Saturday, January 31, 2009

Dishcloth Review

When last we left our Intrepid Knitter, she had cautiously announced the start of a new project.  As she has had a rather ridiculous amount of difficulty with patterns of this nature since starting the blog and knitting publicly, she opted to go with the stealth approach.  The project goes by the code name: Dishcloth (with sleeves).

I have had exactly one successful sweater come off the needles since I started blogging.  This is due to The Dreaded Blog Sweater Curse and it is not something to be taken lightly.  Dark forces are at work here.  The last completed sweater went before the blogging audience back in the summer months so I thought that it might be a good idea to review the rules.  

Well...there was that little sweater that I knit for Great Nephew Sheep.  I almost hit the mark with that one.  But somewhere between casting on and reaching the neckline, the little booger outgrew it.  I think I would have actually had a winner had my niece not seen fit to give birth to Super Baby...

I think I've tempted fate enough with the set-up here.  Let's all start treading a bit more lightly.  The dark forces have been very much in evidence, you see.  I have already experienced a twisted cast-on and a mysterious hole which proved highly resistant to repair.  Following that, the knitting became twisted again.  You can see where I might be just a wee bit a-scairt at this point.  Why don't we go ahead and discuss those rules I mentioned earlier?

Sheepish Annie's Ritual Words With Which To Foil The Dark Forces Who Hate It When She Knits Things With Sleeves (patent pending):

1.  The item is question is, henceforth, to be referred to as "The Dishcloth."  Dishcloth knitting is perfectly acceptable to the dark forces.  

2.  Photographic evidence will be limited and sporadic.  Once you put something out there on the inter-webs, it is forever and for all.  The dark forces spend a great deal of time Googling.

3.  The "dishcloth" may go away, never to be mentioned again.  We accept this and do not question where it went.  We will all know where it went.  We will be too polite to mention it lest the knitter go mad with sorrow and stain her entire stash with tears.

4.  Should the "dishcloth" come to fruition, there will be great celebrating and comments are expected.  There will be some thumbing of noses at the dark forces, but let's not get carried away.  We may want to knit another "dishcloth" someday and the dark forces have very long memories.  They hold a grudge.  

I hope that these rules are clear and that we can all agree to abide by them until the dishcloth knitting is done.  And by "done" I mean for better or for worse.  I believe I have already mentioned the pitfalls that lie ahead, not the least of which being the limited supply of yarn.  I may not even be able to finish this thing even if the dark forces are off enjoying Spring Break at some moderately priced hotel in Florida...

This situation, of course, leaves me with little in the way of visuals, at least in the knitterly sense of the word.  Sadly, I now have to resort to the Panda Cam widget.  Sorry.  Those of you who cannot bear another image from the San Diego Zoo are excused so you can go somewhere for a cup of coffee and talk about my panda obsession in deliciously snide tones.  I'm cool with that.  I'll probably even join you later to chime in.  I do love a good dish-session!

Just leave the pandas out of it, 'kay?

Happily, the pandas were rather active last night.  They were all cute and playful which is just how I like my pandas.


Of course this happy domestic scene degenerated to some degree shortly after I did the screen capture.  There was a bit of a tussle over what I can only imagine was a rather choice stalk of bamboo.  It seemed pretty good-natured, though.  At least I think so.  Pandas always sort of look like they are smiling so it can be hard to tell.  

In fact, the next time I checked, I kind of wondered if maybe the whole thing had been more serious than I'd originally thought.  I hate to believe this, but it very well may be that someone pressed charges.  

Panda Jail.  

It actually looks more like the drunk tank, but I simply cannot bear the thought of a panda hitting rock bottom like that.  I choose to believe that this was more of a misunderstanding and that all the pandas have a solid understanding of what constitutes social drinking.  Otherwise, I don't think I could concentrate on anything else.

Actually, now that I think of it, that could maybe account for the weird hole in the dishcloth...


Thursday, January 29, 2009


I'm not normally the type of person who wallows in regret.  But, I'm only human and I sometimes can't help but wish I'd made better choices.  For example, I regret not giving myself a little more time this morning.  I thought I'd accounted for everything, but I really didn't give the ice that fell from the sky all night enough credit.  It held my car prisoner quite handily this morning and it took more time than I thought it would to free it.  

I regret not securing the key to my classroom more carefully to the lanyard upon which I hang it.  When you arrive at school in time for morning bus duty but with really only a minute to spare, you don't have the time to go hunting for that key that you just heard drop to the floor of the car.  You also aren't going to find it so there is really no point in wasting precious seconds.  You may even accidentally hit the panic button on your key fob when you lean into the back seat and set off the car alarm in front of a billion witnesses.  You should just toss your stuff in the closet next to your securely locked classroom and hustle down to the cafeteria.  Someone will unlock your room...eventually.

And don't even get me started on the decision to not clear the snow off the top of the car before leaving this morning.  Sure, the idea that the sun would eventually melt it wasn't entirely wrong.  But it didn't choose to fall from the roof until I was pulling out of the parking lot, late for a meeting 40 minutes away.  The resulting avalanche on my windshield was very impressive.  And who doesn't want to be the most hated person on the Maine Turnpike as gigantic, half-frozen snow clots fly from your hood at the cars behind you?  Good times...

Then there are the half-regrets.  The things that could have gone badly or still have the potential to do so.  Before I left for my meeting (late) the phone in my office rang.  It was the assistant principal wishing to discuss an issue with one of my students who had downloaded some, um..."inappropriate" material to his school laptop.  A great deal of it.  It is a delicate matter and required a great deal of discussion.  As I pondered our options, I said,

I mean, he's a really good kid but, sheesh!  You turn on his computer and all of a sudden it's like Bwah-Chicka-Wow-Wow.

The latter, done to the right beat, is the Universal Porno Soundtrack and, therein, lies the problem.  I believe there are moments of clarity in one's life.  These are good moments where you see everything exactly as it should be and the path is clear.  I like these moments.  But I sometimes wish that they occurred to me before I Bwah-Chicka-Wow-Wow the assistant principal, a man who is my boss.  That is the sort of thing that really could go horribly wrong.  Think about it.  It's not too difficult to see the possible outcomes.

Fortunately, the assistant principal happens to have a very good sense of humor.  While I clearly surprised him a bit with my sound effects, his bark of laughter indicated that I had dodged a bullet.  Good thing.  I was late for a meeting and didn't have the time to go to Sensitivity Training or read that Why Sexual Harassment Is Bad manual.

