(or, Conspiracy Theory #467541564897)
We've re-started our Netflix membership, and after doing Tivo alone for 8 months I have realized that Tivo and Netflix are working in collusion.
Stay with me on this one.
Tivo looks at what we choose to record and makes suggestions, like a good friend. Without the pressure, you know? It's like this:
Tivo: "Hi Jasmin, you're awesome. You'd probably like House, MD."
Jasmin: "I don't know. I guess I could give it a try. One episode won't be too bad. Even if it is, I can always turn it off."
Tivo: "You're so open-minded, and not at all set in your ways."
Jasmin "Thanks, Tivo. Nobody understands me like you do."
Ok, maybe it's not EXACTLY like that, but you get the point. Anyway, before I even started watching "House", I had a dream about Dr. House.
You know. One of THOSE dreams. Very vivid. 'Nuff said. I figured I should at least watch the show to find out if my dream was even close. It was. [His personality. I can't vouch for the rest.]
So because of Tivo, we're Netflixing the first two seasons to catch up, and I'm a crazy House addict.
I mean, I don't get all shaky and get withdrawal symptoms if I don't watch. And I haven't started saving them forever on the Tivo. [Yet.] I haven't bought it on DVD.
I don't have a problem. I can quit whenever I want. * wink *
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Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Growth
I decided that I needed a red ribbon top to go with my sexy red shoes. I'm hoping to have it done soon, so I've dedicated all of my "downstairs" knitting time to this top.
Keep in mind, I am making the same top out of yellow ribbon, but I couldn't meet my MS&W deadline, so I gave up. It's now in the UFO pile.
I looked at my red top, and I realized that the yellow top was even closer to completion. Once I finish my red top, the yellow one is the next one on my list to clean out of the UFO pile and absolve this "finishing" issue.
It's not that I have a problem with the knitting itself, usually. It's usually a focus thing. Everyone gets bored with their knitting occasionally, and wanders to a new, more exciting project.
There's the fun part- the creativity, the beginning, the possibilities. But then, like the original project, the Mistress Project that I originally found much more fun and exciting becomes just another UFO.
I've been working through the UFO pile steadily, though. Finish one new thing, one old thing. Come to terms with my inability to really commit to finishing things that I start.
I've ripped out projects that don't thrill me; save the yarn, use the needles elsewhere. Why have another UFO hanging over my head that I never really intend to finish? More often than not, the yarn turns into something twice as good the second time around.
On the Yarn Diet front, I haven't had a real temptation since the Regia Silk, but KnitPicks has a dye-your-own superwash wool that I think I'm going to purchase at some point for baby blankets. Once I've knit up the dedicated "baby blanket" yarn in my stash.
Yes, I've been inspired to knit baby blankets. No, I am not pregnant, despite what everyone in the world thinks/wants.
Just wait. It'll happen.
Keep in mind, I am making the same top out of yellow ribbon, but I couldn't meet my MS&W deadline, so I gave up. It's now in the UFO pile.
I looked at my red top, and I realized that the yellow top was even closer to completion. Once I finish my red top, the yellow one is the next one on my list to clean out of the UFO pile and absolve this "finishing" issue.
It's not that I have a problem with the knitting itself, usually. It's usually a focus thing. Everyone gets bored with their knitting occasionally, and wanders to a new, more exciting project.
There's the fun part- the creativity, the beginning, the possibilities. But then, like the original project, the Mistress Project that I originally found much more fun and exciting becomes just another UFO.
I've been working through the UFO pile steadily, though. Finish one new thing, one old thing. Come to terms with my inability to really commit to finishing things that I start.
I've ripped out projects that don't thrill me; save the yarn, use the needles elsewhere. Why have another UFO hanging over my head that I never really intend to finish? More often than not, the yarn turns into something twice as good the second time around.
On the Yarn Diet front, I haven't had a real temptation since the Regia Silk, but KnitPicks has a dye-your-own superwash wool that I think I'm going to purchase at some point for baby blankets. Once I've knit up the dedicated "baby blanket" yarn in my stash.
