Dark Entries

Trying super hard to keep up my raging schedule of posting once a month. Sometimes, it’s tough.

After the high of Stitch Rock, it was back to life, back to reality. What is Soul II Soul? I digress.

Kids, they say you can’t go back. They say lots of things, let’s be honest. But I think going back to the paper was another in my long line of BAD IDEAS. All caps are necessary, don’t you know.

Not bad as in “I’m ready to jump, like I was at the job in January where I was humiliated, bullied and yelled at on a daily basis.” Nope, not that bad!

But bad in that I’m spinning my wheels. I work five hours a day. Twenty-five hours a week. At first, it was nine till two. Then, it became ten to three. Now, it’s noon to five and frankly, that sucks.

Here is a sweater I made for a college chum (I did charge her, though — I’m easy, but I’m not cheap!) to take your mind off the pain.

PicMonkey Collage

It’s called Blish (stupid name, amirite?) It’s a Norah Gaughan joint from Berroco, and it took a long damn time but was worth it. I really like it, it’s in my lover, Fisherman’s Wool by Lion Brand, and it fits her and suits her in her snow-filled climate.

Back at my day job, life continues apace. My best friend and the only one I talk to there broke his shoulder (!) and now he’s out for an indefinite period. Don’t worry, he still sends texts laced with his pain-medication ramblings, and I’ll sit at night and simultaneously knit, watch Ink Master (does this season suck, or what?) and reply to him whilst my husband works late and six days a week. Ain’t much of a life, but I’m living it.

See, here’s the thing: When I was hired, I was specifically told I wouldn’t be working with a certain person. I didn’t ask, I was told. And I was happy to hear that, because if I’d known the tide would turn and I WOULD be working with that person, I’d have taken the job at the fertilizer broker. Seriously.

She’s not a mean or bad person. She’s just a total flibbertigibbet who has her head up her arse and sends me panicked e-mails all day about things she’s told me NOTHING ABOUT, so I’m left to try to decipher the runes she throws me. Also, she smells like mothballs and has scabs all over her face, and wears weird necklaces that look like anal beads. Is it wrong that I said that?

I was at a party recently with an old friend who used to work with her and another one who currently does. My old buddy said, “Oh, just make sure to tell her how awesome she looks everyday, how whatever rag she’s wearing is the most stunning thing you’ve ever seen, and you’ll be great!”

But see, I CAN’T do that, because she is the definition of a hawt mess. Yes, I meant to spell it that way! Yesterday she had the anal beads and some psychedelic relic tunic from the rejected Grace Slick collection. Everyone told her she looked fabulous. I make an effort to look good everyday, and I get compliments from strangers, shop clerks, and people at my development. I have not once been paid a compliment by anyone I work with.

I just thought I’d mention that before I buy the anal beads necklace to try and fit in. Oh god, the search engine on this entry will blow up.

I’m going to stop bitching about work now. I applied for another job yesterday (shocking, right?). And my husband and I keep telling ourselves….One more year. One more year. One more year and we’ll move away from SoFla and do what? I don’t know. But it’s good to have a goal. We signed our lease and it runs out in January of 2016. That’s another Olympiad year! If Brazil can do it, so can we. I want to make it happen.

We are both desperately unhappy. We both need new jobs. The fact that we work at the same place (again) isn’t the negative factor you think it might be, in that one of us might as well be working on Mars for all the contact we have. Different departments, different lives. But they both suck. He works ten to twelve hour days, or more, six days a week. We barely see each other. And it didn’t used to be that way. Frankly, I blame “Ameriker,” but that’s another rant for another day and includes my thoughts about Taylor Swift, Kim K, Fifty Shades of Stupid, right wing whack jobs AND liberal idiots, and the fact fact that women wear eyeliner that looks like a Sharpie marker landed on their face. Frankly, I just don’t have the energy to go there right now.

Hey, I read a book. I read several! I am almost at my Goodreads goal of 52 for the year. That’s a book a week, but not really, because some weeks I read three and some weeks I read….none. And I confess, four of the 52 have been graphic novels, but they count, damn it, especially when three of the four are arcane growing-up-in Korea memoirs. It ain’t like I’m reading Archie and Jughead here.

This week I was delighted to get this little nugget on my Kindle.


