Success stories of today

I got yarn!! And it is apparently baby approved!

I decided on blues and yellows for the Project Linus blankie. Oh, and obviously white. That's what the big thing in the center is. No, not the baby, the huge cone of yarn. Casting on as soon as I finish posting... Hope it doesn't suck. If you really want to know, those colors are: Sea Mist, Faded Denim, Light Blue, Yellow, and Daisy Ombre. Walmart only had three colors in cones, white, cream and something called peppercorn ombre or some such thing, which I didn't really like at all. And they did not have the double worsted I was hoping for, so worsted it is, sorry about the extra work, Swan. But, at $1.27 per ball, I spent much less than twenty bones and am quite happy with myself.

I also managed to kitchener stitch today. I actually enjoy kitchener stitch, and it is all thanks to the wonderful woman in the videos at KnittingHelp.com. She has no idea how many times she has explained kitchener to me, and it never comes out right without her. And no, I have no intention of ever memorizing how to do it because she might miss me if I never came to see her again. But I always feel like I did something hard when it's done. Huh. Want to know what I kitchenered? Well, have a look at this:

Handles. On my purple felted monster. All it needs now is a little weaving in, a run through the wash, drying, and voila, finished project. I wonder who it's for? I didn't really intend to keep it for me when I started... but it has kinda grown on me, even though the purple is a bit garish. But I designed this thing myself and I have grown fond of it. Maybe I'll keep it. Maybe the next person who whines "make me something!" will get it. I don't know. But it's cute, no?

So, today, I win. Yaaaaayy!

love from the Dragon, who wins.

The attraction of charity

Oddly enough, as much as I say fuck this silly world, I am feeling a need to do something for it. There is some wee child in a Social Services mess right now who needs a blankie. Swan and I have, for the past few months, been considering making just such a blankie for just such a kiddie. Project Linus would be happy to get this blankie, and I think we just don't know where to start, so Swan, I am just going to jump right in and start it. I'll just go get some of that cotton we've been discussing, make a few photocopies of log cabin instructions, and away we go. Provided it is washable, because I don't yet know.
Just tell me if the stuff from the link is the same as the stuff you get at Walmart, because I don't want to venture into a Walmart if I don't have to. I think all Walmarts are contagious. Why can't they have yarn at Target, where everything smells sanitized? I digress... I will shop on Thursday, only day off this week, get you some gauge to work with, and cast on. Then, the shipping...
I wonder if USPS has a deal for us, since we are knitting for charity? I wonder if we can write this off on our taxes, including the shipping costs? Hmmm... I know someone who may know something about the legalities (is that a word?) of that, don't you, Mrs. Swan?
With your go-ahead, I will take my ten dollars to the discount store.

Swan: Wal-Mart does have one of them (Sugar & Cream or Peaches & Cream) but I forget which. Our nearest den of filth Wal Mart has 1 lb. cones (!!!) for $6 and change. Not a bad idea either. I do hope this turns out better than the hats...

Be warned

I have received a request to post a bit of Vicodin induced haze. I am not sure this is a great idea, but here goes.

I had the surgery/biopsy on Thursday past, and was given a prescription for Vicodin. Now, it didn't even occur to me until the night before (when my mother mentioned it) that I would get a painkiller. I haven't yet determined if this was a good thing or not that I didn't realize it.

With some reluctance I took one Thursday night, after I had spent the day sleeping of the anesthetic. I was worried. I had taken painkillers before for fun, but what would it be like "for real"? Would my past experience come back and haunt me? Would I suddenly become that (crazy fucked up) person again? Worse, would I not enjoy the feeling?

For the past few months, I have been thinking a lot about identity. Partly because of hearing from ignatz42 again, and partly because it finally dawned on me that I have the life I wanted for years--and I didn't realize it. I doesn't even sound real when I describe it; Dragon says its something from a guided meditation. "Imagine yourself outside a small cottage in New England. There is a pond in front of you, where swans swim all day. You're sitting in the shade, knitting, with your drop spindle and raw wool nearby." I see her point.

The words are not coming out how I want them to, here, even after two cups of coffee. I'm not sure why popping a few Vicodin, even just for legitimate pain relief after a tender-spot surgery would make me think that I would relive the worst year of my life (2000) and suddenly become an erratic, pleasure seeking, self-destructive slave to altered states (or any state not the standard one).

