Thoughts

So... this blogging thing. Weird, isn't it?

I think of it as a little like money. You either have plenty because you work but no time to spend any, or time to spend money because you don't work and therefor don't have any. With this blog... I have a busy life, so lots to write about. But no time to write about it! Added to that is the issue of confidentiality with my job, and I end up with lots I want to say, very little I can say, and no time to say it.

I used to compose posts in my head and champ at the bit to get home to write them down. These days these thoughts come to me in facebook updates. The time I want to give to composing just isn't there. All my thoughts are posted as they occur, and I don't want to repeat myself here.

And I am at the point in my life where the world is shrinking. The connection I have with my husband is wonderful. Whatever happens, we have fun and I don't have to be anything except myself (it was just our first anniversary by the way!). The downside of this is that I am kind of getting rusty with the ol' small talk. Don't get me wrong, I have yet to meet a parent teacher night the butt of which I cannot kick. But when it comes to the social thing... I struggle with the transition between acquaintance and friend. Honestly, I think I am most charming and interesting when I don't know people at all.

So this shrinking thing? It was my yr 10 ten year reunion yesterday. I've been battling with the migraines again and was really not well enough to go. And this morning I'm looking at the requisite pics on facebook and thinking "I have no idea what I would have said to any of these people". I can count my friends on my fingers. And of those friends, the ones I manage to keep in contact with I can count on my thumbs. And I feel like I should feel worse about this.

Anyway, the tangential nature of this post reflects a) the fact that I no longer edit the poop out of my posts, b) the tail end of my latest migraine and c) a possible crisis of identity.

But there are socks!Apparently my limited brain power of late has made me susceptible to the deep and calming persuasion of the sock. I've just looked back over my rav projects, and I've finished 7 pairs since the end of August, and have two pairs on the go. More details here: rav link.

I also made another cropped cardigan: Bright Star from Twist Collective in Cleckheaton Country 8ply.
I love the idea of a cropped cardi, but am having trouble finding a colour I can wear that works for this type of garment. All the cute ones I see are bright red or yellow, and I look pretty unwell in both of those. Navy works well for me, but is kind of hard to accessorise. There are only so many white tops I have...

Anyway, a nice wingey, confusing post. Hope to get in another one soonish. Still have no solution to the issue of confidentiality vs. needing to get the hilarity off my chest... I'm open to suggestions, if there's anyone still out there ;)

Peace out
Ms Spider xox

take a deep breath now

So apparently now I have 62 days to go. Arg!

The dress has been delayed. Was supposed to be early June and now it won't be at the shop until September 2nd. Considering the wedding date is 3rd October, it's taking a concerted effort not to hyperventilate about this. Busiest time of year for weddings, 4 weeks to fit...
My veil also appears to be taking longer than suggested - why is white so hard to get a hold of? If I wanted cream I could have walked out of the boutique with a new one in a packet! Every wedding shop treats me like a freak of nature because white suits me better... I'm trying to take it as a sign that I'm special.
The jeweler ordered Monkey's ring in the wrong size - apparently Q and O are too hard to tell apart.

I finished weaving the bridesmaids stoles this week, which is a huge relief. it's not that they were at all difficult, it's just warping is a pain in the butt. Has anyone worked out a more efficient method than shoving loose bits of paper in as you wind up the warp? I also found these earrings at Diva, which i think are perfect for the bridesmaids. I love them so much that i bought myself a pair too.

On the weight-loss front, I'm doing really well. From February to May i lost about 4 kilos on my own, and then I joined Fernwood to give me a boost. Since I joined I've lost another 5, and i actually have muscle tone again. I feel like I'm getting my body back.
Through Fernwood I have had help through their Slimplicity program, but I have to say I'm ambivalent as to how helpful it's been. To start with, their daily food allowances gives you 1200 calories, and everywhere else I've looked suggests that this is way too low for my height and level of excercise. Dangerous even.
Also, I am doing a great deal of weights training, and the protein allowance for one day is 90g. This is less than a small tin of tuna.
So, basically, I've been ignoring it. I already ate quite well, but I've cut down on sugar and high-fat foods, and upped my already high intake of fruit and veg. I also read up on the CSIRO Total Wellbeing Diet, which makes HEAPS more sense. Plenty of protein, enough carbs for energy but not so much that it's awkward for me (who doesnt eat gluten and is out of the habit of eating any breads etc). lots of fruit and all the veges i can eat. perfect.
Problem is, I am between two consultants at the gym. One, I'll call her L, is lovely. late 30's, motherly, relaxed and positive. Every gram I lose is an achievement and she understands that i'm modifying the diet to suit my needs. The other lady, K (late 20's), is driving me nuts.
Now, before i go on too much, I need to explain my position. I gained weight because i was sick, for a long long time. The coeliac's affected my vitamin levels and i was physically sick all the time, just working 5 days sent me spiraling into exhaustion at night and weekends, migraine headaches, fatigue, nausea (on and off since age 7)... plus medication for depression etc over the last 10 years that all cause weight-gain. My weight-gain was not due to lack of self-control. I do not eat 20 donuts a day, i have never eaten at McDonalds... I enjoy excercise. I have good eating habits, despite my sweet tooth. I do indulge, but i'm not stupid about it.
Now L totally gets all this. She is awesome. Unfortunately, without any real warning, half the time i end up booked in with K. K clearly has one approach to motivating weight loss clients - fear. when i re-gained 500g due to bloat she gave me a telling off like no other, despite my telling her I was having a shocker period and had probably gained. When i lost a kilo in a week, she tells me (very sarcy) "see what you can achieve when you follow the program?". For starters, I am NOT following their sadistic program, and secondly she needs to back off before i smack her in the teeth.
I dont think I'm being unreasonable to expect her to modify her approach for me. After all, I'm paying for the priviledge. I've rebelled so far by refusing to keep a food diary any more (she doesnt trust me, despite 2 months of identical daily food lists). It's all very passive aggressive - i just dont bring it and tell her i forgot. I'm honest with her about what i eat, i tell her i had a couple of minties a few days ago ("We just have to make sure it isnt every snack, mm-kay?" Knowing look, ARGGG).
She also tells me my weight and measurements like a) she is giving me a gift that she made herself and b) she owns this knowledge about my body and i should be grateful that she chose to share. I know what I weigh. I know my measurements. I measure myself every week to make sure my knitting is going to fit. She wants me to thank her for all the hard work i have done.
Any suggestions about what I do about this would be appreciated. I dont want to be nasty, and i dont particularly want to complain to her manager, but i also dont want to keep paying for a weekly reprimand (whether i do well or not).

