Really, it's just keeping me in line

Last week, I think I was starting to get a little scared. You see, it's almost the new year. January. And I said that I would contact a realtor after the first of the year. Which means over the next couple of months I will (hopefully) be making one of the largest purchases of my life. Alone. On an income from a job I don't know if I want to keep. I am grateful for it, and I have every inteention of doing the best that I can at it. I'm just not sure it's a good fit for me.

So I was feeling a little scared. And comfortable in the situation I'm in. After all, I have a nice, comfortable home, and I don't pay for anything.

Ok that part makes me feel a bit badly.

But this weekend, I am back on track. By 8:30, I was getting REALLY cranky with the talking heads. I like football, in small doses. The TV went on at 1 pm. After the Dallas game, Poo said I could change it. I thanked him and started watching a movie. then BR came over. and the TV flipped back and forth between my movie and the football game. I could have gone and watched TV in Poo's room, but I don't have enough room to spin in there. (and I don't hand out in other people's bedrooms) And I was on a spinning ROLL this weekend.

Then Clint came over. Third day in a row. Which means Poo and my little dinner turned into a bigger production. And as the beer got consumed, the conversation got louder. BR left not long after the conversation turned to work. Finally, I couldn't handle the work talk anymore. I don't want to spend my weekend talking about it. When I am off, I like to forget I have a job. It's something I have trouble doing because I have a tendency to be a workaholic. By Sunday, I start worrying about getting up on Monday. The projects I need to check on. The everything that needs to be out of my head when I am not at work so I don't get burned out. I am good at distracting myself from work thoughts. Until the beer starts pouring and the discussion starts. It's not just when Clint is here, but he does contribute.

I finally had to go to my room and shut the door. Turn on music so that their voices don't come through.

And I am reminded that I need to be out on my own. In my space. Quiet space. Doing the things I love to do without worrying if I am in someone's way, or whether I will have unexpected visitors. (Clint doesn't call, he just shows up, which I probably wouldn't mind if I liked him)

For that reminder, I also remember to be thankful. Because I believe that my frustrations this weekend are the Universe's way of telling me that I need to stay on track. I have faith that I am going in the right direction with my away-from-work life. (yes, even with Cowboy) I have faith that the right home will be available at the right price, and that the job situation will be solved. The one I have came along to get me into a situation where I could buy a home and make something of my soap. It took me in a new direction completely, but it doesn't have to be permenant. I can't just sit back and let these things happen though, that's not how the world works. This weekend was a kick in my butt to get me moving when I was tempted to stop. For that I am greatful

I havve decided

That I need a drum carder. (this is a gaget that will make my wool processing easier)

I am fortunate to have been gifted with many, many pounds of unprocessed Alpaca fiber. Soft, luxurious, warm, Alpaca. It is pretty clean but not ready for spinning. I can card a couple of ounces each night before I start to get blisters on my hands. It will cost at least $10 per pound to have everything processed by a mill. I am also exploring the idea of trading fiber for drum carder time with a local spinner who has one. As soon as I find one.

So, I have decided that I need one. They are really expensive. (for me) This isn't a "need" as much as a home is a need so I will NOT dip into savings for it and I certainly WILL NOT use my credit card. That is, after all, how I ended up in debt in the first place. Instead, I will be doing what I did when I started saving for my car. I'll be collecting loose change in a can. (yeah, I walked into the car dealership with my can-o-two thousand dollars. I am ca-lassy!) You know, whatever is in my wallet or comes in "extra" goes into the can. I wanted to create a widget on my blog so you can follow along with me (this is a tool that helps keep me on track. otherwise I forget what I am doing. I have to make up "games" to keep me focused. You would be amazed at how I have learned to cope with the way my brain works this way) but I ran into the same old issue. I couldn't find one existing, and I don't know how to make one.

If I understood HTML, if my brain didn't shut off every time the term came into play (I once checked a book out from the library to learn it but couldn't get past the first couple of pages. HTML for kids? nope. I'm just not language savy) I would be making my lovely widget right now instead of just talking about it. I would also have made my website beautiful by now instead of fucking around with widgets.

Current savings: $19.05 and 9 balls of felted wool. I think I am going to go couch digging. because right now I am 4/10 of the way there and I am feeling really optimistic!

I'm going to go play with Excel to make myself a graph. Graphing on Excel is fun.

Blessings

Upon Jestertunes who distractedme from my pissedoffedness with fun starry goodness. I didn't solve all the puzzles, but this time, there was a more important goal. sadly, I think Clint is here for the night.

Dear Clint

Won't you please go now?