I don't know. I just had to write it down somewhere.

Hmmm. The fear of recurring addiction. I'd have more to say about that if I didn't think it was possible that my parents were looking...
You do have legitimate pain, so a painkiller is the prescribed answer. If you are really bothered by this, maybe you talk to your doctor about non-habit-forming meds? Not that at this late date it is going to make a big difference, but in the event that you ever need such medication again? That is my advice.
And you aren't exactly the guy from A Mllion Little Pieces, you know. You can be bigger than this. Stronger. You lived with me for a while, I know you have inner strength.
~ Dragon

Rock Star to Rock Star

Henry,

Have you noticed that when knitters suck, they blame the pattern? "Oh, Stitch N Bitch, blah blah blah," with no recognition of their own incompetence.

Take my knitter, for example. She dragged me from the depths of the unfinished bin today, where I've been hanging out. Half-done slippers, and a mountain of crappy acryllic atop me fror the last year, and she finally feels guilty and digs me out for a picture. A picture. Yeah, she bitches about the pattern being written for flat instead of in the round (like she could have managed four stitches on dpns), but come on. How hard is it, really? Each pieces is like 4 inches square. How lame.

Dude, just hang in there. She'll quit making excuses after a while. Maybe you'll even get finished. Not like me, man. She's just going to dump me back in the bin.

Yours,
Joey

Dear Joey,

Sucks to be you, man. Good luck getting a head. Still barely a torso, myself. At least you have one leg to kick some ass with.

And I refuse to believe that four stitches on DPNs is an unmasterable skill. I just can't get behind that.

Henry

Just when you think you have won...

Henry Rollins comes along and kicks your ass.

I cast on, among other things, the beginnings of the Henry Rollins Doll from Stitch n Bitch Nation. As I learned with Pixie, I made sure to read and re-read the instructions before starting the project, even though finding the appropriate colors of Tahki Cotton Classic has been an ongoing project since time began. I think this may be my new albatross project. Huh, maybe we start at the beginning...

I saw all over the web these rock star dolls everyone had made using the basic pattern laid out in SnBN, so I figured it must be a decent pattern, well-written and simplified to be accessible to any knitter. Not to mention, Yoshi loves Henry Rollins, and needs something soft to throw when his job pisses him off. I put the project on my Dream Shopping List that I carried with me on Swan's and my road trip to Asheville, NC. Great trip, btw. I looked everywhere we went for the colors I wanted; that's about 7 yarn shops in three days, including the ones along the way there and back. When I got back home, still without Henry Rollins yarn, I set out to the LYS and tried there. No one had every color I wanted, let alone two of the three. I did go ahead and acquire the black, thinking that the next time I order from someone online, I would fill the supply list out. That was March, y'all. This is almost July. I finally got the rest of the yarn I needed,and decided that I would pretend my Size 6 DPNs were really straights (point protectors, lovey.) just because I couldn't bear the thought of having to make one more shopping trip (no straight 6s in the needle stash) to start this project. The skeins were a mess when they arrived; Yoshi spent multiple hours untangling them just so we could get them onto the ball winder. They each had to be re-wound twice so the ball wouldn't look like absolute doody. Then, the instructions.

If you have ever read these, you know that there are instructions for 3 different dolls in the book. And if you have ever gone to the errata page, you know there is no official errata in the pattern that the publishers will post. However, when I read on many different online forums how much trouble everyone had had, I decided that while reading out the pattern, I would re-write it in my own knitter-ese, and that way I would be golden when it came to making the damn thing, no mistakes possible what with all the for Joan Jett doll, do this, and for everything else, do this, and if you are trying to knit this thing, I pity you removed so I only do what I am supposed to do. So, with book, internet, pen in hand and my personal notebook, I set out to re-write and have clear understanding. It took me 5 hours to figure out what the pattern was really trying to get me to do, with the posts online about "when it says this, does it mean this or that?" and the general knowledge I have in my head about the way sticks and string mate, and the way a pattern is written, or should be written.

