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Two is the number of hours of sleep I’ve had. Twelve is the number of hours straight I worked on my model yesterday. Am I done? No. I’m not sure if I’m even close to done. Every time I think I’m almost there, something happens and there seem to be endless hours of work ahead. For some reason, this project has become my masterpiece. I feel like it’s going to be the last project I ever work on and if it isn’t perfect, life won’t go on.
I watched Alpha Dog (disturbing) and Valentines Day (not sure how I feel about this movie) last night. Good news, I now know I can totally zone out while knitting and it’s like the knitting just gets longer and time just passes. It’s pretty awesome.
So, originally, my model was going to be of a knitting shop called Knit in Public (an actual brick and mortar) and the outside was going to be a knitted scarf I was going to make out of clay. In my mind this looked awesome. I posted an awesome tweet while brainstorming this idea btw.
I spent 5 hours making my dream a reality. Twice:
Much to my chagrin, after spending the majority of my Sunday on this, it looks like a Native American hill dwelling I visited as a child with my grandparents.
I anxiously waited for my masterpiece to air dry and when I checked on it hours later, it had all cracked and crumbled. I tried to glue it back together with no luck. I have no pictures of this because I almost threw it across the room and my camera wasn’t what I was thinking about.
Being the perfectionist I tend to be, I threw the clay away and started over. With real yarn and knitting needles. Took about 5 hours to knit the scarf:
Oh yes, that’s a mosaic walkway.
Day 1: My horrible packaging. 6 months ago I would’ve thought this was great, this school is breaking me.
Day 3: What has become my whole life.
Hi there! Happy Monday (which is kind of an oxymoron, no?)
I woke up this morning and immediately started throwing up. Let me tell you, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat a brussels sprout, cheese or a veggie hotdog again (my diet tries to be healthy). Since this is the fourth time I’ve been sick since Thanksgiving and the 2nd time this month, I decided a visit to the doctor was a good idea.
Ugh. I hate going to doctor. They confronted me about an outstanding charge I never received a letter about as soon as I walked in. Way to kick my while I’m down,
assholes. I pointed out they had run the wrong insurance. Ha! She was so superior and then I shut. Her. Down. (In a nice way, of course).
After the doctor asked me if I’m sure I’m not pregnant (I freakin’ hate that!! Geez, can’t a girl just feel nauseous without talking about sex?) she informed me I have had a long running sinus infection and it has lowered my immune system’s defenses. And then she prescribed me a ton of medication. And told me to go home, put my pjs on and wait until Wednesday to wreak havoc on my classmates’ immune systems. Done!
The problem is, I’m moving. Malibu Ken just got divorced and has been replaced by his ex-wife, Puppy Party Skipper. Who is a nightmare (for me). And she only gave me three weeks notice to be out of the house I’ve loved and lived in for 4 years. I’m a little stressed. Now, I’m too sick to pack. Ugh!
I went to the pharmacy and ended up spending $100 dollars on medications that I didn’t budget for when I was getting my loan. $100?!! Why do I even have insurance? The most expensive plan? It’s supposed to make this stuff better.
So, I’m at home chilling and working on homework. I plan to nap soon.
What an exciting Monday!
P.S.–I think Chico’s broken
The other day I was having a conversation with someone. It went a little something like this:
me: How are things, blah, blah, blah, did you get all of your school supplies yet?
him: Oh yeah, I got most of them for free. Yeah, go me.
me: (raising an eyebrow) Oh, really…that’s pretty awesome. (secretly jealous he has friends who went to the same school years earlier and still have all of their supplies)
him: Yeah, I stole them.
me: (shocked stare)…Did you say you stole them?
him: (chuckle) Yeah.
me: As in shoplifted?!
him: Yeah. I mean, I need that stuff. I don’t have money. So I went and took it.
me: …the fuck, are you kidding me?
him: No way. I took it and now it’s mine.
me: This might not work out.