You come to my house. You feed Poo beer. He drinks enough on his own. tonight you brought TWO twelve packs and a fifth of Jack. Poo. I think, he had been planning on a quiet evening with his wood carving. I really wanted to play with my spinning wheel and maybe my new ball winder and swift combo (thank you Nana and Grandpa!) and was a little dissapointed when I realized that I had my Bad Girls of Craft meeting tonight. Until you showed up. Then I was glad.

I don't like not liking you. Especially when you tell me what a quality person I am. And since I went strait to my room when I got home, you entered my bedroom to do it.

This is my space. It's all I have to call "mine". I don't allow people in my room, usually. BR comes in. I don't really mind. He doesn't stick around. he doesn't take up space. But I didn't really want you in here. You don't know that. One would hope that the 40 pounds of alpaca fiber blocking my door would have stopped you.

It's 10 pm. And I want to go to bed now. Not because I am tired. Not because I don't have other things I want to do, not because I wouldn't rather be out in the common area crafting. Because I don't want to hang out with you.

times like this, I wish cowboy and I had a spend the night kind of relationship. that I could have called him while I was out and gone over there instead of comeing home and dealing with drunkiness.

Instead, the TV is loud, the trash is overflowing, someone burned the popcorn, and I am trapped in my room.

Befriend the girl holding her pointy things

I never knew that knitting would make me so many friends. Apparently, there is something soothing about a woman and her yarn. And 12 inch metal sticks with semi sharp points on the end.

You see, knitting needles are legal on airplanes. And THANK GOODNESS for that because I don't know what I would do with myself otherwise. Especially on return trips when I have finished both the books I took with me. On the way there, I had nice conversations with a woman while we waiting for our flight. Then I made friends with another woman on the way. Within 5 minutes, she gave me her business card with her personal number on it. She would like to accompany me on my explorations of the great state of Nevada.

Then, on the way home, I got another phone number but since this one was from someone I already know, it doesn't really count. Honestly, if ever we should meet, part, and then meet again, don't be angry if I don't recognize you. My brain is so filled with useless information (did I mention that Santa farts pepperminty? speaking of farts, someone was farting on the plane on the way home and it wasn't me. I think I was having premonitions because all I could think about on the way to SD was what happens when someone has gas on the plane) that I can't remember important things like what people look like even if I have met them several times. ANYWAY, the lady next to me chatted me up all the way home, which was cool because she was nice. She did not give me her phone number. I'm okay with that.

Writing this, I am wondering if they befriended the girl with the pointy objects because who better to know if a terrorist takes over than the person on the plane with sharp pointy objects? after all my scissors could prick a finger. I feel so used. But in a cool superhero sort of way. It appears that I would have knitting needles hanging out of my utility belt. and um, yarn cuffs, yeah.

I think I am going to have to revise my superhero outfit. thankfully, my new utility belt does not get in the way of my kung fu hair and vice grip thighs.

Crap. I just totally lost my train of though while trying to find the superhero posts then link to them. fuck it. goodnight.

Thursday

I decided not to go to the work party. There are several reasons for this.

My friend Vicki is not going. Which means I would not have anyone to play with. I don't do well in social situations without someone to cling to and Flo and I just aren't that close.

This saved me from having to buy a new dress. Saving money is a good thing, especially since I plan to contact a realtor after the new year.

I need to pack

Before I pack, I need to do laundry.



So, I'm prying my shoes off my feet when Cowboy calls. Chat chat, bitch about work, chat, ok bye. We'll talk again after I get back, and no, I didn't ask if he didn't want company tonight. Generally, I would, but I am feeling stubborn and if he wasn't offerin, neither was I. But it was nice to hear that he had not pulled a fade away, and perhaps things will be back to "normal" when I return. It's like I told Vicki, I go through this about once a month. So roll your eyes and I will update you if anything changes.


In happier news, I FINALLY updated my links. There are so many blogs that I read every day and I just wasn't getting around to linking to them even though some of them have links to me (ahem, puntabulous) so there they are. It's about damn time.

This, that, and another thing

I'm really looking forward to flying South for the Winter (holiday).

Last night I was smart enough to pull Jack off my window before I rolled it down to get money from the bank. When I rolled it down to order El Pollo Loco, I forgot again. The stick and cup is now lost somewhere in door land. Jack is now rolling around in my car. I'm sure I will find him several years from now and I will have a good laugh.

Work is pissing me off a lot lately. I have been venting onto Twitter. it's fun because I can't blog from work, but I can text Twitter!

I have been out dress shopping for something to wear to my work party tomorrow. The current fashion is not flattering on me as usual. Reno does not have any good clothing stores, and I have champagne taste. Since I have not purchased a dress, I went down to the garage to see if there might be something near the door (I have many, lovely, flattering gowns that I would be thrilled to wear. If I could get to them...) I didn't find a dress, but I did find my pin nailer and a few other things I have been wanting. I have to agree with my mom on this, when I do finally unpack, it's gonna be like Christmas.