Oh David. You are such a raconteur. I just wish you hadn’t gone on too much about your experiments in the occult and “magick,” your spelling, not mine. Not that I disapprove, I just find it all kind of silly, and once you start playing with toilet paper angels at Alan Moore’s house (as one does, I guess?) I kind of tune out. But when you are detailing the poncey idiocy and general assiness of one Mr. Peter Murphy, well, the book comes alive. I still don’t know why your guitarist from Bauhaus AND Love and Rockets, Daniel Ash, tried to beat me up with a mike stand back in 1986 in an underground cafeteria in Athens, GA, but I guess I never will. My old college boyfriend used to say “She Drives Me Crazy” by the Fine Young Cannibals was written about me. I get it. I’m difficult. Still, it was a moment, amririte? Just like the toilet paper angels, my friends. Just like the angels.

If you were a former goth girl like me, or you just love music memoirs, give this one a try. I saw Bauhaus AND Love and Rockets a combined five times in the eighties and nineties, and I’m so thankful I did. These poor kids today and their Marroon 5.

Until later!

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Work hard or die trying girl

The eighth annual Stitch Rock is in the books, and I STILL haven’t gotten my photo or shop’s photo in the Broward NewTimes recap. What gives? I have tattoos! I have funky hair! Oh, it’s crazy art teach hair, but who cares?

No, I am serious. I’ve done this for seven years and these people must hate hand knits. The photographers come by my table every year, but no photos are taken. I’m insulted!


My humble table. I had lots of stuff under the table that I pulled out as needed.

But not that much.  I had a great show – probably my best since our second show in 2009. It’s funny to watch the up and downs of the economy, what folks buy and when. I just roll with it.

This year my most popular items were my neutral hats made from Lion’s Brand Fisherman’s Wool. This is my go-to yarn. I was never a fan until my partner (she really doesn’t do the shows with me anymore, but still) got me hooked. I get it for 40 to 50% off with a coupon. It has more than 400 yards a skein. I can get two hats out of one skein. It’s economical.


My gorgeous booth neighbor Traci Moody from Bally Ding Review. She looks awesome in my vintage beret made from Florida-farmed alpaca.

As for all the other colors of my twisting vines cabled hat, I did sell a few purple and red. But you just never know. I’ve been making fiber art cuffs for years, and I hate them. It is so fiddly to sew on buttons and weave in ends. And no one has EVER bought them! Until this year. Who knew?

I only sold two shawls, and one cowl. These items weren’t as popular as they have been in past. But still and all, I’m happy. I made good money, had a good time, was upstairs for the first time ever, which really panned out. I was next to a vendor who is a friend, and her shop was so amazing it couldn’t help but bleed interest on to mine.

At the end of the day, I was exhausted and spent, but in a GOOD way. I have said it before and will say it again – I feel more satisfaction in a job well done when I do these craft shows or design work than I ever had at any nine to five job. Sorry not sorry.

I calculated, and I’ve sold around 400 items over the past seven years. I wish it was more, but can’t tell you how proud and content that makes me. No lie.


Okay, this pretty lady (She really does have great hair) bought nothing, but her handmade dress matched the skirt I made for my dummy, so I HAD to take a photo.

The bottom line is everything went smashingly. I’m proud of my work, proud of how I did, and felt a sense of freeness. I think it’s because I went it alone this time. Let me explain. Honey was there, helping with the six hauls from car to venue, venue to car. He sat with me almost all day. He made two sales for me! He even tweeted that with a #coffeeisforclosers hashtag! I gently reminded him he MIGHT get the steak knives if he was lucky.

But my partner wasn’t there. She was at a beautiful family wedding in Canada (where she’s from, incidentally). And even if she had been home, I was okay going it alone. I’ve done it at one large show before, and a very small X-mas showcase many years ago.

But I felt unburdened, and like I wasn’t responsible for anyone else’s happiness but my own. And you see, that’s the ironic thing: My friend is the most giving, loving supportive friend I’ve ever had, who never complains and always supports me. But I’m the one that felt like I was dragging her along. I was responsible for her happiness throughout the day. And that’s entirely on me. When you come from a dysfunctional/alcoholic family, that’s the way you can be hard-wired. You feel like if you can just  other folks happy, then everything will be alright.This is something I’ve carried from me since my childhood. I’m 47 years old. It’s time to stop it.


This is what I came home to after Stitch Rock. I’m lucky.

Well, I wrote all that during the last two weeks when I had nothing to do at work. But now, I do. Have stuff to do. I am only there five hours a day, and I think sometimes they forget that. I’ll get by.

