Right now, I'm listening to the song, "Up," by shania twain. another good, "cheer me up" song. we in the world really need it. I finally finished my dang thesis! aaaaaaahhhhhhh! finally! It's even a little over 10 pages! I edited it and everything! I'm gonna make a cover page, and then all I need to do is a bibliography, and I'll be done with the dang thing! yippie!!!!!
On Thursday and Friday, I was miserable. Wednesday, too. now that I think about it, I didn't laugh for about 3-4 days! augh! I need to laugh, especially in AV writing, or else I end up getting depressed. It isn't that AV writing is so bad I need to laugh, but that it's awfully funny. It just is. I have no idea why! In any case, in the entire day, that is the only time I really laugh in a "true" way. fake laughter is just not that fun. The song is done, and this post will be. I just need to also add that I finished Mr. Z's daughter's sweater, and I need to buy the little roses and sew them on. I also need to wash the swatch for Stephen's hat, since his Birthday is the beginning of November, and I need to find a pattern for Becca's hat as well. pip, pip, cheerio!
:)
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Saturday, October 11, 2008
How life has been, and my idea for an invention
Life has been good to me, granted. But then again, everyone can say that. And everyone can say that their life sucks. It's just how it works. Anyway, let me start with my latest knitting news.
I bought a bunch of pink yarn for my History teacher's daughter. He wrote a check, and I went and got it. I also got some lovely purple variegated yarn, with 3 different purples, for a scarf for my favorite teacher this year: Ms. Gill. She's my Advance Writing teacher. And just like I'm (as of now) obsessed with Sherlock Holmes, she's obsessed (and has been since College) with Shakespeare. Her birthday is coming up, so I'm gonna knit her a scarf, and embroider Shakespeare on it.
I gave my Sherlock scarf to my cousin, Beth, for her birthday. It was Tuesday. She said on Wednesday that she loved it. I'm glad. Because I would've loved it, too. (sigh) that's what I get for not keeping up with my cousin's birthday.
I also bought felting yarn for Stephen. He insists that I felt a hat for him, and he wanted it pure white. Well, too bad, Stephen. The bleaching of the yarn, I'm told, ruins the felting process, making it impossible. I wonder if they bleach wool to make it washer-friendly. anyway, I got a good ball of it, and now I can knit a swatch. His birthday is a while off, which'll give me time to focus on Jalisa's bear.
She's been bugging me about knitting her a specific bear. Last year, I went all out with teddy bears, and I think I may have knit 5 before I stopped. After all, I wanted to do more than just bears. They were good practice, though, in learning other stitches. So were those lace washcloths mom made me make. But the funny thing is, the things that did me the most good I hate to no end. I swore never to knit washcloths ever again, and vowed I'd never touch the teddy bear book I bought. It's just too hard to find the glass eyes (I know, I know, I can embroider them, but that's not the point). Anyway, so that's a project that I'm trying to avoid. And of course, her birthday happens to be in October. Sheesh, everyone's birthday is in October!
Speaking of Birthdays, Peter loves his sweater, and I made Scottie Day cry at seeing her daughter's handmade sweater. They both love 'em, and Scottie even promised to hand wash it! (I can't say the same for mom, but you never know.) Peter loves the muffler pockets, the ones that let you put your hands together. I also found out where he got this obsession with hoodies; Ben Terwilliger. The way Peter says, it's "Bentwiliger," and apparently he's the boy fashion model. He's that kind of kid that apparently has everything, and Peter wants what he has. Sad. Peter can be awfully shallow sometimes, but I guess that's expected because he's only 7.
I've been thinking about writing a book called "The Pocket Pack" or "The Pocket Patch." It'd be about making sweaters that you can adapt to anyone. I want to read Elizabeth Zimmerman, if I'm going to do it, though. The pattern I'd use will be based off her, and I want to know about her so that it won't be like I'm copying her without even knowing her. The book would have my stories about my first, second, third, fourth, fifth, and possibly next 12 sweaters and their stories.