Yes, I've been inspired to knit baby blankets. No, I am not pregnant, despite what everyone in the world thinks/wants.
Just wait. It'll happen.
Friday, August 18, 2006
“It’s a blessing… And a curse.”
I love my job. I truly do. It's not a sexy job, despite what my nephew thinks, but I offset that by wearing my sexy shoes to work. As Adrian Monk puts it so succinctly, "It's a blessing… And a curse."
I work with a team of wonderful people, who are all brilliant and funny and charming and generous with their time and chocolate. We all work together, and this is the first time EVER when "group work" did not equal "Jasmin doing everything."
I work for a wonderful, generous man. My manager recognizes hard work and rewards it. He has never made me feel bad about myself [with the exception of my interview, when I thought he was really, really gruff but he was just playing "Bad Cop"], and has dealt with my lack of experience with a sense of humor and a great deal of patience. He also has the grace to make fun of me, to make sure that I really know that I am a valued member of the team. [Teasing = "We like you."]
D [my manager] understands the need for sick days, vacation days, and the importance of leaving early on Fridays. D is the Master of All Managers because he recognizes that by rolling up his sleeves and doing menial tasks with us (like filing or stuffing envelopes) he has won our eternal love and the devotion to work months of consecutive 10+ hour days without complaint. Well, without much complaining. D also will repeatedly tell you to go home when you come in looking like a Dead Rat on a Stick.
D also did not fire me for being sarcastic with him (which has happened increasingly since the first "test" sarcasm), and also did not fire me for offering to "take this outside". He thought it was funny.
I was overjoyed to find out that my 6 month contract (up on 8/20) had been extended for another 6 months (expiring 02/20/07). He also wrote me a very nice note letting me know that I was a valuable member of the team and he recognizes and appreciates my hard work.
Now, I am SO glad that I don't have to worry about finding another job, and worse, having to work for someone who is less that D is. The Curse part?
I don't get to sleep in on Monday and revel in my jobless-ness. Granted, I would get bored to tears without a job, but it's been a hard, but good few months. I think the fact that my "vacation" in May (Maryland Sheep & Wool) was no vacation at all; I wandered for less than an hour the whole 3 days, and dealt with hot (and some unhappy) customers at the Tess booth the rest of the weekend.
MS&W was full of 12-hour days, and your protagonist came back with a nasty sunburn, and had her identity/credit card number stolen. I was more tired than when I left. Bad deal.
This would still be the job I wanted, because I'm learning TONS, and despite the fact that I feel that I'm a complete fraud, I am really good at what I am doing. I would just prefer a more flexible schedule. Like, come in and work as long as you feel like and go home. But I guess that's everyone's dream job.
I've begun climbing the ladder from Office Monkey to someone who is a necessary part of the team. Woo!
I work with a team of wonderful people, who are all brilliant and funny and charming and generous with their time and chocolate. We all work together, and this is the first time EVER when "group work" did not equal "Jasmin doing everything."
I work for a wonderful, generous man. My manager recognizes hard work and rewards it. He has never made me feel bad about myself [with the exception of my interview, when I thought he was really, really gruff but he was just playing "Bad Cop"], and has dealt with my lack of experience with a sense of humor and a great deal of patience. He also has the grace to make fun of me, to make sure that I really know that I am a valued member of the team. [Teasing = "We like you."]
D [my manager] understands the need for sick days, vacation days, and the importance of leaving early on Fridays. D is the Master of All Managers because he recognizes that by rolling up his sleeves and doing menial tasks with us (like filing or stuffing envelopes) he has won our eternal love and the devotion to work months of consecutive 10+ hour days without complaint. Well, without much complaining. D also will repeatedly tell you to go home when you come in looking like a Dead Rat on a Stick.