But as usual, real life started to intrude. Honey’s grandpa died two days ago. He was 92 and went peacefully, but still. Then, his car broke down on Monday. It’s still in the shop, but it will be fixed by Monday.

There has been much sturm und drag around these parts, though. I’ve been driving him in to work by 8 a.m., and sitting in the cafeteria reading or knitting until I report at 10 a.m. Then I wait from 3 p.m. to whenever for him to be ready. I am a happy little clam with a book and my knitting, but it’s meant less time to do important things around the house.

So I think I’ll close there. My eyes are starting to bleed and the screen looks funny. That’s why I hate…sitting in front of a computer all day! Know this: I plan to do this for one year and then it’s time for something else. I’ll go into that more later, but I said it and I meant it.

PicMonkey Collage

Because I want to be honest – the left is one of my selfies after I’ve filtered it, and the right is the daily truth. But I’m happy being grey, so it’s okay.


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you can’t deny the obvious child.

I’m in my third week of a new job. It’s a part-time job. It’s an old job, but a new job.

I didn’t get the job I had in the spring back. No, that went to a five foot ten twentysomething with blonde hair and a trust fund background. It happens? It happens. Let’s be honest: When I worked this spring, I was just a copy editor. A dying breed, to be sure. And I was copy editing the society section. We all know how I feel about….high society. I would quote the old Groucho Marx line, but I’m sure you know it.

So now they will probably farm the copy editing work out overseas, and if that doesn’t make sense to you, welcome to the new world of publishing. It’s not the same as the old world. And as for hiring someone to keep on top of it, well, I guess a blonde from the Hamptons with a pedigree is better suited than me.

If I sound bitter, I’m not. Not exactly. I think my main problem is I wish I had been notified sooner. That the person I was in contact with was a little more honest with me. Would it have changed things? Probably not. I just don’t like subterfuge.

And if I’m being truthful, I’m not suited for the job. Not even a little. And working in that department was not fun. I felt like the victim of a good old-fashioned shunning by the popular kids at the lunch table. Or the prophet of a weird cult. Take your pick.

So, instead I’m working in advertising as a media coordinator. Which is a fancy name for ad assistant, which was my first job at the paper more than 25 years ago. What is the lesson in this? What goes around comes around? A bad penny keeps turning up? (Someone actually said that to me. No, really).

The plus side: I can’t handle more than part time right now. Not physically, or emotionally. I have two broken toes. I am finally FINALLY going to the doctor for that tomorrow. I  haven’t seen my cardiologist in three years. I’m tackling that Monday. I’m tired all the time.

I am looking at doing this job for one year. That’s as far out as I can consider anything at this point in my life. Which is scary and crazy, I know, but there it is. My goals: To save money. To pay off or at least down my debt. To figure out where I want to take my hobbies of knitting and designing. Try to get in retail? Try to publish more patterns? Do more craft shows? Who the fuck knows. I will work on this.

So, it’s okay. It really is. Why only one year? Because there is no vacation, and that’s something I can’t deal with. I consider my four month sojourn this summer my vacay, so that’s fine. But within a year of going nowhere with my husband, either give me full time or I’ll go elsewhere.

I don’t know what I want to do with this blog. Why do I say this? Because I’m ready to get off of Etsy, and want to set up my own site to do this. I could just buy my WordPress domain, and may do that. Or I might go elsewhere. But a real problem is the past eight years of content here. Although all my bitching about work has been incredible therapy, I really don’t want certain people to read it. So that may mean wiping out old posts willy nilly, or just starting over.

Believe it or not, I have started writing some essays in my spare time. I might publish them here, I haven’t decided. Or wherever I end up. They are about my relationship with music and sex and how it’s shaped my life. I honestly have less of a problem if someone I know reads about the first boy I ever gave a blow job to while Journey played on the radio than if a former co-worker saw all my vitriol.

Yes, I just typed that.

Speaking of memoirs, do what I did: Go to your library’s web site, reserve this book and read it immediately.


Judy’s book is the best I have read this year. It saved me from a summer of bad YA, that, let’s be honest, no one forced me to buy/read. I think I have a lot in common with Judy: Curly hair that is hard to control, a belief in shopping at the drugstore for a cure to what ails you, old diaries on boyfriends and organizing, a father who only bought Ford cars and a giant lazy streak. Am I not selling this? Believe me, it’s good. I read it in a night. And it made me feel BETTER about myself, because I felt like someone was telling me it was okay to be me, weirdness and all. How often can a book do that for you?