In knitting news, I joined the ravelry group NaKniSweMoDo (National Knit a Sweater a Month Dodecathon) earlier this year and am quite chuffed to announce I am up to number 11 :D
Number 1
Number 2
Number 3
Number 4
Number 5
Number 6
Number 7
Number 8Number 9
Number 10

Number 11 is Slinky Ribs by Wendy Bernard in Bendigo Harmony. More news on that one when i finish. More details for all projects here

ok, enough now. phew!

peace out,
Ms Spider xo

Yawngirls and Transborers

So, I've just spent the last few hours of my life watching Dreamgirls. Can I just ask, when did having a plot go out of fashion? This is the second new(ish) film I've seen recently and both times I've wanted those wasted hours back.
Now, I understand that this was originally a musical, so I have no-one really to blame for the utter lack of any memorable songs (except maybe 'Dreamgirls' because it's intensely irritating and therefore memorable, and 'One Night Only' because it's actually sung by someone with a vocal range). Clearly the directer was crippled. And I suppose the sequence of events is down to the original musical also.
But, honest to Dog, I spent the entire film trying to decide who I was supposed to like and where the whole thing was heading.
Now, don't get me wrong. There is definitely talent in this film. The young woman who plays Effie White, Jennifer Hudson, has a sensational voice and 'stage' presence. Eddie Murphy's performance is also fabulous. I was charmed by the both of them.
Beyonce on the other hand... look, she can sing, dance and act well. I really think she did what she could with the part, but I spent the whole film really trying to like her and finding her dim, two-dimensional, and lacking a backbone. And I was prepared to like her in a Bridget-Jones-is-meant-to-be-useless kind of way, until she runs off with her friend's fella. So then I couldn't really forgive her, frankly, moronic obediance and politeness because she wasn't even genuinely nice.
The chap (Jamie Foxx apparently) who plays the ne'er do well fella that Beyonce runs off with is about as convincing as a porridge sandwich. I suppose the mustache is there to add an air of mystique and danger, but it's rather like he's lost a battle with a Vegemite sandwich. He spends the whole movie bullshitting people, screwing people over, cheating on women, having dodgy business practice and treating his wife like a product... and he's really very irritating. You might say this is down to him being the 'bad guy', but i actually think he irritates me because the performance was sub par. There's absolutely no range to his performance: he's the same pratt in the first scene as in the last... at least everyone else managed a superficial bit of development.
The costuming and set, mise en scene etc are all sensational, and I remember why I wanted to see it - the preview looked very exciting. And it is kind of exciting... in a "something might happen eventually" kind of way.
There are lots of great singers and everything, but they have this unfortunate tendency to break into pointless and confusing songs that you're never really sure are supposed to make sense. The suspension of disbelief is difficult in musicals anyway, but for some reason five totally disparate people breaking into the same song in perfect harmony felt really stupid in this film.

It did have it's merits. It isn't the worst film I've ever seen... by a long shot. And perhaps I'm just getting old, and this dissatisfaction is a sign of a premature middle age.

However, I will just add that I recently saw (or more accurately, was forced to watch) Transformers II. Good grief! So as not to numb the minds of the two people who've managed to make it this far, I'll give you dot points:

• Every female in the film, except for the protagonist's mum, looks like an extra from a Swedish porn film. There are now millions of teenage boys who want to attend college/uni just to see the silicon heave!
• There is a scrap of a plot, in all honesty, but it's disjointed and confusing and random ideas seem to emerge and then disappear with no real impact on anything.
• I loved Transformers cartoons as a child, and was actually managed to stomach all the cheese until the last hour...
• when it took 40 minutes for the protagonist to do something vital.
• and we watch him and his porn-esque girlfriend run, dodging explosions and giant fighting robots.
  
• on a totally separate note, don't run if you have fake boobs and a low cut top. It looks hilarious.
• And every time they fall over i wanted to scream "just stay down, you twat!"
• And then she twists her fecking ankle (no, really).
  
• and then the ending doesn't even make sense and the supposed 'romantic' resolution is about as convincing as John Howard's smile.
  
• Oh, and every scene consists of a million fast-pan shots of even the most mediocre scene... picture me sitting here typing, except the camera is panning around me Matrix-style, and then close up of my eye and then my brow creases, and then my foot tapping and then a super-close up of the keyboard... now picture that happening, with a booming tuneless soundtrack for three hours.
  
• OK, I'm done

Thanks for tolerating my winge. I'm sure one day I'll see fit to tell you all something about the impending wedding... or, you know, some knitting or something. One day. When I'm a little less grumpy.

Seen any shockers lately?

the grumpy
Ms Spider xox

we have a guest!

Last week we moved an old mattress out of our carport to take it to the tip, and a rather startled possum ran out from behind it. He scooted up into the roof of the carport where we are storing some old doors and has been there for a week. every day or so I go and check he's there - i can usually find him from a bit of fur squished between the doors, but today was a special case.
I was going back inside after staking the peas and noticed a black lump.
then it uncurled.
When I got underneath I could see he was having a sleep and had slid down into the gap between roof and door.
priceless.

In other news, the wedding plans are coming along well. we now have a photographer, invitations and a hairdresser. Research of bridal magazines suggests that brides are always caucasian and do not come in a size larger than 12 (and the 12 are often referred to as 'plus sized. Hello, fashion industry? GET A GRIP) and this has been quite distracting. The bridesmaids dresses are sorted and next step is for me to weave stoles for them.
I've been knitting a lot and losing my mind a lot more.
Have now lost 4 kilos but have plateaued, much to my annoyance. I have best results from jogging but have the most excruciating calf pain for days afterwards despite stretching. I really want to be able to jog everyday but once those muscles hurt I just can't do it - it feels like my legs will collapse or explode. I cant even bend my legs and kneel without a great deal of pain. maybe i need a sports physio (Hooray! more expense!)
work has been very stressful. I'm on school break at the moment, but go back on tuesday. and I'm dreading it. I'd only just started to shake the feeling of desperation and now I have to go back. blech. (i still love the teaching, it's the whole stupid system that wears me down. Apparently I'm still far too idealistic. Once I have been beaten down til i have no hope of anything working properly I will find the job bearable, or so I'm told. sigh).

Anyway, the possum is cute!