I didn’t think real people shoplifted after the age of 16. I never did it when I was 16, but I knew a lot of people who did. And homeless people. I hear homeless people shoplift. But I don’t know any of them. And I certainly never met any 20 somethings who seem completely (that’s a lie) normal who do it. Geez…
Oh, what is that, you ask?
Nothing. Just my open oven.
Why is your oven open?
My heat isn’t working…Yeah, it’s not working and it’s November. It’s cold enough outside where it’s colder in the house than it is outside during the day. And, you know, I work at home. It’s pretty miserable. Oh, yeah. When I called Malibu Ken and told him about it, he said he knew. That’s right. He has known it was broken. He just didn’t do anything about it.
Your oven…what does this have to do with the oven?
Oh, sorry. The HVAC guy can’t come until Thursday and, did I mention it’s cold outside? Anyway, according to him, opening the oven is the “most efficient,” “fastest,” space heater you can use. But don’t sleep with it on. And don’t even think about cooking anything.
Well, what’s that?
Oh, geez. That’s my house’s old fridge. On my porch.
…I hate to ask. Malibu Ken?
How did you know? The fridge broke about a month or so ago. I called. Malibu (we’re on a first name basis now) came, while I wasn’t home mind you, and did some kind of duct tape fix. Needless to say, it broke approximately two days later. But the freezer broke, as well. Ruined all of our food. That’s monies I don’t have, yo. I texted (his preferred method of contact) Malibu several times with no responses, so a friend of mine helped me out and found a new to me fridge and helped me install it. Now the old one is sitting on the porch waiting for Malibu to take it away. I have my doubts it will go anywhere.
Goodness! So, this old fridge is just sitting on your porch, your most favorite place in the whole world, making it junky and gross?
That’s right. I called to let him know I replaced it and he wrote back and thanked me. Over text. And that he wouldn’t be able to come that day. We’ll see how long it takes. Best. Landlord. Ever.
Recently, I was hanging out with my aunt, who is a voice teacher. She was on the phone with a student’s mother and I was flipping channels. She hung up the phone and looked at me. “Guess who’s coming?” she said.
I raised an eyebrow.
“Well,” she started. Everyone in my family is a story teller. It’s not just me. “That was so and so’s mom. She asked if she can bring a friend to our lesson to hear her. I said, ‘Sure! Anyone I know?’ Then she said, Otis Redding!!”
I, of course being a big fan (or so I thought), totally freaked. “Otis Redding?!! Here?! Are you kidding me?” I immediately started trying to rearrange my schedule. We were psyched!
After a few minutes of calling people (I totally posted it on Twitter and Facebook) we ran downstairs to tell her husband. He looked at both of us in the eye. “Otis Redding died in the ’60s.” OMG. I feel like an idiot.
I didn’t open my reader at all in the past 4 or 5 days…I guess since before September ended. Tons of I love October posts. And let me tell you, I have to jump in because, seriously, I love October. Probably more than you. And my half birthday is in October, so, yeah.
Every year, there is a huge build up to Halloween and then the day is never as awesome as I think it’s going to be. You know why, because I’m an adult now. And if I want to go trick-or-treating and actually get candy, I have to borrow a kid. People really deny you at the door. It’s humiliating. I even got denied one year when I had a kid with me.
I don’t have any invitations to parties to share (facebook events has ruined it for everyone) and no costumes to post. But. I do have a photo editor. So here goes:
Click the little pics for bigger photos is you can’t see the full ghastliness.
Hope you’re having a great Wednesday! Happy Halloween!
I discovered this little treasure in the fridge at work. Ok. I’m confused. How can you have 120% Vitamin C? Can’t you only have 100% of something. Like, when people are saying they are really giving 110%, we all know that that person is a little brown nosing asshole because mathematically, that’s not possible. And, do I want to even drink 120% of Vitamin C? Is there 120% of the apple juice with the Vitamin C and no apples? If that’s the case, I’m worried as to why we are letting little kids drink this.
When I poured myself a glass a little, fuzzy bit of something (I’m assuming Vitamin C) floated to the top to say “hai!” And it doesn’t even expire until November. Gross. That’s what this much of anything will do to you.