Monday, January 31, 2005
Too Crazy To Take The Bus
I am asking, as a public service, on behalf of those of us who are still at least marginally functional: if you are too crazy to take the bus ... please, do not get on the bus.
My old van, as many of you know, has declined to participate in the great world of automotive travel of late, due to a deficiency in the water pump department and an active excess in the overheating department.
To wit, it overheats to frightening proportions on a journey as short as 4km (2.5 miles for those of our friends who have not yet embraced the metric system).
I'm not much interested in being blown up, and I have nothing whatsoever in the way of extra funds seeing our friends at Revenue Canada have decided that my money is, in fact THEIR money and they can boof my paycheque right up the butt any time they like. They refer to this as garnishment, however I have seen no parsley to speak of.
Therefore, for the time being and for the foreseeable future, I am going to be at the mercy of the public transit system.
This is not a bad thing. We have good buses. It takes me 19 minutes to get to work.
However, two days ago I was on the bus and this small troll-like lady was on one of the seats behind the driver. There was a vacant seat beside her, and a nice young international-student-type person sat down beside her. I guess this young lady accidentally touched the troll, who whipped around with frightening speed and screeched "DON'T TOUCH ME". The nice young lady who had sat down beside her said that she was sorry and that she hadn't meant to touch her. She was obviously distressed. The troll then screeched "I know, but DON'T TOUCH ME AGAIN".
I mean WTF? To each their own psychoses, but if you're going to take public transit, you're going to get people touching you. It's the way it works.
So, to all of you loonies out there, if you're too fucking special or crazy to let someone else accidentally touch you ... STAY OFF THE BUS. OK?
Next time you pull that shit I'm gonna walk up and lick your face. Warts and all.
Friday, January 28, 2005
The Eerie Canal
I survived the trip to the dentist today! To the wonderful, frabjous, eminently humpable Dr. T. who told me that I MIGHT HAVE A CLENCHING PROBLEM (no, not my butt) INSTEAD OF A DISEASED TOOTH and that WE DIDN'T HAVE TO DO A ROOT CANAL TODAY and that we could wait and see if the problem came back.
Dr. T. was in no way humpable before he told me this. However now, he da man. I shall even forgive him for freezing, burning and then thumping on various teeth (before attacking them with a steel hook) just to see if they were "sensitive". Let's see how sensitive YOUR teeth are after being whapped with a ball-peen hammer, SIR!
Gee, wonder why I'm clenching my teeth in my sleep. *insert Church Lady Mode Here* Could it beeee ... stress?
Yeah, ya think?
He Who Takes Up Too Much Room actually put the laundry in the dryer today. After I had washed it. Granted he didn't put on another load but you take what you can get. If anyone's out and about in Greater Vancouver this weekend, I'll be the chick wearing the bathtowel, seeing nothing else is clean.
Try not to stare too much, mmmkay?
Thursday, January 27, 2005
Instead of putting my response in the comments section, I thought I'd do it here.
Ann: Nope, not gonna sue him. He thought it was ok. Now he knows it isn't, and he's avoiding invading my personal space bigtime. Some men are trainable. Some.
Snowball: It is Doritos and Dr. Pepper. I can take anything but the Dr. Pepper. And the insane dental bills. Yeah, those too. And ... well ... you know most of the list ...
Freddy: But I LIKE Cheetos! And no, he doesn't remember to do the laundry. Ever. I had just asked him to do so that day and he "forgot". For the second time this week.
Anon: I like making stuff and that yarn was never intended for me anyhow. I bought it for me to make something fun. It's the making I like, not the wearing. Besides, I'd look skanky in this. After it's done I'm gonna look for something nice to make with the Rowan Magpie I scooped off eBay. Just for me. ALL MINE.
This is the grey and the dark grey. The two skeins of lambswool are going to Ann.
This, startlingly enough, is the black. You could tell by the blackness that it was black, couldn't you?
Yeah. Me too.