D also did not fire me for being sarcastic with him (which has happened increasingly since the first "test" sarcasm), and also did not fire me for offering to "take this outside". He thought it was funny.
I was overjoyed to find out that my 6 month contract (up on 8/20) had been extended for another 6 months (expiring 02/20/07). He also wrote me a very nice note letting me know that I was a valuable member of the team and he recognizes and appreciates my hard work.
Now, I am SO glad that I don't have to worry about finding another job, and worse, having to work for someone who is less that D is. The Curse part?
I don't get to sleep in on Monday and revel in my jobless-ness. Granted, I would get bored to tears without a job, but it's been a hard, but good few months. I think the fact that my "vacation" in May (Maryland Sheep & Wool) was no vacation at all; I wandered for less than an hour the whole 3 days, and dealt with hot (and some unhappy) customers at the Tess booth the rest of the weekend.
MS&W was full of 12-hour days, and your protagonist came back with a nasty sunburn, and had her identity/credit card number stolen. I was more tired than when I left. Bad deal.
This would still be the job I wanted, because I'm learning TONS, and despite the fact that I feel that I'm a complete fraud, I am really good at what I am doing. I would just prefer a more flexible schedule. Like, come in and work as long as you feel like and go home. But I guess that's everyone's dream job.
I've begun climbing the ladder from Office Monkey to someone who is a necessary part of the team. Woo!
Monday, August 14, 2006
A Small Complaint
[This is the e-mail I would have sent if I truly lacked social filters at work. This is not to anyone I work with, rather it is to someone who works on my floor.]
Dear Sir;
Although I appreciate that you are blinded by my amazing ability to multi-task, work overtime, and do any number of other mind-blowing tasks, I would like to remind you that no matter * how * much you would like me to set up your office, that is nowhere near within the scope of my responsibilities.
You may remember when we discussed this about a month ago, I directed you to your Group Admin (who is NOT me, despite my mind-boggling-ly hyphenated title). Since you left and have returned, your requests are still not within the scope of my professional duties.
Furthermore, calling my office first (from two doors down) and then appearing in my doorway five seconds later in order to chastise me for not doing someone else's job was not appreciated. Bless my co-worker's heart who told you where to go to get what you need accomplished. Yet again. She also remembered telling you the last time that I am not only not part of your group, but part of an entirely separate group. Our physical proximity, charming as it may be, does not designate me as your personal go-to person. I do that for my team, and that's more than enough, thanks.
I also do not appreciate the tone of voice which you use when addressing me. I understand that my vibrant personality and the youthful exuberance that I exude may give off the impression that I lack direction and tasks. I assure you that this is not the case. I can also assure you, that despite the fact that I quite possibly am the youngest person on this floor, I deserve to be treated with the same respect you show anyone else. I am not your daughter and I do not work for you. If my manager can be polite and friendly to me, someone as low-ranking and seemingly temporary as yourself can manage to behave similarly.
Also, if I was in charge of setting up your office, based on your attitude, I would make sure it took a long time, was a mess of inconveniences (for you) and any phone that you eventually got would give you testicular cancer.
Best Regards,
Jasmin the Great
Dear Sir;
Although I appreciate that you are blinded by my amazing ability to multi-task, work overtime, and do any number of other mind-blowing tasks, I would like to remind you that no matter * how * much you would like me to set up your office, that is nowhere near within the scope of my responsibilities.
You may remember when we discussed this about a month ago, I directed you to your Group Admin (who is NOT me, despite my mind-boggling-ly hyphenated title). Since you left and have returned, your requests are still not within the scope of my professional duties.
Furthermore, calling my office first (from two doors down) and then appearing in my doorway five seconds later in order to chastise me for not doing someone else's job was not appreciated. Bless my co-worker's heart who told you where to go to get what you need accomplished. Yet again. She also remembered telling you the last time that I am not only not part of your group, but part of an entirely separate group. Our physical proximity, charming as it may be, does not designate me as your personal go-to person. I do that for my team, and that's more than enough, thanks.
