I'm currently sitting under a hairdryer as I type this. Yes, under. I'm one the floor in my living room, planted under the home version of the bonnet hair dryers you see at beauty shops. I'm not sure why my mom still even owns this thing, or how she was able to put up with this once a week.

Why am I sitting here under something that looks like a bizarre popcorn maker? Mostly, because I'm a sucker for a good theme party.

Tonight is Elena's You-So-Nasty Pajama Party. When she and I went shopping for suitable attire last weekend, I found an awesome red corset at Charlotte Russe (aka "the cheap whore store" ) and voila, an outfit idea was born.

I decided to go a bit retro, with loads of pearls (yes, I did just spell it purls and have to change it) and victory rolls in my hair. Then I got the nutty idea that, since I was in dire need of a dye job, I'd go ahead and tackle that while I was at it. And maybe I could kill two birds with one stone (straightening, then recurling the ends) by simply putting it on rollers and sitting under this contraption.

I had forgotten what a pain in the ass it is to put rollers in one's hair. I'm getting much quicker at dyeing my hair though. It always seems to take a while because I never just dye it one color (it looks like doll hair when I do.)

After this, all that's left to do is put on my attire and find that damn black slip, the one that I have been tripping over until I decided I needed it.

I thought about year-in-review posting, but thought better of it. Maybe tomorrow, when the only thing on my to-do list is taking down the christmas tree.

Lovely. Some has apparently pissed off the neighborhood skunk. AGAIN.

I've gotten quite a bit of baking done today. First there were the brownies, then the blondies:


Then it was almond creme cake. I realized I didn't have toothpicks to check doneness, so I had to improvise:



I put in the last of the molasses cookies a couple of hours ago. I noticed notmartha's recipe the other day and, since I happened to have all of the ingredients (and was not leaving my house for anything at all,) decided to make them this year. They make me think of Carmen, who made the best ones I've ever had:


I also held up my family tradition of eating pizza and watching movies. Since it's been too snowy to even think about calling for pizza, I made a few pizzas here-- the best ones I've made yet-- and we all (me, E, CJ and Alicia) watched "Santa with Muscles," a mid-90s Hulk Hogan vehicle made back when Hulk Hogan was still trying to prove two things:

a) that he was a serious actor
b) that he still had hair

Seriously, that shit was hilarious. It might have to go in the repetoire of "so bad it's funny" Christmas movies.

Now all that's left is to wrap a couple of presents for Eric, then go to bed before Santa shows up.

Word Vomit

this week
hit by truck/stranded on the highway/18 hours to get home/car is probably totalled/bumps and bruises and broken glass that I was still picking out of my hair the next day/thank god we're both okay/did the truck that hit us have insurance? We're still not sure

it's been snowing a lot/nobody up here knows how to drive in the snow/I grew up in Hawaii and even I know how to drive in the snow/The truck is sandbagged and I don't give a shit how mcuh you tailgate me I'm not fucking speeding up

We've been sick since we got home from vacation/my brother sneezed in my face and made me ill/the dog is sick too/he's been rather smelly and kind of miserable/and had an accident on Monday/Eric almost puked/I'm glad he didn't-there would have been two messes

Wednesday was my birthday/the dog was still sick/there's nothing like cleaning up semi-liquid dog poo at 6:30 in the morning on your birthday/the highlight was the nap I took that evening

Still cold/still snowy/Closing the shop early/after the big scary boss stopped by and hung out for a bit/atleast the other people got out early/I had to stay and do paperwork/this is not supposed to be my job today/I know it's my bad mood but they can pretty much suck it/ but first my tooth chipped/woohoo time to schedule dentist appointment and get my teeth pulled or drilled or canaled or whatever the hell it is they do/the chipped spot feels huge and I can't stop messing with it/

today i came home and cried and ruined two loaves of bread

I'm tired of things getting broken and sick and screwed up/I think if the truck slides one more time in the snow I'm going to drive it into the side of a building/ i just want my dog to get better/and me to get better/and life to get better/i kind of don't give a shit that christmas is a week away/cause i really just feel like crap inside and out

really, i just want to hibernate until this month is over.

It's finally, thankfully here.

As a million other blogs have already mentioned, today is election day and so it all begins.