I say these things because I have cast on for a new project.  It is another one of those projects that has all the potential of a Regret In The Making.  It is also one of those things that we will only call a Dishcloth With Sleeves because we know that the dark forces are watching.  They do not like it when I knit things with sleeves, and we must be careful lest we attract their attention.

There is a real threat here, people.  I've already had to rip back due to an unfortunate twist in the yarn.  I am also 73.5% sure that I will run out of yarn before the finish line and there is no more of it to be had.  It really is a disaster waiting to happen.

But, if it works, it will be freakin' awesome, you guys!  Totally and completely awesome!  And if it doesn't, the yarn is alpaca.  Let's face it, the worst twenty hours you have spent knitting with alpaca are still pretty good ones, right?  It's worth the potential regret.

I'm still going to play carefully, though.  And maybe toss a Bwah-Chicka-Wow-Wow at the dark forces just to distract them...


Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Deep Thoughts

OK.  The thoughts aren't exactly deep.  It is, after all, the night of the Wednesday Night Bullet Post and nothing about that is ever all that soul searching.  But the snow is deep.  Very deep.  So deep that I am considering going all "bear" on the situation and hibernating until the seasons have something better to offer.  

While I continue to ponder that course of action, let us look at the bullet points for this week:

*For those of you who have been on the edges of your various seats, wondering just how it all went, take heart!  I will now share.

*Because I suspected it was going to be a snow day today, I had no problem whatsoever getting out of bed.  I leaped out from under the covers like a nine year old!

*Hence, I was able to see my school district scrolling across the screen at 5:00 this morning.  

*It is a weird convolution of bodily chemistry that makes us more willing to arise in the morning when we don't believe we have to go anywhere.  Tomorrow I'll be right back to the same sluggishness come 5:00 in the a.m.

*I went out there long enough to take out the trash and to move my car.  That's it.  Lots of snow.  

*Sheepie stays inside.

*Sheepie is not going to be able to find her car tomorrow.  

*Sheepie is going to be late for morning bus duty since there is no way school will be cancelled again.  

*Now that Sheepie thinks of it, she also needs to stop for gas.

*Maybe Sheepie will be very late and get fired.  That would solve the whole getting-up-in-the-morning problem...

*A snow day is very good for all things fibery.  I finally managed to get a daylight shot of the yarn I finished spinning over the weekend:

The color is still off, but I'm tired of trying to capture its beauty.  Some things were just not meant for bloggy eyes, I suppose.

*The fiber was part of a comment contest prize package sent to me by Jane a while back.

*Very soft, very squooshy, very pretty!  And it spun like a dream...

*Very happy yarn!

*Speaking of Happy, I also finished a pair of socks today!  

Happy Pink Socks, no less!

*And I finished them in time to wear on that second trip out to move the car.  

*When I say that these socks make me happy, you have no idea.  "Happy" may even be an understatement.

*I may have already mentioned the snow.  Not sure I brought up the cold...

*This WNBP really does seem to be a salute to Jane.  That yarn was also in the prize package she sent me.

*It's been all Jane, all the time around here for a while!

*Today, Jane kept my feet warm.

*I got have waffles for breakfast this morning.  Snow days are nice.

*Making up snow days is not so nice.  I have to go to school on those days and I don't get waffles.  

*If you hate me right now for being able to stay home, just sit tight.  Pretty soon I will be all sad and waffle-less.  

*And it will be really hot.  And I'll still be teaching children who do not wish to be in school any more than I do.

*I give you permission to laugh at that point.  Just not to my face.  I will probably be a little touchy.  

*To reduce the chances that people will laugh at me in June, I am not going to mention the nice nap I took this afternoon.  That would only add fuel to the fire.

*Cold medication.  I got all sleepy and couldn't help myself...

*Seriously, you guys.  I have no idea how I am going to find my car tomorrow.  This concerns me.

*Not enough to go out into what is now sleet to clear it off a bit, mind you.  Just enough to worry about it, is all.

*I am so totally not going out there.  Weather is not my friend.

*Although it does do a nice job of keeping me home with the knitting.

It seems as though it is time to take another dose of the sleepy cold medicine.  If nothing else, it makes me not think about my buried car anymore.  I will deal with it tomorrow, hopefully well before departure time since I have that pesky morning bus duty at 7:00. 

But that is tomorrow and very far away.  For now, I will just enjoy having had a day at home and not going out in this mess.  Bus duty and buried cars don't fit into that mindset.

And maybe we will have one of those Delayed Starts tomorrow.  That would solve the problem...


Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Just Leave The Bottle

I have decided to have one of those good ol' fashioned Whine And Cheese Parties.  The dairy portion of the festivities was taken care of at dinner time when I toasted up a couple slices of the cheesy bread I made over the weekend.  That was nice.  And now all that's left is to pour out some liberal servings of Whine.  

The First Vintage Of The Evening:  GSOM

The General Sense Of Malaise continues, although now there is a noticeable increase in the aching of the joints.  I'm stuffy, sore and grumpy.  And I still can't convince a single soul at school to send me home.  I put on my best show, periodically holding my head, shivering a bit and softly groaning.  Nuthin'.  Not a single soul stepped up to say that I should really be at home in bed.  

Finally, having exhausted my Award Winning Repertoire Of Sickly Behaviors, I resorted to simply saying, "I do not feel very well today."  I said this loudly and repeatedly.  Again, there was little in the way of response.  Unless, of course, you count nine million phone calls, meetings and demands for my attention as responses.  If you do, then I suppose you could say that I was responded to all over the stupid place.

But this was not what I wanted.  I wanted sympathy and I wanted it NOW, by God!  What else was there for me to do but simply state my needs?  "Excuse me, but I have been shivering and groaning until my throat has become parched and not a one of you has suggested that I go home.  What does a girl have to do to get some of that sweet, sweet sympathy around here??"

The teaching staff ignored me for the most part.  No one really enjoys the day when I am not there.  Not because I am so delightful, but because my students are less so.  Everyone suddenly becomes very busy when I am not in school to ride herd on the little darlings.  

For the record, the kids were quite enthusiastic about my leaving for the day.  That was nice.  Except that I don't really trust their motives...

The Second Vintage Of The Evening:  More With The Frozen, Falling Flakes Of Doom

I've mentioned before my thoughts regarding low pressure systems and the effects they have on children.  I may have also mentioned my general distaste for weather, particularly the kind that gets in my way or makes me have to go out and move my car.  You can only imagine my joy to see this little gem of a forecast:

No.  We are all set with snow for the moment.  This will not be necessary.