If I were the designer, I'd sue. The book has made so many little loops around where you should go to make each different doll, and it is not easy to figure out where to pick up again if you need to skip something, and why on earth is it not done in the round in the first place? It's a DOLL, a series of tubes for legs, arms, torso, etc, right? Why all this seaming? Seaming sucks! Go on, try and figure out how to do the head. I dare you. If one looks at the negative space in the book, it would only take, maybe, another half-page to write out each individual doll, so there's no pain in the ass crap going on. The supply list is on 2 DIFFERENT PAGES. WTF I say?!!?

WTF, indeed.

So, now, Henry is on the needles, and there is no way I am letting him beat me. I may just write my own pattern. In the round. He's basically a tiny sweater with legs and a head attached, right? How hard can that be?

I know, famous last words, eh? Fuck.

Swan: This, I am afraid, is why Joey Ramone is still in pieces at my house.

Pink ribbons

Tomorrow, my co-author to this blog has a biopsy on her right nipple. I haven't heard a definite time for the scheduled procedure, but I'd like to take a moment to send her a kind thought or two, and I hope anyone reading this will do the same.

I love you, my Swan. I know you ar worried and scared, and I hope you know I am thinking about you and wishing you the best. As is anyone else reading, unless they are a cold and heartless bitch of a person who probably has all the depth of a SnoCone.

I do not pray. If there is anyone reading who does, please send a little prayer Swan's way. If you don't pray, just send her some hope and strength, and let her know she is cared for. This woman is an invaluable lifeline to me, and I love her too much to tell you all, so just know, if it was your best friend, I'd do it for you. Please take a moment to comment here so she can get a big get well card when she reads this, whether you know her or not.

From the Dragon, who worries and cares

PS A little support to Mr Swan for being good to her is a nice thing, as well. Let's not forget him; he loves her just as much as I do. Thanks. ~D

Swan: Thanks guys. I came over here this morning just to read a little Dragon. I just wanted a smile at hearining her voice in my head before I started to freak out. And then, this. I...don't have good words for how much better I feel after reading it, just thanks.
Dreaming of ice cream,
Swan

Gotta love it

Go ahead and try not to love this child.
Introducing Walter, my roomie's 8 1/2 month old daughter. No, her name is not really Walter. She just looked so much like a little old man when she was a few months younger that I started telling people her name is Walter. I get such a kick out of this child almost every day, and I thought I'd share with everyone. Well, with Cyn. Because no one else is reading this.

She's so punk rock, isn't she?

Every part of my day pretty much sucked until I got home and found Walter with a mohawk in my email.

Right around Christmas Wlater's mother and I were in the malls shopping our little hearts out, and some woman stopped me to say how cute the kid is. She asked her name and I of course told her it was Walter. She made a face like she didn't know what to say, obviously she didn't want to offend me by saying Walter? Are you out of your mind? So she said "That's... unusual." I handled her in typical Dragon style. Messed with her head a bit for my own amusement then pointed out that she was being extremely gullible (not so politely, I'm sure). Since I'll never see her again, I think it's okay to make fun of her now.

So, enjoy Walter's picture. I sure as hell did.

Uh oh.

I am almost finished with the giant purple felted thing. I am barely into the sweater for Yoshi (need at least 18" of body, got about 2"), and the littler stuff is languishing. And I fear I am.... Bored.

Too much mindless stockinette in the round (worse than flat stockinette for the sake of being interesting) has got me aching for something else. Maybe cables? Do I cast on the lace scarf I have been wanting to try since Christmas when Yoshi got me a Shadow Sampler from Knitpicks, as well as three lace scarf patterns on which to cut my teeth? Another pair of freaking socks (with cables or lace or some shit?)?!?

Or do I do the unthinkable and try again to finally... chart the Intarsia Dragon?

Okay, I found this article in on knitty.com about charting my own design. It all works out okay for me until Step #6, where the alleged "pencil tool" is used to draw lines for the graph, the layer the graph over the picture, and voila, graphed design. I think I must be retarded, because I cannot get the pencil to do what I want it to do in any way, and this layering thing has me completely baffled. Am I going daft or is there something missing in the instructions or am I simply inept or what? I am more inclined to believe that I am inept... I'm lucky I can turn on my computer most days without talking dirty to it first. So, I challenge anyone willing to let Photoshop suck the will to live out of them, try this out and tell me if it's just me. I'm talking to you, Cyn.