Speaking of the Holiday party tomorrow, I really wanted to ask Cowboy if he would escort me. There are three reasons for this. I like his company, I'd like to have a date, and perhaps if I show up with a date, it would help dispell that lingering rumor that I am Poo's girlfriend/mistress, whatever. I admit, I forgot to ask last week like I intended. I called Monday with the usual "seein whatcha doin" message. I never heard back. Perhaps he is busy. perhaps out of town. perhaps he really did pull a fade away, something I had hoped he was above. Thing is, I go through this every couple of weeks. things are great, then he falls off for a day or two and I convince myself it's over. Then he calls again. And that is how it's been. I don't talk about it because I know that you all have opinions on the subject and honestly, there's nothing you can say in any way shape or form, from any direction that I have not said to myself. And the beat goes on. So tomorrow? I will be attending my company party on my own. I'll be sure to post pictures in my gown because I plan to look fantastic. I'll sweep (ahem...trip) into the room with my head held high and smiling and I will have a great time with my coworkers.

Clint showed up the other night. All full of "I missed you"s and bearing stuffed animal gifts. I tried to be gracious. I did not wipe my cheek when ke kissed it though I dearly wanted to. He stayed for several beers. I didn't really have much to say. I don't really know what to to with the bear (I will likely donate it) since I'm not really a stuffed animal kind of girl. Drunk Monkey is not a stuffed animal, and anything else I have has sentimental stories. (Like the dog I bought my grandmother while she was in the hospital to keep her company) It was a nice gift, but the part of me that is still angry because he disspointed me so much doesn't want it. I know I should be forgiving, but generally, when I decide I'd rather not see someone again, I mean it. So when they wander back into my life, it's difficult for me to accept them back because they are out of my head.

Why don't I decide I never want to see Cowboy again? I don't really know. I like him as a person and I enjoy his company. It's actually rare that I don't want to keep someone around. It's not like we bicker all the time like Biker Bob and I did, I just know that he's a bit here-today-gone-tomorrow. I just realized that perhaps I was nervous about making plans with him because they rarely go through. He might be feeling poorly, or something comes up. All our outings are always spur of the moment. And asking him to the party would have meant plans. Plans that might have been cancelled. Leaving me devestated because in my head I had a date and in reality, I didn't. Better to go alone, then. I rarely dissapoint myself and I sure know how to show me a good time!

Christmas memories

So frequently, the stories I tell of my childhood (though rarely here, as this seems to be more of a running commentary on the wackiness now, instead of the wackiness then) are filled with the kind of ugliness that I hope I would never visit upon my children. Don't get me wrong, I was blessed in so many ways, but it wasn't always pretty.

So, I'm watching a comercial for Walgreens tonight, and there are two children searching the house for their Christmas gifts. Seeing only Walgreens bags, they go away without finding them.

I remembered suddenly, that I never peeked. I believed my parents when they told us that they would know. That the presents were boobie trapped in such a way that they would see any tampering. That if we peeked, there would be no presents. Since I knew that my parents were older and smarter than I, (I was not yet a teenager) I believed them.

I cannot vouch for my siblings, but I was always surprised and delighted on Christmas morning to find that my parents had provided gifts that I had either asked for, or never knew I wanted. The electric train when I was 10 (I JUST gave that to my nephew. I hope they were able to get it working) that I wanted so badly (my flute teacher made fun of me for wanting it. I never understood why a girl couldn't have an electric train) The new Bike. A skateboard.

It must have been thrilling for my parents when they saw me surprised, to know I still believed they were smarter, and to know that in this one thing, I was obediant. They always made sure that the wrapped gifts were interesting enough to keep us guessing for weeks.

I'm looking forward again this year to the excitement of shaking presents. My mom is the queen of adding nuts, bells, rocks, and cans of soup to throw us off. Some things, as always, are obvious. Books (but which one???) Pillows. The unmistakable slide of clothes in a box.

For me, Christmas isn't about the birth of Christ. It's about spending time with my family and friends. It's about anticipating their delight in gifts I choose carefully. About being tipsy before noon, eating See's candy for breakfast, and taking a nap under the spell of Bing Crosby. My mom's roast beast and my sisters' smiles. Harassing my brother and the cat.

I know that these special feelings were planted carefully and fostered by my parents. With every threat, they were teaching us the joy of anticipation. With every set of flannel pajamas, the delight of a simple gift. And each Christmas, I felt loved and special. There's no greater blessing than that.

HNT-Am I nuts?

I've posted pictures of my boobs, up close. I've posted pictures of me in my bikini. Pictures of all sorts of HNT me. So why does this one make me nervous? (I see London, I see France...) Maybe it's the knee socks. They're provocative...

