Saturday, June 26, 2004

No post today...

Yeeeehaw!  I finished up the front!because I don't feel like it. I know that's dumb, posting about how I'm not going to post, but I feel like I'm here at the computer, I can't just ignore the blog, but I really don't feel like writing anything. Tho, I apparently do because I am.
I finished the front to the Shapely Tank and cast on the back, I'm about to the second complete wrap row and I'm having serious 'second sock syndrome' because my hands are tired and I already did this once. I guess at least this time I don't have to do the bust short rows. Unless I get any fatter. And you know I'm already planning the next one, so I don't know why I'd balk at the back of the first one. I'm such a dork. Anyway, I might also cast on for this cute little knitted cat I found on Wool Works. There's no picture, so beyond the basic idea I get from reading the pattern, I have to knit it to know what it looks like. I have some cute cotton yarn in a sort of peachy-to-ivory variegated that might make a cute little tabby. We'll see. And I want to start the front of Noah's sweater, but I don't have a single pair of 6 needles, which is what I need for the ribbing at the bottom. I can probably do it with 5's or 7's, but I kinda want to do it exactly right. Oh, screw it. I'll just cast it on and it'll eventually get knitted. I guess the headline is kinda redundant now. Whatever. There's a good funny post about sex, about three posts down on my other blog (the myspace logo in the sidebar) and you should check out Mighty Girl (also in the sidebar under People/Blogs) because she's awesome. Okay, I'm done not posting. Good night!

I'm in love with a man named John...

I e-mailed Blogger Help last night around 3:30 am about my problem, carefully explianing that I did it mucking around in the template tag and I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was. Then I went to bed, hoping against hope that when I woke up it would be magically fixed by some manner of magic. And it was! I had a polite and helpful e-mail awaiting me from a person named John, who not only explained what I had done wrong, but had fixed it for me. I love Blogger and I love John! That's right, his name is John, not Tom.

Distraction tactic

I've got some kind of weird error in my template that's causing each post's font to be half the size of the font in the previous post, so that by the bottom of the page a 500 word rant appears as a single, fine line under the headline. And I can't find it. And it's driving me insaaaaaaane. So I'm going to write about something else until the pounding, pulsing pain in my brain goes away.
One good thing is, it hasn't been raining much today. I saw on the Weather Channel that we had 7.5 inches. This week. Please send water wings and Pina Coladas.
And I took some pictures of me I kinda like. I mean, I look like what I look like in real life, instead of what I look like in my head, so obviously they're totally unsatisfactory, but aside from that and from my camera never, ever, ever taking a focused picture, and from my need to overcompensate for the fact that I couldn't take a squared picture to save my life by making everything cockeyed, they're great.
I hate when my fingers go off the home keys, because I'm totally lost for about 20 keystrokes, just type, backspace, type type backspace trying to figure out what's wrong, and I can't just look down and see what's wrong because if I do my high school typing teacher will leap out of the shadows and disembowel me. And then usually my poor fingers get so disoriented I hit insert instead of backspace, and then I'm really fucked. At that point I know something is really wrong, cause I'm hitting the whole wrong group of buttons at that point, so I snatch a quick look at the keyboard (while clutching a kitchen knife) and stick my hands back on the right keys, and when I start typing again insert is turned off, so when I look at the screen at the end of a paragraph, the place where I jumped back to edit looks insane. Yeah.
Our cat Kelvy had a feral mom and has lived at our house since he was born. When he was about a year old, someone in the neighborhood hurt him really badly so that he can't use one of his front legs, it's broken at the shoulder joint and hangs limp. Or, I should say he can't walk on it. He can move it and he uses it like a hand. It's creepy. Anyway, we kept him in the house for about 8 months after he got hurt, helping him get well, and when he was as healed up as he was going to get, we had him fixed before we started letting him go outside again. But by that time he was two years old, and it didn't change his behavior much. Right now there's two slutty cats in heat circling the house yowling for him to come out and service them. I kind of like the idea of him being the safe-sex gigilo of the neighborhood.
Okay, I feel better now. I'll go do one more hour of troubleshooting before I go to bed, and maybe it'll be fixed before anyone reads this.