I also do not appreciate the tone of voice which you use when addressing me. I understand that my vibrant personality and the youthful exuberance that I exude may give off the impression that I lack direction and tasks. I assure you that this is not the case. I can also assure you, that despite the fact that I quite possibly am the youngest person on this floor, I deserve to be treated with the same respect you show anyone else. I am not your daughter and I do not work for you. If my manager can be polite and friendly to me, someone as low-ranking and seemingly temporary as yourself can manage to behave similarly.
Also, if I was in charge of setting up your office, based on your attitude, I would make sure it took a long time, was a mess of inconveniences (for you) and any phone that you eventually got would give you testicular cancer.
Best Regards,
Jasmin the Great
Wednesday, August 9, 2006
“When I Grow Up”
I had an interesting interchange with Sarah,while we were eating lunch (Sarah is 11, going on 45). We are listening to streaming Broadway on the Tivo, and something with Patti LuPone starts to play.
"I want to be Patti LuPone when I grow up," I announce.
"But you're already grown up," Sarah points out.
"But I'm not Patti LuPone yet," I answer sensibly.
So, in case that wasn't clear, here's the equation:
Jasmin ≠ Patti LuPone ≠ Grown Up.
"I want to be Patti LuPone when I grow up," I announce.
"But you're already grown up," Sarah points out.
"But I'm not Patti LuPone yet," I answer sensibly.
So, in case that wasn't clear, here's the equation:
Jasmin ≠ Patti LuPone ≠ Grown Up.
Sunday, August 6, 2006
Andrew Haiku
Andrew gave me a very thoughtful gift for our 5 year anniversary. I'll post a photo later. For now, here is a haiku I wrote for him:
You are very tall,
Your arms are like the ape,
And your wife is cute.
Your arms are like the ape,
And your wife is cute.
Wednesday, August 2, 2006
The “Ball Of Yarn" Effect
I have a theory about time.
When you are knitting from the outside of a ball of yarn, the closer you get to the end of the ball, the faster your yarn runs out.
(So, the same time that it originally took for one circle of yarn around the ball gets seemingly exponentially smaller.)
So, running with my ball of yarn metaphor, as you get older, time seems to pass more quickly.
Just a thought.
When you are knitting from the outside of a ball of yarn, the closer you get to the end of the ball, the faster your yarn runs out.
(So, the same time that it originally took for one circle of yarn around the ball gets seemingly exponentially smaller.)
So, running with my ball of yarn metaphor, as you get older, time seems to pass more quickly.
Just a thought.
Tuesday, August 1, 2006
KIP-ping (Knitting In Public)
Some knitters are of the opinion that Knitting In Public (KIPping) is alienating. As in "Oh, it makes you uncomfortable that I'm sitting here knitting during [activity]? I'll just put it away. Is that better?"
I feel that these are the same people who conform in every aspect of their lives in order not to ruffle anyone's feathers. I won't sacrifice my own comfort for the comfort of strangers, and although I have been approached by a number of crazy people when KIPping, that hasn't been enough to stop me.
I knit in the movie theater (sans the dorky/cool light-up needles). In fact, at V for Vendetta, I found that I could do all of the tricky parts of a sock in the theater. Woo! I knit through my "optional" lunch meeting, which spurs conversations of all kinds before/after the main topic of the meeting is discussed. I knit my way through high school and college, finding that it helped me concentrate on the lecture.
Why hasn't it been an issue for me? Because I can maintain eye contact, and participate in the conversation while I knit. Not normal eye contact either. The "staring contest" kind of eye contact, which is a little creepy. But the point is made, and I only do it the first time my ability to participate in a conversation while knitting is questioned.
I usually knit socks in public, since they're super-portable. However, I found that while I was watching Carnivále and working on my Peaseblossom socks, I goofed up a couple of times on the mitered squares. There was some profanity involved while I frogged; There is nothing more frustrating than screwing up something so simple because of the riveting subject matter that the show deals with. These are not "meeting appropriate" socks, simply because of the potential for both swearing and showing my co-workers that I rip things out.
