tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56001522011-04-21T19:07:48.576-04:00Purl Jamrock chick's adventure's in knittingrock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comBlogger931100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1079394253904126722004-03-15T18:44:00.000-05:002004-03-15T18:54:42.373-05:00follow the strangest tribe
Rock Chick and Purl Jam are hitting the road. Get in the van and follow them to their new TypePad home!
If your browser doesn't automatically redirect you in a few moments, please click the following:
PURL JAM
If you currently have Purl Jam bookmarked or linked on your site, please update your link. See you on the road!
rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1079304888987513562004-03-14T17:54:00.000-05:002004-03-14T17:57:09.576-05:00hey foxymophandlemama, that's me
Rock Chick is chuffed about the outcome of the silk cobweb frill.
Fabulous in its utter fabulousness.
RC hasn't decided whether or not to thread a satin ribbon drawstring around the neck. Ponder, ponder.
Rock Chick must be on a style roll, witness her sojourn yesterday. She was swanning around Saks (RC is not one given to swanning or haunting Saks with rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1079015732457510052004-03-11T09:35:00.000-05:002004-03-11T09:37:49.200-05:00bee girl, be a girl
Oh, you know Rock Chick is happy is when she's Bee Girl happy. Two things have contributed to the seratonin overload RC is experiencing. First, the silk cobweb frill. How fun is this thing to knit? The amusement factor surges when people ask "What is that?" RC takes goofy delight in deliberately unraveling the strands down to the cast on row to reveal the cobweb. Wickedrock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1078841040139322382004-03-09T09:04:00.000-05:002004-03-09T09:06:15.280-05:00questions rise and answers fall, insurmountable
Rock Chick notes with sorrow the passing of writer/performer Spalding Gray.
A writer and monologist of the highest order, he had the ability to hold an audience in rapt attention and impart his personal experience as if it were your own. Rock Chick remembers Swimming to Cambodia as a high point in her sketchy relationship to live theater.
rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1078755402578099492004-03-08T09:16:00.000-05:002004-03-08T09:18:56.826-05:00off the track, in the mud
Rock Chick should know better. For her, the best laid plans for knitting work like this: spy a yarn that reminds her of a great pattern or inspires her to wing it and proceed from there. So, it shouldn't surprise her that the past few days have been ones of colossal frustration. RC envisioned the Gypsy Mesh Pullover in the latest Interweave Knits as a kickin' rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1078329775618865502004-03-03T11:02:00.000-05:002004-03-03T11:13:27.686-05:00make it up as we go along
Oh sure, a baking soda rinse would have been quicker, but not half as quirky as the kitty litter method. Rock Chick estimates that Rogue's stench has been reduced 90% during the past 48 hours. Arm & Hammer Baking Soda kitty litter is da bomb. (RC is not one usually given to expressions such as "da bomb," but seeing as Rogue was on its way to being detonated by a rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1078151578505299162004-03-01T09:32:00.000-05:002004-03-01T09:35:05.390-05:00i got a theory on that
Rock Chick thanks all of you who felt her pain during The Great Rogue Stench of 2004. Theories and solutions flew like fists at a gathering of Red Sox and Yankee fans. Either those dust "baths" (RC thinks it's more likely dung baths) that llama are so fond of are the root of this evil that dare not speak its name, or the wet block method has met its Waterloo. The bakingrock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1077974504056022502004-02-28T08:21:00.000-05:002004-02-28T08:29:40.013-05:00soon be parting ways
Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck. Like all love affairs that seem too good to be true, this one, too, has gone up in flames. It was so easily obtainable, so sensual, so sexy, it was destined to end badly. And end badly it has. It's over between Rock Chick and Rogue's Uros and it stinks. Literally. RC's favored method of wet blocking has resulted in a stench that would knock rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1077634925644845912004-02-24T10:02:00.000-05:002004-02-25T08:34:53.496-05:00wave building before it breaks
Blocking Rogue will have to wait until tomorrow. Rock Chick blocks by the immersion method and it takes more time and attention than she can devote to it today. Some folks steam, some spray, but the ol' RC swears by immersion. Perfect results every time. A bit more time and effort intensive, but well worth the results.
reason #293 why the mailman hates rock rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1077545062710466682004-02-23T09:04:00.000-05:002004-02-23T09:16:08.890-05:00should have pulled the alarm
The good news: Rogue's pieces are finished, just waiting to attach the sleeves and block. The bad news: Rock Chick had to endure a Sunday meeting to finish up the sleeves. Any "meeting" portends wasted time to RC, and one that is scheduled for a Sunday is sure to piss her off. Granted, it was the only day the majority of folks could agree on, but the last thing rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1077288940147972542004-02-20T09:55:00.000-05:002004-02-20T09:57:36.623-05:00days like frame by frame
Here's a Rogue's progress:
Rock Chick swears that when worn, the hood does not fall in such a way as to look as if one has a rather large tumor protuding from the back of one's neck. Promise.
It does the ol' RC's heart good to know that so many of you concur on the Knitter's design. When the knitting demi monde's initial reaction is "Holy shit!" and swells of rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1077201620604851742004-02-19T09:40:00.000-05:002004-02-19T09:58:51.670-05:00this is not for you
Frankly, Rock Chick thinks this is not for anyone.