It is very bad form to predict a snow day, especially when the storm is expected to start after 7:00 in the morning and could allow us all to get to school safe and sound.  However I think that, given the amounts we are looking at, it is fair to say that at least part of tomorrow will be spent at home.  

I like the "home" part.  It's just the extra foot of snow to which I am objecting.  That seems a bit extreme.  We already have snow, lots of it.  Adding another foot is just mean-spirited.

The Third Vintage Of The Evening:  Auto-Dial

When you are feeling a General Sense Of Malaise, have spent your day dealing with students who are fighting off the effects of a low pressure system and are dreading the thought of having to drive to and from school the next day in a blizzard, getting a call from the school at dinner time can really lift your spirits.  Why, they may be canceling early just to get ahead of the crowd!  How very thoughtful of them!  Now I don't need to worry about dragging my Malaise out of bed tomorrow so I can drive in a blizzard to face the "spirited" students who actually want me to stay home so they can plan their coup.  I'll just lie abed like a proper Sickly Person and not have to set the alarm at all!  Oh, that school district!  Always thinking of me...

Auto-dial is a tricky thing.  You get calls for everything the school district is thinking about, not just cancellation notices.  Tonight I was treated to the mellifluous voice of my principal (seriously...he's had vocal training) while he shared with me the joys of Financial Aid Night!  Should I desire information on how best to fund my non-existent children's college experience, I should really plan to be there.  I listened to the whole message just in case there was a cancellation at the end of it.

There wasn't.

On the bright side (yes, there always is one if you look from the right angle) it really does seem unlikely that I will be teaching for a full day tomorrow, if at all.  My Malaise and I can sit at home where we have been trying to get people to send us for two days now.  If that is the case, it seems very, very likely that I will finish a sock.  I honestly don't see any way around it unless I don't knit at all and who doesn't knit at all?  In the worst case scenario, I'll get it almost finished...but there is no way that I won't be somewhere in the vicinity of the finish line tomorrow.  And then I'll have a pair of Happy Pink Socks!  Happy Pink Socks are just the thing for a girl dragging around a big ol' hunk of Malaise, right?

Maybe I'll even be wearing them when the rescue dogs come to dig me and my Malaise out of the snowbank we will no doubt be trapped in when we try to move the car...


Monday, January 26, 2009

Sweet Diversion

I know that people have varying opinions on the flu shot.  Some say it is the equivalent of immortality.  Others believe it is death in a vial and the end of civilization as we know it.  I can understand both points of view and deny no one their right to tend to their health as they see fit.

That said, I just don't get as sick as I used to now that I submit my arm to the spike each year.  I can't say for certain that this magical injection fends off everything that comes at me while I slog my way through each school day.  In fact, I tend to think that this is me giving the shot superpowers that it doesn't possess.  I don't really care.  I just like not getting so sick all the time.  That is what we call, "the up side."

The down side is that, while I don't get horribly ill, I do get little bits and pieces of whatever is going around.  It used to be that I could predict the path that my illnesses would take.  First, I'd feel a general sense of malaise.  Next, the actual symptoms would arrive, typically in the form of snot.  Lots of it.  Finally, there would be great, whooping coughs which would startle all in my path and cause them to give me a very wide berth.  They would also start gently suggesting that I just go home before I spread the plague any further.

Now I have no idea what is going to happen.  Mostly, I find myself in the General Sense Of Malaise category and can only wait to see if it is going to get to the I Guess I'd Better Go Home phase.  It generally doesn't.  I usually just get better after that.  However, the GSOM is a rather tiresome thing and I miss being sent home sometimes.

I've been fiddling around with the idea of getting a cold lately.  But it just won't seem to bloom.  I'm tired and achy.  Sometimes I work up a sneeze.  My ears popped this morning when I was blowing my nose.  My throat is all itchy.  But, as of yet, no one has told me to go home.  Of course, this might be due to the fact that we only just picked up the pieces from the day I was out teaching a workshop last week.  However I can usually count on at least one of the more "motherly" types to step up to the plate when I am looking sickly and that hasn't happened.  Guess I'm looking just fine, darn it.

But I still think I might be sick.  A little bit, anyway.  Normally I am pretty jazzed about getting home.  Even if it is the day where I have to spend 45 minutes on the little exercise bike, I still prefer home to sitting in the car or being at work.  I don't tarry.  I wrap up the teaching day, point the car north and make haste.  I can knit upon the Happy Pink Sock while I ride the little bike, right?  Home is a good place and a one I'd like to see sooner rather than later.

Except today, I opted to stay behind a big truck rather than pass it.  I liked being behind this truck and liked the idea of telling people that I was behind this truck.  Further, I was hoping that this truck was going to my house and thought that I could cause it to do so through sheer force of will.  To do that, I needed to stay behind it. All thoughts of Happy Pink Socks and other home-based comforts were banished from my mind.  I was wholly absorbed with driving ten miles below the posted speed limit in order that I might remain right behind the truck.

It was a Lindt Chocolate truck.  And it did not go to my house.  Nor did it hit a bump and suddenly drop its load which would have fit nicely with the back-up scenario I developed during my extra long drive home today.  

Not rational.  Not reasonable.  Not conducive to getting those socks finished in a timely fashion.  Not the sort of thing that gets me back home and on the exercise bike like I'm supposed to be.

But I certainly think this pattern of sluggish logic fits nicely with the idea that I might be coming down with something.  If the sneezing and General Malaise don't make people send me home, perhaps my belief that I can cause chocolate to fly free from secured vehicles is enough to buy me a sick day.

I should really stop at the store tomorrow for some chocolate.  I'd hate to be stuck home sick without some of that and it's not like the trucks are cooperating...


Sunday, January 25, 2009

I Planned Ahead, If You Can Believe It.

It was a near thing.  Had I not thought to plan ahead for my Sunday post, I would have been left with only screen captures from my Panda-Cam widget with which to entertain.

The pandas were very active today, but that might not be as interesting to you as it is to me...

However, knowing that today was not going to be a very productive day from a fibery standpoint, I took pictures last night so you wouldn't be left thinking that I have a panda obsession.  (The fact that I do happen to have a panda obsession notwithstanding) My plans for the day were happy ones, though.  And there was cake involved so I am assuming you will understand.

