well if i go down dying you know she's bound to put a blanket on my bed

So The General said, "Please mail this CD. I am not giving you supplies. I don't know where to get supplies. Please don't ask me any questions about supplies or anything else. I just want it done" and he handed me a CD-R that was buck naked, no envelope, jewel case, padded envelope, padded cell, nothing, so I scrounged and scavenged and scurried about and stole a jewel case from a co-worker and an envelope from the same coworker and found some old plastic CVS shopping bags and wrapped it up but it still wasn't cushioned enough, what to use, what to use? No bubble wrap in sight. Hey, some leftover yarn! I'll wrap it around the case!

And so, it was adequately cushioned.

Do we need to discuss why I had yarn at work?

i won't resign before the struggle ends so i'll construct this sound defense

To address yesterday's comments:

Anonymous said...

What's really funny about this post is what a NON-bitch Karida is....

Uh. Yeah. Maybe that's your experience with Karida, Anonymous, but...maybe we're talking about a different Karida here? Just sayin'.

Karida said...

you know you love me!

Think you've got that reversed, there.

Imbrium said...

What is it with you and the cocksucking intarsia? It's like a sickness, I swear....

Umm, I like to suck cocks? (Can't wait to see the stats on that one, as if I didn't already own the market on any and all combinations of "casting couch fuck cocksucking sex pictures" already.) That aside, I have two words for you.

Polka dots. (And argyle.)

'Nuff sed.

jenifleur said...

Rebecca, are you listening to Im? THIS IS A COCKSUCKING INTARSIA INTERVENTION, REBECCA. Step away from the colored yarn.

Your friends care about you and don't want to see you end up in rehab with nothing to knit but solid colors and self striping yarns. If you are going to color knit, shouldn't you be doing some fair isle? After all, intarsia

SUCKS COCKS

I thought we were on track when you admitted it back in january. You took the first step, now be strong.

The first step is admitting that I have a problem. I freely admit to having a problem. It doesn't mean I can help my addition to polka dots. (And argyle.) If I were to stop everything to which I'm addicted, I'd stop drinking, biting my nails, eating good but bad for you foods, watching movies, listening to music too loud, watching bad tv, and knitting.

I'm not ready to give up drinking yet.

say i do and kiss me quick 'cuz baby's on its way

The knitting for the soon-to-be-non-parasite to which my friend is currently playing host body has stalled. Now that the TIE fighter challenge is done, I'm rather bored with the idea of knitting a black jumper. I'll pick it up, again.

Eventually.

I have been making progress on Orangina, but it's not like you haven't seen it before. I picked up the Sugarplum Sweater again but it looks like...Blue Sky Sportweight Alpaca knit in the round. Yay.

I knit a scarf for the Red Scarf Project in about an hour yesterday, with size 35 needles and one ball of Rowan Big Wool. After I got over the massive migraine that made me, yes me, the queen workaholic of them all, me, leave work after working for ONE HOUR yesterday.

And then that bitch Karida talked me into another CSI: The Cocksucking Intarsia project. So I immediately cast on. I know. I'm breaking my New Year's Resolution. Again.

it was at that time i swear i lost my mind i started making plans to kill my own kind

Dear Fellow Delta Airlines Passengers:

I, too, am highly frustrated by the current weather conditions in the Atlanta area. I, too, want very badly to travel successfully to Washington-Reagan National Airport as soon as possible. I, too, am a bit cranky over the fact that the 8:30 PM flight has been delayed until 11:00 PM and this means I won't be home until 1:00 AM and you know? That really fucking sucks. What's perhaps worse for me is that fact that I completed the neverending legwarmers, which are, as you read this (unless you're reading this long after the date I posted it, in which case, that's your problem, not mine), soaked and blocking on the floor of my closet amongst the construction and cables and dead roaches that abound in there, and I am running out of yarn on this ball of Rowan 4-Ply Cotton for my Orangina, so really, I have nothing to knit. Nothing. Do you even have a clue what that means?