I've been away from the internets for a little while now, as I've been avoiding most media ever since I sealed my ballot a few days ago. I didn't have a chance to turn it in until yesterday (where, to my suprise, I got an "I Voted" sticker! I totally wasn't expecting that!) but once it was in its envelope I was officially done-- with the constant shitty political ads, the constant debate, the constant white noise of "us against them" that has permeated our lives for far too long.

As today loomed closer, people both here and abroad became more and more crazy. We all started to resemble dogs, biting at eachother out of so many fears. Fear of the unkown and uncertain future. Fear of having to confront our own prejudices, both racial and otherwise. Fear of people in distant towns who seem to be against everything we stand for. Fear that the person standing in front of us in the grocery store might make a decision that could potentially take away our rights, our money, the very way of life we've become accustomed to. Fear of the oh-so-ominous "THEM" --the real americans, the city elitists, the republicans, the democrats, the millions of people that don't know us but probably hate us anyway.

Mostly though, I think the thing this country has feared the most is change. Don't get me wrong, we're craving it, wanting it so bad we can taste it. But deep down, most of us know that change in any form is a difficult, painful process. And, unfortunately, "change" is an incredibly ambiguous and open-ended word.

I'm not sure if it's cynicism or optimism, but ultimately I'm not afraid of the future. No matter who's elected, some things are going to change, but frankly, I think quite a few things are going to stay the same, in both a good and bad way. And after surviving one of the worst presidents this country has ever seen, not even John McCain and Sarah Palin can scare me, so tomorrow will not be the day to start moving to Canada, regardless of the outcome.

I keep remembering an old episode of Sports Night that centered around Napoleon's Battleplan. (Think Waterloo, not Dynamite.)

According to Aaron Sorkin, it consisted of this:
First, we show up.
Then, we see what happens.

I am not one of the super-passionate, one of the fervent and almost obssessive supporters this election seems to be spawning on both sides. I am simply someone who believes one candidate is more qualified and a better choice than the other. I have made that better choice. I have, in effect, shown up.

....so now all we can do is see what happens.

I got muy knitting mojo back, but not before I made the uber-cool printed t-shirt corset from Alabama Stitch Book.

I still plan to sew a whole lot, but not before I finish the Buttony Sweater. All that's left is button bands, and although they intimidate me I plan to KICK THEIR ASS!

I think this is just about the longest I've gone without knitting a stitch in years. Eight days and counting. I'm growing rather concerned.

I have, however, been obsessively deconstructing t-shirts and messing with fabrics, so maybe there's hope for me yet.

I'll save most of the Sarah Palin rants for the people who write them better than I do, but my disgust first kicked in when I heard some Republican analyst explain that part of the reason they chose her was to pull in some of the women that would have voted for Hillary.

...'cause us womenfolk are so simple-minded, we'll vote for anyone just as long as they have a vagina.

I did however contemplate writing a letter, if I only knew the address---


Dear GOP,

You and your pro-torture, anti-choice, anti-humanity asses can feel free to kiss mine.

Love, Jilly


I don't claim to believe that Obama is the messiah everyone seems to think he is. Frankly, I find myself to be distrustful of anyone who makes it as a viable presidential candidate, because given the state of American politics, they had to sell a little bit of their soul to get there. Luckily, I don't have to think that he can walk on water in order to vote for him.

On a side note, tonight's Daily Show made me adore Brian Williams, if only because he made a gay innuendo and talked about John Stewart being all up in his grill.

Don't be silly, turn on Billie. She's singing us to sleep so we can dream our lives away....

Overheard on the Daily Show just now--

"Do you feel that we might have a lifestyle civil war? Obviously, the red's would win-- they have guns. But you throw a nice hot latte in someone's face, that's not gonna feel good..."

I don't know why, but that cracks me up.

I have not accomplished nearly as much as I've wanted to the last week and a half. While Eric was gone, I originally had a plan to finish touching up the eggplant bathroom, start testing colors for our bedroom, and finish both Grocery Bag #2 and the magenta sweater. Instead I have:

-spent hours on Ravelry
-worked some crazy hours and commuted to different stores
-become obsessed with Dr. Horrible, iTunes, Studio 60 (again), and The Pierces album, Thirteen Tales of Love and Revenge
-watched The Dark Knight (HOLY SHIT Heath Ledger as a spectacular Joker OMG Harvey Dent)
-locked myself out of my house (twice)
-watched some Golden Girls with Rob, both in tribute to the recent passing of Estelle Getty, and because it's a good show. Although I keep finding more and more friends who like the show, the fact is Golden Girls will always be synonymous with Carly.
-slept through my favorite part of Kung Fu Hustle

Thursday will be the day to take care of these things I've been meaning to do, including finishing the first sleeve and starting the second of the pink sweater.