The dragon will go on a handbag I am very excited about. Or, I may chart out something abit more, how shall I put this without giving away the recipient's name, Swan-like for a special someone who always needs another bag in which to tote her crap.

Help! I suck and I can't get up!

Highly Mobile Dragon

I got the car back!!

acceptance speech to follow:

I'd like to thank Yoshi for fronting the cash to make this day possible, and for all the rides while we struggled through this rough time of immobility. I'd have never made it without you. Thanks to Swan for the long-distance support, you're the greatest. To Jenn and Brian, my roomies, who drove me around and refused to accept gas money, and lent Yoshi and me a car when it rained, genuine appreciation to you both. And to Mom and Dad who got really worried and tried to make me take their money (again) to help out, thanks for understanding that I just can't take your money. And to all the mechanics at Holler Honda, you guys rule!!

YAYYYY!! I GOT THE CAR BACK!!! NO MORE MOTORCYCLE IN THE RAIN!!

Not that I ever had to ride on the back of the motorcycle in the rain; we borrowed Jenn's car. But I was not really looking forward to its inevitability.

But here's a shot of Yoshi in his rain suit. Mom and Dad will be comforted by this thought about the picture: Any man willing to look like the StayPuft Marshmallow Man got radiated into orange hell in order to maintain the hightest level of visibility in the rain will take very good care of their daughter.

And it kept him dry, too. It's much poofier (not a real word) in real life.

Oh, sweet relief.

Swan: I have seen the man in the suit. You must believe that the man in the suit look like the StayPuft Marshmallow Man got radiated into orange hell. The man in the suit is

boobboobboobboobboob

I really have been wanting to post here more often. Really. No, I mean it. And its not just that I'm a slacker of momentous proportions (though that does come into play), its more that I've been a bit...fixated. On my boob.

Yeah, that explains everything, doesn't it? Its a good thing that not many read this blog yet, or I'd have to say something like "stop reading here if you're squeamish."

My boob (Righty, if you want to know) is sick. Lots and lots of folks have been poking at her, and a few more have given her the squinty eye. (And I'm not even talking about the guys I dated.) Words like "cancer" have come up (a lot, and more frequently now) and just so you know, that's freaked me out a bit. I have a biopsy scheduled for next week, and they're going to lop off the end of her. I've been trying to figure out what to write about in this space here, and finally decided that I just had to get it out of my system. Post and be done, you know? Move on.

So, here's what not to say to someone who's scared shitless and stuck in that awful waiting zone: "Don't worry, everything will be ok." The sister phrase, "everything happens for a reason," ain't so hot either.

What do you say? That's a damn fine question. This is what Dragon had to say:

So, you don't want to hear that everything is going to be okay? Fine. Nothing is ever going to be okay. Really. It's not, you know, because life isn't like that. It's never, ever ever okay. There are always problems, issues, items of redress. When is it going to be okay? When will we stop grieving over every life we've led only to have to kill or hide that person we became, when will we have no more bills to pay, when will the ozone layer stop depleting?!? When will we be comfortable with ourselves, our mates, our friends? When will there stop being too much of everything and not enough of anything? So, everything is not going to be okay, Cyn, but the not okay of now will someday become the not okay of yesterday. And that has to be good enough.

Seriously. Write that down somewhere. Put it in your address book, stick it in with your stationary, even if its just the last two lines. Because the person who's freaking their shit out needs to hear it. Way more than they need to hear that ______ (insert deity) has a special plan for them. And while you're at it? Tell 'em to quit talking so much about themselves.

~Swan

Dragon: Don't worry, dear. Everything will never be okay, but we'll at least be together. *barf* And I'm glad you got some of that out; it's been festering a while, and I know you have more, so please: at my insistence, feel free to rant at a random stranger today. Just pick anyone off the street and start yelling. Enjoy.

And now for something completely different

I've noticed I've been a bit whiny lately. So let's talk knitting, shall we?