What is Knitter's thinking? Pullover? How is this a pullover? They're quickly rounding the bend, if that foursome hasn't teed off already. "The generous mesh triangle adds drama." Um, no. The generous mesh triangle adds to the impression that the editors need to get off the crack pipe, maybe. Not to besmirch the rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1077031084221793382004-02-17T10:18:00.000-05:002004-02-17T10:19:58.310-05:00g-r-e-e-d
Rock Chick is a little bitter. She was sniped not one, not two, but three times on Ebay yarn last night. So to assuage her need to buy something, she got her happy ass over to Patternworks where she found Barbara Walker's A Treasury of Knitting Patterns on sale. RC has never found her books at a discount and broke down and purchased a copy of A Second Treasury of Knitting Patterns arock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1076689596433391732004-02-13T11:26:00.000-05:002004-02-13T11:29:00.310-05:00like an opening band for the sun
Rock Chick got the call at 5 a.m. yesterday. Her brother was ill and needed to be taken to the ER. RC threw on some clothes and looked around for a knitting project to take to while away what was surely going to be a stressful and long day. Every WIP she has going involves a chart - not suitable when one is stressed. Lesson learned: always keep something rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1076511335407430502004-02-11T09:55:00.000-05:002004-02-11T09:57:22.826-05:00one, two, three, four, five against one
It's official. Kitten Avec Whip's Fox Force Five - moi, smiling tiger, fluffa, seven deadly cozies and monkey knits. Our "Royale avec cheese" is midnight knitter. Once the FFF has perfected swinging circulars and balls of yarn like nunchuks, we'll have streaming video. Until then, assignments are welcome.
So, just what is "five against one"? Mayhapsrock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1076424299523215652004-02-10T09:44:00.000-05:002004-02-10T10:25:40.340-05:00exponentially serving
Who knew Rogue could be so sex-ay? RC took it's partially completed form out for spin on Rock Chick II and to her surprise (Rock Chick I), it clings, it drapes slightly, it's overall smashing.
Wheeee! Looking good, Mr Kot-ter. (Pardon RC's pop culture lint trap of a brain.)
Rock Chick hearts the gals at JenLa. Fesity, fabulous and not afraid to say "fuck." But rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1076268957276540462004-02-08T14:35:00.000-05:002004-02-08T14:37:42.123-05:00born on third, thinks he got a triple
Rock Chick has always liked NBC's Tim Russert and her admiration was multiplied two-fold today. Why? He was shrewd enough to realize the Bush would hang himself on Meet the Press without any help. He gave Shrub enough rope to just let him twist in the wind. Both John Kerry and Shrub went to Yale. It's apples and oranges, campers. One of these things isrock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1075906358844757642004-02-04T09:52:00.000-05:002004-02-04T09:54:20.733-05:00executed anyhow
Rock Chick can pick 'em. (No pun intended, as you shall see.) Friends, that is. Apparently it takes fellow knitters to appreciate the lovliness that is the Uros shade "Watercress." Comments to the blog bear this out. Last night a non-knitting "friend" remarked of my Rogue progress, "Why are you knitting something in snot green?" RC clearly has some weeding out to do in the rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1075735538185520032004-02-02T10:25:00.000-05:002004-02-02T10:27:17.090-05:00progress laced with ramifications
Rock Chicked Rogue'd her way through the Super Bowl - the sock knit-a-long never stood a chance. When Rogue was momentarily set aside for a bevvie break, Ruby found that lounging on Uros induces a mildly narcotic state.
RC is truly obsessed with this yarn, knitting until her fingers cramped. Tucked somewhere in the recesses of the ol' RC's mind is a home rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1075650792260020082004-02-01T10:53:00.000-05:002004-02-01T10:57:27.060-05:00designate my luck
Rock Chick rolled the dice and, baby, she got boxcars! When the package from Elann arrived, there was just no way Uros was going to knit to gauge. But slap her ass and call her Crash, on size 7 (US) it knits to perfect gauge.
The 50% llama content (I can hear Noelle now. "Llama? Possums? Knitters are freaks, man!") lends it an insane softness, a slight halo and a rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1075386696444307122004-01-29T09:31:00.000-05:002004-01-29T09:33:11.123-05:00strangest tribe
Rock Chick is back at work on the butterfly socks. That should occupy her until Saturday when her booty from Elann for the Rogue Along is scheduled to arrive. In the meantime, in the proud tradition of crack/fiber addicts everywhere, RC picked up a copy of Knit It! The burning sensation in her fingers should have been the tip off to drop it immediately, but into the cart it rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1075300626016274822004-01-28T09:37:00.000-05:002004-01-28T09:43:21.530-05:00make it up as we go along
Instead of perishing from fits, as was predicted earlier for Rock Chick's demise, she damn near perished from an ice storm last night. She shouldn't have been out in it to begin with, but once she saw that a nice 1/2" or so of ice had collected on the road and it had begun to snow like a son of a bitch, well, that was her cue to get behind the wheel and head home. At rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1075214859129375722004-01-27T09:47:00.000-05:002004-01-27T19:10:11.246-05:00sidetracked
Rock Chick learned yet another truth last evening. (See? Years of therapy do payoff eventually.) She finished the possum lace beanie. Then she gets a call from her brother saying he's at the emergency vet clinic with one of his labs, aka one of his children, who has a possibly fatal infection. RC is now a wreck, waiting for news of the emergency surgery's outcome, crazy for rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1075129021727802882004-01-26T09:57:00.000-05:002004-01-26T10:00:19.246-05:00man of the hour
Annie Lennox beat out Ed Vedder? What color is the sky in the world where the Hollywood Foreign Press lives? Not that Ed gives a crap about the Golden Globes, but fer crissakes, people, let's get real here.