For now, I'm gonna go watch yet another episode of Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, then go to bed to start another early morning.

Funny how knowing that I'm being ridiculous about something doesn't seem to make me any less so. I've been feeling really petty and snarky today, overly irritated by the rather innocuous and, in and of themselves, inoffensive actions of others.

In my defense, some of this has been building, brought on by a lot of other shitty actions by the same people that I have been letting slide by.


I should feel bad about getting (inwardly) pissy because everyone I know managed to inconvenience me today, but I don't. As I told Steph earlier, sometimes you just shouldn't have to swallow things. Or more accurately, "we can't be big people all the time."

I had something of any epiphany the other day, brought on by my recently-finished Lace Skirt. Since I currently don't have pictures of the finished garment, I will substitute it with my favorite place in my house:







And my favorite dog doing something that makes him happy:







But I digress.






It occurred to me, as I was flouncing around in my new skirt on the 4th of July, that I could finally put into words the feeling I've always felt when I put on a garment I made myself.

It is this perfect marriage of three things-- the perceived luxury and decadence of owning and wearing custom-made clothing, the self-satisfaction that comes from being able to make something with little more than sticks and string, and the singular feeling of uniqueness in a mass-marketed world. Yes, alteast a few hundred other people have made the same skirt I did, but once you factor in yarn, color, size, and all those tiny modifications that we do to garments, my little faded pink skirt with it's white ribbon trim is like none other.

When we live in a time where everything is made cheaply and shipped from somewhere else, and until recently the idea of making things yourself or choosing handmade over store-bought was considered fringe thinking or something only available to the very wealthy, the notion that simply doing something our predeccesors did out of necessity is forward thinking and just now entering into the mainstream boggles my mind.

The little things are awesome.

In keeping with my "I'm having a great couple of days" theme-- 4th of July weekend has historically always been a great time, full of friends and barbecue and things to laugh about.

Currently though, now that all the friends who came over for Eric's Birthday Barbecue have gone home, after the super awesome fajitas we made have all been consumed and Gus has played so hard with our friends' dog Otis that he was falling asleep against his will, the things that are making me happiest are

-wifi
-warm weather
-pandora radio

There's nothing like updating your blog from a comfortable chair on your back patio, with the night breeze flowing over you, the train whistle blowing in the distance, and Fiest playing softly in the background.

It seems that a holiday isn't a holiday until I hurt myself.

I fell and broke a flower pot with my face last night. Three things:

a)it wasn 't on purpose.
b)the flower pot was this wierd compostable plastic stuff that is designed to break apart anyway.
c)There's a reason that I am known as Jilly, the pitifully uncoordinated.

I wasn't always this way. In fact, I think that the first fall into my bathtub, along with giving me a concussion, permenantly screwed up my equilibrium, because I have fallen more in the last three years than I have in my entire life. And I always manage to take the impact on the left side of my forehead.

Other than that, this has been so far an incredibly enjoyable long weekend.

Lessons I should have already learned by now.

1. Don't try to type when you've just painted your nails.
2. Don't paint your nails in the first place. You're just going to chew all that polish off anyway.

It seems after nearly a year on Ravelry I'm finally starting to stick my toe into the discussion boards. I'm only about 30 posts in over the last month or two ,but so far my favorite discussions have been from the group for the Lazy, Stupid and Godless. Until now, I never knew the word "twatweasel" could be used so many times in one conversation.

At the moment, though, I think I'm going to tear myself away from message boards and actually knit something instead. I'm one handle away from finishing one project, and if I apply myself, I might even be able to get all the ends weaved (woven? Neither one ever sounds right) in on the Lace Skirt. And just maybe if there's a slow day at work tomorrow, I just might be able to fix the bind off and add straps to my Vixen cami. That would be three FO's in one weekend, an unheard of accomplishment here at the House of Chaos!

For now, to the Bat Cave!

For I am truly lazy.

