Censorship

I usually try to stay out of the policital debates. That's not what I wanted my blog to be about. I wanted it to be about light and funny things. And I guess what I'm about to say isn't really a political debate, more of a debate/rant on censorship and the 1st Amendment.

I have tried to post openly and honestly about what I think and feel in life. I have always tried not to alienate anyone from reading my blog. We all know there aren't very many of you. I have censored myself with regards to certain aspects of my life. However, I have to open my mouth about what is going on in the comments of my favorite blog to read.

Heather Armstrong writes and publishes Dooce.com. Almost always her posts are light and funny posts about her husband, child, or dogs. Every once in a while she'll get a bug up her butt and post about something important to her. Kind of like the bug I get up my butt every once in a while.

Today she, in my opinion, tactfully posted her feelings about the speech given by Republican VP candidate Palin. She posted a link to an AP article explaining how some of the things said in the speech were incorrect. She left this post open to comments. She usually closes comments on all of her posts. She has gotten tired of the hate spewed her way.

I can't begin to fathom why she left them open this time. I don't know her personally, although I do feel a certain amount of closeness with this woman who has opened her home and life to the world. I can only guess that it was because she wanted people to get together and actually TALK about what's going on in this election.

What I found somewhat disturbing was the amount of people telling her that she never should have posted about this. That she should have kept her mouth shut and posted about what she knew best. That a mommyblog was no place for politics. What are they thinking? This is America that she lives in and we have the 1st Amendment.

IT'S HER BLOG. sHE CAN POST WHATEVER SHE DAMN WELL PLEASES AND YOU DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO TAKE THAT AWAY FROM HER. We are granted a certain amount of freedom of speech by the 1st Amendment. I know that freedom comes with responsibilty. I do not believe that she was being irresponsible in her post.

Although I don't agree with ALL of what she said I do agree with a lot of what she said. Whether or not I agree with her comments however has nothing to do with her ability or right to post them. It's her point of view on this issue.

Neither am I saying that the people that told her to shut up should not have been allowed to post. They could have, as some did, simply stopped reading the blog. If you don't like something that you can't control you stop subjecting yourself to it. If you can control it then by all means try to change it. To publicly attack someone the comments of thier blog and tell them that their stupid or don't know what they're talking about is, to me, akin to going into someone's living room and saying those things to their face. It's like the cyber bullying commercials, don't know if you have them where you live, but "If you wouldn't say it to someone's face why would you say it online?"

What someone else posts on their blog is none of my business. If I don't like it I don't read it. It's not like she's in these people's homes with guns to their heads forcing them to read her blog or look at pictures of her dogs. I know she lives within 25 miles of me but I'm not afraid she'll come over and "pay me a visit" if I don't read her blog on a daily basis.

So what the fuck is wrong with people that they think it's okay to tell her what she can and can't say on her own damn blog? Have we become so self-centered in this country that we can't accept that there are other people out there? That they might think differently than we do? That they have the right to think differently? That that is what actually makes this country great?

Soemtimes I get so fed up with the pettiness in the world.

Constipation Studies

So I'm driving to my studio this morning listening to the local oldies radio station. I hear a commercial for Lifetree Clinical Research. They're doing a study on constipation. Specifically on opiate narcotics and the effects on bowel mobility. The commercial wasn't clear on that point.

I've had constipation problems since I was a baby. My mom said the first time I had a solid movement it scared her because it was bigger than what she could do. Since then it hasn't gotten better. I'll go three or four days sometimes between movements if I don't take a laxative or get enough fiber in my diet; and I start getting nauseous after eating towards the end of that time.

When those blessed days come I can spend as much as 30 minutes on the toilet. I don't try to rush things. Just let them happen naturally. This is learned after one time trying to rush it and tearing myself. Not good.

So I call the number and I start talking to this lady who's accepting applications at the research center.

Me: "I'm calling about the constipation study."

Her: "Oh Great! You have constipation?"

Me: "Since I was a baby. Scared my mom once when I was still in diapers."

Her actually sounding like she really cares: "Oh my you poor thing. Well let me ask. Are you taking opiates?"

Me: "No. Is that what you're looking for? People taking opiate narcotics?"

Her: "Yes. Well...hold on a second let me check something really quick."

Hold Music

Her: "Are you still there?"

Me: "Yes"

Her: "We're not looking for control subjects at this time. But you know you can look online for other places that might be doing research that can help you." In her most concerned voice, "I'm so sorry we couldn't help you."