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
One of Those Days
Today was one of those days. The kind of day that starts off poorly and soon falls away. The kind of day when people should stay the fuck out of my face.
Yes. One of those.
The highlight of the day at work was when one of our faculty decided that it would be ok to slap me on the ass. It was in jest, it was in passing, it was with either a handful of paper or a file folder. It was taken poorly and the man got yelled at across the hall that if he tried that shit again we would be down at the Sexual Harassment Advisor's office.
He apologized profusely, however this doesn't alter the fact that he had so little respect for me that he would do this.
The worst part was that being a South Park fan, all I could think of afterwards was The Sexual Harassment Panda. This somehow made it worse, as it's almost impossible to retain your dignity and keep a good mad going while giggling like a loon. Fortunately my abuser had left the building before the giggling commenced.
I then went to class, did miserably (fortunately the exam isn't until Monday) and then came home to find that the useless lump to whom I am bonded in hellish matrimony had decided that it would be all right to feed my daughter Doritos for dinner instead of food.
Oh yes, and he forgot to do the laundry.
Needless to say, my list of Those Who Will Be Up Against The Wall, Come The Revolution (or next Tuesday) is getting longer.
There was, however, one ray of light on my miserable horizon. This light was cast by the fact that I won some beautiful yarn over at Chéz Harlot.
I won three balls of "Moonlight Mohair" from the wonderful people over at Lion Brand Yarns. The prize offered was in "Tundra" but when they wrote to ask my shipping info they asked if I would like a different colour, so I chose "Rainbow Falls" instead.
I mean how cool is that?
So I have decided that in honour of this magnificent giftage, I shall spare the lives of three of the people on The List. One for each ball of yarn.
Pray that your name is one of the ones being erased.
I also managed to experience some knitting, which went a ways toward alleviating my fury. Behold:
Yes, a scarf, or at least the start of one, made in my yummy birthday yarn. I should be finished it in a day or two and get it to the designated recipient.
In the meantime, I'm gonna be sharpening my pointy sticks ...
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
OK, so my cat has a case of the terminal cutes. This is how I started my day:
I didn't get any knitting done at all today, however I got this:
Four blankets made from scratch by a former classmate of my husband's, plus one blanket put together by a little old lady from previously-donated squares.
Later in the evening I got this:
Five whole blankets plus 300+ squares all made by grade 7 - 12 girls at a local private school.
All of the above are for the charity thingie I work on. About 18 blankets' worth. Not a bad day's haul.
Some days it's worth chewing through the restraints.
Monday, January 24, 2005
This ~is~ supposed to be a knit blog, after all. Isn't it? Sort of?
First, for your viewing pleasure, proof that I've been doing things other than dishcloths. Viola, as the French say. Half of Sophie. I'm assuming I'll get her finished and felted some time this year.
Next, my stupid, stupid friend tells me that she has gotten herself pregnant yet again. Actually no, what makes it even worse is that SHE did not get herself pregnant again. Her stupid, stupid boyfriend did.
The stupid boyfriend she's known for three months and lived with for about two and a half months ...
Anyhow, despite their intense stupidness (they're happy about the event, I'm the only one who thinks that they're complete ASSES) I am going to make something for the baby. I would like to make the following, with a matching pair of pants:
It may well be safer to assume I'm going to make a repeat of this, seeing I already know how to do it.
Who wants to bet I'm gonna try to get adventurous?
Sunday, January 23, 2005
So I'm now going to start getting serious about my stash reduction. Yes, I know, buying another five balls of yarn the other night doesn't indicate any such intention but ... well ... shut up. It was my birthday and according to many people that doesn't count at all. I didn't get even a fucking e-card from my hubby; I can get yarn for a scarf.
And yes, my life IS as pathetic as it seems. Thank you for noticing.
I am now making a sincere commitment to complete One Hundred Things before I buy one more INCH of yarn. As I have an overweening yarn lust this will be difficult.
So far the items completed are:
One Green Dishcloth. Recipient: me.
One Beige Dishcloth. Recipient: B at work.