Don't feel like posting a full entry, so I'll simply give myself some bulletpoints for later (or possibly not.) To sum up:

• The Lacey Skirt is all done but for weaving in ends and adding ribbon.
• I have been make some rocking meals lately. Mahi mahi, anyone?
• Working 52 hours in a week, mostly by yourself, is potentially bad for one's health, but definetely good for one's wallet.
• I finally knit something with some of the handspun I've been stockpiling!
• The Rose Cardigan has suffered due to my dalliances with handspuns and skirtiness.
• Trader Joe's Artichoke and Lemon Pesto = new favorite thing ever. You know, behind potato bread.

The sound of our voices made us forget everything that had ever hurt our feelings.

Finally seamed the sides of the Rambling Rose Cardigan last night, after a self-pep talk and a glass of wine. I've been avoiding it because not only do I hate seaming, I've never sewn a seam in reverse stockinette and therefore must completely suck at it.


Suprisingly, it turned out better than most of my seams do! Isn't it great to find out you can do something you thought you couldn't? I'm so stoked, I'm even ready to tackle the short rows on top. I'm trying like hell to get this thing knocked out soon, because I don't really want to have the guilt that comes with another six-month sweater like the No-Name Cardigan. I've set a deadline of June 25th, three months after I started it. Somehow I'm hoping to get my skirt done in the same time, but I think that might just be wishful thinking. Either way, one of these things will be getting worn to various weddings in August.



Subsequently, this means that I've unfortunately hit the age where summer = wedding season.*


I've also been putting my new planter boxes to good use, and have even added another hanging basket. I'm determined to get as much use out of what little space I have, lack of sunlight be damned. The emphasis so far has been basil and mint. Three (maybe four) varieties of basil, with an additional lime basil in the tiny seed greenhouse I started last week, and another three of mint. Two are just for smell, as I'm not sure what use I really have for chocolate or ginger mint, but the "mint julep" plant will definetely be put to work this summer.


As small as these little things are, I find that minor things like filling my tiny patio with plants and making myself a kickass dinner like the grilled mahi mahi I had last night are really my bread and butter, morale-wise. It means that no matter how evil and frustrating and downright fucking annoying the outside world is, I can come home to a place where we do what we like and like what we do.

*Don't get me wrong, I like weddings. I'm just not too fond of having to ready myself for the barrage of questions and criticism about mine and Eric's unmarried and unengaged status.

Sometimes I wish I walked around with a tiny music player (think boom box more than mp3) that could play some sort of victory song for those small, rather insignificant accomplishments one has every day. You know, those moments when you have exact change at the store, or nab the perfect parking spot, or get through an interaction with the world's worst customer without saying anything snarky? How awesome would it be if at that moment "We are the Champions" suddenly started playing?

I don't know about you, but it would certainly make my day atleast 17% more kick-ass.

Eric is definetely one bad ass shut-yo-mouth. Our back patio had these pitiful looking horizontal slat divider things between ours and our neighbors and we've never been terribly fond of them. One side has this chicken-wire sort of mesh woven into it, presumably so someone (not us) could attempt to grow climbing plants. Either way we've been tired of looking at it, so we got the bright idea to basically put a fence on top of the fence. It's definetely got some bonuses--

a)sound deadening privacy wall

b)LOTS more space to hang stuff

c) lovely cedar smell

and now... planter boxes!

Keep talkin' that smack, don't be suprised when you wake up on the ground....

There seems to be a bit of trouble and tension brewing around Chez Dog Hair. Not between me and Eric, mind you-- other than E's impending departure on Sunday for Bumfuck, Egypt things are pretty cool within our little abode. Out in the world, though, things feel hostile and uncomfortable. I have a slightly sinking feeling that some of it might be due to one very small (but very key) misunderstanding. Nonetheless it seems like everyone, E included, has ramped it up to Defcon 5 or something.

The whole thing makes me want to move out to Double Ditch Road* and put a big "Trespassers will be shot on sight" sign at the foot of my driveway, despite my dislike of guns. There are just few things that bother me more than coming home to a hostile environment, especially a passive-aggressive one.

Then again, who am I to talk when I'm sitting here pouring my frustration onto the internets instead of discussing it with the other parties. Hey kettle, pot here. I think we already know what color you are.

*There actually is a Double Ditch Road within Whatcom County. Sometimes living within Bellingham makes me forget that the rest of the area is pretty fucking rural. The road's name is accurate however-- there is indeed two big-ass ditches running the 5-mile length of it.