My Family is Strange: an outsider's perspective

By not going home for Thanksgiving (mom, I hope you've forgiven me), I got to enjoy not one, but three, T-day dinners with assorted friends and friends' families. Everyone makes excuses for their families, I've noticed. I've also noticed that everyone's family is their own, unique brand of crazy. In every case, that crazy is lovable. The sort of madness that, as a daughter, drives me to fits but is oh-so-delightful to witness as an outsider.

There are fights, there is the tipsy auntie, there are cat hairs in the mashed potatoes. Dad retreating to the sofa halfway through dinner, awkward conversations with strangers, children picking their noses before grabbing at the olive tray. Teasing and back-talk. Grace, when even my atheist self feels weepy and soulful (or maybe that was the booze). The displaced feeling that 400 miles away my own family was doing this without me.

I enjoy other people's families in a way that makes me appreciate my own more. By being an observer, not an actor, there's all of the fun and none of the stress. I appreciate having so many loving friends who bring me into their fold and treat me like their flesh and blood.

I tend to loathe the holidays, having to put on a good face and act sentimental. This year, here's hoping the acting won't be necessary.

Burlingame - the Fifth Circle of Hell

Love the bay area. Love. Burlingame? Not so much. Seems to be a city constructed entirely of hotels, and B-grade chain restaurants (elephant bar? I thought they went out of business 10 years ago! El Torito? El fucking Torito?!).

Surreality abounds this weekend, and to top it all off I rushed from friends' house to the airport and shut my eyes for justaminnit and woke up at SFO. And now...trapped in Burlingame. Forget Escape from New York; I'm busting out of this hellhole, asap.

Send candy. Or coconuts. Whichever.

Knitting Surgery - Making a short piece longer

Knitting Surgery – Part 1

So…my Rogue hoodie is too short. Not too short to fit on my body, but short enough that it hits me someplace unflattering. Like somewhere between my knees and my navel. Rather than be glum about this, I have chosen to see this as an opportunity to take scissors to my knitting OF MY OWN ACCORD. This is big, people.

This particular knitting surgery happens in three parts: cutting the knitting apart, knitting one piece to an appropriate length, and reattaching the two parts together. Here, for your edification, is Part 1: Cutting the Stitches.

First, you will need to locate the section in the garment you are going to lengthen. For my Rogue, this will be in the section after the waist decreases, where the pattern indicates you can repeat the short cable repeat ad nauseum until the piece is an appropriate length. Me? Did not repeat ad nauseum enough. For my little brown swatch, it’s somewhere in the middle.

Secure the stitches above and below the row you will cut apart on. I inserted two needles from right to left into the right-hand side of the loops on the knit side.

If you turn the knitting over at this point, you will see that there are two rows of purl bumps between the needles, both snug up against the needles. This is how you can be sure you have just one row selected to be cut.

This step is not for the faint of heart. Take the scissors to your knitting. Go ahead.

To make things faster, you can snip to within 2 inches of the end of the row, and just pull out all of the little purl curls that result.

Then you can unravel the sections near the ends by pulling on the purl loops one by one and unthreading the center row.

You will end up with two separated pieces of knitting with live stitches at their ends. You’re ready to attach yarn and knit upwards on the bottom piece and then graft the two together with kitchener stitch (Steps 2 and 3)!

Spam - not just for breakfast anymore

We have a series of heavily-armored firewalls at work, but some spam still manages to sneak through. More and more lately, I get that fun spam that's just random words, or what seem like poorly translated text. Today's is, by far, my favorite:

Subject: object staff neat-handedly

From: Al Cooper [akstcalphaomegamnsdgs@alphaomega.com]

Because with such an husband, her misery was considered certain. After sitting a few minutes longer without saying much to anybody, went away.



Sparing prose, inventive use of articles; five stars!

When will this woman shut up?

I was honored to receive the Connor Byestewa Jr. Award for excellence in environmental management this week. I received this award for performing the most mind-numbing of tasks while maintaining my sanity and good humor.

I promptly gave the most lame acceptance speech ever, which I apparently slept through, as every photo of the speech features me with eyes closed.

What a wiener. I mean winner.