Two variegated dishcloths and one blue one: recipient B at work
one "quick knit scarf": recipient (or thief) my daughter
That makes six. Somehow I thought I'd done more but no. Six. That's it.
94 to go ...
Weep for me, darlings
Saturday, January 22, 2005
For all of you perverts out there, S.E.X. stands for Stash Enhancement eXperience and has nothing to do with fornication. However, in the interest of remaining firmly in the land of Too Much Information, no, I didn't get lucky on my birthday. Then again, considering the state of things Chéz Lapin, I'm not entirely sure how fortunate that event would actually have been.
Enough of that! On with the merriment.
My birthday itself was ... well ... ass. I got an e-card from my friend Mica and another one from someone else I love. No card from hubby, but he did take me to dinner at McDonald's! (try to contain your jealousy) and then I got to work a graveyard shift.
I bought a bunch of stuff for Eleanor (yes, I know it wasn't her birthday) and two pairs of shoes for me and then on the well-documented basis that yarn purchases Do Not Count on your birthday, I bought myself this:
The Bernat Boa is just their usual fun fur stuff, but I've never seen the "Matrix" before. It is a ladder yarn, very similar to Eros, but costing about 1/3 of the rather frightening price. I'm going to knit them together into a scarf and then give it away.
And, of course, deduct it from the "100 things" list even though the yarn wasn't included in the original inventory.
On the graveyard shift last night I completed a dishcloth (yes, I'm getting bored with them also) for a friend to whom I'm sending a care package, so I think that makes five of the "hundred things" complete now. I'll count 'em up tomorrow and make some plans.
For now, I'm running off to another graveyard shift. Don'cha just wish you were me?
Friday, January 21, 2005
Justified and Ancient
They're justified and they're ancient
And they like to roam the land
They're justified and they're ancient
I hope you understand
They don't want to upset the apple cart
And they don't want to cause any harm
But if you don't like what they're going to do
You better not stop them cause they're coming through
- "Justified and Ancient", The KLF
I'm 43. Get outta my way.
I gots crow's feet.
Happy birthday to me. Everyone who missed out joining the conga line when I finished up my pity party, hop in on this one. We'll be going for a while.
Thursday, January 20, 2005
The first suspect:
The second suspect:
Please note that Suspect #2 is wearing the scarf she stole from me as a belt.
Clearly, I have a house full of criminals. There may even be some sort of conspiracy going on here.
Goat Cheese Bastardy
Ok, I'll admit I'm a ho for stats. Statcounter is my friend.
I do this bloggery thing for me, but it's always nice to know folks are listening.
One of the fun features of Statcounter is that you can see what word strings people enter into various search engines to find your blog. The usual searches involve "rabbitch", various knitting searches and, for some obscure reason, "skinnychicks". Today I find that I got a hit for "Goat Cheese Bastardy".
I was unaware that I had used these three words in a post at any point, however it's not particularly unusual that in my ravings such a combination should occur.
I don't know whether I should be worried or heartened that there is someone out there searching for it ...
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
In A Frenzy Of Delight
I started the day in the best way possible, waking up snuggled next to her Miniscule Majesty and with another hour to go before the alarm went off.
Things pretty much went downhill from there, starting with a visit to the dentist during which I discovered that The Root of All Evil happens to reside in my mouth. It is scheduled to be removed next Friday, the 28th. Oh yes, and it's infected. Whee!
I then waded through the insane deluge to get to work, crammed onto a bus full of people all smelling like wet dog (it's utterly POURING here, as can be seen on just about any picture at www.van.net) and spent the rest of the day trying to clear at least a little of the two-foot-thick covering of papers from my desk.
The miseries of the day faded, however, the minute I got home. Waiting on my desk was THIS little bundle of vintagey goodness:
It's from Winter 1946-47 and, for those who can't read the writing, it's edited BY THE OUTSTANDING DESIGNER GIZI!!!
La certainly oudid herself in giftly magnificence -- thank you!