Today there was a gathering of Sheep which included myself, Mommy Sheep, Baby Brother Sheep and SIL Sheep (who bakes chocolate cakes with multiple layers and topped with nuts in case I have never mentioned that fact).  We came together in order that we might celebrate the birth of one Daddy Sheep.  We are most grateful for this birth because:

1.  Without a Daddy Sheep, there would be no me and then what would I do with all those cute shoes I bought?

2.  He is a very good Dad who selects and puts together spinning wheels.  

3.  When he has a birthday, we get to have the aforementioned cake.

Go ahead and wish him a Happy One if you want.  He reads the comments, you know.  Apparently, the overwhelming need to check out with whom your daughter is hanging doesn't go away once she reaches adulthood.  (and then some...)  Plus, as I mentioned, he happens to be a rather fine example of a Dad.  He even lets you take home some cake after his party.

But you can see how the more fibery aspects of my day might have been neglected.  However, as I mentioned, I did not forget the purpose of my blog.  (This time, anyway...)  Here are a few of the things that have gone on over the weekend:

I started spinning a merino fleece that has been resting comfortably in the stash for a while.

I'll explain more about this project as I go along.  Suffice it to say that it is not going to be the most stunning yarn at first.  When faced with the choice of further carding (which it needed) and instant gratification with a less polished single as a result, I took the latter route.  Every once in a while, I like to do something that has a more homespun feel to it.  Trust me.  You will like it when it's all knit up.  Until then, I will understand if you are thinking that I have lost my mind, not to mention my ability to spin.

I finished plying some very, very colorful yarn:

It's still hanging up to dry and all that...but you get the idea.

Were it not for the timely intervention of bloggy friends, I would probably have skein upon skien of yarns in naught but browns and blues.  Thankfully, there are those who gift me with fibers that challenge my tentative sense of color and the result always makes me very, very happy.  And on a day like today, with temperatures well below freezing, some nice warm colors feel rather nice.  I love, love, love this yarn!!!!

Lastly, I remembered to snap an Obligatory Cat Picture.  I know that this is important since my roommates do not care for being ignored.  I may have mentioned the freezing temps.  We do not wish to alienate those with fluffy furs and ample belly fat for added warmth come bedtime.

I'm not naming names or calling anyone fat...I'm just saying that there are those around here who have reached a certain level of "acceptance" regarding body image.

There.  Cake, cats, projects of a spinning nature...I think I've covered everything.  Planning ahead is always a very good thing.  It also helps immensely when you happen to have been in a Birthday Cake-Induced Coma since about 1:00 and still don't have a darned thing ready for tomorrow morning's start to the work week.

But I do have leftover cake.  At least breakfast is covered.  Again with the planning ahead...


Saturday, January 24, 2009


I have had one of those epiphany thingies that sometimes knock me upside the noggin.  I know how much you enjoy it when I come around to the obvious...

It all started when I arrived at school Friday morning.  No.  This is not a story about how, by 8:00, the whole place had turned into something resembling a horror movie with everyone suddenly being struck down by some dread disease and having to leave before they either mutated or puked on the floor.  The tale of how those of us left behind to try and tame the savage student body failed miserably in spite of our valiant efforts would probably be kind of entertaining.  But that's not what this is about.

It's about The Teacher Who Covers The Cafeteria Until The Rest Of Us Start Regularly Scheduled Morning Duties.  I enter the school by the cafeteria door every day since it is the only one open before 7:00 so I greet her each morn.  I know that she is a knitter because I've seen her doing this and we've even spoken of the craft once or twice.  She is a very nice lady and some of her students are part of the every-other-week-bowling-group that the district sponsors so we coordinate transportation together every once in a while.

Yesterday, before all the drama with the Dread Disease Of Doom started, we were still fairly optimistic about the day.  She happened to notice my fingerless gloves as we were rhapsodizing over Friday's educational potential and asked about them.  She even thought she might try to knit a pair if they weren't too hard.  "Where," she asked, "did you get the pattern?"

"Oh," said I, "it's the Maine Morning Mitts.  They are right out of The Knitter's Book Of Yarn."

Blank Look

Seeing that I may need to offer up more in the way of direction, I added, "I'm pretty sure you can find it on Ravelry.  They have a link to everything in the whole, wide world, after all!"

Even Blanker Look.  Yes...that actually is possible.

Now I am flummoxed.  I have to really dig deep to come up with something else that might help her to find the pattern so she can knit it over the weekend.  I'd have offered to loan her the book, but that would mean going home again and it's a forty minute commute.  I didn't think my principal would approve a Knitter's Leave Of Absence.  Even a short one.  Finally, I managed to come up with:

"Um...there used to be a pdf out there somewhere.  You could maybe, you know...Google it or something."

The terms pdf and Google seemed to register.  I got a bit cocky at that point and thought that I'd maybe found the right path.

"Yeah," I said enthusiastically, "I saw that one on someone's blog once and that's how I ended up finding it myself now that I think of it...have you ever read (insert name of blog that I can't remember referencing here)?"

Back to the Blank Look.

Here's the thing:  Most people, it seems, are able to knit unfettered by the interwebs.

  I know.  It's crazy!  

But there is a whole movement out there devoted to knitting without any understanding of how a photo upload and storage site will enrich their lives.  They don't have to write code in order to center a picture of a half finished sock.  They have never participated in a knit-along or a swap with people they've never met before.  And, wait until you hear'll just die...they don't know that they have never been to Rhinebeck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was in a complete kerfuffle all day long.  If I hadn't had the situation with the eighty-five million sickly staff people fleeing the building, I don't know as I would have made it until the final dismissal bell.  I probably would have had one of those Cerebral Events I keep saying I'm going to have, but never really get around to.  It is so perplexing...

To each his own, I suppose.  To them, I am probably just as alien and exotic-looking what with my on-line connections and Ravelry screen name.  Although I tend to doubt it.  The Nice Lady's very, very Blank Looks lead me to believe that she is more inclined to think I am hallucinating or that I live in one of those Second-Life type places and am slowly losing any connection to the real world.  

Or maybe it's a combination of those things.  I dunno...  I got distracted by the visitation of The Plague upon my school district so I never got to ask her.  Hopefully she was spared and lived to see the weekend.  I can ask her on Monday.

At any rate, I happen to like having my knitting life sort of melded with my digital life.  It keeps me honest while I am working on projects since people are checking in to see how things are moving along.  Except when it doesn't keep me honest and I simply pretend that a WIP never existed or tell everyone that there was a tragic needle explosion which took out the poor hat upon which I was knitting.  Otherwise, it is a pretty good system for keeping track of the projects

And we mustn't forget that there are so very many other things you can force people to look at when you live online for part of your day.  I recently completed a three-month marathon of soda drinking that did not involve my beloved Mountain Dew.  I was drinking an alternate brand in order that I might download free music using secret and mysterious codes hidden under the caps.  Hence, I have been able to gather up all sorts of tunes, the type to which I used to boogie down back in the days when I could do so without my hip making that weird crackly sound.  Further, I can upload video of these gems (sometimes centered, sometimes not) and cause the few young, hip readers I once had to run screaming to sites less moldy.  