I just about pissed myself laughiong at that, after hanging up of course. She really felt bad that I can't shit on a regular basis. Or at least she sounded like she cared. She takes her job a little too seriously.

Questions?

Why do non-funny people even try to be funny? It's just sad really.

Questions?

Why does a hangnail or paper cut hurt so goddamn bad? I think I'd rather cut my finger off.

Questions?

Why do adult children torture themselves with week long "vacations" driving their parents around Texas and Oklahoma?

Knitting Nightmare #2

The evil that is Fun Fur should be blasted off the face of the planet. As well as the person that invented it.

When I was still living with my mom my niece came to visit for Christmas. She saw me knitting and decided that she wanted to learn. So we went to the local Wal-Mart and bought cheap yarn and needles so she could learn how to knit. I didn’t want to let her use my expensive bamboo or wool. She decided that she wanted a bright blue fun fur. I tried to dissuade her and get some nice smooth light acrylic yarn. She poo poo’d that idea. So we get the fun fur and some size 10.5 needles.

We take it all back to the house and I try to teach her to knit by having her sit in my lap so she can see exactly what I’m doing and copy the movements. She gave up on the fun fur so I handed her some nice smooth light acrylic yarn. After about 3 minutes of this she gives up and says she can’t do it. I keep trying to get her to knit and she keeps saying she can’t. I eventually give up.

I still have this bright blue fun fur however and no idea what to do with it. She decides that she wants the little kerchief pattern on the ball band. So I cast on my one stitch and start the painful task of making a neck kerchief with a KFB of the first stitch on each row.

I hated this after the about the 3rd row and wanted to throw it away. However I had promised my niece that I would make her this damned kerchief and so I would finish it. It took me about 3 years. There were several times where I would pick it up thinking it won’t take me long to finish then I can be done with it. Those periods only lasted about 10 minutes before I became disgusted. Then I would throw it back in my bag cursing the evil that is Fun Fur. The periods in my bag lasted much longer than 10 minutes.

It’s done. I’ve bound off. I still have to weave in the ends and mail it to her though. Not sure if she even still wants it. It’s been so long since she said she did. Maybe I’ll give it to my local animal shelter for some cat to snuggle with. It’s not really good for much else.

Questions?

Why do the firemen always eat at the pizza place down the strip from me? Not that I'm complaining. They're not bad to look at, but you'd think they'd try to eat something a little more healthy than pizza.

Breaking In

In case you’re new here I spent a month in Paris when I was 17. It was a graduation gift to me; and Uncle Sam. We went with a local Community College as a group of about 30 people. We stayed in the dorms at La Citè.

My room was on the troisième floor, which in America would actually be the 4th floor not the 3rd. The first floor is 0 in France and most of Europe for some strange reason. This was also the top floor of the dorm. My room was in the corner of the building by the street which meant that I could look out my window and see a beautiful park.

The windows in these rooms opened inward and had very deep sills. I spent quite a bit of time sitting in my window doing my homework. The buildings were old enough that they had large stone ledges around the outside of the building. Being on the top floor the roof sloped away pretty quickly from the ledge. I also spent time standing on the ledge and leaning against the roof.

I was hanging out with my friend Lily one day when it started to get late. We had class the next day and decided to call it a night. Lily had apparently forgotten her key. Her roommate was already asleep and wouldn’t wake up to the knocking on the door, or the ringing of the phone.

We looked out one of my rooms windows and saw that her roommate had left the window open. There was no AC in this building. Having been in the rock climbing club in High School I have no fear of heights or hanging onto stone with my bare hands.

Since her bedroom window was open I decided to walk along the ledge outside the building to get into her window and let her into her room. Needless to say when I jumped down inside her dorm room her roommate woke up. Pounding on the door? No. Screaming telephone? No. 17 year old girl landing in her room? YES!

She wasn’t very happy. She started screaming at me to “Get out!!” I tried to calm her down by letting her know who I was but that just seemed to make her even angrier. She actually got out of bed and started chasing me towards the door.

Meanwhile Lily is waiting out in the hall for me to open the door. When I finally get there to open it she has this huge smile on her face, like she’s trying very hard not to laugh. I’m sure had I seen a mirror I would have seen the same expression on my face.

We both laughed our asses off about it the next day. Thought it was the funniest thing on the trip so far. This was about one week in. There was a lot more hilarity after this.