I also saw a movie that I must tell you – has changed everything. Where has this movie been all my life? Why did I not know about it? Thank you MGM Channel. You play some right shit, and I can only see Elmer Gantry so many times before my eyes glaze over, but The World of Henry Orient is EVERYTHING. And it’s about GIRLS! Teen girls! And it’s not condescending! Thank you, 1964.


294407_800This is a shit photo from the DVD case, and Peter Sellers is not the….selling point. Sorry, I hate puns. They are verbal methane. And Angela Lansbury is giving you gorgeous ’60s Pauline Trigere costuming realness, but she’s not the pull. It’s the girls.



On the left, Merrie Spaeth. She went on to become a huge mover and shaker in the Republican party propaganda machine. Remember the Swift Boat piece that was used againstJohn Kerry? She’s behind it. And says it’s one of the greatest regrets of her life.

On the right, Tippy Walker. A most fascinating case. I believe having watched The World of Henry Orient that Wes Anderson based most of Margot Tenenbaum’s character profile (and wardrobe) on her. If you go to the message boards of IMDB, she is quite prolific as a commenter on her own life.

I could write pages on them, but better I direct you to an article from the New Yorker.

Read it. Be amazed.

Will you go down the rabbit hole like I did? Who’s to say. But you should.

Here’s a clip. If you have the MGM Channel, check their web site for showtimes. You’ll be glad you did.


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Memories of us…

Honey has been out of town on a business trip. And last week, he made a long awaited trip to visit his mom and dad. We are happy to report his mother is finally out of the hospital after a monthlong stay.

We get a little lonely up in here, in our version of the Eyrie (we’re on the top floor), though thankfully I am no Lyssa Arryn, and can assure you I don’t breastfeed the cat.


One thing I am thankful for this summer has been the time spent with this guy. He is 14 now. I can’t believe it! I had him two years before I met and fell in love with honey. I don’t know how much longer we have together, and he’s slowing down a little bit. Although he still wants to eat everything in sight. But my time with him this summer has been precious, and I’ll take all the scrimping and saving and not having enough for that.


This is him when he wants what I am eating. A buttered bagel. A bowl of cereal with almond milk. A turkey sandwich. Doesn’t matter. He wants it.

I am also grateful to be vending at Stitch Rock again. Once I saw the artwork by Danny Brito, I knew I had to.

994456_818260804873680_945334871735075166_nAlthough my hair isn’t blue and pink (yet), nor do I have quite that many tattoos (okay, I only have two!), I love that she is knitting. And since I’m the only knitter there, I think it fits. There are other vendors who crochet, but not many knitters through the years. Which is one of the main reasons I did it to start with. I am experimenting with some men’s things this go-round, including skinny ties and hats.

This is the soundtrack to our summer, though we are listening to Bach now.


Oh, we listen to lots of stuff. I’ve had Bryan Ferry’s “The Bride Stripped Bare” on repeat this week. But I listen to the soundtrack to Elvira Madigan so much because it CALMS ME THE FUCK DOWN. And I need it. Love the movie too, even though it is one of my depressing Danish (Danish! Why must they all be Danish?!) flicks that honey won’t watch with me.

POP QUIZ: After honey left, do you think I queued up a French flick on Hulu? If you answered yes, you can collect $200 and pass GO.


Right now, in addition to Stitch Rock articles, I am working on this, a Norah Gaughan pattern called Blish. I am doing it in Lion Brand Fisherman’s Wool, which, with coupons, I got for under $20. It is for a friend from college who lives in the paradise known as Boone, N.C. It’s cold right now, for crying out loud! I am so jealous. I ran errands today in 100 degree heat indexed Florida sun. Thank God I wear sunscreen.

If you’re wondering  if I got my pattern in, the answer is YES. I am even receiving e-mails from the tech editor now. I pray none of them are accompanied with hysterical laughter. I feel she is much smarter than I could ever hope to be, that’s the truth. Math. Iz. Hard.

I am selling some things on Ravelry and Half.com. Back to that again! But the money is running out, and making even $45 this past few weeks is food money I desperately need. I kind of hope my Wong Kar Wai film doesn’t sell. It’s my highest priced item, I guess because it’s rare. If it does, expect to see #wongkarwaitears on my Twitter feed.


