New Hair!

That's right, I've been more or less a recluse for the last week. Last Saturday, I decided to cut my hair and donate about a foot of hair (about 10" braided) to Locks of Love. I've talked about doing it since... forever, but finally mustered up the courage to go to the hairdresser and get it done.

I love my hairdresser, especially since I've gotten married. Now that I'm an "adult" (it's cultural), she actually does what I ask her to, instead of what my mother thinks I should do.

So I show up, hair braided, hair ties securing the braid at both ends (because I am prepared), and I tell her what I want to do. As she is cutting- about halfway done cutting my braid off, something in my stomach screams, "Nooooooooooo!"

"Oh well, too late to go back," I think as she hands me my braid.

Ick. Hair is okay when it's on your head, but I find it really gross otherwise. I have no such qualms about hair from other critters, I'm just grossed out by detached human hair.

I bag it, and we commence with the giving-me-a-cute-haircut process. It was great, she blow-dried my hair straight (which makes it "flippy", a la my nieces and nephew), and I went over to my parent's house to pick up mom to do... whatever it was we were doing that day.

I proudly brandish my braid-in-a-bag, and my mother (not missing a beat) says, "You think that's cool? Wait 'til you see this!"

She comes out with a braid. From when I was really little. I know parents do this, but EW! I guess loving my gross, no-longer-attached-to-my-head hair is something only my parents would do.

Pics to be posted once we download the pics off of the camera.

Possession

The boyfriend sweater bit got me to thinking about possession. I'm all crazy when it comes to some things.

Some things you give up because you don't want them anymore. It's okay if you never see these things- say, like, a dress,- but if you see someone else wearing YOUR dress (and you know there isn't another one), don't you feel like walking up, ripping back your thing (a dress in this case) and saying, "This is MINE."

Maybe not you. Maybe you're one of those magnanimous people who can give things away and detach. I'm okay giving away things that are intended for other people, like, I'll never look at something I've knitted for someone and want to snatch it back for myself.

But there are just some things that I feel that way about. It's totally crazy, because I've gotten rid of it because I didn't want it anymore, and then I get this weird, "You can't have it, it's MINE," thing.

Just some random weirdness. I am the most villainous villain, by the way. Upcoming blog posting.

The Forbidden Undercurve

I was party to a rather interesting conversation last night between Chris and Andrew about the Forbidden Undercurve. For the contingency of people who are not familiar with this term, it refers to the curve that is underneath the breast- the curve that is rarely (if ever) seen, and rivals the nipple as far as forbiddenness is concerned.

So I reach out to whomever happens to stumble across my blog. Forbidden Undercurve- hotter than the rest of the boob? You decide.

Please, can I have the pleasure of wiping for you as well?

I'm on a bunch of e-mail lists for various yarn stores across the country. So when an e-mail from one of the locals popped up, I took a look. To protect the stupid, I'm not posting the name of the yarn store (but will gladly share it if asked over e-mail), but within the text of their announcements/advertisement was the following:

"If you're stuck on your holiday project, we'll help you over the hurdle. If you're not stuck, but just tired of knitting, let us knit a few rows for you to give you a break."

OMFFSM! (Oh My Flipping Flying Spaghetti Monster) I think these poor fools have NO idea what they're in for. All of their clueless, trendy knitters showing up in hopes of getting their projects knitted FOR them!

I don't mind people who want help, but people who expect me to do their knitting for them usually find me a bit unpleasant. I don't mind when people take credit for their own work that I've helped with, but I do mind- very much- when people want to hand me their knitting to do an "expert" job, and then want to take credit for themselves. Homie don't play that, yo.

The sick thing is that we're going to get complaints that we aren't offering the same, "Please, we'll do the knitting FOR you," policy. Do these crazy people not have enough going on in their own knitterly lives that they're itching to help finish projects for the poor planners who frequent their establishment?

Nevermind the fact that people's gauge is so very different that this nice "offer" may make the project look even worse. "See this section? The one without mistakes, that's all even? A PROFESSIONAL did that." Nice. At least if it's consistant, it's easier to cover up.

That's why I start any holiday knitting in May. So that I don't have this last minute holiday panic. Maybe I can teach a class on time management...