Well, I think I exhausted the knitting subject, so let's move over to something else. My writing. I know what you're thinking. "Oh boy, here she goes again, complaining about her writing," or "Oh I hope she won't be all 'my writing's the best'." I won't. I actually got a card today . . . wait, a story goes with this. I'll start with my dad.
Dad doesn't like to be ordered around. By anyone. I called down for him to clean up his omelet mess (his den is, sadly, downstairs) and he comes marching up, telling me to stop yelling, and asking me if it's so hard for me to clean it up myself. I called down because Mom is always after me, and has been since I knew I had stuff, about leaving messes around the house. I've gotten better, and the Kitchen is one of the places where I try to keep it clean, because Mom works mostly in the kitchen, and she hates to have a crowded kitchen, especially since our kitchen is particularly small for a 6-kid family. So I thought he should have to clean up, too. After all, it's not that hard. But no, dad wants us to do it.
So, he yells at me, and I'm really sorry. but I've been told that saying sorry isn't enough anymore. So now, if I "tell him what to do" at all, or even call downstairs, he's gonna fine me $10.
Later, mom told me that if I'd been wanting to get back at my dad for being so unreasonable (and he was being unreasonable) I already had. See, my net-name is Cimorine, and no other. So all the Ravelry Friends send their mail to Cimorine. Dad didn't know I was Cimorine, and thought they'd sent it to the wrong address. And so he was on the net, trying to find out who this Cimorine person was, until mom came downstairs and told him gently that Cimorine was me. what do you think of that!
Anyway, so I finally got the letter, and it was from someone who'd read my writing, and liked it! (specifically, they read my blog) I was astounded! befuddled! I'd kinda lost morale in my writing. but now it's back. so thanks, writer. you made my day.
I know this has turned out to be a long post, and I'm sorry. If you want, feel free to skip. It's long and boring, I know. I haven't been blogging, so I'm kinda depressed. College, etc.
OK, finally, my idea for an invention. It'd be a mind-writing machine. You'd attach it to your head, and it'd record your thoughts. they'd have to be specific, like. "Cimorine went to the store to get some groceries" etc. Think how much easier people could make Autobiographies. I am fully convinced everyone has a story to tell. I think about that a lot, which is dorky, I know, but it's interesting. why is that person so mad at the gas station? what's going on in his life? why is it going on?
why does that person look so bored? where is he going on the bus? so many questions. not that I go up to people and ask them. and I don't. really, I don't. So, that's my life, lately. thanks for listening, or reading. whatever. I feel sick now because I remembered I have to fill out that stupid application! oh well, back to life.
I bought a bunch of pink yarn for my History teacher's daughter. He wrote a check, and I went and got it. I also got some lovely purple variegated yarn, with 3 different purples, for a scarf for my favorite teacher this year: Ms. Gill. She's my Advance Writing teacher. And just like I'm (as of now) obsessed with Sherlock Holmes, she's obsessed (and has been since College) with Shakespeare. Her birthday is coming up, so I'm gonna knit her a scarf, and embroider Shakespeare on it.
I gave my Sherlock scarf to my cousin, Beth, for her birthday. It was Tuesday. She said on Wednesday that she loved it. I'm glad. Because I would've loved it, too. (sigh) that's what I get for not keeping up with my cousin's birthday.
I also bought felting yarn for Stephen. He insists that I felt a hat for him, and he wanted it pure white. Well, too bad, Stephen. The bleaching of the yarn, I'm told, ruins the felting process, making it impossible. I wonder if they bleach wool to make it washer-friendly. anyway, I got a good ball of it, and now I can knit a swatch. His birthday is a while off, which'll give me time to focus on Jalisa's bear.