My first sweater is finished up. Well, the knitting is finished up, in any case. I still need to seam it. i made To Dye For out of SnB, in Blueberry Suri Dream from KnitPicks (wonderful stuff), and the seaming is a bit daunting. I have read in too many places that a good finishing job is essential to a decent sweater, and also that seaming is a sucky task. So, I have put it off for, oh, about a month or two. My justifications are many:

1. I live in Florida. What do I need with an alpaca sweater in June? It can wait.
2. There's so much else to do. Working on a giant purple felted monster bag right now, as well as Skully (same book) in the largest size possible for Yoshi (I think it was sized for women, not sure), I spend a good bit of time trying to post to the blog, keep up with housework, spend time with Yoshi, and let's not forget the job. And I am thinking of casting on Yoshi's Christmas stocking today, so there will be ball winding, swatching, etc. Not to mention a few other small things I have in the works.
3. I am nervous that I will suck at it, or that it will suck my will to live. I believe I read in one of Yarn Harlot's books that no one ever says "I just took up seaming, and it is so much fun!"

So, here is the sweater, which Yoshi dubbed Cookie Monster. Actually, when I finished the front and back and put them together and threw them over my head (Mexican serape-style), he said I looked like Clint Eastwood trying to look like the Cookie Monster.

I appologize for the fuzziness, the pic was taken with my camera phone. I am borrowing my roommate's digi cam for recent shots, as I can't run out and get my own camera right now, and she's off somewhere, so there you have it. And don't let the clever placement fool you, those sleeves are not yet attached.

The only thing I could think when I saw this all spread out on the bed was "It almost covers the bed. It would only take me three months to make a bedspread." Aren't I ambitious?.

Swan: Ambitious? Possibly crazy. But I don't blame you for not wanting to seam up the cookie monster. That's a lot of blue fuzz. (Why did that sound dirty?)

Biting the proverbial bullet

I have decided to go back into debt.

Anyone paying attention knows that I recently declared bankruptcy and am currently out a car due to the sucker falling apart on me. At the behest of my lovely Yoshi, we have decided that the best course of action is for me to borrow some of the repair payment from him and get the poor girl fixed back up, then paid back off, no matter the cost, for many reasons:

1. Yoshi rides a motorcycle. We live in Florida. It is now hurricane season. Do the math.
2. I still need a car. It is too heartbreaking for me (typically uber-independent) to keep bumming rides everywhere I need to go.
3. I love that car. I love its style, its history, the way I feel safe in it. Love.
4. We need a way to get to the grocery store and haul back a gallon of milk. No go on the bike.
5. I need another place to store yarn, and the trunk of the Prelude is really spacious.

So, let's let out a sigh of resignation that I am just not going to have any money for a bit. And a grand apology to Swan. I now cannot afford to come visit New England. I am so sorry.

As an act of supreme retribution to her, I'd like to feature this picture of a lovely hat:

It's Pixie from Amy Singer's book, Knit Wit. I did it with Cascade 220 and Gedifra TechnoHair, and double knitting with fuzzy fluffy yarn is only for those supremely dedicated to looking this stupid and charming at the same time, let me tell you. I had so many issues with the hat (mostly because I refused to read the directions thoroughly, mucho froggissimo) that the Swan was compelled to compose a haiku:

Techno Hair vexes--
curses leap like grasshoppers;
tangle like corn silk

So there you have it.

And I refuse to ever reveal what the wretched drunken post said, no matter how you torture me. Feel satisfied with this one telling word I recall reading over and over: Hootchiemama. And that's all you get.

DON'T DRINK AND POST

I have just learned the dangers of drinking and posting. i wrote out a whole post, and had to delete the whole thing because i realized i was just stupid.

SO, don't drink and post!!

As a rule, I really don't drink. Rough night at work and too much stress let me think: I can have one. or two. And let me tell you, 2 is enough! Let alone 3.

The simple fact of typos is enough. OK, I am done. Don't drink and post!

Sleepy. So sleepy.

Swans in love

I don' think anyone is reading this, but if you are, please wish Mr and Mrs Swan a very happy 3rd anniversary. And send them cash. Or yarn. Or yarn storage. Or knitting notions. Because that's what they want. No, really. Thank you.

And enjoy this lovely celebration of their lovely love.
aren' they gorgeous?

Happy Anniversary, kids. I hope we are all as lucky as you someday.

I knew I wasn't alone!!

Thanks, Swannyswanswan. I am so glad you made it to our party.

Yes, we are throwing ourselves a little party on this blog, and we are our own guests of honor. HAH!

And ain't she adorable? I love that swanny chick. Welcome, welcome home.