Ms Spider xo

running commentary

When I started this blog, back in July 2005, I really didn't have much of a plan. Basically, I wanted 'someone' to talk at. It was pre-SnB and I was getting to the point where my family and friends were probably going to kill me if I didn't shut up about yarn and gauge and blocking. It meant my diary could be easily read by me, and I could whack pictures in without having trouble closing a book. I could link to things so I would have an easy place to locate online sources I like to use. I could put my hand up for all the blogs I was reading and felt too weird to comment on, hence the People I Am Stalking list. I always knew it was public, and I liked it. It forced me to put a check on the crazy (believe it or not) and made it really easy for old friends to keep track of me when our lives just didn't synch up.
When I started getting the odd comment, I loved it. It was so exciting! I said something and then someone, maybe over the other side of the world, would put in their two-cents. It felt like all over the world, people were being brought together because of their love for yarn.
When I started going to SnB, other SnBers started (or admitted to) blogging and comments from people I had actually met would appear. Once the initial buzz faded, I relished the fact that people were there to offer guidance, sympathy and honesty. I loved that all the knitters I knew were completely different. For the first time I felt accepted for my mad need to make each knitting skill I came across my bitch. I knit a 4ply cotton camisole (my first real summer knit) and for the first time I had friends who could appreciate the skill and time and patience involved, even if some thought it was fugly and would never knit it themselves.
I met many specialists. There were knitters of elaborate lace christening shawls, knitters who churned out an endless supply of charity knitting, knitters who rescued and recycled yarn as a matter of course, knitters who spun, knitters who made brightly coloured accessories for children, knitters who knit for themselves, knitters who knit for therapy, knitters who knit for company, knitters who only knit at SnB, knitters who made detours in traffic so they could knit at traffic lights. My soul was filled with joy at the rich smorgasbourd of wonderful, clever, generous and creative people in my life.
Change is inevitable and, with knitting being jumped apon and trendified, a certain mainstream knitting culture was bound to emerge. I guess what I wasn't prepared for was the value judgements that would attach to this. I always thought that knitters would just knit what they liked and respect each other for doing the same. Some patterns are so different when they come out that everyone jumps on them, and I don't see a problem with everyone making a Clapotis at some point. I guess the issue I take is that a Clapotis is somehow more valid in our not-so-little community than a one-off, I-was-playing-with-a-stitch-dictionary type stole in a rescued yarn. Whereas once I would be frustrated showing a non-knitter a sock and being told "They're like $5 at Target", now I increasingly notice that other knitters will say "oh, have you knit Monkey or Pomatomus?".
When a new book, issue of knitty or a magazine comes out, I have this faintly hunted feeling that if I want to make something, I either have to pick something so complicated that there won't be many contenders or that I have to cast on instantly so I can have something unique, if only for a week or two. What is going on?
And it's not just the patterns. Not do you have to knit something in the top twenty on ravelry, but it has to be Malabrigo or Cherry Tree Hill or Lorna's Laces or Filatura di Crosa. Don't get me wrong, knit with whatever rings your bell. I'm sitting on more than my fair share of hoarded 'special' yarns. But some of my favourite knits have been with plain old Patons. or Bendigo. or mystery yarns that were missing their ball-bands. And when you hunt around on Ravelry, some of my all time favourite knits were cheap substitutes and I admire and respect the knitters that can use their knowledge and skill to produce something fabulous out of relatively unknown yarn. And no-one seems prepared to acknowledge that one of the 'it' yarns might not be perfect. I've knit two pairs of socks in Lorna's Laces and I'm prepared to say: they pill like nothing on earth.
I guess what I'm getting at is that I miss the melting pot. It used to bug me when I was introduced as the 'Sock Queen' but it bugs me even more when you don't count as a sock knitter unless you've made a pair of Monkeys. Sure, it's a great pattern and yes, I've knit it before. But when I see on ravelry that there have been over 7,000 pairs knitted... I have no desire to jump on board.
I increasingly find myself hunting for obscure patterns. I make sketches and change patterns just enough to make them feel like mine. I find myself avoiding situations where I might be forced to discuss the merits of Malabrigo. I keep reaching for the Moda Vera yarns in my stash rather than the Rowan or Debbie Bliss or Filatura di Crosa.
And I recently noticed, in a distracted sort of way, that I hardly get any comments any more. I won't say it isn't saddening, because it is. I really do miss the community. Venting about a problem and having four or five suggestions within the hour was lovely. Working really hard on a new yarn or a new project and having people who understood the work that went into it cheer me on was validating. And being able to state my opinion and being respected for it, even if no-one agreed... well. That made the whole thing very real.
But the thing is, I blog because I need to write about my knitting and my life. I didn't start for comments, and while they were nice while they lasted, I'm not about to stop without them. I knit because I always have. If I like a pattern, I will knit it. I was never the type to do something just because everyone else was doing it, but I don't want to become the sort of person avoids something for the same reason. Neither is particularly sensible and in any way mature.
I read a lot of blogs and rarely comment. I'll say that now. If a question is asked that hasn't been asnwered yet, I'll comment. If someone I care about has a shite day, I might comment. Or I might call them. I never saw much value in 23 comments saying essentially the same thing 'me too, me too!'. I've got knitting to do.
So I guess if the choice is being myself and going without the comments or jumping on the bandwagon and commenting on every single blog, despite having nothing to say, in the hope that those bloggers will reciprocate... it's being myself everytime.
If you do read this blog I don't expect you to comment. If I say something you want to respond to, eg "Ms Spider, you're completely full of it", then by all means, fire away. The whole point of writing in a public forum is that people can disagree with you. But please, don't ever feel pressured to comment. When it comes right down to it, I blog for me and you blog for you. You read who you want to read and I read who I want to read. We've all got better things to do than type "that's pretty" 300 times a week, just because we feel we ought to say something (If you feel you need to say 'that's pretty" then that's fine too).

Ok, that's my thought for the week. I would like to finish by saying nobody's perfect and with all the exposure to wool, it isnt surprising that we can be such sheep at times. ;)

Peace out,
Ms Spider xo

PS. Spun this week, slubby 2ply Blue Faced Leicester in EGMTK Hippie Haven..... yummeh!

PPS. This is not an attack on anyone in particular, just a collection of thoughts that have been knocking about for a while.

holi-yay!