Our teacher from the states, who grew up in Paris and wasn’t staying at the dorms, came to talk to me the next day. Tried to yell at me and tell me he was going to send me home early. When I explained the situation and what we had tried first he changed his mind. This woman, whose name escapes me, was less than pleased to see me on the bus for the field trip the next day.

She tried to get the rest of the students after me too. When Lily and I explained what had happened they all laughed along with us. She didn’t make very many friends in Paris.

Come back later for more installments of my fun times in Paris. Like the time three of us chased a beggar off the metro.

Questions?

When will the hot go away?

Knitting Nightmares #1

When I first learned to knit I taught myself. It was prescribed as physical therapy after having a cystotomy in my wrist. After just a couple of months I was back to full flexibility, able to touch my thumb to my forearm.

I learned to knit by watching Knitty Gritty on the DIY Network. Apparently I didn’t watch close enough. For the first 6 months of my knitting career I was always knitting through the back loop. I was apparently also wrapping the yarn backwards when purling. So you’d think that with the twisting of the knitting and the twisting of the purling they’d cancel each other out. But noooo, not the way it works.

I couldn’t figure out why my knitting was so damned tight. My fabrics didn’t move the way they were supposed to. They just sat there like hard little lumps. Like some sort of cyst. See what happens when you try to do something for yourself? I was about to give up then I found my LYS and a very helpful women.

She told me about her beginner’s knitting class and it wasn’t until I took that class that I realized what I was doing. Even then it took the instructor looking at my knitting to tell me. I still have that little bright pink baby sweater. With the first half of the back with twisted stitches. I’m such a perfectionist that if I did it now I’d rip it out and start over. However it was my first ever piece of knitted clothing and it will stay with twisted stitches forever, and probably unseamed as well.

Questions?

Said in the voice of a 5 year old. "Intraweb...Can I ask you a question?...Can I have a hug?"

Bastille Day 1996

In 1996 I tested out of high school. I only stayed long enough to go to my senior prom, what a nightmare but that's another post. I was going to college at night and high school during the day and had been for 2 years. I was sick of school.

As a graduation gift to myself, and ostensibly to earn more college credits, I took out a student loan and spent a month in Paris. I have lots of stories to tell and lots of things I miss.

I went with a group from my local community college and lived in the dorms at La Citè. We attended classes at the Sorbonne. We all know the real reason to go there was to party like it was 1999. There were many nights where we didn't get back to the dorm until 3 or 4 in the morning. Hey! I was 17 and in a foreign country with no parental supervision. I was going to study?

We went during the month of July. I missed my favorite holiday. The 4th. But I was in Paris for Bastille Day. The 14th. Bastille Day is France's independence day. It is so called because in 1789 the French proletariat stormed the Bastille, Paris's main jail, which they felt was a symbol of the corrupt political system. It was the beginning of the French Revolution and the beginning of the downfall of the Monarchy.

The entire city shuts down and huge parties are held everywhere. Even along the banks of the Seine River that runs through the middle of Paris. My two best Paris buddies and I found ourselves along the banks of the Seine partying all night long. We danced and drank cheap French wine and ate good food and had a huge blast. One of my friends, Anastacia, was a line dancer back home in LA. She would go to cowboy bars and dance several times a week. She knew them all. The Achy Breaky, The Boot Scoot Boogy, and most importantly the Electric Slide.

Lily and I didn't know any of these dances. Stacia decided to teach us the Electric Slide since it was the easiest. So there we were, three american girls that spoke bad French at best, on the banks of the Seine river in Paris at a huge party doing the Electric Slide. We were having fun and ignoring everybody else. After about 5 minutes of us doing this constantly, the music never stopped, we started to gain an audience. People were noticing we were doing the same moves, in unison, and too the beat.

I don't remember how exactly it happened but our audienced eventually turned into students. We were teaching the young, what we thought were the cool, French how to do the Electric slide. By the end of the night we had about 200 people behind us doing the Electric slide along the banks of the Seine to European techno music. We only stopped when we were about to fall down. This was about 2 am. We'd been dancing since 4 pm.

The thing that really makes this story great is the fact that we missed the last Metro to La Citè by about 15 minutes. So we had to walk. At 2 AM. Through the middle of Paris. In our "Party Clothes". Three young, attractive, American girls walking through Paris, half-drunk, trying to find our way back home. Needless to say we found we didn't find La Citè. We DID find an all night Mickey D's and a phone book to call a cab. Which only cost us about $10.