I miss them.  But not enough to stop trying to find videos that capture the essence of my new playlists.  Sorry...

Cheap Trick - Surrender (Official Music Video) - Funny video clips are a click away

The interwebs are just cool! (even if you get the occasional video that just won't play according to code and center itself without lots of coaxing...)


Thursday, January 22, 2009

A Near Miss

The last month or so has been something of a battle of wills between me and the clocks.  I just can't seem to find one that is even remotely close to the ones that are in charge of me.  It's the school clocks that matter.  They hold the key to my success but the hour on all my other timepieces just never seems to match them.

 The clocks at home?  All completely different.  Each one suggests that I have varying degrees of leeway in terms of when I have to leave the house.

The clock in the car?  That one was way off.  I think it happened the last time I had the thing serviced.  It wasn't helping me at all with my daily routine.

Wrist watches?  Don't have a single one with a working battery to my name at this point.

Every Thursday morning, I must get myself out of bed and pull myself together in order that I might make the 7:00 a.m. bus duty for which I am scheduled.  It is generally expected that duty teachers be on time for this and clad.  In fact, I'm pretty sure it's in the teacher handbook.

I have had a difficult time with this.  The clocks have all been out to get me.  They don't want me to remain employed.  They want me to stay home and spend my days trying to set them for the right time.  

I've been working on it, though.  Although I've yet to get the timer on the living room lights set correctly since that last big power outage, I have managed to fool several of the clocks around here into playing the game with me.  It all started with setting a back up alarm clock that talks to some other clock somewhere in the west and which is bound by a great, moral code to be correct.  Then I set the "regular" alarm clock ten minutes ahead of that one.  The car clock was finally coaxed into something resembling five minutes ahead of time and now, while I don't know what the actual time is, I tend to be a bit early for morning bus duty.

See?  It's simple...

Of course, the whole thing hinges upon my remembering to set the "regular" alarm clock to go off at the designated time of awakening.  That is really the linchpin in the master plan.  It is also the one thing I did not do last night.  It could have been a real disaster.

However, I got lucky.  The clock that I forgot about saved me.  That would be that mystical thing we call the "internal clock."  Somehow, my internal clock knew that I couldn't pull off one more late arrival to bus duty and even hope that my fellow cafeteria monitors would buy into my excuses.  The internal clock, unlike all the other clocks, has a better understanding of the situation.  I suspect it might have something to do with the fact that it is a biologically based system and one that knows we need to stay employed if we want to keep feeding the battery.

Even better, I was the only one who managed to show up on time this morning for bus duty.  One guy never made it at all, for heaven's sake!  When the Assistant Principal happened to glance in, he saw naught but Ms. Sheep diligently doing her duty and keeping the children of the school district safe from possible cafeteria-induced injury.  I was a hero.  He expressed his grave concern regarding my taking on this great responsibility all by myself and vowed to rectify the situation immediately.  

He doesn't know about the three previous weeks during which I have been hopelessly tardy for my morning duty.  And I'm not telling him.  I simply cast my eyes downward humbly and said that I didn't mind being left alone to bear the weight of this awesome task.  I was certain that my duty-mates had valid reasons for being late and that they were probably on their way even as we spoke.  They are, after all, only human...

If you're not just a little bit ashamed of me, then you should really take a minute to look deep inside yourself and maybe check the settings on your moral compass.  I'd do it myself if I didn't have to put so much energy into looking all humble and self-sacrificing.  I don't think I can manage both things at once.  I don't even know if I have the time for that sort of thing what with the whole clock situation going on around here.

Yes, this has been a most confusing week.  There was a holiday on Monday, a change in my regular routine which kept me out of the classroom on Tuesday and any number of other scheduling dramas which rendered me incapable of figuring out what day it was after that.  But I do know that the day I have bus duty is the second to last one of the work week.  I now have a full and complete grasp of the situation.  Tomorrow is Friday!

I do believe that I will celebrate the arrival of the weekend with a little bit of sock knitting and maybe even see if I can't finish plying up the rest of the stuff on the spindle.  It's not every week that you get to work less time than usual, fake being a punctual sort of person at the expense of your colleagues and outsmart every clock in your life.  Heck, it's a regular fiesta around here!

We can also celebrate Daddy Sheep's most successful experience with eyeball surgery today.  The eyeball doctor was also having a good day and there was no near miss on his part at all. We are pleased with Dad's clear vision and the ease with which the whole thing was done.  Yay for Daddy Sheep!

I even had a little slice of chocolate cake tonight in honor of all this good fortune, a thing I rarely do on a week day.  But it seemed appropriate.  The Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty was also slightly more jubilant than was usual this evening, although he didn't want any cake.

The AGK makes his happiness known through the wild flinging and cavorting with his Dollar Store Cat Cave.

Less calories than cake, I suppose.  Although I personally prefer the chocolate.  Besides, cavorting around in a nylon tube might make me overly tired and then I'll forget to set the alarm for tomorrow...


Wednesday, January 21, 2009

WNBP: Because I Think That's What I'm Supposed To Do

Meh.  I can't even think of a catchy intro tonight.  Let's just say that it is time for the Wednesday Night Bullet Post and get right into the random, shall we?

*I remain utterly lost regarding the day in which I am currently existing.

*It's like some horrible straight-to-cable sci fi movie.

*The Day That Wasn't What She Thought.

*The Three Day Weekend That Ate Her Brain

*Time Warp For One.

*It was a peaceful sort of day, though.  All was quiet over at Ms. Sheep's Classroom Of Learning And Creative Behavior Management.

*This was most likely due to the fact that in my absence yesterday, half my class was "invited" to take today off from school.

*It was strongly encouraged.  Parents were called.  Paperwork was involved. 

*Tomorrow they have all been "invited" to return to school as they have surely learned their lessons.

*I should make sure to not get lost on the way to work tomorrow or think that it is Saturday.

*They don't do so well when I am not there to keep the peace.

*Happy Pink Sock The Second In Progress:

Knit upon whilst riding the little exercise bike this afternoon and ignoring my headache.

*Happy Pink Socks are the recommended treatment for teachers who can never, ever take a sick day lest their classroom devolve into something out of Lord Of The Flies.