Whoops! More time has passed than anticipated.
In the past 19 days, Monkey turned 23, i tested negative for coeliac's, i finished another pair of frilly socks, my flutter sleeve cardigan, my handspun scarf, my green diamond socks and school for the term. This is a great relief and I am celebrating by 'acting weird' (according to Monkey) and running about doing all sorts of things.(spring also arrived at chez spidey)
firstly the coeliac's thing. It is highly likely that i have either coeliac's or Non-Coeliac Gluten Intolerance (try saying that three times fast) but as it is so likely... i stopped eating gluten ages ago. Well before i took the blood test. so (i now know but didnt at the time) i would test negative no matter what because the little doovies wouldn't be active. Anyway, we're just making like I do have it because when i eat it by accident I feel wretched for days and I'm not inclined to munch on pasta for a week just to get a piece of paper that says: "you shouldn't eat pasta because it will make you feel like shite".
knitting!
these are more frilly cuff socks in my own sock yarn, colourway Kelp Forest. I LUB them. so fun! My mods on the pattern were to up the needle size a bit and decrease the stitch number to 64 and they fit really well.
I also finished my flutter sleeve cardi in time to wear on the last day of term. I like it a lot, but it's not much like anything else I own. I've never really understood the whole short-sleeved-cardigan thing, so I think it might take me a little while to get used to wearing it. If I were to make it again I would make horizontal button-holes, as the vertical ones were far too saggy in cotton and i had to reinforce them.

Also, pretty handspun scarf. Single spun from EGMTK merino/silk in Alchemy. Purdy.

Yesterday we went to Floriade. I took my camera but it was damn near impossible to get a pic of flowers without 40,000 other people and... well. we took a little break under a willow tree and took self-photos instead.Check out monkey's owl socks!Hee hee hee hee hee!Self-snap fun (the only one where monkey was not scowling or pretending to eat my face) I also caved in (for the third time) at Belissa and purchased another skein of their hand-dyed cashmere laceweight. It's 25 grams and I got my little forest canopy shawl out of a skein of this a couple of years ago. It gets more expensive every time i buy it - three years ago it was $28, 2 years ago $35 and yesterday $38. but it is such lovely yarn... i guess i forgive them. and it's still a pretty good price for hand-dyed pure cashmere that wears like a dream (it just keeps blooming!)


RANT
On saturday evening, Monkey and I went out to dinner and a movie with Monkey sister and her boy. we had dinner at Cream in civic. Now, I have an allergy to chilli. It won't kill me (as far as I know) but I am very sensitive to it, it makes my lips puff up, my entire mouth/nose/face hurt and burn and gives me tummy aches. I was already limited in choice because of the whole damn gluten free thing but they had a risotto that sounded nice. Except: it had chilli in it.
I have dealt with this forever and have no faith in restaurants, so i started looking at the salads (used to be fairly safe to choose a salad, but watch out! every amateur or trendy chef in the world throws chilli in instead of learning anything about flavours, herbs and spices). Everyone at our table got indignant that i should be forced to eat something green (heh heh) and hailed over a waiter.
"Can we order the risotto without chilli?" "Yes, of course you can" "it's not an issue of how hot it is, we have someone with an allergy." "Yes sir, that's fine" "You understand, she can't have any chilli" "yes sir."

So i order the risotto. And before I had even swallowed my first mouthful my reactions kick in.
we hail over a waitress with too much makeup on.
"excuse me, we ordered this risotto without chilli." "Yes sir" "well it has chilli in it" "I did tell the chef" "well it has chilli in it, could you ask?"
waitress with too much makeup on goes and talks to the chef for a while, while i mutter under my breath, mortified about being that person at our table.
ditzy waitress returns.
"chef left the chilli out of the risotto but he used the Master Stock which has chilli in it. But it's not hot" Smiles and drifts off.

So i ate Monkey's caeser salad and he ate a bit of my risotto. When it came to paying, Monkey's very brave sister went and had a go at them and we got the risotto for free... but it really got to me.

I was so embarrassed. nobody ever takes the chilli thing seriously, they make me feel like some pathetic loser who can't cope with a little heat. If i said I had a peanut allergy would anyone have the nerve to suggest "it's not very peanut-t, i doubt you'll even notice". It's not like I'm just some fussy person - it makes me very uncomfortable and if i'm paying for a nice dinner i kinda expect not to have an avoidable allergic reaction while eating it, especially when they are pre-warned.
Anyway, the long and short of it is: i won't be back and they're bloody lucky I'm not anaphylactic.

Anywho, I have things to knit, things to spin and bunnies to wrangle so i shall leave you all to it.

Peace out,
Ms Spider xo

PS. i dont usually rely on other people to talk for me, but i get so embarrassed about the food stuff that monkey just sort of takes over.

Anything you Say-uri

Presenting the lush and lovely Sayuri sweater from Sensual Knits by Yahaira Ferreira.I finished it on Sunday morning and fell deeply in love.
I am less in love, however, with the fact that I cannot both pose for a photograph and take the photograph that I want."aw crap, you've got my butt in the shot, don't you?"
It is, of course, not Monkey's fault that it doesn't occur to him to fuss around to find the most flattering angle or backdrop. He rather likes my little (ha!) belly and so does not see a problem with taking photos that show it off.
He similarly has no problem with weird facial expressions that are the result of taking photos while I am explaining what I want."Monkey, if you are not careful I will look thiiiiiis big!"

Also, not being me, he doesn't think about framing the picture to best show off the garment or to make me look as svelte (and, lets face it, un-me) as possible. Sometimes having someone who loves you no matter what you look like is strangely frustrating, no?
I know we are all aware of this problem with socks, but there are ways around it. Generally, feet all look the same. Socks all looks similar. If what we see is not foot-shaped or sock-shaped we can assume there was an angle problem, a swelling problem or perhaps a gauge problem. And you can always pose them on your sock blockers, if you have them.
Bigger garments though? Those can be problematic.
In the past I have used the 'artistic i-might-be-blocking' type shot for when I have no photographer and little self-esteem.

Surplice Bodice Camisole by Joan McGowan-Michael

There is also the joy of having a dressmakers dummy on hand for some photos.

Back-to-School U-Neck Vest by Stefanie Japel

But using Arabella always seems like cheating to me. Anyone who has met me knows I am not built like that. When I use her for sewing there is adjusting and padding attached to get things right. Plus... I can't always make things that don't clash with the bright, bright red.

So I fall back upon old faithful - the awkward pose in a grubby bathroom mirror. Not all that glamorous really.
Specs:
I made no changes to the pattern except for a few less rounds of the linen stitch waist-band because I was getting a larger row gauge in that stitch.
The yarn is Naturally Yarns Merino et Soie 8 ply and it is DIVINE. I used just under 10 balls and there was only one join in the whole batch! It's lovely to work with, doesnt shed... just. gorgeous.
I got gauge on 5mm addis and then did the i-cord collar on 4.5mm dpns.
I love it.

Also finished a pair of frilly socks on Monday. They are so dorky but very fun. It's like wearing really nice knickers or something, they make me happy.