Your Karaoke Theme Song is "Baby Got Back"

You're a total show off who is willing to risk looking like a fool to get a few laughs. In fact, you'll go for the cheap laugh if you need to... because it's better than no reaction! Your friends can count on you to get a party started, and you'll party hard until you can't remember their names. You're charismatic, charming, and a total character. With or without a few drinks in you. You might also sing: "I Touch Myself," "Oops I Did it Again," or "My Humps" Stay away from people who sing: "Candle in the Wind"

What's Your Karaoke Theme Song?

Serious points to the person who can guess which of these Karaoke blockbusters I HAVE sung. Yes I was drunk, no I don't have a recording, but I sure wish I did!

I'm a dork.

Remember the Jack antenna ball? Did I mention I have one? Did I mention that I tried to stick it to my forehead? and no Seester, there were no unfortunate marks like that one time. (in hindsight that's a hilarious and classic story)

So, it didn't stick to my forhead. but I was noticing on the commercial the other day that the little stick was bent. So I bent mine and stuck it to the window where jack could talk to me while I drive. Shut up, he talks to me. Said something just this morning, but I forgot what it was. Oh wait, He said I should turn his head so he could look out the window. But I was driving and then I forgot.

Then, today, I forgot he was there. and I rolled down the window to use my gate key. I managed to save jack because his head is too big to fit in the window slot. But the suction cup is now wedged in the door jam window slot. And it's snowing.

Revelation

That people seem to forgo the acceptance of an individual in order to gain the acceptance of the group. I know it is human nature and part of the need to belong to your village, to not alienate the herd, but I must remind myself not to do this to MY friends.
Not that I have a herd. Never really have. They tend to turn me out too. And I've learned to live without them. I would rather be loved by a few than tolerated by many.

Accomplished!

I made a hat! it is not wonky! Now I will make another one that actually follows the pattern. heh.

PS Daddy got a job. I am so very pleased.

Bits and pieces

It's snowing, in case you haven't been keeping up with me on Twitter (which is the coolest thing since cookie scoops and stoneware.) Right now, two days into the storm, I love it. I saw real snowflakes today. They looked just like I always thought they should. Tiny and perfect little ice crystal formations. previously, all the snow I have seen has either looked like styrofoam balls or just chunks of icy stuff. Today? perfect crystals. gorgeous.

Meanwhile, I laid down in said snow and tried to make an snow angel, but it was too icy and I just got wet. Which was funny in and of itself.

I've been knitting like crazy. But I don't follow patterns very well. This might be one funky hat.

I had more to say but I have forgotten what it was.

Yarn Porn

In the comments section of my last post, Rick suggested that I start posting my art. I explained why I don't, and promised pictures. so here are a couple of yarns I have spun (and some roving I dyed) that I am particularly proud of.

I dyed this with easter egg dyes. The yarn came out lovely but I didn't take a picture. Sadly, the dye was not sun-proof.


Kool-Aide makes a damn fine yarn dye.

And there you have it. The reason I don't post my art.

like lead, really.

Something has been weighing heavily on my heart. Well, several things, actually, but I don't share everything. Public forum, you know.

Several posts ago, I was upset. I was venting. I was ranting a bit.

Because I do not want to be a hunter. (My fervor over this is something to be discussed at a later date) But that isn't what is bothering me.

Here's the thing.

Growing up, art was considered something wonderful. To be an artist was one of the greatest joys and compliments. It meant that you saw the world in a way that is both different and beautiful. It was not about painting so much as it was an open minded philosophy.

Now, I live with a person for whom the word artist is almost an insult. To him it means that you are flighty. Good for little more than decorating. Concerned about little more than flowers. One without logic.

I have allowed this thought process to poison me against who I really am. To the point that I denied something about myself that I once fought so hard to have recognized by someone I respect as an artist. For this I am ashamed.

I allowed someone to make me feel bad about what and who I am because it doesn't fit into his view of how people should act, behave, think. And although I respect this person in so many ways, he doesn't always act the way I think people should, but I try to accept that of him. It's not up to me to try and make a change.

It IS up to me to hold onto the things that I believe to be true. And Artist, as a label, IS NOT an insult. It means you see beauty in the world. It means that you make an effort to add to it whether by painting and drawing or creating an intricate hair braid. It means that you make a concious effort to affect the emotions of yourself and others. It means whatever you think it means too.

I feel so much better.

I vant one! I vant one!

https://www.mysharpie.com/sanford/consumer/sharpie/personalizesharpie/personalize.jhtml

Might be the coolest thing since personalized m&ms. Of course, I can never decide what I want to say when it comes to personalizing things (I really need to write that stuff down, because I can be unexpectedly brilliant and witty sometimes. In my head) so I didn't order any.

and now, off to the shower. I am gym-stinky. and hungry. but shower first.