So not a bad evening. I'm surprised I can remember most of it. come back tomorrw so i can tell you more tales of my exploits in Paris. Like the time I was walking around on the 4th story ledge of my dorm.

Questions?

Why do they put the ashtrays at 7-11's right by the propane exchange tanks? For that matter why do they even have ashtrays at gas stations? It's almost like they're encouraging you to smoke and blow up the corner.

Questions?

Does laughing at someone else's misfortune make you a bad person?

Highlander

I just watched Highlander again last night. Haven't watched it in a long time and thought it might be fun. I wasn't right. Oh. My. Fucking. God. There was alot of sword fighting. Like 75% of the movie.

I know. It's a movie about a bunch of men trying to cut each other's head's off. Of course there's going to be sword fights, but can't we have a little bit more story.

AND. What did I ever see in Christopher Lambert? The scenes where he's in a kilt with the long hair and clean shaven not too shabby. But the scenes in the 80's where he hasn't shaved in a week and his hairs a mess and he just basically looks dirty. Blech!

Now Sean Connery on the other hand. I still fuck him given the chance. I know he's old enough to be my grandfather and all that. I just want to hear him whispering my name in my ear in that oh so wonderful accent of his. Getting "happy" just thinking about it.

Questions?

Why doesn't Utah weather make up it's mind?

Pink Scarf

Back in January I made a comment about some yarn being repurposed from one project to another. I said that would be a story for my other blog. Well since there is no longer an "other blog" I've decided to post it here.

When I was working for one of the world's largest hotel chains in their reservation center I made a friend. We had some past in common. We both worked in the complaint department. We had both been in Guest Relations for Disney. Me in Cali her in Florida. We were both comfortable with ourselves as far as our sexuality was concerned. Or so I thought.

We were constantly "flirting". Blowing each other kisses. Smacking each other on the ass. Groping each other. Granted all of this was out in the parking lot, the break room, or at each other's houses. Never on the call floor where others might be offended and get us in trouble for sexual harassment. The kind of stuff women do that their men hope would go further but never does. We were friends. I taught her how to knit.

One day when I was at a LYS they had a bunch of balls of different textured pink yarn in their dollar basket. I bought them thinking to make her a fun fashion scarf. Shortly after purchasing the yarn she was moved laterally from Guest Relations to a department that made reservations direclty for the hotels when they had groups coming in. After that happened she all of a sudden thought she was better than anyone else there. I didn't quite realise the change in her until it was too late.

One day I was walking past her on my way back to my desk after a smoke break, I used to smoke but quit just over a year ago. As per our established pattern I smacked her on the ass on the way by. She said nothing. Just ignored it and we both went about our days. A few days later I get called over to my supervisors desk to find out that she had made a sexual harassment claim against me. I was needless to say very angry. It was something mutual that SHE STARTED. I was just going along with it. It didn't bother me in the slightest as I am secure in my sexuality.

Nothing ever came of the claim as I explained the back story to my supervisor and he basically ignored it. What really pissed me off is that she didn't even have the balls to come to me and say somthing like, "I realize that this is something that we used to do in the past but I am no longer comfortable with the situation and would prefer if it wouldn't happen again." Granted I would have been confused but I would have said okay and that would have been the end of it. The fact that she went to my supervisor and bitched only made me lose all respect for her. Never spoke to her again after that and boy am I glad I'm out of that hell hole of a job.

Dancing and the Martial Arts

Being a martial arts instructor I know a lot of male martial artists. While their moves in the sparring ring might be something to make you panties wet I have to say that not a one of them can dance. As evidenced by this oh so wonderful clip of Jean Claude Van Damme.



That has got to be the funniest thing I've seen from Youtube in a while.

New Subtitle

I know! I know! This is supposed to be first and foremost a blog about my knitting. However I have found myself with less and less knitting to blog about and more and more life to blog aobut. That's why the switch around in the subtitle. Now I'm going to have to go change the category I'm in at BlogHer. Hopefully that isn't that difficult.

Meanwhile I'm plotting all the wonderful nefarious deeds I can do and stuff I can buy with my new found fame. I have a new reader! Welcome Pamela. Did you bring any friends? I hope so. If not how do you expect me to become rich and famous like Heather Armstrong? Able to live off my blog and my husbands love. Oh yeah, and my kid and two dogs, which I don't have. And the daily posting. Have to get working on that.

I am going to make you all a promise. I will post everyday before I go to bed. If I don't you can call me and ask me where my post is.

