Having one of those “I hate everything” weeks. Halfway done and stalled out hopelessly with repeat #6 of Diamond Fantasy. I think before I start my Pi shawl, I’m gonna have to teach myself to knit backwards. Because the endless. purl. rows. are kicking my arse. I don’t really hate purling. I don’t mind it terribly. It’s just, there’s so MUCH of it. Today my goal is to get my butt in gear and finish this scarf. I’d like to move on and cannot do so until it is done. We’re going to a friend’s place for a family potlucky sort of thing so maybe I’ll curl up in a corner and work on it there. Don’t really feel up to much else. The bronchitis is back with a spectacular vengeance today – thank you Mr. DJ, thank you for using your fancy smoke machine with such enthusiasm, THANK YOU asshats who smoke in clubs despite the prominently posted NO SMOKING warnings! I think we will be embarking upon round #2 of antibiotics this week. Perhaps the lack of oxygen and the copious amounts of TMIgreencrapTMI are partially to blame for my overwhelming sense of ennui and stabbiness.
Realized yesterday while waiting at Supercuts that I hate the basketweave sock. Now, I do not just dislike the basketweave sock. I hate it. I hate it with a white hot burning passion. The blazing heat of a thousand suns does not even start to compare to how much I abhor the basketweave sock. This was a marked switch, as previously I adored the basketweave sock. I do not know what it did to offend, perhaps I am just a fickle mistress and somewhat high maintenance. No matter. It is clear that I must frog the basketweave sock and relegate the Quatro to yarn gulag until something better comes along. I really have no excuse for not picking up the Venice Beach Ice Cream sock and working on that, except, I’m perilously close to the heel and that would mean turning the heel. I’ve turned lots of heels, really. I feel like that character in the Terry Pratchett book who has a 12′ sock because she’s terrified to turn the heel! Nothing I own is making me feel tingly and sparkly about my knitting today.
I have not taken the Starbucks Challenge yet, but I will. I meant to last week when I was out at the SM Farmers Mkt but it was so darn hot, the idea of a french pressed HOT cup of joe just made me wilt and I ended up with an iced tea instead. I’m going earlier in the morning this week so shall beg them for my Fair Trade. Don’t know about this Starbucks Challenge? Check it out. Fresh activist fun for corporate zombies, courtesy of my friend the Green LA Girl and the folks at City Hippy.
Realized this weekend that the thought of going to synagogue is very daunting. I haven’t been in one since I was 11 and Dad remarried. She was a perfectly nice lady, but being Not Jewish, obviously she wasn’t into Temple and we stopped going and I’m not sure why, but we did. I don’t know where to sit or say, where to go or what to do. Do Jews even have a welcome wagon for the clueless who show up on Saturday mornings?
I swear to god if I manage to get through the day without burying a spork in the fleshy part of someone’s arm, it will be a bloody miracle.