UFOs and 90 Second Mistakes
I started something new again today, folks. It's a design-as-you-go shrug. That means, I haven't quite decided yet what the finished product will look like, only that it will be a shrug.
And dark blue.
I'm doing a lace pattern over the body of the shrug, because I see this as not so much a wear-in-the-cold-weather sort of shrug as a wear-when-the-AC-is-up-too-high sort of shrug. I mentioned that I made a quick shrug last year to combat the chill in some of the convention rooms I was in, right? Well, I also have that problem with movie theaters (which are usually the temperature of Pluto at night) and some restaurants.
Now, before you start heaping the guilt on me... I am out of die rolls for the Chaos Sweater, so I am waiting on T to roll them. (Remember the chaos must be keyed to his personal chaos.)
And I am purposely setting the Boobholder (another opportunity to say it) aside for now because I am going to knit from this point on along with another knitter. (Can we all think of a naughty name for a Boobholder Support Group?)
Oh, speaking of knitting... I started my new job today.
Yes, I know. That has nothing to do with knitting. But I'm a little tired and couldn't think of a good transition.
So, new job. Now, some of you may know I have Road Rage issues. I have spoken about it in other forums and at least one of you has had occasion to witness the fruit of that tree. You know who you are.
True story: one time I got a very good job reference from a colleague, who then told my perspective employer "Just don't get into the car with her." In fairness, let me tell you that I have never hit another car and have only hit a person once. Okay, twice. But only once was on purpose.
So, it's kinda sucky that I have to drive 30 minutes to my new job. In rush hour traffic. Sucky for the other drivers.
Luckily, I had no issues with that today. I had a little Van Morrison going on the drive in and a little Ringo Starr on the way home. It could have been a nice time.
Unfortunately, I am not well known for my driving skills. Or my ability to follow road directions, if they are not told to me as you would tell your moron pet monkey. This tends to compound the Road Rage issues, as you can imagine.
Oh, but I had a plan today. You see, to get to work, it's left out of my driveway, then right, left, right, left, right, left, then right. Easy, peasy, mac and cheesy, right? So, I go left, right, left, right, left... And when I get to my next right....
WTF????
Oh yeah, did I mention downtown Indianapolis is the Crossroads of America? Know what that means? That means every frackin' street is a one way! Going the wrong way!
*Insert your favorite swear words here.*
So, I gotta call T. He's the only one I know with a sense of direction who is not going to be worried for my mental health when he hears the rambling, 100 mph way I relate to him the situation. He's the only one who won't mock me mercilessly for it. (That's what you get, I guess, when you train your friends and family by example.)
I pull over to a fast food place that I have been in and know has a payphone and hey look, has an empty parking space right in front. (No, I don't have a cell phone. Cell phone drivers fuel my road rage. You only think you can drive and talk on the phone, but I'm telling you, Sweetie. You can't.) Rush in. Call T. Ninety seconds, tops.
Rush out...
...and he actually looks up, sees me coming (and my pleading, frantic face "Oh no! Please! Please! No!" .... Okay. You know what I really said. Insert that here.) and then he starts keying in the info even faster! Like he's hurrying to get the damn ticket written before I can get there!
Twenty dollars!!! Twenty frackin' dollars so I can make a ninety second phone call! What, are they like the meter Nazis? There were other spaces, you know. I wasn't keeping somebody else from being able to park.
T said, "You should have put money in the meter." Yeah, okay. Maybe I should have. But I grabbed change for the phone and that was it. Then R said, "You should have gone to the meter and turned the knob so it would look like you put money in it."
For all my faults, I've raised a child both practical and devious. And, to top it off, he laughed at my ticket. A chip off the old block.
And dark blue.
I'm doing a lace pattern over the body of the shrug, because I see this as not so much a wear-in-the-cold-weather sort of shrug as a wear-when-the-AC-is-up-too-high sort of shrug. I mentioned that I made a quick shrug last year to combat the chill in some of the convention rooms I was in, right? Well, I also have that problem with movie theaters (which are usually the temperature of Pluto at night) and some restaurants.
Now, before you start heaping the guilt on me... I am out of die rolls for the Chaos Sweater, so I am waiting on T to roll them. (Remember the chaos must be keyed to his personal chaos.)
And I am purposely setting the Boobholder (another opportunity to say it) aside for now because I am going to knit from this point on along with another knitter. (Can we all think of a naughty name for a Boobholder Support Group?)Oh, speaking of knitting... I started my new job today.
Yes, I know. That has nothing to do with knitting. But I'm a little tired and couldn't think of a good transition.
So, new job. Now, some of you may know I have Road Rage issues. I have spoken about it in other forums and at least one of you has had occasion to witness the fruit of that tree. You know who you are.
True story: one time I got a very good job reference from a colleague, who then told my perspective employer "Just don't get into the car with her." In fairness, let me tell you that I have never hit another car and have only hit a person once. Okay, twice. But only once was on purpose.
So, it's kinda sucky that I have to drive 30 minutes to my new job. In rush hour traffic. Sucky for the other drivers.
Luckily, I had no issues with that today. I had a little Van Morrison going on the drive in and a little Ringo Starr on the way home. It could have been a nice time.
Unfortunately, I am not well known for my driving skills. Or my ability to follow road directions, if they are not told to me as you would tell your moron pet monkey. This tends to compound the Road Rage issues, as you can imagine.
Oh, but I had a plan today. You see, to get to work, it's left out of my driveway, then right, left, right, left, right, left, then right. Easy, peasy, mac and cheesy, right? So, I go left, right, left, right, left... And when I get to my next right....
WTF????
Oh yeah, did I mention downtown Indianapolis is the Crossroads of America? Know what that means? That means every frackin' street is a one way! Going the wrong way!
*Insert your favorite swear words here.*
So, I gotta call T. He's the only one I know with a sense of direction who is not going to be worried for my mental health when he hears the rambling, 100 mph way I relate to him the situation. He's the only one who won't mock me mercilessly for it. (That's what you get, I guess, when you train your friends and family by example.)
I pull over to a fast food place that I have been in and know has a payphone and hey look, has an empty parking space right in front. (No, I don't have a cell phone. Cell phone drivers fuel my road rage. You only think you can drive and talk on the phone, but I'm telling you, Sweetie. You can't.) Rush in. Call T. Ninety seconds, tops.
Rush out...
...and he actually looks up, sees me coming (and my pleading, frantic face "Oh no! Please! Please! No!" .... Okay. You know what I really said. Insert that here.) and then he starts keying in the info even faster! Like he's hurrying to get the damn ticket written before I can get there!
Twenty dollars!!! Twenty frackin' dollars so I can make a ninety second phone call! What, are they like the meter Nazis? There were other spaces, you know. I wasn't keeping somebody else from being able to park.
T said, "You should have put money in the meter." Yeah, okay. Maybe I should have. But I grabbed change for the phone and that was it. Then R said, "You should have gone to the meter and turned the knob so it would look like you put money in it."
For all my faults, I've raised a child both practical and devious. And, to top it off, he laughed at my ticket. A chip off the old block.
posted by Patwoman | 10:11 PM
1 Comments:
I used to live in Indy..I remember the traffic...I'd forgotten all the one way streets. I'm sure thats due to some sort of trauma syndrome.
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