*I had 17 emails waiting for me this morning...

*It also doesn't hurt to locate half a bag of chocolate chips in the back of the cupboard.

*Probably a good thing that I spent 45 minutes on the little exercise bike this afternoon...

*I'm giving some thought to knitting the Hourglass Sweater from Last Minute Knitted Gifts.  I'm not sure...

*I have just a wee bit of fear in the face of the knitted-in hem thingie.  I'm sure I can do it.  Except for the part where I sometimes think I can't.

*Which is ridiculous because I know I can knit.  And I've hemmed stuff before.  

*I have the skills.  I just need to merge them a bit.

*It can't be any harder than keeping order in my classroom or never being able to take a sick day because the world doesn't really deserve a hostile takeover which is being coordinated from my temporarily vacated office.

I think that I am glad tomorrow is Thursday even if that does mean that I have morning bus duty.  The Three Day Weekend Followed By A Training Day Which Has Rendered Me Calendar-Impaired has been good for something.  There was the whole not working thing and now the week itself is almost over.  If I ignore the part where my students developed separation anxiety in my absence and completely fell apart, then I think it all works out nicely.

Let us not discuss how next week is a full five days...


Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Thinking About It Too Much...

There is a certain irony in a three day weekend.  No one should spend as much time as I do finding irony in long respites from work, but it seems that I can't help myself.  God forbid I enjoy it too much...

Here's the thing: A three day weekend is great.  You get the regular weekend and then a "bonus day."  Sunday night becomes less about getting ready for the drudgery that is to come and more about staying up late and feeling sorry for all the people who have to work for a living.  You get to thinking you're a person of leisure.  You tell yourself things like, "I could get used to this..."

But the "bonus day" isn't really any longer than a regular day.  It's not like you are retired.  You are simply putting off having to get ready to go back to work by 24 hours.  They are nice 24 hours, don't get me wrong.  But Tuesday suddenly starts feeling like Monday and that is not a good feeling.  Further, you have now gotten all jazzed up about the whole retirement thing and lost any interest in being gainfully employed. 

Now most people would celebrate should the Tuesday-Which-Is-Like-A-Monday actually turn out to be a day where you not teach children but finish up that Safety Procedures course.  They might even call it a good thing.  You get to put off that whole pesky Mundane Routine for another 24 hours.  It's not quite a "bonus day" as you are actually in a school (if not your own) and you are still teaching (just not kids...) but it is a great way to transition back in theory.

I had such a day today and can report that it is actually a great transition back to the job.

But now it is Tuesday-Which-Is-Like-A-Monday night and it feels like Sunday all over again.  Except that it is also the night before I go back into a classroom filled with children who have not had my calming influence for a whole day and that is going to make Wednesday-Which-Feels-Like-Monday feel like A Whole Week, Monday Included.

It's all very confusing, not to mention depressing.  I enjoyed my long weekend of knitting, spindling and watching very bad zombie movies.  I liked not having to go back to the classroom today and getting to hang out with adults.  Plus I feel rather guilty for complaining since lots of people just have to work and don't get things like "bonus days." 

My head hurts.  Too much over-processing, not enough finding things to wear tomorrow or getting the coffee ready.  I'll probably be late to work for The-First-Day-Of-The-Week-Which-Is-Some-Day-That-I-Now-Can't-Clearly-Recall.  I need to stop thinking about it.  I should really try and focus on other stuff.

At least that's what the Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty thinks:

Quit yer belly-achin', Woman and bring me some kibble!!!

I'm not going to reward this sort of behavior, fear not.  He will get his kibble at the usual time and it will be served from a bowl in the kitchen.  But the theory itself is a good one and the advice sound.  I'll just stop thinking about what day it is and how sad I feel about having to work for a living instead of staying home finishing up that Happy Pink Sockie.

Although I think it only fair to point out how much kibble I could be serving if every day was a "bonus day."


Monday, January 19, 2009

Ongoing Research

We here in the states are in the midst of a National Holiday.  For some of us, the acknowledgment of Martin Luther King Day means a three day weekend.  Others are not so fortunate. But at least those of us who didn't have to go to work today weren't out on the roads for your morning commute, thereby leaving you with lots of room to maneuver.  Small comfort, I suppose.  But it's the best I can do...

I have spent my three day weekend most productively.  Or at least I've tried.  I may have a regular job and something sort of resembling a life, but I really do try to dedicate as much time as is possible to my ongoing research into a matter I consider to be most vital to the survival of all.  Some may consider my worries over the possible rising of the dead to be nothing more than a symptom of my being under-medicated.  I suppose I can understand that.  But I worry about these sorts of things thanks to my misspent youth and the amount of time invested in cheesy horror movie viewing.  

Besides, I'd feel rather foolish had I not taken precautions and suddenly found myself face-to-face with my first grade teacher.  The fact that she is long since deceased is probably only half of what would make that so scary.  But you see my point.  It's best to keep up the training.

Of the six zombie DVDs that arrived just in time for the long holiday weekend, I have managed to view five.  That's not too bad considering that I needed to eat, sleep and maintain some level of hygiene over the past three days.  I'm maybe not sleeping quite so soundly what with the crazy imagery playing over and over in my head, but it's a small price to pay to know that I am ready, willing and able to step up to the plate with solid advice should the dreaded Zombie Apocalypse come to pass.

I'm reaching.  Big time.  These were not exactly the kinds of movies one watches for helpful tips.  But I'm kind of hoping to use them as a deduction on my taxes next year what with my being the world's foremost expert and reasonably priced consultant on Zombie Defense.  To that end, I've managed to come up with a few helpful tips and suggestions that might legitimize this purchase in the eyes of the government.  Between you, me and the lamp post though...this was really just pure entertainment.

Keep it under your hat, 'kay?

And now, for your edification, I present to you the latest in Sheepish Annie's Guide To Surviving The Coming Battle With The Undead!

*Aim For The Head.  Frankly, I can't believe I have to keep saying this.  I mean really, people!  How much ammo are we going to waste before we get a handle on this rather simple concept?  Sheesh!!!

*Saying things like, "We mustn't lose hope now!" and "You go on ahead, I'll hold them off!" is well-intentioned and probably unavoidable in certain situations.  However, I'd suggest avoiding such phrases.  They tend to bring about a sense of false security and generally sound the death knell for the poor fool who utters them.

*If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times:  Don't lean against a wall or door to catch your breath following a protracted chase.  You are almost guaranteeing that a pair of grey and mottled hands will smash through this resting spot and smoosh your head.  And those of you who choose to slump against a wall within two inches of a corner that leads down an uncleared corridor are on your own.  Don't even think about crying to me about your undead status after forty five zombies come careening at you from the left.  I will bop you right on the noggin without a second thought.  You have it coming...