She's been bugging me about knitting her a specific bear. Last year, I went all out with teddy bears, and I think I may have knit 5 before I stopped. After all, I wanted to do more than just bears. They were good practice, though, in learning other stitches. So were those lace washcloths mom made me make. But the funny thing is, the things that did me the most good I hate to no end. I swore never to knit washcloths ever again, and vowed I'd never touch the teddy bear book I bought. It's just too hard to find the glass eyes (I know, I know, I can embroider them, but that's not the point). Anyway, so that's a project that I'm trying to avoid. And of course, her birthday happens to be in October. Sheesh, everyone's birthday is in October!
Speaking of Birthdays, Peter loves his sweater, and I made Scottie Day cry at seeing her daughter's handmade sweater. They both love 'em, and Scottie even promised to hand wash it! (I can't say the same for mom, but you never know.) Peter loves the muffler pockets, the ones that let you put your hands together. I also found out where he got this obsession with hoodies; Ben Terwilliger. The way Peter says, it's "Bentwiliger," and apparently he's the boy fashion model. He's that kind of kid that apparently has everything, and Peter wants what he has. Sad. Peter can be awfully shallow sometimes, but I guess that's expected because he's only 7.
I've been thinking about writing a book called "The Pocket Pack" or "The Pocket Patch." It'd be about making sweaters that you can adapt to anyone. I want to read Elizabeth Zimmerman, if I'm going to do it, though. The pattern I'd use will be based off her, and I want to know about her so that it won't be like I'm copying her without even knowing her. The book would have my stories about my first, second, third, fourth, fifth, and possibly next 12 sweaters and their stories.
Well, I think I exhausted the knitting subject, so let's move over to something else. My writing. I know what you're thinking. "Oh boy, here she goes again, complaining about her writing," or "Oh I hope she won't be all 'my writing's the best'." I won't. I actually got a card today . . . wait, a story goes with this. I'll start with my dad.
Dad doesn't like to be ordered around. By anyone. I called down for him to clean up his omelet mess (his den is, sadly, downstairs) and he comes marching up, telling me to stop yelling, and asking me if it's so hard for me to clean it up myself. I called down because Mom is always after me, and has been since I knew I had stuff, about leaving messes around the house. I've gotten better, and the Kitchen is one of the places where I try to keep it clean, because Mom works mostly in the kitchen, and she hates to have a crowded kitchen, especially since our kitchen is particularly small for a 6-kid family. So I thought he should have to clean up, too. After all, it's not that hard. But no, dad wants us to do it.
So, he yells at me, and I'm really sorry. but I've been told that saying sorry isn't enough anymore. So now, if I "tell him what to do" at all, or even call downstairs, he's gonna fine me $10.
Later, mom told me that if I'd been wanting to get back at my dad for being so unreasonable (and he was being unreasonable) I already had. See, my net-name is Cimorine, and no other. So all the Ravelry Friends send their mail to Cimorine. Dad didn't know I was Cimorine, and thought they'd sent it to the wrong address. And so he was on the net, trying to find out who this Cimorine person was, until mom came downstairs and told him gently that Cimorine was me. what do you think of that!
Anyway, so I finally got the letter, and it was from someone who'd read my writing, and liked it! (specifically, they read my blog) I was astounded! befuddled! I'd kinda lost morale in my writing. but now it's back. so thanks, writer. you made my day.
I know this has turned out to be a long post, and I'm sorry. If you want, feel free to skip. It's long and boring, I know. I haven't been blogging, so I'm kinda depressed. College, etc.
OK, finally, my idea for an invention. It'd be a mind-writing machine. You'd attach it to your head, and it'd record your thoughts. they'd have to be specific, like. "Cimorine went to the store to get some groceries" etc. Think how much easier people could make Autobiographies. I am fully convinced everyone has a story to tell. I think about that a lot, which is dorky, I know, but it's interesting. why is that person so mad at the gas station? what's going on in his life? why is it going on?
why does that person look so bored? where is he going on the bus? so many questions. not that I go up to people and ask them. and I don't. really, I don't. So, that's my life, lately. thanks for listening, or reading. whatever. I feel sick now because I remembered I have to fill out that stupid application! oh well, back to life.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
