Schmaniversary
This weekend marks Justin and my fifth anniversary.
Five. Years.
That's five years of arguing, five years of making up, five years of not killing each other.
For two of those years, we slept in single beds. For one of those years, I was his boss. For one of those years, we were co-workers. For one of those summers, I lived in the Crowley's basement and he lived in the NYU dorms. For one of those summers, I moved to Kansas and he stayed in Columbia.
We've been through a lot. Right now, we're looking for apartments together. I didn't think this day would ever come.
Everyone says it, but it's true: I loved him from the first moment I saw him. But I thought he was waaaaaay too cool for me. And he had a girlfriend. And awesome orange shoes. And spikey hair. He ditched the girl, got new shoes but he always, always has the hair. (Except when he wakes up. And after a shower. But I'm the only one who gets to see that.)
A lot of people said that we shouldn't have gotten together, they didn't like it, we wouldn't last, blah blah blah. It hurt a lot. We're not friends with those people anymore. I'm okay with that. He's everything in the world to me. He's the only person I want to wake up next to and the only person I want to come home to. He's the only person I want to fight with and definitely the only person I want to make up with. I tell him
everything. (But have you met me? I tell everyone everything.)
I'm not posting this on our actual anniversary because that would make me all sappy and mushy and girly. And my windows are open and it's raining and the sound is so peaceful and I haven't been physically angry for more than a week and finally, things are good.
(Bonus contest, just for getting through this post: What was I crocheting, in the dead heat of August in Missouri, when Justin first saw me? It was not seasonally appropriate. Extra points if you know the brand of yarn and/or colorway.)
Look! Finished socks!
Specs: Lucy Neatby's Mermaid Socks from
Cool Socks, Warm Feet in Knit Picks Sock Garden. I hope to get these in the mail to my mom on Tuesday.
And proof that there is a higher being somewhere, looking over all the knitters. Immediately after this picture was taken, the ball flew off the winder
and he continued winding. We had a little talk about why that happened and why he shouldn't just keep winding with the ball on the floor (he wanted to make a "turbo ball," whatever that means). I'll rent him out for $5 an hour.
Just like the Buels on vacation
When my parents go on vacation (or when they used to go on vacation - I'm not sure they do this anymore), my mom would keep a little notebook and there would be a quote of the day from every day of the trip so they would remember it later. Here's my own version, a week in review of what was going through my head.
Monday: It's Monday. I'm not at work. Now what?
Tuesday: I'm going to die bored and alone.
Wednesday: Good first day! We're going to die penniless and alone.
Thursday: When I die, I want the last thing I eat to be Kim's cookie bars.
Friday: I love my job. Is that legal? And where are the cookie bars?
Sweet baby Jesus on the cross, as I type this, Justin is taking out the swift and is GOING TO WIND YARN. All by himself. I didn't ask for this. We've barely spoken since we woke up a half hour ago. And he just confirmed he's not drunk.
I love this man.
Yes, I can hear you David Bowie. SHUT. UP.
I am historically not good at change. If you meet me for five minutes, you know that. Not little changes, like procedural things or where to store the dishes, but big changes. People, I tried to stay in middle school. You know it's bad when the girl with the poofy bangs and stirrup pants WANTS to stay in 8th grade.
But as I get older, I get better. And the job is good, I like it a lot (I even confirmed last night that I would be coming back today), but it'll take some getting used to. I'm sharing a desk right now, which is a little awkward, and I feel bad for the person leaving because it's still her desk and I'm just some interloper looking for a place to sit. But that will be done tomorrow.
But other changes are on the horizon. A lot of things are happening at once. I felt my first sense of adult panic last night when Justin started talking about money and plates and food and I was like, wait, WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?
And he was talking about wedding reception catering. Some friends had been emailing yesterday about the average cost per person of a wedding reception, and it freaked him out. We're not getting married anytime soon. We won't even have a sit-down dinner. But he was so scared and so worried and that made ME worried, even though I knew there was nothing to worry about. So I spent most of the evening in a little ball on the couch, lonely with an upset stomach. Is that what adults do?
So since I tell people I have a knitting blog, it's probably a good idea to sometimes, you know, talk about knitting. This is the first mermaid sock for my mom, from Lucy Neatby's
Cool Socks, Warm Feet. I adore this book. And I adore this sock. It's made from Knit Picks' Sock Garden, which, interestingly enough, stripes every row. And I love the short row heel.
This is Eleanor's Stole, from
Scarf Style out of Kureyon #154. I'm about halfway done, I think. This thing is going to be huge. But I'm completely enamored with it. And it's my first entrelac.
When I use Kureyon, I don't really worry about where one ball ends and the other begins. I just grab the next skein and go. If you look to the right, four full rows down, you see a pink and green square (next to two pinks). That's where someone in the factory tied the skein together. For some reason, I like to maintain stuff like that.