More to Rock Chick's taste was Saturday's Sundance Film Festival Awards. While not as much of a laugh-fest as IFC's John Waters-hosted Independent Spirit Awards, this yearrock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1075045356221631182004-01-25T10:42:00.000-05:002004-01-25T11:04:23.686-05:00it won't offend him
Rock Chick nicked this from Erica. RC loves Edward Gorey. He would have made her 12 Men of Xmas list had it not been for that stickey wicket of being dead. Welcome to Rock Chick's demise...
You will perish of fits. Repeat this to yourself:"Things can work out even if I don't getmy way. Things can work out even...."
What horrible Edward Gorey Death will you die? brought rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1074874957489513582004-01-23T11:22:00.000-05:002004-01-23T20:09:13.436-05:00in my rearview mirror
Saw things clearer, indeed. Buh-bye, friend's pullover.
If Rock Chick ever insinuates that she is knitting for someone else again, you have her permission to bitch-slap her into the next week.rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1074780537028444562004-01-22T09:08:00.000-05:002004-01-22T09:10:25.030-05:00see this needle, see my hand
Rock Chick's haste to get the friend's pullover (see previous bitch-fest posts) off of her WIP list has whammied back on her. In spectacular fashion. She now has pain, of the extreme shooting variety, at the base of both middle fingers. And, no, the irony is not lost on her. It will be finished today. "Man hands" be damned, this vile garment will be delivered onrock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1074609838039411832004-01-20T09:43:00.000-05:002004-01-20T09:47:24.436-05:00they don't feed, they don't seethe
Rock Chick breathlessly awaits the announcement of this year's Bloggies. While they may have all of the cache of, oh, say, the People's Choice awards, the winners do walk away with $20.04 instead of a teardrop-shaped piece of crystal destined to be the doorstop in any celeb's loo. With $20.04 jingling in her pocket, RC could buy a Chanel....well, a Chanel rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1074443627969554362004-01-18T11:33:00.000-05:002004-01-18T11:35:47.466-05:00only run when i want to
Rock Chick has to suck it up. The "friend's sweater" has been inquired about. It must be produced. Fuckety-fuck-fuck-fuck. Let's see if RC can make hay from the summer home mortgage she has so generously provided for her therapist with her oh-so-many years on the couch.
Truth #1: RC does NOT enjoy knitting for others unless it was her idea first. (Evil Kitty rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1074267344223937302004-01-16T10:35:00.000-05:002004-01-16T11:04:33.793-05:00trading magic for fact
The knitting demi-monde has expanded its quest to give Rock Chick an aneurysm. Exhibit A: Mission Falls's Decade book was up on Ebay last week. The seller was very honest, saying there was water damage and even posted a pic of said damage. Please note that on the net and at your LYS this book, in pristine condition, can be had for $10 US. Bidding started at $1. Tres rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1074181732484316362004-01-15T10:48:00.000-05:002004-01-15T10:50:13.090-05:00to dream of the next
For those who've emailed, Rock Chick has no flippin' clue where the comments went. She's working on it. RC is having a go at the now iconic Booga Bag. Instead of Noro, RC had a bonus hank of Cherry Tree Hill in her New Year's haul, so, voila!
Pre-felting, obviously. The King is blinded by the color combo. For a dude who favored Bedazzler-enhanced jumpsuits, he rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1073918906414065972004-01-12T09:48:00.000-05:002004-01-12T09:49:44.123-05:00get some flesh to stick
Rock Chick has had enough. What is with the disconnect between knitting designers, magazine editors and the stylists? RC might blow if she sees one more model's wrist. Take a gander at any current issue of VK, Interweave, Rebecca, etc., and what do you see? A sea (see?) of models's wrists. That aren't supposed to be seen! A modest proposal: either designers knit uprock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1073574943981282662004-01-08T10:15:00.000-05:002004-01-08T10:16:58.106-05:00it's a disease
Rock Chick, in keeping with ignoring resolutions, has turned a blind eye to the current "yarn diet" making the rounds. The ol' RC has so few vices left (by order of both doctors and federal officials), that if she can't get a fiber fix, well, what's left really? So, after spending the past three days chasing my oldest cat Reilly around, squirting antibiotics in both of his eyesrock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1073317244546179502004-01-05T10:40:00.000-05:002004-01-05T10:41:55.513-05:00synapses flashing slow
Rock Chick is an enigma wrapped in a riddle. Or maybe I'm just bipolar. I ranted when that flippin' Celebrity Scarves book came out (hell, aside from the charity aspect, it's still a lame book), all simplistic "dig me, I'm an actress, check out my garter stitch neck thingy." Ahem. I'll have my crow well-done, please. Whilst watching Sex and the City and Curb Your rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1073055620044318702004-01-02T10:00:00.000-05:002004-01-02T10:01:28.403-05:00those were the days, pre-investment spree
Ooh, look - shiny, shiny! Rock Chick is easily distracted and she has been very bad. It's not enough that I've mortgaged my non-existent children's futures to Handpaint Heaven during their January sale. No, no, no. After three trips back (and I initially laughed at their note "all orders over $500 get free shipping"), I was on a roll. Feeling a rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1072971548387125472004-01-01T10:39:00.000-05:002004-01-02T09:18:29.653-05:00i'll ride the wave where it takes me
As promised, you shan't be subjected to Rock Chick's resolutions for 2004. It's a no-brainer because she doesn't cotton to the inevitable big let down. Taking a page from Ed Vedder's marbled notebook, the ol' RC prefers to ride the waves where they take her each year. Granted, more than one December 31st has seen her end up with a bikini bottom full of rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1072890651254647692003-12-31T12:10:00.000-05:002003-12-31T12:13:39.513-05:00why be satisfied
On the twelfth day of Xmas, Santa himself gave to me, George Clooney.