Because it’s my birthday on Sunday, I bought myself a present for under $5 today. Rimmel Kate Moss collection No.8 lipstick. Surprisingly, it doesn’t smell like cocaine and heroin-addicted rock stars. It is the perfect matte rosewood shade, pretty much matching my natural lip color. When you have bigger lips, using a color that matches your lip tone helps play them down, or if you want to play up your eyes instead, it’s a good balancing measure. Although we all know I am no Angelina Jolie, she does this I have read….

Yes, it is my birthday on Sunday, and to call it low key is an understatement. I won’t be seeing my mother. Don’t ask? My mother is going through something right now that I find very disturbing and difficult to talk about. So, I won’t. The only thing I will say is this: I had hoped my father’s passing could bring my mother, sister and I closer together. Sadly, it has done just the opposite. I’ll let you analyze that how you see fit.

Add to the fact that honey is working on Sunday, and that my former best friend and I have sort of….drifted apart, and it will be a big deal if I go to Sephora for my annual free birthday present.

Oh, one more thing: I am actually going to Cross Fit now. For the month of August, my friend and knitting partner (who will sadly be sitting out Stitch Rock this year) has given me a free Groupon to her “Box.” I have been twice. I think every muscle in my body hurts. But I plan to continue attending for the rest of August, and when I get a job again, I think I’ll keep it up.

Don’t look so shocked. But believe me, if I posted the photos of me deadlifting and looking like the Stay Puft Marshmellow Woman, you would. Look shocked.

Nowhere to go but up, right?



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Have a little sympathy for Paul Sorvino…

Today I went to the grocery store to get a few things to last me the next few days while honey is out of town. As I was standing and waiting in the checkout line, as one does, I looked at the National Enquirer’s “Worst Beach Bodies!” issue. And there in the top right corner was…Paul Sorvino. Yep, that’s right. Big, round Paul Sorvino.

Paul has always been big and round! He has the body of an Italian opera singer! Didn’t he even try his hand at the opera singing? I seem to remember that he did.

My point, and I do have one, is I would EXPECT Paul Sorvino to be a round mound of man at the beach. This is not shocking, National Enquirer! You are slipping if you think it is newsworthy.

“Older Italian Man at Beach is Hairy and Overweight”

There’s your headline, geniuses.

Hey, good news. Tom Petty, avec Heartbreakers, has a new album coming out tomorrow and I pre-ordered it from Amazon with my AmEx points credit, because I HAVE NO MONEY.

tom-petty Tom-Petty-tour-promo-608x341

I love TP like I love sleeping, kitty cats and color pink. Oops, those things don’t go together. Oh well. I love TP so much I have seen him in concert more than 10 times. That’s a lot! I love TP so much I have a concert T-shirt from the “Damn the Torpedoes” tour. When I wear it in public, I get a lot of jealous looks. Yes, beyotch, I was there when I was a mere tadpole. And I kept my shirt in good condition! (Hint: don’t over wash blacks).

I love TP so much I toured the studio (Ocean Way) where he recorded a bunch of stuff, and saw the room he worked in. There were photos of it in the She’s the One soundtrack album art. Hey, that movie blew, but the soundtrack didn’t. TP’s cover of Lucinda Williams’ “Change the Locks” is the stuff dreams are made of.

I love TP so much I once made a friend on a TP forum back in the Bravenet days (did I just date myself?). She was good friends with…Stan Lynch! And she visited me and called him on my phone, because she was going to visit him on the way back from my place. I always thought that was kind of cool. So was my friend, if memory serves.

I love TP so much I once saw him in SoFla, and then a week later I flew to Reno, Nevada to see him AGAIN. Same tour! But guess what — entirely different sets! That’s a true performer. Plus, I hung out with another friend from the Bravenet forum, who took me on a tour of the Ponderosa (yes, THAT Ponderosa, I even had a Hoss burger!) and now he’s a reporter who was on CBS’ 48 Hours, which was kind of trippy to see when I came across him channel surfing one night. I always remember him buying me noodles in the casino. He also had to drive me to a Walgreens to buy tampons, because the hotel gift shop didn’t have them. Have I said too much?

I love TP so much I have a tattoo to prove it, but you knew that. The only good thing about the past few days of my life is that Sirius FM has launched a TP channel that runs until August 4. Nothing but TP, all the time! I could die and go to heaven. And I might, while I’m driving in Florida. Today a semi couldn’t make the turn at a stoplight (where I was clearly behind the line) and almost knocked my Kia off the planet. And he honked at me, because CLEARLY, I was the one in the wrong. ASS. Then, when I exited I-95, and waited at the stoplight by the overpass, someone decided they needed to get back ON I-95 and decided to, oh, just carve himself over in my lane and almost knock me out.

