Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Monday, December 05, 2005
knitting and beer, a match made in heaven
I went to the knitting bar yesterday with Joe and Michelle. It rocked. It was part dive bar/part artsy-political bar, but it was fun. They played oldies soul and I knitted 1/8th of a scarf. Actually right now it's a potholder, and a damn fine one at that. I am getting the hang of casting on and knitting...perling is looming on the horizon, but I'm scared. I'd much rather just knit stitches for an eternity. We also stopped in a yarn shop before we went to the bar, and one of the employees, a barefooted pot-bellied guy, went on for FIFTEEN minutes about how pissed he was that they cut out his "wizard battle" in Lord of the Rings so they could have a scene with Arwen. What was worse is that I knew exactly what wizard battle he was talking about. It's tough being a closet geek.
I watched Simpsons and Family guy last night and I've determined there are two types of people in the world: Those that watch Simpsons and Family guy on Sunday night, and those who watch Desperate Housewives and Grey's Anatomy. I think I'm like one of 12 girls that is in the first group. I've watched DH a few times and it's ok...it's a little too Knots Landing for me. And what's up with that nerdy little kid with the glasses? Why doesn't someone just slap the shit out of him? The Susan lady seems terrified of him...then again, she looks like she might break in half if she sneezed too hard...
Since Mike has been in Taiwan I've been cuddling with Herve in bed. I never thought I'd be the kind of person that slept with their dog, but then again, I also swore I'd never refer to myself as Herve's "Mommy" or dress him in little outfits. Getting a puppy must activate the cheesy 50-year old housewife center of my brain. Pretty soon I'll be decoupaging furniture and wearing sweatshirts with horses and kittens.
But anyway, it's nice to sleep with something warm (and furry?) at night, but every morning I wake up with my eyes swollen half-shut and a head full of snot. I don't think I'm allergic to dogs, but then again, I've never spent 8 hours face down in puppy fur. I should probably banish Herve to his crate, but his pathetic whining will probably be more aggravating then 20 minutes of nose-blowing in the morning. Also, having Herve near me allows me to be sure he is or isn't the one making weird noises at night that terrify me. If he's not next to me, I'll think his snoring is the sound of a demented chainsaw killer, sawing his way into my apartment to disembowel me for no reason. Sometimes, an over-active imagination can suck.
I watched Simpsons and Family guy last night and I've determined there are two types of people in the world: Those that watch Simpsons and Family guy on Sunday night, and those who watch Desperate Housewives and Grey's Anatomy. I think I'm like one of 12 girls that is in the first group. I've watched DH a few times and it's ok...it's a little too Knots Landing for me. And what's up with that nerdy little kid with the glasses? Why doesn't someone just slap the shit out of him? The Susan lady seems terrified of him...then again, she looks like she might break in half if she sneezed too hard...
Since Mike has been in Taiwan I've been cuddling with Herve in bed. I never thought I'd be the kind of person that slept with their dog, but then again, I also swore I'd never refer to myself as Herve's "Mommy" or dress him in little outfits. Getting a puppy must activate the cheesy 50-year old housewife center of my brain. Pretty soon I'll be decoupaging furniture and wearing sweatshirts with horses and kittens.
But anyway, it's nice to sleep with something warm (and furry?) at night, but every morning I wake up with my eyes swollen half-shut and a head full of snot. I don't think I'm allergic to dogs, but then again, I've never spent 8 hours face down in puppy fur. I should probably banish Herve to his crate, but his pathetic whining will probably be more aggravating then 20 minutes of nose-blowing in the morning. Also, having Herve near me allows me to be sure he is or isn't the one making weird noises at night that terrify me. If he's not next to me, I'll think his snoring is the sound of a demented chainsaw killer, sawing his way into my apartment to disembowel me for no reason. Sometimes, an over-active imagination can suck.
