a franchise).

What's "immediate vicinity" mean? One mile each way, east and west and one half mile north. There are two more one half mile south, but I don't ever go that way. Now I'm extremely interested in the per-capita drugstore capacity of my little corner of Houston (why would one be interested in that: cause one is a big dork).

People of the world, we need to seriously examine the ramifications of this huge number of drug stores. Are we this sick? Do we need expensive soda this badly? Do we need pantyhose this often? Do we all understand how much more every day goods cost when purchased at these stores? I'm amazed. So, instead of stopping your friends when they say they love Starbucks, stop them when they say they have to run to CVS. Think about it.

Cool New Music: The Nethers Kinda Mazzy-starish. I like it. Oh, this is what bothers me about Houston. Nethers tour: Baton Rouge, San Antonio, Austin, Phoenix. HELLO, you skipped the fourth largest city in the nation. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah is doing something similar: Fort Worth, Austin, Tuscon. But I might drive to Fort Worth for them. We'll see. Not Austin cause it's for SXSW, and I'm not braving that alone.

This is my 100th post

Yeah for me. 100th post.

I've become convinced that my life will be significantly better if I knit Salt Peanuts from Interweave Spring 2004. I'm not sure why I'm convinced of this, but I am. I sort of get this way about things. I think that part of what's fueling is the obsession is the fact that the recommended yarn has been discontinued, so finding a substitute has become the manifestation of all that could be in my life.

Luckily, one of two things happens when I get this way. 1) I solve the problem getting in the way of the fulfillment of obsession (wrong yarn, not knowing enough people to get a regular poker game together, that he doesn't even know I exist). 2) I obsess for a period of 2 weeks to 2 months and then get over it.

I like the accupuncture. My thumbs really feel great when I get done. My hands sorta hurt, but the thumbs feel good. I'm giving her two weeks.

I met with my personal trainer for the first time today. It was fun. We shall see. I'm giving her 20 sessions.

I had vegatarian smoked quail from my favorite vegetarian restuarant in Houston for dinner. It was too meaty. Vegetarian quail was too meaty.

I'm going to see Alvin Aily Saturday night. I'm very excited. I haven't seen live dance since December 3.

I'm taking Monday off. I'm going to Big Thicket National Preserve to look for carnivorous plants. That's how I will relax. You know that there will be mosquitoes in this park in February? That's right. Here in Texas, we have mosquitoes all year. Not just for four months (Indiana) or 6 months (Virginia). I will take pictures of these alleged bug eating plants.

Leaps and Bounds

Someone at my LYS recommended an accupuncturist to me on Sunday. I figured what the hell and went to see her today. I understood every other word the woman said cause she had a very thick Chinese accent. I'm not good at understanding accents. But I got across thumbs hurting, and I could feel it working. The thumbs are giving a thumbs up. We shall see.

I slept like crap yesterday. My neighbor was visiting with her friends the LHB (that's local herd of buffalo) and washing all their clothes. Between the clomping about and washing machine noise, I had a hard time falling asleep. The only reason I am awake is to see John Stewart making fun of Dick Cheney.

The leaps and bounds refers to the Lotus Blossom Shawl which is really blossoming (I'm sorry, I really couldn't resist that one. I mean, who could?). It's almost like I increase 1 stitch per row (again bad joke; I blame the buffalo). Amazing. I'm about half way through. The photo's not so good, but it's like proof that my knitting exists.

And now for the greatest thing. Ever. I can't even tell you how much I love this yarn. I love it. I heart it. Heart heart heart.

It's my Karabella Boise. It's expensive but sooooo worth it. It wants to live next to my neck. It told me so. It's becoming a scarf. I told it that it could stay in my new bed with me, but it told me I was being silly.

And to keep me busy for another 20 minutes, I will complain about nasty spitting man that lives in my apartment building. There's this guy who smokes outside all the time. For whatever reason, he smokes despite the fact that it causes him to make these disgusting spitting noises. Think of the worst, deep from the back of the throat noise, collecting the nastiness in the mouth, loudly spit. He does this at least three times each cigarette. Oh, and spitting noise sounds like a 60 year old person with emphysema but the dude looks like he's at most 22. Makes me want to vomit every time. The worst part is that he stands in a place such that it echoes through the stairwell. For a while, I thought he was actually right outside my door, but one day I poked my head outside and saw him on the other side of the building. I think that next time he's doing it I will ask him not to stand in the prime echo location. GROSS. Look, there are many reasons that smoking is gross. And I'm not above it: I like the occasional cigarette with drinks, but I don't get why this guy continues to do it if he obviously has such an adverse spitting reaction to it. Don't his friends want to vomit when he smokes, too? Couldn't they say, hey buddy, you sound like an 80 year old when you make that gross noise? Ick.