BlogHer

Blogging from work is never a good thing. I’m supposed to be working right? But I just can’t help it right now. I need to blog. I also need to wait for the drugs to kick in before I try anything more difficult, like vacuuming my studio.

I was reading My Favorite Blog this morning like I always do. I found a link to a new equally cool blog and from there to BlogHer.

I decided to join. Not sure what exactly this will do for me but I’m sure it will be a good thing. Exposure to lots of new blogs and new readers on the way! BlogHer is a great community of female bloggers talking about everything. Gaming, crafts, do it yourself, celebrities, politics, religion, life in general. You name it you’ll find a blog about it there.

While we’re on the subject of blogs about everything under the sun, I realize people have their passions. I still don’t understand the things that some people blog about. I can understand Mommy Blogging. I mean what else would a stay at home mom have to blog about but her child and life around the house? I can understand blogging about politics. Politics are important. You should have an informed opinion about the people that rule your world. I can even understand blogging about an MMORPG. I know some of those players in real life and it consumes them. I have a friend that is playing when he’s at home and on the forums at work. It’s all he does.

What I don’t understand are people that blog about things like celebrities. I mean they’re people just like us. They’re not special. They’re just more famous and most likely have more money. What is the world’s fascination with celebrities and spoiled rotten heiresses? I don’t think I’ll ever understand.

I used to work at the Disneyland Resort as a tour guide. I’ve met some of these “celebrities”. They’re no different from you or me. Except Susan Lucci, she was a bitch from hell. I’ve met Teri Hatcher, and her husband whose name escapes me. I’ve met Stephen Hawking. I’ve met most of the cast of whatever soap opera Susan Lucci is on. They’re all just normal people.

So why, as a society, are we all so interested in what’s going on in their bedrooms, living rooms, and kitchens? Would you like it if there were people going through your trash to see what brand of tampons you use? Or people trying to get peeks in your windows to see if you really eat edamame like you said you did on Oprah? Or following you around trying to get pictures of your baby so the world could see how cute, or ugly, they are? I know that would drive me totally bat shit crazy.

Why can’t we just leave these people alone and let them do their jobs? Like we do with the policemen, the firemen, and shit even the greeters at Wal-Mart. Why are they so special? Just because they can get up in front of a camera and pretend to be someone else? Don’t get me wrong I like TV and Movies. I just don’t think that we should treat the stars of these movies/shows any differently than we do our next door neighbors.

Off my soap box now. This is supposed to be a knitting blog right? So on to my recent knits.

I love knitting and have decided that some of my recent knits should go to some charity. To that end I have decided to donate some of my recent knits to the local MTC, Missionary Training Camp. I am not LDS, never have been, never will be. I don’t believe in proselytization and I know “The Church” doesn’t need any monetary help, I mean how could they when all their members are going to go to hell unless they give 10% of their gross income to “The Church”. However these young men, and very few women, are being sent out into the world. To different cities, sometimes even different countries, to “spread the word” and, although I don’t agree with it, I don’t believe they should be sent without some comforts of home. So some of my hand knit dish cloths and market bags are being given to the MTC for these missionaries to take with them. Perhaps even some scarves or hats for those going to colder climes. If you would like to donate some of your items please send me a message at mtcdonations@yahoo.com and I will tell you where you can drop them off or mail them for delivery to the MTC the next day.

My mother requested I make her some market bags to take to the grocery store. I make them out of Peaches & Crème cotton yarn. They have lots of beautiful colors and, her favorite being emerald green, I figured she’d pick a green one. What does she pick? Not some beautiful shaded green, or green and lavender, or anything even resembling her favorite color in the least. She picks Pink Lemonade! Not so bad on the cone or in a ball. When knit up into a market bag? Hideous! At least it has green in it and she won’t forget them when going to the store.

I haven’t made any progress on my UFO’s this month. I have however added several dishcloths to my collection. I asked someone the other day what they would pay for a hand knit dishcloth and showed them an example and they said anywhere between $5 and $7. So then WHY ARE MY DISHCLOTHS NOT SELLING ON MY ETSY SHOP?! Major suckage. I guess I just have to give it time and advertising.

Speaking of my etsy shop. I’ve had two people mark me as a favorite but not buy anything. Is this something that happens a lot? I mean if you like my stuff enough to mark it as a favorite why not buy something? Just doesn’t make sense to me.

Guess a lot of stuff doesn’t make sense to me today. Maybe it’s all the drugs I took earlier. Who knows? I certainly don’t.