But hey! It’s okay, because MY FAVORITE TP SONG was on the radio! Not “American Girl,” though that’s my tattoo. No, it was obscure-ish album cut “Shadow of a Doubt (A Complex Kid).” I love a song where part of the title is in parentheses! Word nerd alert!

I love TP so much I say that God told Florida it could do ONE THING right, and so it gave us TP. That’s it! Florida has never done anything else worthy. I’m a fucking native. Trust me on this.

The album (well, CD) will arrive from my UPS man tomorrow. I did not buy it as an iTunes MP3, because I have all my TP on vinyl or CD. I don’t trust the cloud when it comes to TP! Nope. I have lost some of my music in the cloud. Let that be a lesson to you.

And the last TP album I got was Mojo, which I got for free when I worked at Barnes and Noble in 2011. When a CD was done in the rotation (and believe me, the rotation often took MONTHS, as the Adele CD proved), we could ask/sign up to get it. And since no one ever wanted the things I did, I got Mojo. And Willie Nelson. And Robert Plant. And Air. You get the picture. Nothing anyone under the age of thirty would consider. They were fighting over that Adele CD, though!

So, TP comes tomorrow, and I am happy.

I put my sample in the mail to Knitscene today. I am not putting up photos because I don’t know that it is allowed, and even though approximately 5.5  people visit this blog a week, I figured I should be a good girl.

I went through hell at the finish line. Is it my fault for procrastinating in June? Yes. But I had a tear-soaked meltdown on Friday, and had to reknit an entire bottom cable band. Which I did on Friday night and Saturday. Then, I melted down AGAIN last night in my grafting from hell session. I finally got it and did it, but I’ve seen better. Then, I found this incredible site today, and he has a left-handed grafting video! Oh had I but seen in earlier. But better late than never, right?!

The finished product LOOKS like my original sketch. But there’s a little lumpy part at the graft (under an underarm seam). Is it very noticeable? No. But to me, it is. I was going to attach a note apologizing for said imperfection, but honey reminded me that I always tell him you shouldn’t call attention to your flaws.

So I guess I am flaunting the imperfection?

I am still in fear this will get rejected. But we’ll see. I did everything I could. I still have to write up the damned thing tomorrow, and if you saw my scribbled notes, you would laugh and point at me. This is why I haven’t posted any humble brags at Facebook yet. And probably won’t, ever.

So, wish me luck. Now that this is done, I have to get a job, and fast. I plan to find out my status in regards to returning to my temp one after my birthday, which is early August. If the answer is no, I at least want to lock down a recommendation.

I have told you how tough this summer has been for me (broken toe, hospitalized mother-in-law, no money, etc.). And it has been. It’s not getting any better. I have enough money to last me into September. That’s it. I have learned to be frugal and accept that buying stuff isn’t the path to happiness. I always sort of knew that, and I’m no hoarder or shopaholic, but there were times when I could have pulled the throttle back. I get that now.

And despite the fact that I haven’t lost a pound this summer, I have come to a truce with my appearance. I am good enough. I don’t need to compare myself to others all the time  — being home alone will help with that! But seriously. I spent my entire pre-teen and teen years feeling ugly and frankly, being TOLD I was ugly. Kids are awful, and in a way I’m glad I don’t have any, because if I did have a daughter and anyone insulted her I would kick the shit out of that person like a spider monkey on Mountain Dew, and you know it.

Maybe my workout level wasn’t what I wanted — hello, broken toe?! — but I have started using the My Fitness Pal app, and it’s helping me see where I can adjust portions. Because I am never going Paleo. I love bread like I love TP. Get it?!

So forgive all the selfies I’ve been posting. But I’ve been having fun taking photos with no makeup but a slash of lipstick and realizing at 47 (well, not QUITE yet) I look pretty good. That’s got to count for something this summer, right?



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Reading, writing and procrastinating

It’s 9:03 a.m. and I have A LOT to do today. The procrastination train keeps on rolling into the station and I have not finished my pattern or sample. I will finish the back today, and block the front and back. Then I have to figure out how I’m going to do the band. I have a few ideas. Time to figure them out!