What can I say? The ol' RC has never claimed she wasn't shallow. As a friend (status currently under evaluation) remarked yesterday, "What would you want him for? He's trouble." First off, have you just met me? Second, Mr. Clooney is precisely the kind of trouble I would love for, oh, let's say two rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1072711355808663502003-12-29T10:22:00.000-05:002003-12-29T11:25:10.200-05:00don't go on me now
On the twelfth day of Xmas...well, on the twelfth day of Xmas Rock Chick has come to hate this time of year with the burning intensity of a thousand hot-white suns. The week between Christmas and New Year's is like the guy you know you shouldn't have shagged, but you took him home and you did and now you can't get him to leave. Hey, buddy, here's your socks, your underwear rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1072276737381956032003-12-24T09:38:00.000-05:002003-12-24T09:39:56.483-05:00like an angel, pass out wishes
Looking for that special last minute gift? Might Rock Chick suggest the following - a Tampon Angel?
Depending on your preferred brand of tampon, your, er, mileage may vary. For you crafty sorts, the directions can be found here. Can Santa's mini-pad sleigh be far behind?rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1072188292641797982003-12-23T09:04:00.000-05:002003-12-23T09:05:51.060-05:00dedication, naive and true
On the eleventh day of Xmas, the literary elf (Poindexter) gave to me, Dave Eggers.
It can't be the eleventh day yet. Rock Chick has so many more men to wax, er, poetic about. No RC list would be complete without mention of Eggers. Those who revile him are just jealous. The author of A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius and the publisher of McSweeney's has rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1072058810468385372003-12-21T21:06:00.000-05:002003-12-22T09:11:31.090-05:00feel this world with your heart and not your brain
On the tenth day of Xmas, the justice elf (Martin) gave to me, Morris Dees.
Rock Chick loves a man who sees the injustices visited upon certain sectors of society and refuses to go quietly. If you're not familiar with the Southern Poverty Law Center, you're missing a vital link in the chain of organizations fighting hatred and intolerance. rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1072040554316702312003-12-21T16:02:00.000-05:002003-12-21T16:03:31.090-05:00it might be the way you take your time
On the ninth day of Xmas, the shit kickin' elf (Dale) gave to me, Lyle Lovett.
Rock Chick, being a modest sort (ahem), doesn't like to brag, but she was into Lyle way before Lyle was considered cool. I was dragging people to his shows (you're welcome, Anne) when their only response was "Lyle who?" Mr. Lovett is a clever sort when it comes to lyrics androck chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1071961622298740712003-12-20T18:07:00.000-05:002003-12-20T18:41:22.030-05:00the truth, it becomes you
On the eighth day of Xmas, the Jersey elf (Tony) gave to me, Bruce Springsteen.
There are a myriad of reasons for the Boss to be on this list. His was the first concert Rock Chick ever attended (and if you think I'm telling you which tour or what year, it's time for you to put down the crack pipe.) Three-hour shows meant for the fans. Nebraska which, at the time, rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1071841779077677902003-12-19T08:49:00.000-05:002003-12-19T08:50:32.920-05:00little did i know, a loose screw
On the seventh day of Xmas, the visionary elf (Alfred) gave to me, David Lynch.
I don't think that people accept the fact that life doesn't make sense. I think it makes people terribly uncomfortable.
Rock Chick loves a former Eagle scout. Lynch is proof positive that you should never under estimate the quiet ones. Eraserhead. Blue Velvet. Twin Peaks. rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1071753157640667312003-12-18T08:12:00.000-05:002003-12-18T08:14:26.653-05:00pledge my grievance to the flag
On the sixth day of Xmas, the beltway elf (Dick) gave to me, James Carville.
Rock Chick loves a man who's crazier than an outhouse rat. And wicked smart. And funny. The same man who pofessed:
What's the real difference between Republicans and Democrats? Let me tell ya the real difference. Republicans will always take on people in the interest of power androck chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1071680733082354622003-12-17T12:05:00.000-05:002003-12-17T12:06:25.700-05:00door swings through a passing fable
On the fifth day of Xmas, the eye candy elf (Andre) gave to me, Keanu Reeves.
