Oh blog, I haven't forgotten you. I just work a whole lot during the summer and don't write like I used to. I've also been taken over to the facebook darkside due simply to the high percentage of my friends who have one and put information on it. I hate the damn thing, but can't give it up or miss out on, like, everything.



But I do miss you, my darling blog, and I have been crafting, albeit at a much smaller level. I took up canning, and am on a quest to make the ultimate bloody mary using green beans I pickled myself and an experimental jalepeno-infused vodka. It could either turn out incredibly awesome, or incredibly gross, but that's the fun of trying things out!



Truth be told, I thought of you today when I was at the bookstore, checking out what's new in crafting books. The answer: nothing. Either I have put together a really good crafting library, or people are just stealing more and more of other people's ideas.



Frankly, if I see another book that has a chapter devoted to felting sweaters and making throw pillows and crap from them, I'm going to lose my shit entirely. Note to writers/editors/publishers: If you do decide to go against my wishes and put a "no, our felted throw pillows are totally different, we put circles on them!" chapter in your book, don't make it the first one. I will not keep the book open long enough to get to the other stuff that may be possibly useful and interesting.




Seriously though, I have been doing some crafting, albeit without (current) pictures. I bought 20 t-shirts at Goodwill for $24 and am slowly making summer gear out of all of them. So far I have four tank tops and another shirt in the works.

Sadly, my knitting has suffered. 52-hour work weeks + 100 degree temps = no knitting for Jilly, so instead I'll make a few more tanks, get through this summer, and go back to being a chick with sticks.

It's a beautiful day today. The sun is shining, the breeze is flowing. There are kids playing in the yard next door, I can smell the faint scent of a charcoal grill in the air and about a block away, somebody is mowing their lawn.

It's a beautiful day, and all I can think is that today can go screw itself.

I suppose wisdom tooth surgery will do that to a person. My mouth is more swollen today than it was two days ago, when I had my teeth ripped out. The most exciting bit of food I'll get to eat this weekend will be today, when I switch out the customary mashed potatoes for mashed sweet potatoes instead. I'll admit, the tofu-blueberry-yogurt smoothie I made yesterday was pretty kick ass, but I would give almost anything to be able to eat a cheeseburger right now, and I don't even really like cheeseburgers.

You would think this would give me extra knitting time, but mostly it's just extra sleeping time with a little bit of knitting thrown in. Pre-surgery, I got inspired by Stephanie's foray into the red Glitterspun we both have and started the cups from Naughty Needles Basic Bra Pattern, with the notion that I was going to make it into a tank top with a bust area that actually fit. However, the combination of Oxycodone and Glitterspun seemed like a bad one, so I decided something simple, like another grocery bag, was a much better recovery project.

For now, I am going to work up enough energy to put a leash on my dog and step out into this beautiful day long enough for him to pee, then it's back to my comfy pillow-filled couch where I will fall asleep to yet another episode of Bones.

Things I'm stoked about today

I've been having another one of those fits lately, where I get listless and depressed and have a hard time being enthused about anything. I didn't realize how bad it had gotten until my boss pointed out that I had been completely off my game for a while.

As I drove home the other night, wondering what the heck was wrong with me, someone on the radio mentioned that it was the beginning of March, and then it hit me. In fact, I felt silly that I hadn't caught on sooner. It's March!

I started to notice about six or seven years ago that the few weeks between mid-February and mid-March are a slightly dangerous time for me. After six months of greyness, never really seeing the sun, never being able to get completely dry or warm, I start to crack a little.

Luckily, knowing what the problem is makes it that much easier to deal with. I spent yesterday buying interesting used books and getting all of my flower pots ready for spring. And today, I'm making a list of awesome things....

....starting with the "Leftovers Lasagna" I'm eating. I threw in some carrots, brocolli, green peppers, and some leftover turkey kielbasa from a dish I made earlier this week. YUM. It even got the seal of approval from Eric, who isn't at all keen on lasagna.