However, when several of the flights to National, Dulles and Baltimore have been cancelled, and the fine folks at Delta are working industriously to get you on a flight as soon as possible, why do you feel the need to yell and scream at them and everyone else who comes near your path? Do you honestly believe that your grandiose posturing will get you on a flight before someone else? Do you believe that because you are somehow more important than I am, that I ought to willingly give up my seat?

I'm here to tell you, I won't. Please back the fuck off. I have a confirmed seat on the now 11 PM flight. I will be on that flight, or someone will pay dearly for the opportunity to have my seat and will give me a hotel room for the evening. And than I'll be ahead of you, because I'll have gotten free food, a free room, a good night's sleep, and early morning flight, and $400 in travel vouchers. And you'll get to DC at asscrack early and will still be miserable and will inflict said misery upon all those around you.

Now, if it's the same to you, I'm off to the bookstore, to get some reading material for the next four hours.

dancing screaming itching squealing fevered feeling hot hot hot

Last weekend, The Man Who Lives in the House and I decided to drive to MicroCenter in Marietta.

We got horribly, horribly lost. Nobody could seem to tell us an easy way to get the Powers Ferry from Cobb Parkway and Windy Hill (answer: turn left on Windy Hill and drive ONE FUCKING BLOCK). But we did end up at one of my favorite Atlanta-area landmarks, the Big Chicken.I just have to say, it's really fucking weird and creepy.

some day somebody's gonna ask you a question that you should say yes to

I've compiled a partial list of questions I'm asked while traveling, along with my usual responses. This is also known as The Post Wherein All Y'all Discover What a Massive Bitch Rebecca Is.

Q: Are you going to the game?
A: No. (Since there's no mention of which game I might be going to, and there are any number of games going on at any given time, I can honestly answer no, even though it might be nice if they specified something like, "Georgia game" or "Falcons game" or "Redskins game" or something that made me know which game I am being asked about.)

Q: Can you knit me something?
A: No.

Q: Would you be willing to trade seats with my girlfriend so instead of your sitting in an aisle seat towards the front of the aircraft, you're sitting in the last row in a middle seat between a pair of squalling infants and a homeless unshowered man who has the beginnings of SARS?
A: No.

Q: (from flight attendant) Would you be willing to trade seats so this young man can sit with his girlfriend?
A: No. And don't even think of putting the SARS guy or squalling infants next to me, either.

Q: They let you on the plane with those knitting needles?
A: No, it's a figment of your imagination.

Q: But don't you think knitting on a plan is dangerous?
A: It is when you keep inciting the knitter to riot.

Q: I'm not comfortable with your knitting next to me. Would you move or put those needles away?
A: No.

Q: (from flight attendant) Excuse me, could you move to the back of the plane, since the person sitting next to you is not comfortable with your knitting near him?
A: No. But feel free to move him to the back of the plane. As long as SARS guy and the squalling infants don't come up here.

Q: Are you somebody's grandmother, since you're doing that knitting thing?
A: Yes, isn't it obvious? I mean, I know I appear to be younger than my 32 years, so I can totally see where you'd get that impression.

too late to run for cover she's much too close for comfort now

I so need a rock glass cozy like the one Micah made. I believe everyone does.

please allow me to introduce myself i'm a man of wealth and taste

So there I was on the bus this morning, knitting on the neverendingwhenthefuckaretheygonnabedone legwarmers, listening to my iPod playlist of 11 of the 20 songs I always listen to, FSM forbid I, I dunno, branch out in musical tastes even just a little bit, and this chick comes on the bus and my immediate reaction was, "Hey, she looks like a cool person, I bet we'd be good friends." Am I the only one this happens to? And I sat through the rest of the bus ride (10 minutes or so) and she sat right across the aisle from me, not reading, not talking, not iPodding, and not knitting, and I never said a word to her. I figure if I had she'd blow me off and tell me how much she hates me and what a scrapper I was (yeah, there was the insult from Vitriola's 8th grade birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese. Scrapper. From some bitch I had never met. I hate her. What the fuck was her name? She was skinny and had blond hair and wore a blue sweater. I remember the tone of her voice when she said it. It hurt me, deeply. I know, I know, I shouldn't let it affect me, but I do. She put me in my place and made me feel low. Wonder if she's thrice divorced from Navy men with a passle of kids and a slew o' "uncles" nowadays. Please say she is, because I couldn't deal with it if she were somebody Good and Important like Head of UNICEF or something, it would make me feel even lower, even today, 20 years later and OH MY FUCKING FSM has it really been 20 years since that birthday party?) and so I left her to herself, feeling the loss of a friend I had never met.

