Remember last fall when I was all jacked up for the Rove indictment? Well, color me...uhm...re-jacked! All I want is for, at some point, there to be handcuffs. And electroshock to subdue him. And prison time. With a cellmate named Big Red.
FYI, people, I just wanted to tell you that I changed my NEW!CELL!PHONE!'s ringtone to be the "Charlie's Angels" theme. I am going to spend all day long pretending to be Farrah in the episode where she goes undercover in the roller derby!
It is remarkable to me that I can be having a solidly bad day by 6am...but I have been. Woke up 90 minutes later than I should have, dropped my bra into a sink filled with water rendering it soggily unwearable for the day, realized in the calm light of morning that this toe-up sock thing is not really working out (holes in the short-row heels), etc. Thank goodness for coffee.
Have I told you guys about my new neighbor? She just got out of jail -- SO best -- and I realized on Monday that she is having "viewing parties" for the teevee show "Prison Break." I wonder if she just feels, like, so pissed that she didn't think to get her whole body tattooed with a map of the Berkshire county jail.
Seen/heard:United 93 opens today at Tribeca Film Festival and, like everyone else, I have mixed feelings about it; I thought Bush's speech about energy prices yesterday was hysterical (oh yes, Mr. President, I do wonder how those oil companies got all those tax breaks, sooo shocking!); the idea of a High Fidelity musical sort of makes me want to take my own life; hard to believe, but the Chernobyl disaster happened 20 years ago today -- I remember it very clearly since my little 'burby hometown is right next to...wait for it...a nuclear power plant.
As promised, two not-so-great photos from the Yarn Harlot event...the crowd shot, goodness knows who all those people are, I was just trying to get a sense of the scale. (I don't think it worked -- it was really crowded! I have been to that hotel before for a thing at my old job, and it is only because I knew the place that I found a parking spot, even though I didn't get there until 5 minutes before kickoff.) I think I was the only person there alone, everyone else had so many friends! I sat in front of these two women, one of whom suffered delusions of comedy grandeur. I wouldn't call it heckling, per se, but it was something. Something that probably would have annoyed me quite a lot, had I not fucked up a heel while Stephanie was talking, so thus all my annoyance was self-directed. (The same heel dogged me all day long, a fucking easy-as-pie heel I've done a gajillion times by now! Cursed heel!) Anyway, you can probably barely make out Stephanie in that second photo. She was very small! She looks a lot like the boss of my boss, so I assumed she would talk like her also, but she did not, which distracted me for a little while. It was cute and funny, and, best of all, I got Stephanie to sign a book for my mom whose arm just healed enough to knit again -- since I am a collector of rare books, I know the value of a weird personal inscription, so I hope Mama Pink will enjoy.
And yeah, Zach-with-whom-I-shared-a-delightful-lunch-beforehand, it was just kind of a starfucker thing, but, eh, knitting blog starfucking is so much less...starfuckerey!
Also, I have been meaning to post photos of some socks I finished ages ago. There are some I made for Mr. Pink also, but he has been out of the house a lot lately, so I can't get him to hold still for documentation. As for my own feet. The pink lacey ones are from some random looseleaf pattern I had actually made before, but tried with a different yarn. I don't like them in Kroy looks-wise (when I made them before, they were for a swap and very delicate-looking, made from Opal), but pink is pink, and they are warm and look spunky with my lime green shoes. Uhm, because I am five. (I was too afraid to even mention the Barbie barette I often wear with this ensemble when just hanging out in the house, eep.) Anyway. The other socks are some coveted Vesper Neopolitan ones in a chevron pattern I got out of Sensational Knitted Socks, and Cat Viola is admiring them. Note the poorly executed "forethought" heel -- kiss my ASS, forethought heel, KISS IT! But the socks are pretty rad, if I do say so myself.
Oh yes, the Style section covers Draft Day! Two worlds collide! Two AWESOME worlds, that is! In fact, next weekend chez Pink promises to be a mashup of two recent Style section stories, as I have my long-awaited hair appointment to recapture the "New York Blonde" (le sigh), followed by many happy hours of watching the draft. Ahhh!
I have exactly 2 photos of questionable quality from the Yarn Harlot thing this past weekend, and I would have posted them last night had I not been sidetracked by the endless wonder of the toe-up sock construction. (It's my first time...please be gentle, short-row heel! I used the hella awesome cast-on from Knitty and it's like the heavens opened up and baby Jesus smiled down!) So the photos will come tonight. It was a cool event, followed by heading back to Webs where I spent a truly retarded amount of money on yarn I did not need. (But the prospect of some Shaeffer Anne in hott pinks and reds to make over-the-knee socks was too much for me to resist! Wait, am I too old to wear over-the-knee socks? Should they just go to my knees? Ankles? Should I just give up and move on to support hose already?)
ETA: Whoa, also seen in the Style section (the real news is so...depressing, it's so nice to think about pretty things, insert insipid giggle here) -- lit-up knitting needles!
How much are y'all paying for gas, by the way? It's over $3/gallon here, which is such bullshit. I remember when I went to all those anti-war protests and the "Go Home RNC" thing, everyone had all the "No Blood for Oil" signs and whatever...and now, you know, uhm, where the fuck is my oil? You have the blood, bitches! Apparently it's really "No Oil for Blood"!
(Seriously, though, Mr. Pink and I were talking about this yesterday and I wonder, is it possible that the rather simplistic "No Blood for Oil" protestor folks actually coveyed a cogent message to the public at large leading to an expectation for lower prices at the pump post-Iraq invasion? An expectation bound to lead to disappointment, given the impending Peak Oil crisis and increasing instability abroad and increasing consumption issues? Because, talk about accidental effectiveness!)
Notable: the Times Union turns 150 years young today. I think WAMC is doing some such thing to assist the celebration this morning...? Also, as mentioned, the Noho Yarn Harlot book thingamabob is not at Webs, but at the nearby Clarion Hotel on Route 5. (Is it weird that I am utterly paralyzed as to what to wear to a knitting lecture? I don't want to wear anything I've made that isn't flawless, so that leaves me with socks, scarves, shawls, mittens, gloves and other accessories [my sweaters are okay, but I see some lumpy seams when I look at them, because I am a neurotic perfectionist]. And those accessory items are probably not really enough, no matter how I drape them across myself. I will need to wear, like, a shirt and pants too, I think. Decisions!) Anyway! See you bitches there.
2) Very out of character behavior clocked at 9:42 am: I ate part of a cannoli for breakfast. I hate breakfast, sugary things and cannolis. No idea why I did this, but I plan to explore it in therapy ten years from now.