Today's my first day of my new job. The first day of the rest of my life. The changes will be big. I'm going from a 250-person company to 27. No concierge (can you believe they had a concierge? In Kansas City? Isn't that WEIRD?), no fancy cappucino machine, no video screens with the agency's work. (I think. I don't know. I've never been there. But I will be. Today.)
I'm not nervous. Should I be nervous? I think I'm not because I feel like I belong there, like this is a perfectly natural step. And Jennifer will be there, and it's hard to be nervous when you know what she looks like with a mobius basket on her head.
My bunny friend is back. My computer faces out the window, towards some more apartments just a couple hundred feet away. My complex is very family-oriented - the apartments look like little houses. Anyway, there's a lot o nice greenery and flowers and trees and one of the reasons I love my apartment is because I love the view from my windows. So my bunny friend, who I named Bobby, is back. He's enormous. Bobby hops down the sidewalk (he always takes the sidewalk - he's very polite) and then reaches up with his long, long legs and grabs one delicate purple flower at a time and pretty much inhales it. But he's having trouble today, because he's eaten all the flowers on the perimeter and he looks a little to scared to actually get into the bush. I love the way rabbits hop.
This post brought to you by Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill Citrus Flavored Wine
I should be passed out this very second, thanks to my day full of homemaking and two glasses of Boone's Farm with a homemade dinner. I will try to remain in a prone position until I finish this, or until I pass out.
Not working agrees with me very much. It's a delightful thing, really. I awoke at 8:30, played The Sims until 10, and then took a 17-mile bike ride. I'm not quite sure how that happened, but I ended up at 140th and Mur-Len, I think (I live at 119th Street, for those of you not familiar with the OPK). I didn't get tired until mile 13. I was really glad to get home. After lunch, I went to my apartment complex's pool, where I was the only person without a tattoo. But I had a visor on, so you know, I wasn't that cool to begin with. I went to Best Buy to buy a can of air (the compressed kind) with which to clean my sewing machine, then to Joann's, where I spent money but I'm not sure what I bought. I remember it being pretty. A trip to Hy-Vee (where there's a helpful smile in every aisle) and I was back home to prepare dinner. Stuck it in the fridge, and then I watched a lot of MTV until Justin got here and we ate dinner and I drank $2 wine and here we are.
Can you tell I haven't really talked to anyone ALL DAY?
About the new job: I'm very excited. At the beginning of last week, I was ready to call in dead and contemplated giving my notice on Friday, even though I didn't have another job. Planets and knitters imbibing tequila aligned, I had an interview Friday morning, accepted the job at noon and quit by 12:30. It was a glorious thing. I'd had a particularly horrendous experience with the head of the company an hour earlier, and if I wasn't ready to go before then, he pretty much pushed me to the limit. So thanks for that.
So I'm looking forward to doing good work, regaining my self-confidence and not being treated like I just shit all over the floor and somebody better clean it up. But my new boss?
She's crazy.
Yesterday was a craft day. I started with making a ribbon watch with supplies from J Caroline Creative (www.jcarolinecreative.com - a favorite). The ribbons were $0.89 per yard (I bought two ribbons and used 11 inches of each), the D rings were $0.16 each, and the watch head was $6.00 for a grand total of $8.10. I forgot to take a picture of the other side of the strap, but please believe me when I say it's pink, white and green vertical stripes.
Then I tackled the Amy Butler Swing Bag. I bought this fabric at Urban Arts and Crafts back when it was snowing (only because it snows every time I go there). There were pattern pieces. Lengthy, involved instructions. I started at 4:00 and ended at 1 a.m. (with a break for dinner and tooling about the Plaza). I think I love it.
I especially love that it's reversible. I'm not sure which side I like better. Word to the wise: the directions are wrong when it comes to placement of the straps, which is why I was taking it apart at midnight. And after all that, I think I want to make another.
I put the sewing machine away, but I'm sure it'll come out tomorrow. I need to send out my Backtack supplies and start on the supplies sent to me. (Thank you, Backtack pal! I am slow! I received them ages ago! And they're great!) There's also a lot of knitting to be finished. Pretty much two socks and a crocheted baby sweater.
Where will I get all of this time? Well, friends, I don't start my new job until Wednesday. (Yes, I have a new job. I know I kind of dropped a bomb in the last post and didn't really explain everything. But I have a new job, I'm very excited about it and I'm ready to be happy again. I'll explain more in a later post.)
What else will I do with all this leisure time? Enter a Barnes & Noble purchase from last night. The latest issues of
ReadyMade and
Bust, Jill Scott's book of poetry and an Elizabeth Zimmerman classic. I intend to spend a few hours a day by the pool reading, reading, reading.
Real! Live! Conversations!
8:30 p.m. Wednesday night, over the phoneMe: You're so bossy.
Mom: Just on Fridays.
Me: No, you're bossy all the time. You're the bossiest person I know.
Mom: I am not!
Me: Get Dad on the phone. He knows.
Mom: No, I'm not putting him on the phone so you can make fun of me.
Me: Get him.
Mom: He's eating leftovers from dinner. Oh wait, ask him what he had for dinner.