Went and had a blood test today to check for Coeliac's Disease. This is the most obvious explanation for... well... ALL of my health problems. I'm trying not to dwell, but I did an assignment on the disease in year 9 and I ASKED MY DOCTOR IF IT WAS POSSIBLE. HE SAID NO. Eight years later and the list of symptoms looks like I wrote a quick list of everything that bothers me in a week. Including weak tooth enamel!!!! BASTARD!

cough

sorry. I am trying not to be bitter... but seriously! Someone pass me some knitting, please.

Peace out
Ms Spider xo

fail

So this afternoon I went to my Doctor to discuss the results of my blood test. Normal liver, good kidney function, normal thyroid... and yet. Apparently I fail at vitamin absorbtion. Big time.
My Iron levels were half what they should be, my B12 was at a 5th of what it should be and D barely registered at all. Dr was very composed but her micro-expression gave away a good deal, and now i get to have weekly injections of B12 until she's no longer concerned. It was the the most calm and composed internal "holy shite!" I have ever witnessed.

I'm in two minds about all of this.
Mind 1 says: Awesome! Just what you wanted! Something really simple and obvious and easy to fix. It explains the trouble sleeping, the difficulty concentrating, the lethargy, the headaches, the queasiness, the depression, confusion, dizziness. Dr says within three months of high dose supplements I should be a new woman.
Mind 2 says: ... I have been having all the above problems since I was seven. It's gone up and down but these have been my demons. So, how is it that my old doctor never even suggested any of these things? Have I been feeling like crap on a daily basis since I was a small child because my doctor overlooked a few things like vitamin levels? Am I on a reasonable dosage of happy pills that I don't need? Or, is this a mirage and while I'll feel better... it won't be the end of it.
Monkey's mind says: Awesome! This is the best news ever! Also, can we sue your old doctor for a million billion dollars and buy a castle to live in?

I'll get back to this whole thought process when I stop coughing my lungs up (did i mention I have laryngitis again? Yup. I'm just so much fun the people around me can't help dancing)

Current bus project: sock-it-to-me scarf from 101 designer one-skein-wonders in handspun silk/merino (fibre from EGMTK in Alchemy). It is now about four times this length but... well see above, including lethargy, roll your eyes and move on.

Peace out
Ms Spi-er (because I'm all out of D :s)

almost back to the salt-mines

Well, for three days anyway. That headache that was threatening turned into a full blown migraine on Monday evening and by Wednesday afternoon I was past denial so I left lesson plans for today. I'm still pretty rough, but it's amazing how much easier it is to cope without dealing with loud kids, bells, builders (there's a new disabled access lift being put in) and general mayhem.

Knitting!

I finished the back piece of my little cotton cardi. I didnt notice until near cast-off, but this yarn has a definite bias. I know most cotton yarns do, but this is quite pronounced. I think it will be ok after blocking and seaming.Back piece blocking with wall'o'yarn backdrop.
Also cast on a BSG for Georgie. This is my 4ply sock yarn in Pansies, and I'm having fun. I've knit it enough that it's pretty mindless migraine knitting so it's my partner today (don't worry George, migraines are not contageous as far as i know).
And... I have a little news for you all. Still ironing out the bugs and in no mental place to deal with coding right now but... well, click here. :)

Peace out
Ms Spider xo

ETA - rant removed. didnt need to be reminded of all my bile. hello, gremlin?

where's my gremlin?

This week I keep flashing back to times I've said truly stupid things. To that end, I really want a little gremlin to follow me around and jump up and stuff his fist in my mouth before I say the stupid thing that is threatening. Wouldn't that be nice? You know, before you ask the not-pregnant woman when she's due? Before you freak out new people by forgetting that not everyone considers anti-depressants a necessary evil? Before you say something narky about someone else's friend without realising? yeah, well, where was my gremlin this week?

I think my all time favourite (if that's the right word) stupid thing I've ever said was during a job trial at a little new age boutique place. I was there, there was another girl (i was about 17) and the older manager (probably in her early 30's). Manager woman was complaining about a man who kept asking her out and that she'd finally caved in and was going out with him tonight but didnt really want to. I suggested that she call him and say "sorry but I'm having rather a heavy period" (quote from Monty Python's The Meaning of Life). Cue blank yet slightly freaked out stares from both of them.
Of course, I wasn't as good at subtext back then. It was my gap year and I was out of the habit of spending time with other people and listening to their... stuff. Particularly women. As soon as it was halfway out of my mouth I realised that she wasnt really dreading going out with this guy, she was enjoying telling us she was being chased and worn down by his dedication to her. And of course, neither of them were Monty Python fans. Or probably ever admitted to menstruation.
Needless to say I didnt get the job.

I think I'm getting a little that way again with other adults. I deal with teenagers so much and while there is certainly a persona that I project, I do find that being very honest with my students works well for me. Most of my classes are gloriously... open. The kids say what they think without too much concern about recriminations.. in fact i think most of them know the one thing that will always piss me off is verbally attacking someone or their ideas in class.

trouble is, I get to this point where I forget to hold my cards close to my chest with other adults. If they are not immediately and obviously threatening to me (ie. a boss or manager type) I guess I say things that should probably only be said to close friends who will still love me even if it's a stupid thing to say. And be confident enough to say "Spidey, you're full of it".

So... I guess I'm saying I'm sorry if I've offended anyone recently. It's a strange assurance to make, I know, but if i truly was having a go at anyone... i would think it out carefully first because that's just my way. Chances are, if i said something dumb to you and you were offended... it's because I need a gremlin.

Now that's off my chest! hurrah!
I have no proper modelled shots of the Seashell Shrug but I intend to wear it to SnB this arvo so it will get a public airing.
I finished and felted my second pair of clogs. These are for Monkey and I used woolbale again. The orange didnt felt as densly as the brown, probably because they would have to bleach it first to get a dye that bright. Monkey is very pleased with them. He wasnt sure if he wanted a pair, so we agreed if he didnt like them they would be a birthday present for his Dad in a few months... but since they came out of the dryer (damp) he's had them on.
Also, I started the Flutter Sleeve Cardigan by Pam Allen in Moda Vera Paul. I think I must have been a bit over all the winter knits to gravitate towards something short-sleeved, cotton-y and drapey but that's ok. I'll be prepared for spring, and it's such a lovely colour. The yarn is going a long way too, this is only a third of the way through the second ball.
I also finished spinning some yarn I've had on the go since the Celebration of Wool day. I'm very pleased with the results;light 2ply merino, 50g, 225 metres. The fibre was originally dyed by Rachel Meek of Fibre Dyeversity (one of my biggest girl crushes ever.... this woman has forgotten more about colour than I will ever know).