I have no solid defense, your honor. I freely admit that last Friday during a screening of Something's Gotta Give, I involuntarily let loose with an audible "Goddamn, he's gorgeous" which was met with an equally audible chorus of "uh-huh." Apparently I do not stand alone in my rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1071583315697611132003-12-16T09:01:00.000-05:002003-12-16T09:03:29.950-05:00hey, fellas, have you heard the news
On the fourth day of Xmas, the "news" elf (Tom) gave to me, Jon Stewart.
Anyone who knows Rock Chick knows she thinks Jon Stewart flat out rules. An equal opportunist when highlighting the foibles of the right, the left and centrists alike, The Daily Show should rightfully replace every Sunday morning political jabber-fest currently on-air. When it comesrock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1071501797478324892003-12-15T10:23:00.000-05:002003-12-17T09:13:33.373-05:00i'd rather be with an animal
On the third day of Xmas, the NAFTA elf (Jorge) gave to me, Benicio del Toro.
Of the bull, indeed. Pause for a moment of reflection. Fred Fenster. Longbaugh. Dr. Gonzo. Benny Dalmau. Franky Four Fingers. Javier Rodriguez Rodriguez. Now if only Santa would dig deep in his sack and pull out a role where BDT could sport the grey hair...
Be careful what you rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1071417346295655522003-12-14T10:55:00.000-05:002003-12-14T10:58:18.046-05:00every beach has a clown
On the second day of Xmas, the mirth elf (aka Shecky) gave to me, David Sedaris.
Rock Chick loves a witty man, so how can I not love a man who wrote the following:
I am a thirty-three-year-old man applying for a job as an elf.
I often see people on the streets dressed as objects and handing out leaflets. I tend to avoid leaflets but it breaks my heart to see a grown rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1071365067462598732003-12-13T20:24:00.000-05:002003-12-13T21:32:51.890-05:00when i was a kid, oh how magic it seemed
That's right, it's Xmas time 'round Rock Chick's pad. Just how does a gal with her joi de vivre deck her halls? Well strap on your stilettos and straighten the seam in your fishnets (that goes for you boys, too), 'cause Rock Chick is haulin' out the balls with her 12 Men of Christmas.
On the first day of Xmas, the rockinest elf sent to me, Ed Vedderrock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1069955866778735762003-11-27T12:57:00.000-05:002003-11-27T12:58:40.610-05:00drifting, drifting along
Witness protection program? Rock Chick don't need no stinkin' witness protection program. After my smile-producing blush-inducing hiatus, the only one who may need the program is the designer of my latest without-end work-in-progress. Joanie girl, love ya doll, but this Angelina Vintage Jacket is the knitting equivalent of today's post-turkey tryptophan coma. 2 x 2 rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1066691046876338932003-10-20T19:04:00.000-04:002003-10-21T08:31:15.366-04:00i am fuel, you are friends
I know, I know. Rock Chick is usually the one who is all about the giving, but this week, she's gotta give it up for the guys in the band. The Mercedes Benz Pearl Jam Giving Bonanza Week (I kid about the Benz part, but really, if one must whore onesself, why not start with the best) begins this Wednesday. The acoustic show at Seattle's Benaroya Hall will benefit rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1066091851495582952003-10-13T20:37:00.000-04:002003-10-13T20:47:02.450-04:00tickle my nausea
Rock Chick's epic 10 day illness has got to count for something. That ought to last me for a few years. The diabolical twist to being too sick to knit, is that RC made up for it by pouring over ideas for future projects. Once the bank gets back to me on my loan for all of the high end yarn I'll need to complete all of the projects I now have waiting in the hangar... Perhaps rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1065121426552411452003-10-02T15:03:00.000-04:002003-10-02T15:03:46.606-04:00evolution, baby
Amidst all of the cancelled baby shower contretemps, it has been pointed out to Rock Chick that she neglected to post a pic of the finished Cafe Bastille. Without further delay...
I made a few adjustments (as the 'ol RC is wont to do) - it's still boxy, but I shortened it to hip length. Nothing like a long and boxy sweater in bulky yarn to make a dainty flower (ahem) look rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1065017727120545012003-10-01T10:15:00.000-04:002003-10-01T10:16:43.510-04:00bee girl, be a girl
While Rock Chick twiddles her thumbs waiting for her latest yarn purchase to arrive (this woman makes killer handpainted yarns, but damn, if she were any slower shipping it, she'd be moving backwards), she is contenting herself with the knowledge that Bee Girl will be a featured track on Pearl Jam's long awaited 2-cd rarities set Lost Dogs. Anyone who knows Rock Chick, knowsrock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1064928632204316262003-09-30T09:30:00.000-04:002003-09-30T09:30:32.060-04:00trust in rusted minds
Rock Chick has dragged herself from her deathbed (not really, but illness is no excuse for losing one's flair for the dramatic) to temporarily disable the comments. Seems some never-been-laid-and-at-this-rate-never-will wanker has deposited a virus in the comments host's system. Oh, joy. RC will now go back to bed and hock up her remaining good lung. Postings will resumerock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1064412157087207572003-09-24T10:02:00.000-04:002003-09-24T10:02:37.200-04:00some words when spoken
Anyone need a handknit baby blanket? I got a phone call yesterday informing me that today's baby shower is off. Why? This is a direct quote from the shower giver: "She royally pissed me off. That bitch needs an attitude readjustment." Alrighty then. Not that Rock Chick is bitter about having busted her hump to get this thing done in time...rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1064325815685430752003-09-23T10:03:00.000-04:002003-09-23T10:04:53.483-04:00taking pills to get along
While Rock Chick was able to deal with all of the mishegas of Isabel, she was not strong enough to ward off the Dreaded Mohockus that is going around. I still don't feel too spiff, but at least I'm vertical today. While convalescing I was able to finish the ankle biter-to-be's tarp. Never mind that it is now infested with all manner of germs. And yes, I will attend rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1063923081735529752003-09-18T18:11:00.000-04:002003-09-18T18:12:36.300-04:00don't need a raincoat, i'm already wet
I'm snitching this from Noelle's blog in an effort to see if I can get an entry up before Isabel visits her final wrath on my electrical power.