GOT MY TICKETS, BABY

Manchester, TN here we come!

bonnaroo.com/2006

So excited.

Ok, I must leave my apartment now. My smoke alarm has been chirping since 7:30 and my ceilings are too high for me to reach, so I have to suffer until the apartment staff arrives. Well, suffer or leave. I choose leave. BYE.

Oh, my bosses didn't reprimand me. In fact, they were quite understanding. They are nice guys. As always, I worried for absolutely no reason.

what a week

It's 7:24. I'm supposed to be at work in 36 minutes. I could make it if I got dressed and left in 6 minutes, but it's not going to happen. As a rule, I don't post about work, so I won't go into detail; however, this week has COMPLETELY SUCKED. The climax of the bad week left my crying at my computer monitors desperately trying to understand why my excel models weren't working. That was yesterday afternoon. Today can only be better, but I am afraid it's only going to be marginally better.

The only problem is that I can't think of anything to write. I would seriously write about my feet if I could thing of something remotely clever to write. My feet have black stockings on right now. My feet smell bad after a day in shoes. My feet have toes. Like I said... nothing.

FINE. I'll go to work. I've been obsessing that I'm going to be scolded by the managers about the failure of my models to function. We shall see, eh.

A Knitting Post

Looky. I finished the first chart of the Lotus Blossom Shawl, which I am in love with. America may be addicted to oil, but this girl is addicted to knitting. America may be threatened by human-animal hybrids, but I am threatened by deQuervain's Tendonitis. I am in full-time splint mode. Wearing it as much as I can tolerate in order to compensate for knitting. Oh, my knitting ventured outdoors for the first time. Unfortunately, I've spent at least one hour setting my camera to take good pictures inside, to the detriment of outdoor ones.

Ok, so now we enter the question and answer section of this post.

1) Kristen, why are their so many typos in your post? Well, my normally flawless spelling and grammar may be suffering due to the limitations of one of my opposable thumbs.

2) Kristen, your spelling and punctuation normally suck. Sure whatever.

3) Well, how bad do your thumbs hurt? N0t so bad. Just sore. Just like they may hurt more in the future if I don't take care of them.

4) How much are you knitting? Not much.

5) How much is not much? Well, pre-thumb disease, I would spend at least 6 hours a day during the weekend knitting. This weekend, I am spending maybe 1 hour a day. During the week, I would spend at least 2 hours each day knitting. This week, I spend 30 minutes a day for three days.

6) Does it still make you happy? Are you asking if knitting still makes me happy? Yes. I just don't want it to hurt. Cause it didn't make me happy when it did.

7) So what now? Well, now I'm going to get a coffee, listen to the new album I am obsessed with and then go walk in the park.

8) Ah, the park. So you can check out all the hot men without shirts and cute butts while they work out? Ummmmmm

This marks the end of the question and answer section of the post.

Master of the Impulse Buy

iTunes has taken away my ability to control myself in the face of indie music. How is it that a cd on the shelf for $11 takes some consideration prior to purchase, but some megabytes on iTunes for the same amount don't?

What are you doing this summer? Anu and I are doing this: bonnaroo.com/2006. Clap YOUR hands say, yeah!

What are you knitting this weekend? I'll be working on this.

The shawl is offended that it was forced to pose near a sponge. It's been told to get over itself.

Late for work, gotta go.

Oh, this is a messy kitchen. Blame poor focus on excessive gin intake.

Oh, here's the result of Martha's ass whipping. Looks pretty, doesn't it!

Well, some of them were a bit uglier. I should have re-whipped the cream for the milk chocolate mousse so that it wouldn't be so runny. But looks, really don't matter. It tasted so freakin good. And the foil worked perfectly well. Verdict: I would make this again. But: I would do more ahead of time.