Friday, July 09, 2004
Thursday, July 08, 2004
Rarrrrrrrrggghhhggghhh!



I knitted a yeti finger puppet, that's right, and I'll do it again if I have to! Don't make me do it! Don't make me! Why are you prejudiced against yeti?
Yes, as you can tell, I'm fooling around and goofing off and not knitting anything I said I would. I'm knitting finger puppets and swatches of new patterns, and weird stuffed cats, basically just being a dork. I promise I'm going to finish the tank this week, though and cast on either Bella's thing or Jessica's...so, pictures soon of authorized projects, or else no ice cream for a week!
Monday, July 05, 2004
Knitting Rock-Along news
And now, totally negating my rock-along wannabe coolness, shots of my latest project, the dread knitted kitty from Woolworks:




Don't worry, I'm heading right over to Knitty and making myself a corset or something.
Irony.
Friday, July 02, 2004
Mr. Yuck advises you not to read ahead...
See, what happened is, about three weeks ago I was at my friend Jessica's house, and I had been at my grandma's house for a couple weeks before that, and I started spotting. I spotted for about a week, including the last few days I was at grandma's, and the whole 6 days I was at Jessica's. Then I had a regular (for me) 4 day period. Which led me to belive I was starting menopause (at 27, no less, it has happened to my kin before) and I should immediately have my uterus removed. Then I forgot about it. Figured it was a normal deviation and nothing would come of it. I mean, I've had irregular periods nearly every month since I was 11.
Then, three days ago, I started spotting again. And I'm still spotting. I'm talking incredibly heavy flow for oh, 2 minutes. With cramping. Then nothing for 6 hours. And repeat. For 7 days. Plus a regular/heavy 4 day normal period. So e-mail me now with your donation pledge to the "Remove Kellye's Uterus" fund, because I'm not putting up with this shit too much longer.
Tuesday, June 29, 2004
Remember when you used to be a teenager...
Desperate Rain
I feel so desperate and angry sometimes,
sometimes i want to rasp my heart and die,
the rain is so sorry-ass and sad,
the clouds sound like Kali.
I feel so desperate and angry,
nobody understands my redemptive, gloomy pain,
I want to ride and chase in the rain
the rain reminds me of feeling angry, the clouds mock my regret,
sometimes i want to rasp my heart and die,
underneath the sorry-ass, lowering sky
believe it or not, I actually discarded the first one and chose new words after I understood how the script was going to use my choices...how lame...I'm a Mad Libs nerd! P.S. The site is run by a girl named Laura who seems pretty cool...visit her sidebar and at least try out her other "mewlibs" and visit her store...and click on "advice" under "fun" and get some advice. You need it. I know you do. I did.
Saturday, June 26, 2004
No post today...

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...
Distraction tactic
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.
Friday, June 25, 2004
this is what it sounds like when doves cry
Yeah, so I had a big date with 11 Lone Stars last night (as Jessica would say) and they convinced me to take a nice little driving tour of the county between 3 and 5 AM. I didn't do anything wrong or get arrested, or kill anyone, or drive in a ditch, and I remember being content except for wishing I had more beer and a few ciggies...and a date, but whatever. You go trolling for sexual healing around here after the bars close you're likely to end up living in a trailer and appearing on Jerry Springer before your next birthday.
So I got home safe, went to bed, and got up at noon today to help mom with all the ladder work in the kitchen. Did you know that if you, while hungover, climb to the top of a ladder, look straight up for a while with your arms over your head, then look back over your shoulder, you will swoon immediately? Now you know.
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
I'm closing in on the Shapely Tank.
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Sunday, June 20, 2004
Awesome!
Also, since I'm apparently on a cut-paper jag today, go here to make your own beautiful and unique snowflake. It was kind of hard to get the hang of it, but I figured it out and so can you. And check out the gallery for millions of...unique snowflakes.
In addition, not really on the paper-cutting topic but sort of, here is some good practical advice all of us could use, in an easy-to-understand format.
And finally, totally abandoning the theme, take your dog and hie the unto Dogster, for Pete's sake!
That is all.
Saturday, June 19, 2004
I'm learning to knit continental
Rosebud Actually
And, of course, being a child of my generation, I am trained to think of anything shown in black and white as a "classic" movie (not that that means anything now that Rocky has entered the oeuvre), an experience in cinema, a brilliant work by a directorial auteur beyond compare.
Which makes watching Love Actually on this tv a little jarring. Not that it's a bad movie, it's plenty fun and great, but Hugh Grant boogieing down the stairs in the PM's Residence is no Citizen Kane. Y'know?
The other thing I'd like to talk about, concerning Love Actually, is the use of color to signify emotions, but it turns out everything is significant when seen only in less-than-a-minute flashes. Never mind.
Friday, June 18, 2004
I gotch'er knittin' right here...

Thursday, June 17, 2004
Weeee-haawwww!
Okay, here's something...

Anyway, I made a post a while back about how excited I was to be knitting these and I thought I'd show a picture...
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
Strange but True
Oh, if you're scared of what sort of diabolical information I'm collecting on you, e-mail me from the link up there and I'll give you the info you need to look at my stats. I ain't got nothin' to hide.
Oh, and in case you were wondering, the 50 megs thing didn't work out. Why? I'm a retard. Yep, that's the reason. As I was browsing through the photo contests on Fark and B3ta, bemoaning the lack of a free, easy image hosting solution, the answer came to me like a...like a...like a guy on the message board talking about the free, easy image hosting at Photobucket.com. Why am I so stupid?
I'm not as smart as the dumbest monkey.
In which I abuse my (?) readers and bemoan my brother's car:
Non-Insured California Dickhole Totals My Brother's Audi, Nearly Kills Him, and Dissapears.
Check it out--
BEFORE:


AFTER:




I would show you pictures of his stiff neck and numb arms and hands, but those kinds of things don't come across as well in photos. He really is hurt, tho, he went to the emergency room after an hour or two and they sent him right to physical therapy. And they won't let him drive or go to work (he's got three jobs!) for a few weeks, then he can only work a few hours a day and only do "essential" driving. And they've given him all kinds of serious "has a street value" narcotic painkillers. Which he won't share. His neck is killing him, he has to take them so he doesn't scream continuously, and he hates taking medicine, so it must be really really painful, blah, blah, blah. He's so selfish (I kid! I kid!) Yep, he's really hurt for real. I know, I thought he was just a wussy at first too, but I found out different. I could show you a hilarious picture of my cousin Terri and I throwing french fries at his face and him not being able to duck (from before we knew his injuries were so serious, I assure you) but some total drunken idiot deleted them trying to take an evidentiary picture of the greenest hotel bathroom on Earth. Really, it was soooooo seafoam green everywhere I was afraid I'd driven through a time warp into 1953.
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
knitting knews
  
Coming later today: a fascinating explanation of how my image hosting solution was literally something a monkey could have figured out all along; pictures of my brother's beautiful Audi before and after some total hosebeast from Cali totalled it and nearly killed him and disappeared with no insurance; pictures of several new and old projects with excruciating, link-ridden explanations of exactly how I'm knitting them; a discussion of Arizona's "The Thing?", and approximately three uses of my new favorite word, 'dickhole,' for which you can thank Jessica.