(scuffling)
Dad: What's up? (crunching)
Me: What are you eating?
Dad: Snacky stuff.
Me: No, what did you have for dinner?
Dad: (I can just see his little face lighting up) OH! I had TALAPIA. I love TALAPIA.
Me: I thought you didn't like fish.
Dad: I do now.
Me: Who's the bossiest person you know?
Dad: Your mother.
**
How can you top that?
Oh, I know.
I quit my job today.
The shelves that Kristin built
In the beginning, there was the bookshelf. The bookshelf belonged to my dad in college and has had many incarnations in family homes. It landed and Kansas and did a pretty good job of holding
some of my stash.
But I wanted, nay,
needed more. Because frankly, my bedroom had turned into a yarn breeding ground. Enter Target.
Ta da! On sale this week for $40, the nine cube shelving unit is roughly 3'x3' and there are a myriad of ways to use it. I opted for the cloth drawers and decided to nix the doors.
So now I'm able to keep my books with some of the yarn (we'll get into the rest of it later this week, maybe - I don't want to give my parents heart attacks). The books had outgrown their place on my gorgeous father-built bookshelf/entertainment center. Now there's plenty of room for them, as well as their brothers and sisters who have disappeared somewhere in my apartment.
Drawer #1: Bartlett yarn for Rogue.
Drawer #2: Peace Fleece for Accordian. Mmm, Peace Fleece. (And the purple above it? Peace Fleece DK, along with the Koigu for Charlotte 2.0.)
And drawer #3: Enough Elann Peruvian Highland Wool for two sweaters (the purple is a shawl collar sweater currently in progress; the green and brown are for a Ribby Cardi).
And, finally, more books.
I'm proud to say that I did all the construction myself. Well, the first time around. All the pieces were put together and I realized that the finished sides weren't all facing the same direction. WAY TO GO, ME. So Justin held the screws as I took it apart and helped me rearrange the pieces. It only took a little more than an hour.
And my dad? I love him. Not only did he give me my very own screw gun for HIS birthday (his dream come true), but he taught me at an early age how to swing a hammer, use a jigsaw and wield a screw gun. As I was building last night, I kept saying to Justin, "I wish my dad could see me right now." I love you, Dad.
Phoning it in
For lack of anything better to post, what's currently on my Dell Jukebox playlist:
1. La La - Ashlee Simpson (have you heard the lyrics? All about sex on the floor. Who knew?)
2. Change Clothes - Jay-Z
3. Jet Lag - Joss Stone
4. Not an Addict - K's Choice
5. Such Great Heights - The Postal Service (one must always have The Postal Service on one's playlist)
6. Live to Tell - Madonna (I just watched
Truth or Dare)
7. In Your Room - The Bangles
8. Hazy Shade of Winter - The Bangles (when I found out this was a cover, I was crushed)
9. Stray Cat Strut - The Stray Cats
10. Bizarre Love Triangle - New Order
Thanks for all of the nice thoughts and warm wishes about my baby Roo. I'm doing better. I haven't cried since Monday and I got his cage all packed up. There's a FARC spider plant in his corner.
I really miss the little dude.
Roology
Please read
Justin's tribute to Roo. You have to know that that little mouse loved Justin more than anything in the world. Besides soy balls.
i love you so much it make me fat and climb walls
Roo died. I wish I could think of something more eloquent, but it's 2 a.m. and I just got off the train and we buried him in the field across the street. I don't really know what to think.
Good night, little mouse. I love you.
You look like people who need pictures. Unfortunately, it's like chickens with no heads around here. Hopefully I'll get some tonight.
I think I'm getting sick. I'm going to Iowa tomorrow for Crazy Lady Who Pushed Me Out of Her Private Parts Day. She requested I bring her some yarn, and friends, I don't know how I'm going to get anything else in that suitcase (she didn't specify exactly
how much yarn, so I winged it. Bad idea.). I got the yarn for the entrelac stole from
Scarf Style yesterday (WoolNeedleWorks, you are GREAT. I adore you.) and I can't wait to cast on, but I need to because some other things need to be finished first.
Here's a cliffhanger for you: will I make it to Knit Night? It's Chewdy's birthday and I've got a gift and guacamole to enjoy, but there is TOO MUCH TO DO before I leave. Tell me, dear readers, what should I do?
This is why the birds are homeless
I needle-felted and I'm sorry.
Okay, let's ignore the fact that no self-respecting bird would live in these houses. Let's also ignore the fact that I chopped the hell out of the brown roof because it didn't felt right (don't look at the back). Let's also ignore the fact that the brown roof is what made me itch.
What the hell is with the turquoise on the purple? Was I on crack? Looks like it. Someone forgot to tell me that needle-felting involves artistic vision and, you know, skill (which would also explain the faint stripe of green above the bottom turquoise line). The orange one didn't turn out so bad.
This is embarrassing and hysterical all at once. Look at me! Embarrassed! Laughing!
This is because I said I hated felting, isn't it?