Cyn, the word for you is dynamic. You are changeable for most any situation. It's a survival instinct. Because I say so. You aren't a contradiction to anyone who knows you; not that you are predictable, either, but you are reliable in that you can change the plan to suit the fucked up situation I got us into. Or you got you into. Adaptability is a survival skill, and anyone who doesn't agree has never worked somewhere where a policy changed and the one jackass who couldn't take it got canned.

I will never can you.

Still waiting to hear fro the trustee about the car. My lawyer is hopeful. Still crazy about Yoshi. Making him a sweater. Yes, in June in Florida. Bite me, you naysayers!!

And one more special thanks to Cyn for getting the last picture I posted into the blog. I don't know why I couldn't do it, or how you did, but thanks. I was a cute 4 year old, eh?

my turn?

Oh, God, I have to introduce myself.

I've avoided it long enough. The "I'll post some time this week" phase was lovely, and I will miss it so. "Oh, I'll post tomorrow" wasn't so bad, and bought be a bit of time. Now, though, I've passed into the "Yes I promised I'd post last week...and yesterday...and pretty much everyday, but I mean it now. I really do." Its time for me to get off the pot and post.

I just don't know what to say.

This blog, this forum? venue? is supposed to be very real. Its not like my other blog isn't real, its just that its...edited. Not too much personal stuff, and probably more than a little whining. No whining allowed around here. Why? 'Cause Lisa Dragon will smack the crap out of you, that's why.

This is a good thing, though. It keeps me on my toes, and all too often is the sanity check that I most desperately need. Sad, isn't it? I guess this is what is making this post so frickin hard.

The basics are easy: I'm enough into my 30s that I'm getting a clue, but no so far that I'm any kind of comfortable with it. I'm married to a guy that's damn awesome, but often pisses me off so bad I wish I was a violent woman. I'm in grad school to be a librarian, but as much as I like the job, I hate the classes. As much as I want children, the merest suggestion of it makes me want to wet my pants in fear. I'm not going to say something cheesy like "I'm a contradiction" or some such. Maybe something like "I rearrange the puzzle pieces of my perception a buch." Not too bad.

Feel free to start with the crap slappin' Ms. Dragon.

And now it's up to meme

Cygnet tagged me, the crazy little critter. I asked for it. Literally, I asked her to tag me. She's the Swan who will be posting here soon, I am promised, but here's the meme:

5 things in my fridge:

1. Baby teething rings. I live with an eight-month-old little princess. How her mother talked me into it, I have no idea.
2. Espresso chip ice cream.
3. Duck sauce in tiny packets.
4. Belgian cream puffs.
5. Smoked salmon for Yoshi's bagels.

5 items in my closet

1. My motorcycle jacket.
2. A magenta sweater I bought at the Portobello Road street market in London, summer of 04. I destroyed it in the laundry, but will not part with it.
3. A picture of my brother and I, aged about 6 and 4 respectively, riding my father's back as if he were our horsey, with very big, happy, screamy mouths on both of us.
4. Several pairs of slutty shoes I haven't worn in years.
5. Notes for a book I wanted to write when I was twelve years old.

5 items in my purse

1. Two pairs of sunglasses
2. 58 cents
3. A tiny notepad for writing down everything I can't remember. (but not one single pen)
4. A tiny jar full of many different kinds of vitamins, Motrin, Dayquil, Midol and glucosamine chondroitin.
5. A movie ticket from "V for Vendetta" And yes, Cyn, I only saw it the one time.

5 items in my car (and this just makes me sad, because we still don't know if car is coming home. But I know what's in it, so here goes)

1. CDs. David Bowie, White Stripes, Violent Femmes to name a few
2. Three of Yoshi's old leather jackets that he, um, outgrew. He's in love, of course he gained a few pounds. They were to go to the Goodwill, but were temporarily deterred.
3. Jumper cables
4. Lots of trash. Starbucks cups and Marlboro Lights boxes, mostly.
5. My cell phone charger.

And as for 5 people I want to tag, well I don't know anyone else who may be reading this, so if you are not Cyn, consider yourself tagged and deal with it accordingly.

And in case you were curious:

When I screw up...

When I screw up, I do not half ass the job, let me tell you.

I have royally messed up my life several times, and picked up all the pieces to put them back together again, only to tear them down about two years later. It's like a little ritual I have with myself. Oddly enough, the chaos is almost comforting in its cyclical form.