(Ripping= not being super-amazing, like they believe me to be. It's like seeing Superman trip on his cape. Completely undignified and it just doesn't fit expectation. My readers/friends in real life know me better than that- blasts of profanity, ripping and all.)
The most awkward KIPping experience I had was when I was dating Zak- after his truck had died. I had driven him to SCVC Rehearsal, and instead of spending the whole time driving home and back, I took an aran sock that I had been DYING to start- but hadn't had the peace to get familiar with the pattern.
Memory Montage Sequence
I found a Starbucks near the corps hall, got my latté and a table, and started knitting. For about ten minutes I was grooving and in a very Zen knitting place.
A woman parks herself at my table and starts chatting with me about knitting. I was polite (but had to put down what I was working on, since it required my undivided attention at that point), but the conversation went like this:
Crazy Woman: * talking at the speed of light about how she knit while she was high because it made her head feel good*
Jasmin: * Trying to pack up without her noticing, because you don't want to make a crazy person think that you don't want to be around them. *
(45 minutes passes in this fashion)
Crazy Woman: I have to go outside and have a cigarette now or I'm going to choke you to death.
Jasmin: * Throws everything into the bag, runs to car, locks door, drives like mad to corps hall, where she pulls in just in time to pick Zak up.*
I feel that these are the same people who conform in every aspect of their lives in order not to ruffle anyone's feathers. I won't sacrifice my own comfort for the comfort of strangers, and although I have been approached by a number of crazy people when KIPping, that hasn't been enough to stop me.
I knit in the movie theater (sans the dorky/cool light-up needles). In fact, at V for Vendetta, I found that I could do all of the tricky parts of a sock in the theater. Woo! I knit through my "optional" lunch meeting, which spurs conversations of all kinds before/after the main topic of the meeting is discussed. I knit my way through high school and college, finding that it helped me concentrate on the lecture.
Why hasn't it been an issue for me? Because I can maintain eye contact, and participate in the conversation while I knit. Not normal eye contact either. The "staring contest" kind of eye contact, which is a little creepy. But the point is made, and I only do it the first time my ability to participate in a conversation while knitting is questioned.
I usually knit socks in public, since they're super-portable. However, I found that while I was watching Carnivále and working on my Peaseblossom socks, I goofed up a couple of times on the mitered squares. There was some profanity involved while I frogged; There is nothing more frustrating than screwing up something so simple because of the riveting subject matter that the show deals with. These are not "meeting appropriate" socks, simply because of the potential for both swearing and showing my co-workers that I rip things out.
(Ripping= not being super-amazing, like they believe me to be. It's like seeing Superman trip on his cape. Completely undignified and it just doesn't fit expectation. My readers/friends in real life know me better than that- blasts of profanity, ripping and all.)
The most awkward KIPping experience I had was when I was dating Zak- after his truck had died. I had driven him to SCVC Rehearsal, and instead of spending the whole time driving home and back, I took an aran sock that I had been DYING to start- but hadn't had the peace to get familiar with the pattern.
Memory Montage Sequence
I found a Starbucks near the corps hall, got my latté and a table, and started knitting. For about ten minutes I was grooving and in a very Zen knitting place.
A woman parks herself at my table and starts chatting with me about knitting. I was polite (but had to put down what I was working on, since it required my undivided attention at that point), but the conversation went like this:
Crazy Woman: * talking at the speed of light about how she knit while she was high because it made her head feel good*
Jasmin: * Trying to pack up without her noticing, because you don't want to make a crazy person think that you don't want to be around them. *
(45 minutes passes in this fashion)
Crazy Woman: I have to go outside and have a cigarette now or I'm going to choke you to death.
Jasmin: * Throws everything into the bag, runs to car, locks door, drives like mad to corps hall, where she pulls in just in time to pick Zak up.*