-Santa's meanest elf

Grace and I can be fat together

So, Grace blogged about how she felt like Rosie O'Donnell because she gets winded on her second lap. I get winded on my FIRST lap. I am not a runner.

The only time I could be considered even somewhat athletic was high school, when I was in marching band. I've never, ever been a runner, though. I'll walk at a brisk pace, but I do NOT run.

I enjoy wrestling, but that's fairly stationary and based on strength, wiles, and in my case, cheating at all costs. I'll gladly take on someone twice my size- and win. (Wrestling was also a pick-up method I used in high school. Ask David, Chris, and Zak. They'll all attest to it.)

I was on the swim team one year. I liked the workout aspect, but I never liked the competitive part, or the crazed coach (who was the reason I quit two weeks before the end of the season). I just liked swimming and being buff.

There really isn't any point to this post, just to point out that just because you're not much for running doesn't mean you're fat, Grace.

'Tis the season of the eternal question: To Knit or Not To Knit?

I'm a good knitter. I'm not going to be all braggy and say I'm the best. I'm not. There are techniques I haven't done because of lack of interest and time. There are techniques that I love (CABLES!), and things I knit to keep my sanity (socks).

It's the time of year when everyone in my circle of acquaintances asks if I'm knitting for everyone. The answer is NO. I am knitting for no one this year. If you don't count Mom's six-inch red square, at her request. But she's my mother, who gave birth to me and that counts for something. Even if she was only in labor with me for 45 minutes. (Anyone who takes more than an hour to be born is a bad child. Ha!)

There are people who feel obligated to knit for everyone. I tried that one year. I got two gifts in and decided that other gifts would be more appreciated, and wouldn't give me tendinitis. What a deal! For the cost of the yarn for each project, I could give them something that was thoughtful, and not the fruit of my needles. And not agonize over whether they would ever wear it. I think I was 16 the year I figured that out.

Knitters appreciate handknit gifts. If you're handing out lace shawls, put me at the top of your list. I like Zephyr (silk/wool blend), and I'll even buy the yarn. You bet I'm not knitting one of those. Lace like that hurts my eyes. But I LOVE to wear it, and it looks good on me. Other than that, I appreciate the beauty of handknit stuff. On other people, because it's like giving the Ice Cream Man a tub of vanilla ice cream. It's not exciting, and it's a little redundant.

I feel you, LovingHands. You want to clothe the world in your love. But if you knit for everyone, chances are, your intentions are better than your handwork. Most of your recipients won't gush over your pieces, and you'll be angry that they don't appreciate you. Sad but true.

My feelings on the matter? Make them BEG for knitted gifts. That's right. You wait, you don't knit for your friend/girlfriend/boyfriend/fiancee/friend with benefits until they BEG for it. Like so:

"Jasmin, pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease make me some socks. I love handknit socks. I would do ANYTHING for a pair of your socks."

Let's face it, according to the laws of supply and demand, the more of your stuff that is in circulation, the less people will want it. Most people don't want it anyway. Not your teenaged niece- especially not your teenaged nephew, and FSM forbid you knit for you Significant Other. You know why boyfriend sweaters are the kiss of death? Because they see a sweater you made for yourself, since they're not the sweater-wearing type. They see YOUR sweater in their drawer, and girl, you might as well have moved in all your stuff that day. He sees you forcing commitment into his dresser drawers and he wants NO part in that. There you are, dumped, wanting YOUR sweater back. But it's not your sweater anymore, because you GAVE it away.

See? All this pain, when you could have given him an Xbox game, or something else x-rated instead. The moral of this post? Make them beg for that handknit love goodness.

-Santa's meanest elf.

I love WEBS.

It's really awesome when you order something and it shows up promptly. This may seem obvious to you, but when you are ordering something like yarn from Mom & Pop yarn stores, the time when you order and the time when you actually receive the item can be two entirely different things.

For example, a year and a half ago, I ordered some Regia from an online store- a specific color pattern for a specific task. After two weeks of waiting (and they, ahem, had charged my credit card already), I sent an e-mail saying "Hey, where's my stuff?"