This excllently-preserved magazine starts out by wisely stating "Any woman who invests precious time, money and labor in handwork should be helped in every way to achieve the finest possible results." Did you hear that, husband dear?
"HELPED IN EVERY WAY"
What a wise, wise woman wrote those words, oh those many years ago.
THAT INCLUDES CLEANING THE KITCHEN, ASSBUCKET
Unfortunately, the person or persons unknown who chose the patterns and advertisements for the rest of the magazine may have been perchance a little less wise.
I present my first exhibit in support of the above argument:
Standing for quality? The only place I'm gonna be standing in an outfit like that will be up against the wall, come the revolution.
Some of their pattern suggestions are useful, though. For instance, this would be very helpful for anyone who didn't know exactly what to wear to go and investigate the strange noises in the unlit basement ...
And what new mother wouldn't be delighted by a blanket made entirely of breadrolls?
I believe the most beautiful and mysterious creation in the entire book is the following item. Just what in the purple screaming fuck ~are~ those things on her hat? Microphones? Tiny little trumpet mutes? Maracas? Jump rope handles? Or perhaps an entire disassembled clarinet ...
The "crowning glory", so to speak, of any collection is the bridal outfit, and yet again this noble publication does not fail to satisfy. The following is crocheted out of "Hiawatha Super Glo Plastic Corde Art. 56" and I must say it makes me wish I was single so I could get married All Over Again!
I do think that fewer people will have to die at work tomorrow, because of this gift.
Sunday, January 16, 2005
Pity Party Over
OK, my pity party is over -- thank you to everyone who responded (and Rebecca, mah dear, the reason I didn't email you is that I don't have your address). I spent the day doing laundry, cleaning the kitchen (whee!) and knitting on Sophie. I've got further to go than I thought, but for a chick who's never knitted in the round and who has also never picked up stitches, I'm pretty happy with how it's turning out.
I love this wool. It's the hand-spun "icelandic lopi" that I got at the Puyallup Fair in September. I'm pretty sure there's enough here for two bags.
Enough moping. Everybody conga!
Saturday, January 15, 2005
Happy Freakin' Birthday
Please, if you will, allow me a brief whine.
My birthday is January 21st. That's next Friday for anyone who doesn't do math. There is still time to mail me a present, please email me for the address.
My parental units are performers. No, not trained monkeys. At this point I would prefer that. Anyhow, because of this they have never been available on my birthday. I've been known to "celebrate" on January 12, some time in February or even into March.
They're older now and don't have as many engagements, however I'm now very busy myself, and will be working a graveyard shift on both the 21st and 22nd.
We chose tonight to go out to dinner. My parents, after rejecting several places I like eating and suggesting several that make me want to gouge my own eyes out rather than have to eat there ever again, agreed that we would all go out for fish and chips. This was not quite the steak, glass of wine, liddle music scenario I had hoped for but fine, it meant my daughter could come with us.
My mother called at 2pm to see if we could go earlier (no, Mother, I do not eat before 5pm. I seldom eat before 8) and then finally called to cancel, 28 minutes before they were due to pick us up, because of "the snow".
Here is a picture of my front yard. Yes, it is dark. Observe the amount of snow falling. Can't see any? Yeah. Me either.
But allegedly the voices told her (to be fair, she was either listening to the radio or watching TV, but it's funnier to just call them "the voices") that there would be two to four inches of snow tonight, and she wanted to avoid getting stranded.
It is now an hour past when we were supposed to go out. Not one flake of snow has yet fallen. And now, at the advanced age of almost-43, I get to feel like the little kid who doesn't get a birthday.
Friday, January 14, 2005
Note To Child
Putting lip gloss on the cat's back, even if it's grape-flavoured lip gloss, will not help her skin condition.
And the sparkles just make her look cheap.
Good intentions (everyone should look pretty). Bad veterinary training. What the hell are they teaching children in daycare these days anyhow?