Unconscious Mutterings
Wedding:: cake
Roach:: clip
Expense:: account
Fight:: for your rights
Air:: tight
Protect:: ive coating
Glance:: away
Boo:: jiggedy
Steamy:: sex
Caviar:: face cream
rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1063721935677596092003-09-16T10:18:00.000-04:002003-09-16T10:18:55.686-04:00where the land meets high tide
I'm drowning in the new Knitty. Happy first birthday, Squib - you and the gang made it, and a world of grateful knitters rock on! rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1063668347912900092003-09-15T19:25:00.000-04:002003-09-15T19:34:11.653-04:00they're whipping
If Rock Chick is to judge by the adverts in The New York Times, the difference between being a hooker and a fashion victim is about $500. Il mio dio, Dolce & Gabbana are trying to pass off a $525 black patent leather platform Mary Jane pump with five inch heels as nella moda. Need I mention that even if Frankenstein were a tranny with a billionaire sugar daddy, these puppies (rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1063285733141463082003-09-11T09:08:00.000-04:002003-09-11T09:08:53.213-04:00deciphered the illusion
Cafe Bastille c'est finis! Well, it's in the blocking stage, but since it was knit in the round, only the sleeves need to be sewn. Which brings up the age-old anxiety - what next? I've mulled over a vast number of candidates from my sketchbook, but I think a baby something-or-other has to be next by default. I received a baby shower invite yesterday that is for the rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1063114885197761202003-09-09T09:41:00.000-04:002003-09-11T09:13:10.846-04:00i'd rather be with an animal
Rock Chick has a new border. Ruby Vroom is her name. (Bonus points for anyone who guesses the origin of her name. Noelle, you're exempted.) Eight weeks old and a terror on four paws. I wake up most mornings to find her hanging ten from the kitchen towel. Reilly (the oldest and hence The King) wasn't about to be denied a comfy bed when Ruby Vroom comandeered hisrock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-106303324162507642003-09-08T11:00:00.000-04:002003-09-09T20:49:02.730-04:00roll models in blood
Just a quickie (sometimes they are just as satisfying): One of my birthday presents was Simon Doonan's Wacky Chicks (I think someone is trying to tell me something), and in the first few pages ol' Simon has RC rolling. He questions our culture's deification of actors, models, etc. Let's just mull over this tidbit for today, shall we?
"Shouldn't we expect a bit more from rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1062972090754014692003-09-07T18:01:00.000-04:002003-09-07T21:47:42.370-04:00clouds roll by
The best laid plans for finishing the Cafe Bastille went awry this weekend. When I was "down the shore, hon" on Saturday, I chose to read about knitting (Lela Nargi's Knitting Lessons) rather than create. Upon my return on Sunday, well, Vertically Challenged Guy came through in spectacular fashion and I am drowning in Pearl Jam bootlegs. Piles and piles and piles...rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1062772249736901352003-09-05T10:30:00.000-04:002003-09-05T10:32:10.026-04:00left the porch
Jealousy, thy name is knitter. Why are we never happy with what's in our own backyards? I speak of our LYS, not the personal junk in our trunk. My LYS is perfectly fine, lacking in adventure, but it'll do. There are numerous others to choose from in a reasonable driving distance. Why then does Rock Chick fantasize about a shop she has only heard tell of, yet never visited rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1062593925497229032003-09-03T08:58:00.000-04:002003-09-03T09:38:21.013-04:00a strange spot in the sky
It's kismet, baby. Why wouldn't Purl Girl interview Purl Jam? Dani has submitted the following queries in the Interview Game. If you'd like to be questioned - at your own peril - by Rock Chick, follow the instructions below. Onward...
1. Leave a comment, saying you want to be interviewed.
2. I will respond; I'll ask you five questions.
3. You'll update your rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1062512290054844822003-09-02T10:18:00.000-04:002003-09-02T10:18:10.170-04:00hold on to the thread
Any knitter is used to being stared at in public. You feel the eyes, you glance up and if the Spanish Inquisition doesn't follow, you go back to the task at hand. I was intercepted by another knitter over the weekend who marveled at my "style" of knitting. Unconventional, perhaps, but it's the only way I know how. Rock Chick was taught to knit at a very tender age, whenrock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1061997982604763422003-08-27T11:26:00.000-04:002003-09-01T15:25:01.910-04:00large fingers pushing paint
The great knitting machine conundrum is upon me again. I waffle on this baby like a Zone dieter at IHOP. Here's how I rationalize it - there are certain things I would like to make, but if I actually had to make them by hand with needles I would have yet another explosion on the proverbial project tarmac. Let's take the afghan I've been intending to make my brotherrock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1061822154146978282003-08-25T10:35:00.000-04:002003-08-25T10:35:54.343-04:00i kiss the earth and then i get to thinkin'
I'm on a tear with the Cafe Bastille. It's at the inevitable phase that the light at the end of the circulars is visible, so I'm pondering my next hook up. Finish up the sleeves and I'm good to go, onward to the next thing. The Dredlock Bag is definitely a go for the fall, so I'm sketching some color combos right now. I can't leave anything alone -rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1061674049504999922003-08-23T17:27:00.000-04:002003-08-23T17:27:29.510-04:00i only own my mind
Rock Chick has broken the code - the blog is now sans scroll, has comments and the archives work. :::pause while you shower me with golf applause::: Thanks again to Squib for banishing the scroll and, well, the comments and archives deals I figured out on my own. Care to peek into my toolbox?