I got an e-mail back saying that they did NOT have ANY Regia in stock, but would be happy to pick something "close" out for me. You're joking, right? I work in a yarn store. Although all of Regia's colors are not unique, THIS color was. Believe me, I looked far and wide.

I responded curtly that if they had ZERO Regia in stock, they shouldn't have charged my credit card, and should have alerted me as soon as they saw the order, not, like whenever I called. Jeez.

So, back to WEBS. Cynthia ordered some GORGEOUS green Malbrigo, and I ordered some more Noro so that I can finish my Einstein. Not being Einstein-y myself, I didn't think about the fact that if I lengthened the coat from the length that I normally knit for myself, I would need more yarn.

So picture me, zipping along, knitting my Einstein, getting to ball #6 of 10, and realizing "Oh. I'm going to need more yarn. A LOT more yarn." So we placed the order, and yesterday, BAM! it's here. It's been a few days between, but it was before my "Where the hell is my yarn?" length of time. (For those of you who need specifics, this is about two weeks.) I've ordered from them before, and I've had good service before. They were a little rude in person at Stitches last year, but there was a long line and I was slow in forking over the plastic.

Speaking of Stitches, I've decided that I need to win the Secret Sound on KRTY. Or Andrew can win it. That way, I can spend with little restraint and have a wicked good time. Or, you know, not buy any yarn that I don't absolutely HAVE to have.

Speaking of yarn... I like the newest issue of Knitter's Magazine. True, it's not chock-full of stuff I love, but there are 3 or 4 things I would (and am planning to knit). Granted, some of it makes me want to yack, but overall, it's not like there isn't ONE thing I would knit, which is sad, because that's how I've felt about Interweave Knits, which used to be my favorite. I've always liked Knitter's, but it's not always a good fit for me, which Interweave WAS a few years ago. Maybe I've grown and changed, or not. Overall, Vogue Knitting seems to be the most consistent (up until the last few issues) about having a balance of too-trendy and classic stuff. Just my two cents. Like you care.

Gil Grissom is hot. And this rat-baby is named Grissom, but he's just adorable.

Wierd dreams, again, and inappropriate pictures

Last night I dreamt that I was in graduate school, getting some sort of advanced degree in English Lit. I was attending grad school at my high school and I couldn't remember my locker combination. I came home and gave birth after school.

Now, before everyone gets all excited because they think I'm prego, hold your horses. I'm not.

It was wierd because I gave birth, and then my STOMACH hurt, instead of my bits.

In other bits of offensive news, I checked my MySpace this morning and there was a message and friend request from a guy named William. I usually check their pages, and I don't add people who I don't know personally, but sometimes people I know have wierd pictures up as their little avatar thing. So I click "see my other pictures" and there are like 5 pictures of his penis. What exactly is this prince of a man seeking on MySpace? Sex with women who are willing to give it away.

Now, this definition is CLEARLY what I look for on MySpace (definitely not to reconnect with people I've lost contact with, no), but to add insult to injury, PenisPictureMan's message to me said that my smile lit up his room and he was hoping to get to know me better. He's in his 40's, which isn't a deal breaker for me (since I like older men), but is since I'm married (pesky husband) and how I'm not going to have free sex with men who post pictures of their penises on the internet.

It's one thing to sneak a picture of your boyfriend/lover/husband's bits when he's, say, washing the dishes naked and doesn't know you have the camera, but unsolicitied penis pictures are just tacky. I mean, ICK! My fault, I suppose for thinking it may be someone I know.

On this note, penises are not particularly photogenic. I mean, of all the "forbidden" parts, it's the most funny looking. Not that vaginas are much better, but they can look like flowers and stuff. According to Georgia O'Keefe.

I laughed at the inappropriate penis pics. What can I say? Genitals make me laugh.

Things that annoy me

1. People who say "kin-nee-garten" instead of "kindergarten".

2. People who say "pitcher" and are referring to a photo or drawing, not a baseball guy.

3. Loud chewers/ people who chew with their mouths open/ people who smack their lips in appreciation. Although I am under the impression that this is considered polite in some Asian cultures, none of the offenders has had any link to the far East (other than possibly a fetish).

There are more, but I thought I would post those for now.