at the core i've forgotten in the middle of my thoughts

I'm knitting Anouk for a friend who is about to have a baby girl, but I modified it a tad, as I mentioned I wanted to do in a previous post.Do they look like TIE fighters?

Does anyone else think it's wrong that there's a Wookieepedia?

E2A:
A post title. I can't believe I forgot one. Credit for the pattern idea and help with the redesign to Karida.

you'll be making out with a witch in a coffee truck

Umm. Would've drunk blogged last night but no interwebs at the new crib, alas. We did something called power hour last night on the front porch and I had never heard of it and I thought it was a gospel church kinda thing but no. Since it seems to be big at Syracuse, I assume Vitriola has heard of it. And, like, my brother. But anyway, I find that really bad beer goes down far more easily if you do it in shots.

Am knitting legwarmers. They are neverending.

peanut butter jelly peanut butter jelly peanut butter jelly with a baseball bat

MAKE IT STOP!!!!!!!

no time for dancing or lovey dovey i ain't got time for that now

Don't get me wrong, I knit in public early and often. However.

I find it really obnoxious when people persist on asking me what I'm doing, what I'm making, how do I knit on so many pointy needles, what's that circular needle, etc., when I'm clearly WEARING MY FUCKING IPOD. I like to pretend I have no idea that they're talking to me and, because I keep my iPod on near blaring, I am not pretending that I can't hear them. I really can't hear them. And they insist on talking to me anyway. So when they get in my face and I turn off the iPod and answer their questions and then clearly TURN IT BACK ON and they keeping fucking TALKING to me, what am I supposed to do?

Sometimes, I just don't feel like talking about knitting. I just want to be in my own little zone, listening to The Clash and knitting away. Can't people figure out to leave me alone when I so clearly have my iPod on and it's so loud they can hear that the music is playing across the room?

i'm just trying to do my jigsaw puzzle before it rains anymore

Is it me, or is today's New York Sun crossword puzzle stupidly easy, particularly for a Tuesday puzzle?

I've been reading Matt Gaffney's Gridlock: Crossword Puzzles and the Mad Geniuses Who Create Them after I accidentally walked into a reading he was having at Olsson's last week. Fascinating, and it makes me a little ashamed to admit that I play sudoku. Anyway, Gaffney says that the New York Sun crossword rivals the New York Times crossword so I thought I'd take a crack at it.

Feh. It must just be today's. Diary of a Crossword Fiend says that Thursday's was a killer. Guess I'll peruse the archives.

another suburban family morning grandmother screaming at the war

Last night, instead of Buffy night, Karida and I decided to go out to dinner and eat mass quantities of tofu goodness. While sauntering about Gallery Place, we saw some interesting knitwear at Benetton, the store that was sooo cool to wear clothes from when I was 12 years old. This, in particular, caught our eye:A simple cable knit, albeit in fuzzy crappy polyester mohair ick. It should be done in Crack Silk Haze or Crack Classic. Karida proceeded to deconstruct it while the anxious, gorgeous, Italian or just pretending to be fashion-model-wannabe sales clerks anxiously looked on.I took more pictures to share but my phone thinks I sent them and Flickr thinks I didn't. Oh well. Later, in Urban Outfitters, we were amused by this display."Yarn"? Other than being made out of (crappy polyester) yarn, what does that have to do with yarn? And it's not like they were the only yarn-made objects in the store.