Blu Italy sparkling water, perfume and the Elvis-sized bottle of Effexor. I rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1061474357234996252003-08-21T09:59:00.000-04:002003-08-23T11:05:40.000-04:00i am fuel, you are friends
What has driven Rock Chick to consuming Mountain Dew Live Wire (a vile, vile brew) at this hour of the morning? Trying to tweak this freakin' blog, that's what. Squib has solved the scrolling issue (for those kindred souls who apparently suffer from CFS and can't exert the "effort" to scroll. Ahem.) For some reason, the comments disappear when the tweaked template rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1061380565620133842003-08-20T07:56:00.000-04:002003-08-20T09:47:08.423-04:00if hope could grow from dirt
Welcome to the shallow end of Rock Chick's pool. I cashed in my birthday Sephora gift card (generously proferred by Julie) so fast, I have whiplash. I will selflessly (I'm all about the giving) divulge the identity of the greatest lipstick on the planet. Who would have guessed?
Cynthia Rowley? She of the faux-preppy, obscenely overpriced and underdesigned rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1061303786969296402003-08-19T10:36:00.000-04:002003-08-19T11:50:17.453-04:00soon be parting ways
Good God, the whole damn ugly tree was harvested to come up with the new Knit Picks catalog. It's as if your once Armani-clad friend has turned up in Prada. A ridiculously overpriced, supposedly hip creation, yet you stand there aghast. You want to be supportive, but you haven't spent countless years in therapy to be an enabler of the ass-ugly. Knit Picks is officially rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1061218725362353622003-08-18T10:58:00.000-04:002003-08-18T12:41:11.123-04:00let's pick up your soul
After a nudge from Noelle, I'm reinstating the comments. I have piss poor luck with Enetation, but let's give it another whirl. Rock Chick is nothing if not forgiving. And Rock Chick is nothing without you. (Well, Rock Chick is actually all that and the proverbial bag of chips, but she's trying to make a point here.) Comment away, mi amigos.
Reilly takes his rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1060954761545711302003-08-15T09:39:00.000-04:002003-08-15T09:45:34.550-04:00been said and done
Oh, like you don't do the same thing. I'm working on the Cafe Bastille pullover yesterday, in public, my mind a million miles away. When working a row that didn't call for the cable needle, I tucked it into my bra where it can be a) handy and b) kept track of by the twins. This is what I do at home without a second thought. I soon felt a stare and glanced up to meet the rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1060790264465262622003-08-13T11:57:00.000-04:002003-08-13T12:02:31.080-04:00if i behave
Watch in wonder as Rock Chick makes a completely OT post, um, on-T. For progress on the Cafe Bastille sweater, scan down a few posts and envision a few more inches. It's still the same cable pattern. (Here's the tricky part - try to stay with me.) Last night a friend and I were having the typical chick-fueled "yeah, I'd do him" discussion and the object of our speculation on thisrock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1060698217772890342003-08-12T10:23:00.000-04:002003-08-18T08:56:50.230-04:00satiation with occupation
How to harsh Rock Chick's mellow: insinuate that her purchase of Brown Sheep isn't on the up and up. Say what? A fiber compadre has expressed doubts that the loden-colored love fest that appeared on my doorstep the other day can't possibly be legit because of the price. After I parried with a well thought-out "bugger off," I conceded that, indeed, I cut quite a dealrock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1060533560581755262003-08-10T12:39:00.000-04:002003-08-21T16:56:27.563-04:00progress, taste it
I finally received my shipment of Brown Sheep for the Cafe Bastille sweater. The loden color is fabulous and it sets off the cable work very nicely. Check it out:
Bodhi was also awaiting this delivery, but for obviously different reasons.