So, what did I do this time?

Well, I had to declare bankruptcy after one hell of a sorry assed divorce. I just couldn't handle all the debt on my own; consolidation was no help, and I had to do it. In the middle of all the legalities, it turns out my car was worth too much, and I would have to pay a trustee a certain amount in order to keep it. And I love this car; it is a 98 Prelude, in a very stylish silver, and it was bought for me brand new by a wonderful person I may talk about someday. I am the only owner this car ever had, and she was my baby. Love. Love for the car. So, I was going to pay to keep her. The trustee was nice enough to allow me to set up some monthly payments to keep my car, while he held the title to be returned when I paid it off. So, the car promptly died.

She stalls out in low idle. It could be any number of problems, and with my luck, it is the most expensive problem there could possibly be, what ever that may be. So, can I afford to put a pile of cash into an eight year old car that is only going to depreciate further? Not really, no. So I am thinking that if the law allows, and the trustee is willing, I may have to let my baby go. It is simply not practical to keep her, when I could be investing my money into something a bit newer and a bit more reliable. I already had to drop a new radiator into her this year, rebuild the header, new water pump, all kinds of stuff. She burst a main hose in her cooling system and overheated in the middle of a construction zone, so I couldn't just stop, and I killed many things under her hood that day, about three months ago. And now this. This mess.

No, I don't feel that the car betrayed me. She is still just a car. But she has been a part of me for a good long time, and I am loathe to see her go. Many wonderful things happened in that car. I am so dreading the loss of her. So, tomorrow I hear from the mechanics and get my estimate. If she costs too much to fix, I have to see if I can let her be collected. I hate being a grown up and having to deal with all these stupid hard things. I will be sure to take pictures of her before she goes, and not to cry too loudly when I see her leave. Here's hoping that it doesn't come to that.

Love from the Sad, Immobile Dragon

And now I am immortal...

There is a knitting superstition that if a knitter finishes all of her projects (let's not worry about the gender specifications, I am not playing the dumbass his or her game; can we assume I am talking about me?), she will die. If a knitter dies unexpectedly in the middle of a project, someone who loves her will have to finish it because the piece will call her back from the grave or some such nonsense. But, I am going to address the first silly belief I mentioned, because Cyn gets real nervous when I tell her I finished something else without casting on something new.

I hate the process of casting on. Now, before anyone starts to bully me with positive-thinking bullshit about the start of a new day and endless possibilities and the magic of my craft, hear me out. Then shove it, because I hate that shit. Why must it be that no one will accept that I feel a certain way about casting on? It isn't the project itself, or that I am intimidated or afraid of commitment to another scarf when the last one hurt me so bad; it is barely emotional at all, unless you count the frustration. I hate the motion, the process, the stupid counting and double counting and the long-tail cast on with its possibilty of wasted yardage, or awkward acrobatic yarn manipulation if I measure out too much tail or too little. And God forbid, waaay too little and I have to cast 160 little fuckers back onto the needle I just ripped them off of. Now, before you go saying "try another cast on method", just keep in mind that I am not a complete moron, and may have done that. I hate the funny twistedness of knitting on, and to general hell with purling on. Cable cast-on? Fuck that shit, too. Same dumbass motion. Crochet, you say? How have you made it this far without me slapping you silly? Shut up and accept it, I hate to cast on.

Oh, once I get going, I am utterly enamored of my work, but it's the starting.

So, what happens is, I have no such issue with binding off. I can bind off like it's nobody's business. So, I don't put it off or avoid it or have to take an entire mental health day off work just to bind off. Like I do for casting on. And this is why the Swan entertains a lovely and charming little paranoia (if not a tiny hope; she will get all my stash, after all) concerning my death.

So, Cyn, rest easy. I spent several hours yesterday CASTING ON. I also worked a couple rows of each thing so I wouldn't tempt the superstition that states that a project stopped in the cast on row will never be completed. I started the bag for felting, a doll for Yoshi, and a sweater for Yoshi. I will start the Christmas stockings for Yoshi and me in the next few days, as my needles finally came (yayy!), as well as another felted bag. Oh, and the Chinese dragon bag? Got that yarn in the mail, too. So, do not fret. I will live forever now. I can never die.