In the meantime, I’ve been reading a lot. Almost too much? But when you consider I have approximately 200 paid for books on my e-Readers, and almost 50 in my real book tbr stack, I’m in too deep. I also keep checking out books from the library because, reasons.

I signed up to do a 52 books this year challenge, and I am actually….wait for it….ahead of schedule! I have read 32 books this year. So, there is that. It’s not generating money for me, or a 401K or insurance plan, but I am proud of it. I always say I would rather read a book than work out, and although that is not a good thing, it’s true.

I plan to return to the gym this afternoon, but only on the bike. My broken toe is still…broken, but for the first time in three weeks it is feeling a little better.

Instead of working on my pattern, I took a few days off to make a silly hat.

20140717_082049-2I mean, come on, right? A simple striped slouch. The yarn is Takhi Tweed, and I had one ball each in the opposing colors you see. I bought them online for a design submission I never did. When I found the necklace and earring set at a local thrift store, I had to have them. They are made from abalone shells. I plan to cut the beads off the pendant and sew it to the hat. The earrings are my free gift to whoever purchases this bit of pirate/deadhead goodness. That’s assuming I even get in a craft fair this fall.

I want to tell you I have been happy this summer, but it has been difficult. I have delayed on an important project which, if I had just buckled down, could have been done in June. I could have been temping this whole month. So, I am a little mad at myself. Nothing new there.

There are things going on in our lives that I don’t talk about on social media. Family stuff that gets me worried, gets me down. I worry that I will not get this job back, and will have wasted a summer on foolishness. As the days tick by, the worry grows until it is an insurmountable thing that I build up even bigger in my mind, until I am convinced that we won’t have a place to live come December.

Although these are irrational thoughts (I hope?) I can’t help them. Couple that with the fact that I have been seriously ruminating on finding my natural parents before it’s too late. I have all the info I need to fill out for the Florida Children’s Home Society to do a search. But the money is the problem. Yes, they charge. A lot. No, it is not fair or right to be part of a closed adoption in the 1960s with no recourse but to hand over cash to the state to get any info. But there it is.

And it’s tough when your money trickles down to almost nothing. The fear is terrible. I can’t afford to go to the doctor, to get my eye drops I need, and I’m afraid I won’t be able to afford my blood pressure medication. As soon as I finish and mail this project, I am going to Martin County where’s there’s a new store, Style Encore. It’s like Plato’s Closet, but for adults (not teens). I can sell a bunch of my clothes that I can’t wear and never could. We are talking price tags still on them! That should get me a week’s worth of food.

I’m selling a ton of knitting books on Ravelry. DVDs like Chungking Express (to think I am selling a Wong Kar Wai…) on Half.Com. Some clothes on EBay. I hope some of it pans out.

I am not writing about these things to sound depressing or to further sadden myself. I’m trying to relate that I’ve at least done it, managed on less this summer. I haven’t bought much of anything for myself. I stocked up on my skincare and haircare items – which are inexpensive drugstore brands anyway – before the summer started. That was smart. God bless CeraVe and Walgreens bogo special.

I have also come to the realization that I’m over Facebook, completely. I have curtailed my posting and will cut down even more in the future. Sadly, I still need it for craft fair publicity, and I do love keeping in touch with my college sisters. But I am frustrated by all the ads, by everyone posting the same memes over and over again, and by the thing a co-worker and I used to call “Assaults of positivity.” I don’t want or need your inspirational message on a picture of fucking flowers or some lady sitting at the beach. Ugh!

And I’m sick of the fitness brags, for that’s what they are. I’m so happy your workout works for you. But unless you are telling me about a fun song on your gym playlist, I don’t care. It makes me want to exercise less!

Okay, deep breath. That is enough venting. I have to shower and get to work. But I will leave with this: These are the two best movies I’ve watched this summer. The first is on Netflix streaming, the second on Amazon Prime. I highly recommend both.


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How to save money!! (well, sort of….)

I’m not going to lie to you. Much like Bananarama sang once upon a time, it’s been a cruel summer. I broke my toe. My “computer reading” glasses broke, and can’t be fixed. Our ceiling started leaking — I mean, really leaking. And it took them a week to fix it. My mother’s beloved dog is dying. My mother-in-law has been in the hospital for weeks with severe complications from diabetes and a probable mini stroke. And much like Simply Red sang, money’s too tight to mention.