My head is still splitting from the IKEA smackdown yesterday. I'm wincing as if Sam Kinison were screaming in my ear non-stop, rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1060442692826326422003-08-09T11:24:00.000-04:002003-08-20T09:33:33.266-04:00invisible, in repair
Goddamn Ikea. If we didn't have to rely on ourselves to put this stuff together, no one would get hurt. Earlier today, I leaned back in my oh-so-kickin' mod Ikea desk chair and just kept on leanin' until I was parallel to the floor. Well, that hurt like a mofo. Combine this fall with July's blow to the head and I should be at just about the correct IQ level for my rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1060264786112877622003-08-07T09:59:00.000-04:002003-08-20T09:32:34.476-04:00i'm the first mammal
... to admit she's knitting a tube top. Yes, Rock Chick will single-handedly make hookerwear chic. The 'ho factor will be ratcheted down by this garment only making public appearances under a jacket or shirt and by doing it in an oh-so Park Avenue camel color. Not to mention the irony of it being done in 2 x 2 rib after my "simple" diatribe yesterday. In my defense, I rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1060177531173339812003-08-06T09:45:00.000-04:002003-08-18T11:21:50.830-04:00not for you
Why the current overload of "Simple Knits" books? The market saturation of these titles is enough to make me grab a firearm and take roost on the nearest highway overpass. The dumbing down of the knitting universe has been in progress for a few years, so I'd figure that a backlash would be in full swing by now. Alas, non. For those of us in the knitting demi-monde looking for rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1060086363967621892003-08-05T08:26:00.000-04:002003-08-18T08:54:11.063-04:00swear if you must
After working a bit more of the strap and sides for the Monk's Bag, I've reconsidered. I've only completed about 12" of the needed 74" (!!!), but seeing as this is all seed stitch on #4 needles, I just don't see it happening without insanity setting in. I've ordered yarn for a few other designs that hasn't come yet, so while I wait, I'm going to meditate. Some meditate on rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1060003652856082822003-08-04T09:27:00.000-04:002003-08-18T08:56:18.223-04:00off the track, in the mud
Me? Change my mind? Of course the VK cardi exploded in the hangar; that puppy never even had a chance to make it to the tarmac. I wandered around the LYS, encountering brain-lock after staring at cotton hanks for an hour. None of the colors were blowing my skirt up, so rather than settle and be pissed about my choice half way into the project, I stormed out of the rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1059748530487840402003-08-01T10:35:00.000-04:002003-08-12T10:32:38.716-04:00drop, drop, dropping it down
Every time I see Anna Zilboorg's book Knitting for Anarchists, I do a doubletake because I swear it says Knitting for Antichrists. I think my version is more entertaining. Think Schoolhouse Press would go for it?
rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1059671129158685342003-07-31T13:05:00.000-04:002003-08-10T12:45:31.806-04:00whatever the notion
Hey, hey, hey, looks like the neighborhood vigilantes drove the crack house out. Speaking of addictions, I'm leaning towards whipping up another summer confection on the needles. It's just so flippin' humid, I can't fathom working with anything but cotton right now.
This cardi from the summer VK is the leading candidate for a veg-out project this weekend. Don't care forrock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1059663475542058902003-07-31T10:57:00.000-04:002003-07-31T10:57:55.586-04:00My image hosting site is down for repairs. Meanwhile the blog looks like the crack house that set up shop next to your new condo. Pardon my appearance.rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1059574646053638812003-07-30T10:17:00.000-04:002003-08-10T12:42:35.843-04:00nothing as it seems
Cleo is finished. With my slight adjustment - dyslexia not withstanding - the twins have ample coverage. No chance of the "Great Escape" here. Been there, done that, blushed a shade of red hitherto unknown.
Memo to self: read and highlight patterns from now on.
I'm pondering my next project. Usually they're lined up like planes on the tarmac (the accumulated stash rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1059400290985650382003-07-28T09:51:00.000-04:002003-08-07T10:09:10.450-04:00i'm like a tab
First OCD, now dyslexia. Christ in a sidecar, I have fumbled Cleo. Not in a bad way, mind you, but in a "my synapses are firing at will" way. I had completed the bottom portion (before the top) and realized as I was about to work the cast off band portion, that I had done it in seed stitch, not stockinette. Yep, yep, yep. So the top is now in stockinette, not seed. Smooth rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1059146537044310632003-07-25T11:22:00.000-04:002003-08-05T10:16:20.190-04:00taking pills to get along
I'm done with lists. Finis. As if the hundreds that exist aren't enough to put you off, the inepitude of the participants is. Granted, I'm a lurker on a few of the lists, not an active participant. My major bitch about them: why are people incapable of changing subject lines when the discussion has veered off course? Is it really that difficult? When a discussionrock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1059046839821098832003-07-24T07:40:00.000-04:002003-08-05T10:12:05.993-04:00let's say knowledge is a tree
Is knitting-specific OCD officially recognized by the American Psychiatric Association? Consider me the lab monkey for it. The last few projects I've worked on have brought to the fore in me a compulsive need to recount stitches. I reached the limit last night while working on Cleo. After increasing the stitches from the band portion to the apron, I was left rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1058972432040299052003-07-23T11:00:00.000-04:002003-08-05T10:11:05.126-04:00just be a darling
There's never an ankle biter around when you need them for a model. Oh sure, they're wailing in the seat behind you when you've shelled out $8.00 to gawk at Benicio del Toro at the local Cineplex, but when you need one to model your latest project, they're suddenly "too busy." They want your people to call their people and set up a modeling/play date. Here's the baby rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600152.post-1058878940983738142003-07-22T09:02:00.000-04:002003-08-05T10:08:49.480-04:00is this just another day
I confess. I've blogged before. You're not my first. The shame that is now visited upon me... My previous blogs have covered the virtual waterfront, but if there are two things in life I will natter on about until my compadres want to shove bamboo skewers into their ear canals, they are knitting and Pearl Jam. Rock Chick loves knitting and she loves her Pearl Jam. rock chickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16571595429738679283noreply@blogger.com