Back to school tomorrow, so of course I've been wrestling with a headache for a few days. hopefully an afternoon of friends, knitting and hot beverages with soothe my troubled soul ;)

I leave you with an older pic of the buns. I swear they are both completely mad.

Peace out
Ms Spider xo

all the meme

apparrently i'm a little stressed.
I hadnt really noticed until the insomnia kicked in and now... it's Saturday and i had the house to myself for most of the day and i have no good reason to be anxious but i am. I sorted the stash. I groomed the bunnies. i finished the socks for Monkey's Mum. I posted excess stash on ravelry. I skeined yarn for dyeing some self-striping 8ply.
I think I might be going crazy (crazier?).
Maybe it's still the effects of healing from the op last week and I'm just expecting too much from myself. But I cant help falling into a head-space which says: I'm always sick with something, I can't take leave for everything and I cant work and be useful at home in the same day when I'm crook.. which feels like always. I spend my weekends trying to catch up on housework and marking and then suddenly it's sunday night and i still feel like i need a weekend. Add to that the guilt of being a total burden to Monkey (i seriously cant remember the last time i cooked dinner and he works as many hours as i do) and constantly piking on plans because I'm either feeling sick or feeling so tired I know i'd be a total buzz-kill... and I'm feeling pretty useless right now.

I have some issues at work at the moment too. The Knitting group i started is going great guns and the kids are mad keen on it. It's one lunchtime a week and they're nagging me to do it more often. We've seen some amazing results already; one girl with huge behavioural problems is sitting quietly and focusing on a crochet square for an entire lunch... this is a kid who has been known to climb out windows on second floor during classes. Another girl who has been really struggling to connect at school... her eyes just lit up! She's a natural, she had a scarf by the next meeting. It's just great, the kids get so much out of it it feels really important.
but apparently it's not important enough for the school to deem it worthy to cover the odd playground duty for me so i can run it regularly. not only wont they cover it, they make me chase people to swap duties with me.
I know it seems like a tiny thing but it's just so... typical. All we ever hear is "we really appreciate you donating your time/we need volunteers/we need your enthusiasm/we need you to take initiative and use your specialist skills to help the school and the students/helps to make things run smoothly/supervise concert, social, P&C night etc etc" and then the next thing is "oh you have an extra in your only line off today/have you done enough hours/we wont cover a duty for something you're choosing to do".

cough

ok, maybe my stress does have a root. No bloody wonder there's such a high drop out rate for new teachers.

Now, because it's too dark to take proper pics of recent FOs, I'm going to do the meme that has been doing the rounds.


1) What was I doing ten years ago?
I was halfway through term two of year 8. I was madly in love with a boy called Sam and my favourite class was Art. My favourite song was Foolish Games by Jewel (before she went skanky) and I never missed an episode of Dawson's Creek (thought Dawson was a tool but wanted to kiss Pacey).

2) What are five (non-work) things on my to-do list for today?
Dye self-striping yarn for a commission BSJ. List yarn on Ravelry. Finish socks for Monkey's Mum. bi-annual stash toss. blog.

3) Snacks I enjoy?
salt and vinegar chips are my oldest friend. I also love minties and redskins (but not while my mouth is still hurty). Tsatsiki and corn chips. Sashimi with soy and a really fresh wasabi.

4) Things I would do if I were a billionaire?
Hmm. Pay off house. extend house so Monkey has room as well as my stash and maybe space for kidliwinkles one day. Pay off car. Get hitched. Restock the school library with textbooks that arent growing fungi. Retire early and set up a yarn store/ book store / cafe with classes on spinning, knitting and specialist techniques and really good chairs. Fund research into alternate fuel sources. am i broke yet?

5) Places I have lived?
I lived in my parents' house in Qbn for 21 years, my bundah home for nearly 2. I realise I am very, very lucky to have moved only once.

6) Jobs I have had?
Sales assistant in Childrenswear department of Target. Sales assistant at Kookai. Volunteer at St Vinnies. Sales assistant at Hidden Treasures, little womens boutique in the Woden Hospital (HELL). Sales assistant at ReVamp in Qbn, selling antiques and collectables. Am now an English teacher at a Canberra High School.

7) Peeps I want to know more about?
Elizabeth Zimmerman, Jane Austen, Eleanor Farjeon, Ringo, Marilyn Monroe. If you want to be tagged and have get to do this then go forth, but I ain't tagging anyone.


Peace,
Ms Spider

Welcome to High School

As I’m sure I've mentioned on this blog before: I don't really 'get' girls.

I grew up with boys and really didn’t have to deal with any girls on a regular basis until primary school. This came as something as a shock to the system. There were bizarre power games, manipulations, bitching, put-downs, theft of intellectual property... and these were from my friends! By the end of year 6 I gave up on being in the cool group and just pissed off. I spent my lunchtimes volunteering in the school's Special Education Unit. I read every book in the school library that wasn't about trucks or dinosaurs. I knitted through recess. I was teased without mercy, but suddenly I didn't care: for one thing, the people teasing me were no longer pretending to be my friends.

With a certain amount of naiveté I began High School. In some respects I think I started a little ahead of the game. After putting up with crap from my 'best friends' for years I'd pretty much come to conclusion that if someone didn’t like me it was their own problem and I didn't need to knock myself out trying to please them.

On the other hand, I went in with the expectation that everyone should have grown out of it by now. Fair to say: silly error of judgement.
Don't get me wrong: I still have some female friends whom I met in High School and they are gorgeous people I wouldn't trade for anything. But there was a hell of a lot of crap that went on. Mostly to do with the notion of popularity and the desire to get it.

One event really stands out for me. A girl moved to our school from NZ at some point and was sort of quiet and dorky and desperately awkward. She was fairly universally shunned but my little group of friends and I adopted her. This was partly because we were the 'geeks' and basically the bottom of the food chain and also because I think we all felt genuinely bad for her. I'll call her M.
M took a little while to come out of her shell, but after a month or so she really blossomed. As a fairly confident person (and someone who moved around the different cliques a fair bit) it often came down to me to organise 'us' and M suddenly became very friendly. Everything I did was 'so clever', I was 'so pretty', an 'artistic genius'. If I was planning to do something, M was planning to do it to. To be honest I found this weird and kind of creepy, but figured it was just her way and she was obviously trying to be nice.
One afternoon when I was doing my rounds of the other groups of friends and acquaintances, M attached herself to me. And suddenly I realised what she was doing.
Thinking back, I still find it hard to believe some of the things she said and did, the lies she told, the... ham-iness of the whole thing. This girl was the biggest social climber I have ever met. She clung to me until she had established herself as at least as cool as I was and then moved on to the next cool-er person.
The thing that really drove me crazy was that no-one else could see it. Not until they'd been left behind, anyway. Because as long as you had something she wanted, namely: the phone number of Cooly McTrendsetter or an invitation to The Party or intimate knowledge of Hot Russel's taste in music she was ridiculously and convincingly nice to you.