I have discovered that there seem to be a lot of knitbloggers up in my neck of the woods, which brings me joy through my ridiculous dental pain. Apart from the previously-mentioned Marlene, and of course Knitting and Beer I have discovered Fidgety Budgie. Or perhaps she has discovered me. Either way.
There are two or three more that I know of and if I could just frigging well THINK I would add them. I think I'm gonna get me a Vancouver Knitbloggers' list on my sidebar once I get my face in order.
Thursday, January 13, 2005
Hurts So Good
Not good at all in fact. Not one little bit.
I have a confession. I have dentophobia. Like the kind where you shake and sweat during cleanings and really can't think of anything more horrifying, up to and including giving birth, than going into the dentist's office.
I have also been gifted with fairly poor teeth. Small teeth, thin enamel, etc. etc. Imagine how joyous a combination this may be. Imagine how many hoops I have jumped through trying to pretend that this screaming-almost-passing-out-pain in my face that throbs with every heartbeat is just oh, nothing.
Not buying it? Me either. It's not as bad as it was but it's still vile. I'll be seeing the dentist on Tuesday unless it gets worse and then I'll be in tomorrow.
In the meantime, I would like to extend my eternal thanks to whoever discovered ibuprofen.
Enough whiny self-indulgence; on to greater things.
Here, dear hearts, in all its completely-undistinguished glory, is ...
... Sophie, part one.
I'm a-feared of dpns and cables, however I have no fear whatsoever of felting, having destroyed at least one sweater in the wash in my illustrious past.
I'm almost finished the base, hoping to pick up the stitches and start the sides before I go to bed tonight.
I'll keep y'all posted.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Magic Glowing Bunnie Balls
I have no knitting content (apart from a sneak peek at the beginnings of Sophie, and one more completed dishcloth, but I can't think that would be all that exciting), and so instead I shall tell you about my Magic Glowing Bunnie Balls.
What's that, you say? You've wanted some of these for years?
I have too, I just didn't know it until a friend of mine sent me a set. These are the Best. Things. Ever.
The photo doesn't even begin to capture their fabulous glowy goodness.
When I opened the package I thought "hmm, that's nice, someone thinks I'm weird enough to want some of these." Then I plugged them in.
We go to sleep by their light every night. In fact, I think that's what I'm going to go and do right now.
I do believe I shall be eternally grateful that the lurkers support me in email ...
Saturday, January 08, 2005
These Are A Few of My Favourite Things
And, as always, quite a few things that are just ass.
Today's post is long on pictures and short on prose. I moved three cabinets into my work area tonight and finally unpacked most of my patterns. Here are a few highlights.
Firstly, three sweaters I absolutely love. I intend to make at least one of these this year. For ME, even.
Yeah, I'm gonna haul out the cable needles and just get over it, already. I would also really like to look like either Lady #1 or #2, if there are any plastic surgeons listening out there.
And, of course (we never disappoint!) here are a few things that I really don't think anyone should make.
First up is a charming outfit guaranteed to make anyone at all look like they have no figure whatsoever. I was unaware that there had ever been a trend toward knitting things to look like badly-dyed tensor bandages. The title says it all.
Next on the block is ... well ... I think it speaks for itself. Unfortunately, the baby couldn't, which is why he is wearing this. I wonder how much the therapy cost when he grew up.
I have no idea why someone would get tanked enough to wear a crocheted tablecloth on her head and then allow the photograph to be published. Yes, I remember the pictures of me in that hat I posted a couple of days ago. Shut up. I think I have a smaller readership than this particular manufacturer does. No, I won't tell you who it is; they are still in business and I don't want to get sued.
It bothers me a little that my husband liked this hat so much. I like the one on the left quite a bit. He liked the version on the right.
I was unaware that there were actual outfits you could make specifically in which to give birth. Who'd a thunk it?
And it would seem that this special little lopsided heavy-as-a-sack-of-fuck dress is so magical that if you put it on your kid, she will learn to levitate.
Last but not least, we now have some scientific evidence of why boys grow up to be serial killers. Here is one such young man with the arm of one of his earliest victims ...
