August 2011

I’m back addicted to knitting.  I got over it for a while because I felt so busy at work, and with work.  Now, thought, I have promised my dad a pair of fingerless gloves so I better make good on that.  I started that project Friday and have made good progress thus far.  It’s a fun pattern.  I also have recently become enamored of the idea of knitting myself socks.  I keep getting the craft newsletters that feature socks and shawls and sweaters and things, and I find myself drooling over the sock ideas.  I want to make myself tons of socks and maybe then some stockings or tights  and then maybe a sweater and or skirt or sweaterdress or cardigan or pretty lacy shawl and then I can make more of the one I like and then I can make myself all new clothes and they’ll be so pretty and it’ll be so fun. . . send help.


ed. note:  I spoke too soon.  There’s something to do with the thumb webbing part, but while it tells me to add stitches for that, it doesn’t tell me where, or how.  COME ON INTERNET HELP ME HERE.


I may have made up a word, or just have not expanded my vocabulary enough to know it’s real.  Either way, I like it.  And it’s what I did this evening.  Driving home, I was singing along absentmindedly to a song while swooping one arm out the window.  I wasn’t driving absently, I was merely singing and swooping absently.  There’s a difference.  I then realized that my arm was quite happy, swooping along, because it was reminiscent of being in water.  That did distract me from driving, but nothing bad happened at all. It was a short thought.  I got home, convinced Nikolai to walk down to the apartment’s pool with me, then chickened out because there could be people and the people might see me and think I looked silly.  Also swimming suits are difficult to maneuver onto my person, being as they are primarily composed of spandex and attitude.

We made it to the pool only to notice that our key (which I got last year) no longer matched the lock, but an obliging neighbor  uh. . obliged us, by leaving the other gate propped open.  This was not noticed, of course, until after Nikolai repeatedly attempted to unlock the gate with the key to my office.  Guess what didn’t work.  The water was nice though, I floated around like a confused manatee (in manner, not appearance) (okay maybe appearance but not body type) while Nick reclined on the warm concrete and stuck his legs in.

I decided to attempt a few laps, and promptly had a giggle-fit every time I had to get started in shallower depth.  The action of flailing my lower body into a more horizontal position made me think of a dog being put in water against it’s will, kind of like this:

But I did manage to swim a few laps in between giggles.  I am woefully out of shape, and swimming always reinforces this fact.  I was still breathing heavy when we got back to the apartment.  However, that is something of a downer ending so go watch the little dog again.

exhibit 1:  When I am sitting at my desk, happily eating a morning snack of pistachios that require a lot of mouth-touching and aren’t the daintiest of edibles, and focusing on my screen.  Not too bad, you say?  Well, then I catch motion out of the corner of my eye and see my boss and another advisor flailing about through the window of the conference room.  As soon as they have my attention, they motion for water.

My question is this:  How long were they flailing and shouting before I caught on?