I got pretty bored with M and while she still swung in and out of our group, I paid very little attention to her. I am a confronter at the heart of me, and it took me a good deal of deep breathing to get to a place where I could just let her be.

The final straw was the last year of High School. My birthday and M's are a week apart and I (as usual) left my planning til the last minute. I was in the process of working out a weekend when it suddenly occurred to me that I ought to check with M so that we didn't book up the same day (we were still friends, I just refused to be engaged in so much of her... look-at-me anymore). I called her and her mother answered the phone. It was quite noisy.

M was having her birthday party. I was maybe a little offended but thought little of it until Monday - after all, she had a fairly extensive social group now and I had no idea who was there. For all I knew it was a family thing, because she had a lot of cousins.

On Monday at school, however, it became apparent that M had invited everyone in our group except for me and another girl (who had disagreed with M's politics the week before). The group was irrevocably divided by this: some of the invitees asked us where we had been, some clearly knew we hadn't been invited and couldn't decide who was at fault (had we picked a fight or was this M being a bitch?) and the other girl and I were livid.

The party wasn't the issue. It was the blatant disregard for the wellbeing of the group. Many excuses were thrown around; "assumed you would be too busy", "never occurred that you'd be interested", "didn't realise you were friends with X,Y, and Z too" but neither of us ever bought it. And the group was never quite the same. Those girls who had gone without knowing about the whole exclusivity were put into impossible situations, particularly as M couldn't let an opportunity to brag about the awesome-ness of the party go. EVER.

I still wonder what her object was: it had to be obvious that this would cause people to be hurt, offended, embarrassed and angry.

This two-faced-ness is one of the things I have always found difficult with other girls. By and large, men don't say they like you if they don't. Unless they are trying to sell you something, they aren't overly nice to you if they don’t like you. Men don't tell you your haircut looks great and then say you're out of your mind as soon as you've left. And they don't have boys night's out and leave behind a couple of blokes for no apparent reason.

The reason I mention this all is that I have yet again been reminded of my own naiveté. I've left High School, College, and Uni and out in the Real World, in the Work Force, I guess I didn't expect there to be any M s left. Over the last couple of months there have been people in my life who have done things that are increasingly insensitive, all the way to down-right bitchy. Now, I know that there are bastards everywhere, in every profession, Hell, some days it's all you can do not to trip over them. But I thought I was past having to watch out for my mates.


Since I am increasingly reminded that some of us never left High School, I thought it was time someone offered a survival guide for this old-new world. Just in case you feel yourself being sucked in.

1. Sitting with the 'cool kids' is not something you can put on your resume. Do you remember what happened to the popular, well-dressed and achingly beautiful people after High School? They dropped out, had eating disorders, died in car accidents, OD-ed, had four babies before they were 20, got herpes, got depressed and committed suicide. A few got out too. I ran into a girl I went to High School with a couple of months ago and we ended up having coffee. "Oh my God" she said when school came up "I was such a dick-head!". Quite.
2. You are never going to be the most beautiful/best dressed/best dancer/best knitter/most popular/coolest etc etc etc ad infinitum. People were better than you for years before you were born and will be better than you for years after you're dead. If you really want to be remembered for something worthwhile (and apologies if I sound like Dr Phil) then try being the best you. The time Cooly McTrendsetter (name changed to protect the guilty) deigned to speak to me in food tech will be forever overshadowed by the note someone slipped into my locker "It's all going to be ok", though the former was the talk in the girls change-room for weeks. (Here's a tip: truly generous, caring people don't feel the need to tell everyone how generous and caring they have been. And sending a gift to Nicole Kidman in the hope that she mentions you in a press release is hardly altruism).
3. Don't hang your sense of self-worth on being the most beautiful/best dressed/best dancer/best knitter/most popular/coolest etc etc etc ad infinitum. Beauty fades, fashions change, ankles snap, yarns won't frog, people get bored etc. However, if you want to aim for a sure-fire way of spending the next thirty years in a perpetual state of misery, desperation and self-loathing then go right ahead. But there are much nicer ways to go through life.
4. You can't be popular and well-liked. The concept of popularity and celebrity basically requires a small group of people to be held above everyone else. If you are not a film star or a Nobel Prize winning geneticist, then creating your very own small group above everyone else is a pretty quick way to piss off everyone you do not choose to include in your celebrity group. Think Paris Hilton: talent-less, boring, irritating, tasteless biddy who only makes the news because she damn well makes sure she does. If we place next to her someone who has actually earned her celebrity (you know, by doing something well and being generally gracious and human) like Kate Winslet, Paris looks so cheap and nasty and desperately look-at-me that it's a wonder anyone likes her. Why would anyone aim for this sort of celebrity?
5. You can't please everyone. That said, when it comes down to choices, you're better of trying to please the people who rally around when it all goes to crap. When it comes right down to it, it won't be Mischa Barton showing up at your doorstep with a casserole dish because she thought this week had been a bit much for you.
6. Groups of women are delicate things. It is unreasonable to move into an office, befriend everyone and then start excluding people left, right and centre. You don't have to like everyone, but if you are all in the same group (and within earshot) then not including Josie from the desk in the corner in morning tea is guaranteeing yourself a tense and unhappy work environment. Having a group of women who work well together and enjoy each other's company is a precious thing and needs to be nurtured. If you don't like someone, just lump it for the good of the group. I'm sure someone lumps you (see point 5).
7. If you are going to be exclusive and have your own little Special Parties, keep it to yourself. It's fairly rude to tell everyone about how great the thing they weren't invited to was. Particularly if they are your friends/colleagues/cubical buddies. If it was great, then great. Does it only feel great if you get to broadcast it?
8. If you are not a celebrity now then you probably won't ever be one. Don't knock yourself out about it. Do you really want to go down in history as that chick who pashed her brother? Honestly. Think about the poor hapless creatures who emerge from the Big Brother house, desperately trying to cling to fame, open a supermarket, "look, I left my knickers at home LOVE ME!!!!” This is not something to aspire to.
9. Do what you need to do to keep yourself sane (see entire post). Stewing over things does not help. Get it out of your system, say what you need to say and move on.
10. When all else fails, there's always yarn.