Heh. I think I've amused myself at others' expense quite enough for one evening, don't you?
Friday, January 07, 2005
Not What I Asked Santa For
I'm all for presents. I'm all about the presents, really. And I like surprises. Surprises are good.
My cat gave me a late Christmas present tonight. She's had fleas and then she had a bad reaction to the stuff we put on her to kill the fleas, so the poor old thing is all scabby and losing her hair. She really is thorougly disgusting at this point; she looks like she has mange.
And no, I don't have a photo.
She has to go to the vet this weekend which is, as you can imagine, JUST what I had hoped to spend my money on. So much for a new water pump for the car. I shall continue to pretend I like riding the bus.
Anyhow, it would seem that the hair-falling-out and then cat-licking-it-up portion of the program isn't working very well for anyone. Specially not for the cat.
Tonight she was sitting on my desk and yakked. BUCKETS of catyak. All over my keyboard. I think she may have gotten the mouse also. For all I know, in the quantity of yak she produced, there may well have been hidden a real mouse. I didn't take the time to inspect it all that closely.
She got the mouse pad, the chair, the keyboard tray. Imagine my joy.
Suffice it to say that I was really glad that hubby and I are such geeks that we have multiple computer parts lying about all over the place, and I had a replacement keyboard to plug in.
I suppose I'm a bad blogger 'cause I didn't take a picture of the thoroughly-yakked-on keyboard before it went in the garbage, but aren't you all secretly glad of my negligence right about now?
I wish you all a kinder, gentler day than the one that Sasha and I are experiencing.
Well, I've sold four dishcloths, AND I've finished one of them, which makes four FOs ... another 96 to go and I can buy more yarn! (and another $3 for Doctors Without Borders. $6 if you count the matching donation from the government).
I sorted a bunch of stuff tonight in preparation for one of the 800 lovely little old ladies who are helping me with this charity blanket thingie coming over tomorrow night to pick up squares to sew together (she says she'll take enough squares for three blankets -- I love these ladies!) and I'm beginning to suspect that I will in fact have to make more than 100 "things", or at least some more substantial things than dishcloths before I can justify any more purchases. A lot of the yarn I have here is donated stuff for Blankets and that's all going out the door sooner or later to our eager knitters, however an absolute assload of it is mine, and really, a dishcloth only takes 50 grams.
That means that a pound of cotton makes ten dishcloths (and yes, I know that I'm switching from metric to imperial. I'm Canadian. We do that if we're old). I can hardly justify using up three or four pounds of yarn out of the several hundred balls I have here (it has to be that much, I'm scared to find out the actual weight) before I buy more.
I'm sending Ann the Rowan Lambswool that I have and am going to count that as one item but really, two small skeins doesn't make that much difference, does it?
I'm gonna be on a yarn diet for the rest of the year, methinks.
Thursday, January 06, 2005
Well, I've sold my first three dishcloths for Doctors Without Borders. Unfortunately I mentioned it to a friend who bought those three before I actually had any COMPLETED so now I have to knit like a bitch.
Truly, how else could I knit? Ask yourself that.
I was hesitating to put a notice on the web board at work because the first time I did so I sold 25 in a week. That time the money was for my family and fortunately I had almost all of them done. When you're screaming broke $75 buys a lot of groceries!
Anyhow, I figured that I might be overwhelmed with orders if I put up a note that I was doing this for charity, so I think I'm still going to wait for a week or so, but I'm not working this weekend so I should be able to get quite a few done. (Not working, as most moms know, means that I'm staying at home, doing 6 loads of laundry, cooking 4-5 meals, cleaning the bathroom, vacuuming, changing the beds, playing Barbie for hours and unpacking 10 boxes. No, not working at all.) Hopefully I'll also find my hot water bottle. It's cold here.
Thank dog for Addi Turbos. They really have made my completion time a lot faster (and they're all pretty and SHINY). Now I just have to learn how to hold my yarn like a grownup and REALLY get some speed up. It seems that the way I hold my needles is called "crotch knitting", although I swear that my crotch isn't involved in any manner!