--

Sometimes I can only shake my head at my coworker sometimes. She was talking today about how she's going to have to borrow some money from a friend....so she can go to the casino. She lost about $60 in thirty minutes the other night, but now that her brother has taught her the rules of blackjack, she's sure she'll be able to double her money in a hand or two. She says she has a plan now-- take the $20 she's planning on borrowing to her favorite slot machine, double it, then head to the blackjack table.

We asked her what she was going to do if she lost her money too quickly (crazy idea, I know), and she said if that happened she would go to the bar and wait for someone to buy her a drink.

...but that won't happen, because she has a plan.

I guess that's what all the other poor shmucks are doing wrong. They're failing to properly plan.

In no particular order.

1. I still say being the nicest meter maid is kind of like being the best five-dollar hooker. Seriously, he was still out ticketing at four minutes to five. Luckily, I can sprint faster than his little go-kart can drive

2. I made spanakopita last weekend to go with the fabulous gyros I picked up from the mediterranean market. Sad thing is, without thinking I chucked them into the fridge afterwards, where they have been slowly getting soft and uncrispy. I'm currently experimenting with re-crisping them in the oven for a few minutes, because I'll be damned if I let my phyllo efforts go to waste, and looking up the best way to freeze them. So far it doesn't look promising-- it seems the best way to freeze them is to have done it before I baked them in the first place. Atleast I still had some dolmathes left over, that almost makes up for it.

3. I had to rip out two or three days worth of knitting this afternoon. Stupid as it sounds, it always pains me a little when I have to pull it all apart because I screwed up.

4. My black eye is almost gone! Woohoo!

5. Even after watching the entire movie and a special feature or two, (Quentin Tarantino presents) Hell Ride made no sense whatsover.

...and I think that's pretty much it.

I'm really tired of being sick. I think I may be finally kicking the cold that moved in on me a week and a half ago. The one nice part has been days off spent alternating between sleeping on the couch and crafting while watching movies....and sometimes sleeping while trying to watch movies. (I still have no idea what the Golden Compass was about.)

Happily, I'm picking back up a nearly decade-old project. I started a quilt when I was 18 out of all of my worn out pairs of jeans. It's edged with the back pockets, and every fabric is either a former item of clothing or the leftovers from making something else-- flannel from some pajama pants, star-printed cotton from some throw pillows I sewed up for my teenage bedroom. My favorite part has always been the pegasus in the center, cut out and appliqued on after my favorite t-shirt met an unfortunate end with some bleach.

I made the quilt top at 18, then carted it around for nine years and four or five moves, not sure what to do next. I kept thinking about making it bigger or adding this or that, but when I pulled it out of the trunk a month or so ago, I realized that mostly I just wanted to finish it. So I'm going to add a little more embroidery (courtesy of some Sublime Stitching patterns I picked up last week,) then back it and finish it.

I just can't wait to have my biggest recycled project finally done!

I have to say, this year's football hangover wasn't as bad as it normally is. Normally, dumb as this may sound, I get slightly depressed the first week after the Superbowl, because it's the farthest I'm going to be from the next football season. Don't get me wrong-- I'm not crying in my shower over it, but when the shortest season in sports ends for the only sport I actually like, I get a little sad.

However, I'm already starting to look towards next season. The combine. The draft. It's going to be interesting to see how next year plays out.

....but that wasn't what i planned to write about.

Actually, I started to write about a dive bar I really like. For starters, it's lit entirely by beer signs, and still has an old-school non-internet jukebox. A very long time ago, back when I lived in the center of my podunk town, my roommates and I would go there to "go out into the county" and play pool. Most of the time, I shit you not, we were the only people there with a full set of teeth.

Now that football's over, we're thinking of making the dive bar a regular Saturday night/Sunday afternoon routine. I'm pretty stoked about it.

After reading Yarn Harlot's post about the silliness of male/female buttonholes, (which is a rant I've also had in the past) it occurred to me that I have officially gone over the knitter edge. That was the second article/blogpost I've read about freaking buttonholes today.

I might officially need to get a life. Also, after a conversation with Eric, I realized he needs to get a life too-- he just sat here and listened to me talk about reading about buttonholes.

After a week of minor wierdness and a bit of isolation, it's nice to know I can always come home and get a high-five from my dog.

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.