Some of you might know what I'm getting at here. I realise these things are often split-second decisions and it's not til afterwards you realise you built your house in a swamp. But having the grace to admit that you made a mistake is just as good as having the foresight to not make a mistake in the first place. And despite all the pitfalls of women, chances are these people are your friends.

We're in this together, and in order to successfully graduate from High School dramas we all need to listen, think and apologise when we have to.

It's the grown up thing to do.


Ms Spider

this way madness lies

my friends, I have to tell you: I am wreckage. I have 2 1/2 days of anti-biotics left and i'm still coughing my lungs up hourly. I've been back at school for the last three days and i'm SO behind. I mean, my classes are fine and everything but i've done nowhere near the amount of marking i wanted to have done by now. Is making me crazy.
So tonight i am at home, marking essay drafts which i will return to my kids at the Swimming Carnival tomorrow. Marking essay drafts is not a sanity-forward type activity.

I am not a fan of the whole sports carnival thing. When i was at school as a student i was always a conscientious objector. As a teacher, that doesnt go down so well. So i've nominated myself for patrol of my house area. Apparently this is a crappy job, but i quite like playground duty and i dont want to encourage the kids to feel crappy by being a judge. yech.

and before you ask, there is no way in hell that i am going swimming. I do not need my students to see my cellulite, thankyou so very much!

A few people have asked recently exactly how big the stash is. After recent binge-ful events there has definitely been some stash explosion. It may have tripled.

This is my yarn room, also known as the spare room (if Monkey is in ear-shot) or Vic's room (during the reign of terror). Those two boxes contain sweater quantities of yarn that are not in original packets. Is that weird? Plastic bags just dont stack the same way, and they dont make zip-locks big enough. The two baskets in the background contain happyspider hand-dyed and spun for the obdm wool day this year :D
This is the cupboard that was the wardrobe in this room. You will notice large quantities of woolbale (which i am a fan of) and merino spun, also lots of pale yarn for dyeing. there is also spinning fibre and assorted odd-balls.
This is my cupboard in the office. See what I'm saying about yarn packets stacking so nicely? This is my pride-ful cupboard, containing all the yarn i want on hand to inspire me. left to right, top to bottom by stack. Top-ish shelf: Anchor Magicline cotton and some Katia Arc en Ciel; 4 packs of Zara and 1 pack of Me, 2 packs 8ply cotton, 3 packs Patons Dreamtime, 1 pack merino et soie, a few straggling balls of Me for Mum's cardi, some white moda vera bamboo/cotton; 7 packets of Zhivago.
Middle-ish Shelf: 7 packets of Jet; 2 packs white Inca 3 packs machinewash 8ply, 1 pack machinewash 5ply; 5 packs cleackheaton country, 1 pack white Inca; 2 packs of cleackheaton country 12ply.
Bottom shelf: basket of handspun and some cotone; moda vera supremo, paul and harmony; moda vera paul, katia espiga and moda vera merinos wool acrylic; 6 packets of harvest 8ply.
Tubs underneath - sock yarn, laceweight and odd balls.

none of this covers the stuff i intend to sell on or dispose of somehow. There are five giant boxes in the living room that are either being listed on my ravelry sell page or else i might cave in to eBay again soon. If only to get my living room back.
now that my full sickness is displayed I feel somehow less dirty. So I am cleansed - at least til the next binge.

I leave you with a few thoughts from some essay drafts I am marking (five points if you can tell me what the novel is):

"Ralph, as a head, is very calm at the beginning of the book."

"If and when they are broken or are not followed, the society will most likely fall and crumble and people will go their separate ways which does not do well in trying to achieve one amalgamated group."

"Jack would rather have stayed on the island as long as he got his protein."

Think calm, well structured, grammatically correct and sane thoughts for me...

Peace out,
Ms Spider

PS. How unfair is it that my house colour is yellow? i own no clothing that colour, precisely because it looks awful on me!

blech

So I went to work on Tuesday.
This was apparently a Very Stupid Thing. I am now worse. I have not stopped coughing for 24 hours. and yes, this made sleep awkward, nay, impossible.
my throat hurts, my lungs are crackling and squeaking and wheezing and every single cough hurts my whole body - clearly i am too flabby for tummy-crunches, even sickness induced ones.
cough lollies arent working, cold and flu tablets aren't working, even the ridiculous size of my stash (all of a sudden) hasn't helped.
I think it's bronchitis or pneumonia. the earliest appointment i could get is tomorrow afternoon and if i havent ripped out and eaten my own liver by then through sheer frustration then i think i'll have done well.
Yeah, sleep deprivation makes me cranky. sorry guys.

the last of the stash arrived on monday and tuesday. There is a lot of crap, as was expected, but i did well too. lots of sweater quantities of 8ply in colours i can wear, 6 packets of Jet, 4 packets of Merino Spun... lots. Anyone who looks at friends activities on Ravelry has every right to be shocked. I'm trying to feel guilty, really. But it's just... i was looking through some old knitting mags today and i realised - i have the yarn to make every thing i like in this stack. I can even choose the colour! pretty happy about it :)

I'm not going to post pics... yet. if you need a shock you can go see my flickr account... that's where new stash starts and if you work back to page one you'll see the recent uploads. this may take a while.

I dont think i got tagged but everyone's doing it so i'm going to.

7 Things
1. I am apparently wired so i really get a buzz off full packets of yarn. You know, the original manufacturers bags with 12 in them, all neat and dust-free... goosebump. Even the ickier novelty yarns... that new bag thing. sick.
2. I love teaching essay writing. Well, essay argument planning. I think that too many teachers do it in a really painful dry way and i love getting up there and scribbling all over the board and arguing about which episode of the Simpsons we can use to exemplify Homer's abusive behaviour, etc.
3. I am really driven to squeeze blackheads and pimples. and i dont get that many. I find it really distracting if i'm talking to someone with a blackhead on their nose... and usually it's not because i'm grossed out and i want it to go away... i just want to squeeze it. Pity my Monkey.
4. I like the smell when you strike a match.
5. I've never smoked anything - except when i was 6 and i rolled a gum leaf up in a piece of newspaper... this may be WHY i have never been driven to smoke since.
6. Despite now having several very good female friends who i adore, i don't understand women. I find it very hard to figure out what is expected of me... men are simpler really. So i often come across as aloof, bored or kind of... conceited i guess, when really i just feel awkward.
7. I don't drive (see previous post).

ok. brain dead now. am going to try to sleep semi-upright on the couch to help with the coughing. grump grump grump

Ms Spider