Any tips (with pix and/or video clips) on how to do this would be appreciated seeing my Mom doesn't know how to do it "properly" either ...
Anyhow, even if I only sell those three dishcloths, that's $9, and I do believe that the Canadian government (such as it is) is matching donations, so that would be $18. If even only 10% of the people in Canada did that we'd have what, $45 million?
That seems like a good start.
Weapons of Mass Communication
I am starting to become very, very afraid at work. I think there may well be some sort of giant technological conspiracy designed to make me look like a dolt.
Well, thank you very much, Computer Services, however I can look like a moron all on my own. No, rilly. it's very kind of you but I don't need your help. You can stop now. Your work here is done.
Part of my job is to take and then transcribe minutes of meetings. The sheer number of these meetings and the volume of the minutes are clearly part of an even larger conspiracy. "Job Description" my wobbly white ass. But I'll deal with THAT conspiracy all in good time.
No, this particular conspiracy has to do with the laptops upon which I take the minutes for these meetings.
I'm old, I admit it. I'm so old I can even take shorthand, however I choose not to, because there is pretty much no reason to do so. Also because it's been so long since I've used my shorthand with any sort of regularity that although I can WRITE it, well, reading it is another matter entirely. My translations are creative enough that "voting system" could easily become "vaulting sister" which, as anyone can see, would change the entire flavour of the record of these gatherings of great import and endless fascination.
Therefore I use a laptop. Or at least I try to.
A few months ago I noticed that the old laptop that they had assigned to my department was starting to act up. This machine was so old that nobody else on campus would use it, seeing the only thing it was good for was taking notes on a version of MS Word that has since been replaced by at least five or six upgrades. By "act up" I mean that it would take six tries to fire it up and maybe four tries to save my document. Being as how these documents are anywhere from three to eleven pages, this made me somewhat nervous. The last time I used it, it did something wonky to the diskette and I was unable to read it on either of the desktop machines in the office. Finally, in frustration, I set it up on top of the filing cabinet and, after some effort, managed to open the document. I then spent an amusing hour (amusing to observers; to me, not so much) reading a few words from the machine on top of the cabinet and then leaping through the office to transfer it by hand, word by painful word, to the computer on my desk.
After this festive but time-consuming exercise, I declined to use this machine any longer and consigned it to whatever interesting scrap heap they have out back of Audio Visual Services.
I have since just phoned AV every time I have had to attend a meeting and have requested one of the laptops from their inventory. This request has always been met promptly and courteously.
I have never once heard them snicker as I trot off, trustingly, to my meeting. But I'm pretty sure the snickering has been happening.
They're usually fine, however about four meetings ago they gave me a machine that had no log-in instructions, but which seemed to be password-protected in some manner. It took me until about 1/3 of the way through the meeting to figure it out, during which time I was scribbling notes while hopefully banging on keys like a (badly) trained monkey.
I admit to having the urge to fling poo more than once during this "logging on" exercise.
The next machine was just fine, which lulled me into a sense of false security.
The one AFTER that, however, had no word processing software on it. Not even Notepad or WordPad or anything along those lines. Nothing, nada. Seems that the person who had used it before me thought that "it might run faster without so many programs on it" and had deleted anything she didn't need at that point in time. They're still trying to track her down. I've just managed to finish translating my notes.
The one today took the cake. I went to the meeting, typed the minutes, popped in the disk to save it and was greeted with a "whirr whirr whirr" and then the friendly message that the disk in Drive A was unreadable and may not be formatted. I wasn't interested in trying to reformat a disk with other documents on it, so I saved the minutes to the hard drive and then removed my disk from the machine.
At which point the machine removed the slide from my disk.
I scuttled back down to AV and pleaded with them to make things right again. They removed the slide from the drive and then put in one of their disks. I was gratified when they were met with the same "whirr whirr" and told that their IBM-formatted disk wasn't formatted. They tried to format it and then were informed that they couldn't. They then had to get an external drive and when they tried to put that same disk (theirs) in the drive they were informed that there was something or other wrong with it. What the the message was, I don't know. I suspect it was something along the lines of "rabid weasels would not be able to force me to read this disk, so just lick me".