So if you will forgive me that opening paragraph of doom and gloom, I want it to be known that I’m still here. Every day is a challenge. I feel a little like I’ve been under house arrest this summer. I have given my car to my husband four out of five workdays a week. The rest I am here. I have, with the exception of the two days a week I go out in cute shorts and T-shirts and sandals (three sets), worn the same three ratty ripped T-shirts and shorts (and don’t forget the forgiving yoga pants!) around the apartment all summer.

And though I have less than three weeks — I mean, a LOT less, to get my pattern and sample in the mail to Knitscene, I’m sitting here attempting to be the avatar of penny pinching. Now, THAT’S a laugh! But this is mainly for the one person who reads this. Gina, this one is for you.

I regret all the years I spent money on things I didn’t need, and never used. I am mainly talking books, DVDs, records (or CDs or MP3s, call them what you will) and clothes. It’s sad that it’s taken me being in my mid-late 40s to see the errors of my ways, but better late than never, right?

My number one tip: LIBRARY.

The library has been my one comfort this summer. I joined a reading program that gives me a free umbrella (I don’t have one. Seriously.) and free tickets to one of our minor league baseball games in August. All I have to do? Read five books. DONE.

PicMonkey Collage
The first one is a manwha (Korean manga) trilogy, so I did actually make it to five. Now, here’s the thing: If you saw the stack of books I own and have to read, and then add to it the ones I have on my Kindle AND Nook (I know. I know I had a problem.) you would realize I will never finish them all. It’s really bad.

But I’ve learned from my mistakes. Every .99 cent book I purchased just because it was……99 cents. It adds up. BUT. What I do now is go to the library, read what I have, and get free books on Friday for Nook (if they are any good) or with the Kindle First program (one book a month, at the beginning of the month — this month I got a new book by one of my favorite authors, Megan Chance. Woohoo!). I have also discovered Open Library, which once you go down THAT rabbit hole, you will never return. All the 1970s gothic romances I read to distraction? Most of them are there. Yes, they are scanned in or uploaded and translated with tons of mistakes, so it’s kind of like reading Esperanto, but I. Don’t. Care. If you have an e-reader, check it out, as Dr. Steve Brule would say!

Also good at the library? Music and videos. Here is what I picked up two days ago, along with FREE samples from Sephora.


So yeah, I’m kind of bummed that Bong Joon Ho’s Snowpiercer (a.k.a. the only movie I want to see this summer) isn’t playing, but I can watch Mother thanks to the library. Thor the Dark World was decidedly NOT good, but at least it was free? Right? Sorry, not enough Loki or sense. And I really did like the first one. As for Master and Commander….it’s a movie I’ve been wanting to see for ages, and it’s not on any streaming service. It was on BBC America the other day, but I like my movies without commercials every five minutes. I have seen so many bits of this movie, but never the whole thing. I love Peter Weir, I used to adore Paul Bettany before he started making godawful science fiction movies, and I can deal with the killer whale farting in a wind tunnel – which is how I kindly refer to Russell Crowe.

I also got Vampire Weekend’s latest from last year, some Bach and Michael Kiwanuka. You can actually upload these to your iTunes, and if that’s illegal, frankly I don’t care. When I count up all the money I’ve given to recording artists over the years, it adds up. So there. I would also stress if you have an iTunes account, get their “Free Song of the Week.” Are they all winners? NO. But I’ve gotten enough good stuff to make a really fun playlist for work. I mean, for work when I have it. I really want to work again, can you tell? You can also get the free songs (and apps) at Starbucks. And you don’t even have to buy anything!

My point is, if you want to try new music, you’d be amazed at what the library has. So far this summer I’ve checked out St. Vincent’s latest, Tegan and Sara, Lucius, The Head and the Heart, plus lots of classical. It’s a great way to take a chance on something new without forking over the money, esp. if you don’t have something like Spotify. Which I also recommend.

I think I will leave it with my LIBRARY tip today, because I covered a lot of ground. But remember: Knitting books (I never should have bought), magazines (I never should have bought, but I’ve been good with this), audiobooks (if you are so inclined) — they are all there. Never buy these things again. If you want to buy a book, I’m not saying not to. I want The French Cat for my birthday, for goodness sakes!


I just mean, save your shekels to get something you really want.

That’s all I’ve got for now. Time to stop procrastinating and watch Master and Commander while knitting furiously. I’ve given links to all the things I talked about above (just hover over the colored text), so I hope I’ve given you some usable tips from a voracious culture junkie.

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