*It is poor form to send the maid off on her own to secure the rest of the villa while you and your jet-setter friends remain safely together to fortify the salon.  Even the zombies know this and they will work extra hard to restore the karmic balance once they are done picking bits of uniform and feather duster out of their teeth.

*Writhing on the ground, whimpering and chewing on your lower lip while the undead are still twenty feet away and moving at a slow shuffle does not seem to be a deterrent.  In fact, if my observations are any indication, it actually seems to motivate them just a bit.  While this strategy admittedly does a nice job of showing off your gorgeous Italian leather boots, it isn't going to be useful in the long run.

*Deserted islands are never as nice in reality as they are in theory.  The simple fact of the matter is that there just aren't as many deserted islands as there used to be and this accounts for how many are currently being used by groups of scientists studying how to extend the human life span.  As a result, most of these islands are pretty much overrun with experiments gone horribly awry.  If it isn't zombie infested then it is probably teeming with human/animal hybrids.  Either way, I'd just go to Disney World...

*Sending your three year old daughter running pell-mell into the jungle all alone isn't necessarily bad parenting.  This is particularly true if you are currently using a tree branch to fend off the twenty or so zombies who have just dispatched your husband and still look a little peckish.

*High-waisted, pleated pants were a bad idea.  While they may have leveled the fashion playing field a bit by making even the most waifishly thin suddenly develop a pot belly and flat tushy, I feel that there has to be a better way to support a healthy body image for all.  Besides, the donning of such pants renders all females completely invisible.  The wearer can wave her arms and shout to the rooftops such admonitions as, "I don't think we should go any further!" and, "Please don't read aloud from The Book Of The Dead!" and she will still go completely unnoticed by the men in her traveling party.  

*Dying in a pair of high-waisted, pleated pants is the absolute worst way to go.  Especially if you might be coming back...

*Logic is a double edged sword.  Too much and you will be incapable of believing in the reality of the Zombie Threat until it is a situation completely beyond control.  Too little and you will find yourself sitting at the bedside of a fallen comrade, stubbornly and optimistically playing nursemaid to someone who, while conscious, is ashen and exhibiting none of the conventionally accepted signs of life.  (body heat, pulse...stuff like that)  

*Do not turn away to cover your face and surreptitiously wipe away a tear when the aforementioned fallen comrade finally succumbs to the inevitable.  That is when he will sit up.  You still have a second to react at this point, but not if you continue to face the camera and be Touchingly Grief-Stricken.  Cheer up!  In less than five seconds you will get to show how well you do Horrified Victim With Zombie At Throat.

*Every single character does not need a back-story.  This is confusing and makes everyone start rooting for the Zombies just to thin the cast out a bit.  Then you have way more zombies and this does no one any good...

Yeah, I know.  It's not much.  But I offer it up anyway.  You never can tell.  Sometimes even the smallest bit of information is enough to save a life when that persistent moan starts to get uncomfortably close.  I don't want to overlook anything and, while I hate to think it, there may still be one or two people out there running around in pants from the 80's and looking to vacation on a deserted, tropical island.  I suppose it is always best to err on the side of caution.

If nothing else, the hours of viewing and mentally sorting through information were good for knitting and spindling.  I'm in the home stretch of the second Happy Pink Sockie and have started whirling the spindle in the opposite direction so I can ply some alpaca.  That's something to show for my three day weekend even if I haven't exactly added to the Zombie Data Bank in a useful way.

Although I still can't help but think that if I went over those movies again I might find something.  I wonder if I could take a leave of absence from work for that.  A mere three day weekend just doesn't seem like enough time...


Sunday, January 18, 2009

Plan B

OK.  I'll admit that I wasn't exactly paying attention.  I suppose I can also sometimes be a little self-centered.  In my defense, on the weekends I really don't have to attend to the needs of others so it makes a sad sort of sense that I might not be worried about such things as impending weather and whatnot.  It's not like I have to transport anyone to hockey practice or a play date.  I pretty much do whatever I want to do and assume that the atmosphere is going to cooperate.

Work days are different and I pay more attention to what may or may not be falling from the sky.  That affects me.  I find it within my schedule to check the forecast.  I'm not completely irresponsible.

Even knowing me as well as I do at this point, I am still rather astonished to have missed the storm warnings for today.  Had it just been a little storm, then I guess I could have said, "Well, gosh would you lookit that, you silly Sheepie!" and gone on with it.  But I spent much of yesterday watching DVDs on the computer, the TV was off and I didn't see all the parking ban notices until later in the evening when I switched on the set.  When I checked the situation on-line, I was rather shocked to see that we were looking at eight to ten inches of snow for our Sunday enjoyment.  I supposed that it might be a good idea to start thinking along the lines of a day inside rather than out.

Meh.  It's not like I had to go anywhere anyway...

Plan B went into action bright and early.  The snows hadn't even started falling before I was well and hunkered down for the day.  I was able to do this because I decided to try a new strategy for getting my parking space plowed out today.  During the last storm I followed the Board's directions to the letter, went out when the plows came to move my car and was able to get a nice view of them driving away without taking care of the snow.  The dude who broke the rules and moved his car onto the roadways early was rewarded with a nice, clean parking space.  Today, I followed suit.

They plowed out my space.  Another example of how working with the second letter of the alphabet can be the better choice.

Since it was going to be all snowy and cold, it made sense to be working with a nice, insulating fiber like alpaca.  Hence, I dutifully spindled up the rest of the brown roving that my SIL gave me for Christmas.  I even wound it neatly onto a bobbin so I could start on the white version of the stuff that came with the brown:

Very tidy.

Ever hopeful and honestly believing that I could spin up most of the white today while I rode out the storm, I began spindling in earnest.  The Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty did everything in his power to thwart me in this process, but I was determined.  No amount of spindle-batting from a large, orange saboteur was going to halt me in my journey towards finished yarn!

In the end, it was the fiber itself that did me in.  The staple was a bit shorter than I thought and my skill with a spindle does not quite extend itself to this sort of thing.  I was momentarily flummoxed.  But then I remembered:  Plan B!

A visit to the back bedroom where the fiber lives brought back memories of Packages Past.  There, hanging from a clip was a bag of alpaca blend that Cathy sent me a while back.  The color wasn't exactly what I would normally ply with a brown single.  But if I have learned nothing over the years, at least I can claim to have come to terms with my inability to predict what colors will do together.  It's best to just go with what I think will never work.  That always works.