I'm convinced these machines have attitude.
Anyhow, they finally managed to get today's minutes onto a diskette and gave me that, along with the wreckage of my first disk. Whether I'll be able to recover the information on that, who knows?
I really think I should just start attending these meetings, doodling Betty Boop in my notepad while they drone on, and then going back to my computer in the office to create some sort of work of fiction to explain how they spent the noon hour ...
It certainly couldn't be more bizarre than the way things actually work around there.
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
Gimme That Thang
I'm pretty sure not this thang.
maybe it's not THAT bad
middle-aged rasta style
kill me now
A friend sent me this hat. I think for Christmas. I'm not sure.
I had always assumed that she liked me but now it's sort of hard to tell. I think she might have made it herself, so I can't really ask her if it's a joke. The colours are beautiful, the yarn is incredibly warm, but, as you can see, the fit is somewhat ... inaccurate.
So, do I hope I can felt it? Only wear it when I go out at night and it's ten below or colder? Give it to the cat?
Well, I've been sitting here trying to think of how I can help the folks who have lost everything. I can't do a lot financially; we're in dire straits right now, what with a sick car, a garnishment by our friends at Revenue Canada and a backlog of unpaid daycare bills ... in fact I've been getting all Jesus and wearing sandals without socks even when it's frosty, so the cash is obviously in sort of short supply.
It's not hopless (hop!), the garnishment should be stayed once I send in proof of my evil finances and I have a great mechanic who works for far less than he should be getting (don't tell him!), and I found my boots so my tootsies won't freeze, and my kid is too cute to be evicted from daycare, but still ...
Anyhow, I had an epiphany. Or an idea at least. I have to make 100 things before I can buy more yarn. (I also have to make more money before I can buy more yarn but that's beside the point.) Many of the things that I am making are dishcloths because I have a plethora of cotton from the days when Save On Foods was getting out of the yarn business and was selling them for like 57 cents a ball. That's 47 cents for those of you playing with real money (USD). They're fast, they're easy, they're popular. They're also in demand at all three of my jobs. I've given a lot away but I've also been able to sell quite a few at $3 a pop.
So ... I'm a-gonna make dishcloths all month until my little paws fall off and sell 'em at work, donating all of the proceeds to Doctors Without Borders. I figure if I make like even 33, that's $100 and according to The Yarn Harlot the Canadian gummint is matching donations to that worthy cause.
She's having a fantastic contest, btw, and seeing everyone (but two) of the people who read this are more than capable of making their own dishcloths, you might want to toddle over to her blog and join in. If you make a donation to Doctors Without Borders and then email her about it, she'll add you to a drawing for some fantastic Latvian Mittens. If you've seen her work, you'll know that they are a heck of a lot more desirable than my loppy cotton dishcloths.
As I am not donating any of MY money at this point, but merely making people give me THEIR money so I can donate it and make myself feel better, I'm not going to be rude enough to toss my name in the hat. If anyone is wack enough to want to be in her contest AND have a skanky Rabbitch-knit dishcloth, though, send me a note that you've donated and an address and a wonky lopsided dishcloth will be yours!
OK, I feel better now.
Saturday, January 01, 2005
Happy New Year everyone! I got part way through my "Quick Knit" scarf and it was commandeered by Her Miniscule Majesty. The bad thing is that I don't have a new scarf. The good thing is that this was finished in half of the estimated time, due to the diminished length.
Hard to see the colours here. Trust me, it's pretty.
I worked the graveyard shift last night and spent half the night reading about the tsunami and crying and the other half of the night trying to help people find their loved ones who had gone missing right here in Vancouver.
It was a rough night. I was glad to have some beauty.
And now, on to the next ... DISHCLOTH! *cackle* (or maybe I'll tackle cables one day soon ...)