Plan B, you never fail me!!!

The snows are piling up outside, but my parking space is available to me.  (Sort of...the kid next door still stubbornly refuses to move his car and that means that part of my space remains unattended.  But it is still an improvement.)  At some point, I'll actually find the will to go out there and find my car under all that snow so I can use that nice, clean asphalt.  

There was a bit of a glitch in the yarn-making process, but all was well in the end.  And even the AGK has accepted that he is incapable of stopping me from spindling to the finish line.  

The storm may have been a bit unexpected, at least by me, but I was able to work around it.  I didn't even flinch when the power flickered just a bit early in the afternoon.  I had no pressing engagements out there in the world and ample resources to keep me entertained no matter what.

Plan B.  You gotta love it.

Others around here are not so enamoured with planning for the B's that come around, though.  Some prefer to go with Plan A, the plan that has never lets them down.  They cling to the routine.  They like it when they can count on certain things being done a certain way.  I can relate to that.  I get it.  So I made sure to put out the Very Snuggy-Wuggy Blankie and to take a short nap in the afternoon just to accommodate those who need to spend storms according to their own personal plan of action.

Nothing wrong with that either.

And you gotta admit, a kitty who is diligently implementing Plan A is going to be too zonked out to interfere with the spindle.  I suppose there is something to be said for going with the original plan...


Saturday, January 17, 2009

The Rules By Which I Live...mostly.

I live my life by a series of rules.  Some are quite logical and rational.  For example:

Always use the restroom before a car trip which is expected to exceed one hour.  That way you only have to stop once rather than four times.

Others, while completely outside my ability to resist following, are less easy to justify:

Checking the lock on the front door three times will ensure that it is secure and allow you to get on with your day.  Anything less than that will cause the lock to spontaneously fail at midday while you are at work and when you get home you will find that all your stuff has been loaded into a truck and is long since gone.

I try to follow the rules.  Mostly, I do pretty well.  This morning I remembered that a car left sitting in the elements during a stretch of cold weather will be less likely to start when you need it to do so.  Hence, I took a largely unnecessary trip to The Convenience Store Where They Call You Honey And Sweetie And You Sort Of Like That to purchase a jumbo-sized Mountain Dew.  I did not really need the soda.  But I thought it would be a good idea to remind my car that it has a purpose in life other than freezing to death.

Other rules, however, were flagrantly disregarded this fine Saturday.  I really should be rather ashamed.  And yet I seem to be finding an odd sense of pride in this fact.

Shattered Rule #1:  Everything In Moderation

Snack foods can be your friend.  But they do not for a balanced diet make.  And, if you happen to overindulge in rich, gooey, spicy, greasy stuff on a Friday night, it is not outside the realm of possibility that you will awaken in the wee hours of the following Saturday morning with a tummy ache of epic proportions.  Fortunately, this is the sort of thing that passes quickly.  It also lets you start your day nice and early.  This allows you to make that convenience store run by the dawn's early light and still have time to spare for quality cartoon viewing.

Shattered Rule #2:  Don't Go Looking For Trouble

I never pick up the mail on a weekend.  There may be bills in there and I firmly believe that people who want my money have no business intruding upon my days of rest.  They can wait until Monday when I am going to be miserable anyway.  However, I happened to check on the delivery status of an expected package while I was waiting out the stomach ache this morning and discovered that Part Two of a Three Act Shipping Show was waiting in my mailbox.  I broke the rules and snagged the mail on my way out this morning to walk the car.  I am pleased to report that there were no bills.  I guess this means that the various entities who want my money are better about the rules than I am these days.

Zombie Packs 1 and 2 are now safely home and awaiting my attention.

Shattered Rule #3:  Don't Bite Off More Than You Can Chew

I probably would have kept this to myself had I not been trying to include something of a fibery nature in this post.  (That's a rule, too...I always try to at least mention the woolly stuff)  With perfectly good fiber on the wheel and two other spindles awaiting my nimble fingers, I still found it preferable to play with the alpaca that I got for Christmas from SIL Sheep.  What can I say?  It's pretty.  And of a manageable amount.  And I just felt like it...

Shattered Rule #4:  Good Parenting Is Not A Part Time Job

I have set many bad examples today.  Hence, it should not have surprised me in the least that the Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty followed suit.  He broke every rule ever made for a cat in any home.  He chased and teased his sister.  He scattered his food all over the floor.  He scratched my arm in protest when I attempted to administer a much needed Time Out.  He sat upon the kitchen counters proudly and in full view of his disapproving mother.  I should probably send him to military school or something.  But I can't stay mad at him.  Once he settles down from his morning romps, it's pretty much impossible.

Could you?  I didn't think so...

Shattered Rule #5:  Buyer Beware or They're All Out T' Getcha!

Just because Itunes new Genius feature will automatically suggest songs you might like to hear based on what you already have in your library does not mean you have to go purchasing them all willy-nilly.  Although one has to suspect that this is exactly the purpose behind the new gizmo.  I'm usually pretty good about these things, but I'm not made of stone, you know.  Every once in a while a tune pops up that seems like something I will probably die without.  And then I succumb to the Media Bait.  Clicking commences...

If it makes you feel any better about me living over here without adult supervision, I didn't purchase it from Itunes.  I did all the clicking over at Amazon.  What the heck.  I'd already lapsed anyway when I clicked on that "Buy All These Movies As Part Of A Bundle And Save, Save, Save!!!!" button.  (hence the steady trickle of separately-shipped DVDs coming at me...)  I like to think I stayed true to some sort of principle there, but I can't say for certain just what it was.

Still Intact Rule With Which I Can Be Credited:  To Each His/Her Own

You don't have to love this song.  Heck, you don't even have to like it.  Who am I to dictated taste?  (don't answer that...)  But, if you cannot at least appreciate it for its cultural influence then I honestly think we need to have a sit-down to discuss where this relationship is going.  I find it hard to believe that the mid-seventies would have been the same without it not to mention any number of more recent media events.  Give it that much, I beg of you!  

Whatever your thoughts on the whole matter, I'm rather pleased to have it safely tucked away in digital lockdown.  

If nothing else, you can say it's Sweet...

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day for sticking with the rules.  I wouldn't encourage you to place any bets on that, but we can all at least think positively.  It's a three day weekend, though.  I've got lots of time to pull it together and start being a more upstanding citizen and role model.

Or to keep eating junk food, watching zombie movies and clicking on stuff...