six martini lunch

In practicing for my future roll as Cranky Old Lady, I have learned to knit. I am even starting to branch out from the scarf line and venturing into scary things like felting and purses. (I love me some purses.) Of course, I am not as good as I think that I am, evidenced by the sweater I attempted to make for Little Dog this weekend. A pattern? Bah. The dog’s right here. I should be able to just eyeball it and make something tiny but adorable. Not so much. When I was finished, I put the hunk of stitched up yarn on her, and she fell over. Not with joy, but by the fact that the legholes were placed in such a way that she could not properly stand up and not cut off other parts of her body’s circulation. Which was really a good thing, because laying down, you couldn’t see that I had made the underside waaaay to big and it bunched up in this odd way that would be fine if she had a huge tumor under her rib cage, but not so great since she doesn’t. (I should stop here…I am not ready for any pet-health related humor yet. They’ve both been doing better, and I am still superstitious enough not to knock on wood even as I type this.)

Anyhow, the other night I was surfing for knitting inspiration. (And perhaps a pattern instead of thinking I can measure with my eyes.) Since I have been kicking into Holiday Gift Mode lately, I said to myself, “Self-maybe you should make The Boy a sweater.” Nevermind that he hates most sweaters and is rarely cold. These are details that I needn’t be bothered with.

I came across this pattern on Knit List. If I choose a nice worsted wool yarn such as this...buying enough for the whole project with few mistakes, and pay myself my normal hourly rate (even though I would be doing this after hours and on weekends, where my rate should be at least time and a half if not double) for the 75 hours they say it takes to complete the project, the cost of this sweater will come out to approximately $4,000.

And that’s without normal retail markup. Fuck that. I love him, but he’s getting an iPod.

It's been a rough couple of months here in Chi-town. Even the most normal person in the world would be shaken up a bit, surely. But the fact that I wasn't all that right in the head to begin with does tend to complicate the situation a tad.

As I pop a morning Xanax to wash down with my coffee, the "Today Show" switches over to this...

Suddenly I feel a little less fuck-all crazy by comparison. (Hey...we take what we can to comfort ourselves.) All I know is that I spit out the pill and thought I could probably go it on my own today.

Clearly, there are people with real fucking problems out there.

There is no cure for birth and death, save to enjoy the interval.
~George Santayana

The Boy’s uncle passed away last weekend and the Wake and Funeral were this past Thursday and Friday respectively.

My dear friends, Erin and Henry, had a gorgeous wedding on Saturday evening following a lovely rehearsal and dinner on Friday night.

Everything overlaps. A friend is breaking up with his boyfriend to be with his real True Love. I am starting to feel at home in Chicago while missing my old one terribly. I am scared of the changes I am making and terrified to stay the same. I try to heal by cutting open the wounds. Someone dies, someone begins a new life. The main course comes before I am finished with my soup.

Apparently, we just have to make the most of the stuff in the middle.

One of the primary functions of my job involves meetings. Attending them, scheduling them, preparing for them, recapping them. I am your Project Management gal. I have observed, through the courses of my days, more than a few annoying behaviors that people exhibit when gathered ‘round that conference table. To help you be a better attendee, I have made a quick list of some things you may and may not do the next time you attend one of my professional gatherings.

Words/phrases you may not use:

• Flatfooted.
• Landscape.
• Synergy.
• Make it pop.
• Different angle.

Things you may not do:

• Show up late.
• Leave early.
• Bring your laptop and check e-mail constantly. Or at all.
• Fall asleep.
• Whine.
• Make excuses.
• Pick your nose. (Seriously…can’t believe I am saying this, but we had a digger last week.)
• Pick your ass. (Seriously…haven’t had one yet, but wanted to play it safe. You never know when Nasal Boy might branch out.)
  

Things you may say:

• We’re ahead of schedule.
• We’re under budget.
• The client loves it.

Things you may do:

• Bring food.
• Bring beer.
• Get it right.
• Make it short.
  

Thanks for showing up. We’ll regroup next week to circle back around and touch base on the outstanding issues that we need to square-up before our next check-in.

Avitable decided to make up his own meme, so I decided to play along. Let me know if you do, too.

My favorite age: Middle Jurassic. The Late Jurassic was good, but it just kind of petered out toward the end.

My best friend: My Dad and The Boy.

My celebrity crush: Oprah.

My defining characteristic: I am a good speller.

My most evil moment: An old co-worker (okay, it was a boss) kept making snide comments about everyone in our office being sick, and she “Guessed she was just heartier” than everyone else. I licked the entire inside of her cup before I sneezed in it. She was out sick for 3 days shortly after.

My favorite food: Sauce.

My grossest injury: When I poked out my mind’s eye this morning after reading that Avitable scraped the head of his penis.

My biggest hatred: The people upstairs who apparently walk around their apartment constantly with bricks on their feet. Con.Stant.Ly. Allthetime. Walking. Heavily. Fuckers.

My most illegal activity: Killing the Brick-Footed People Upstairs.

My need for justice: There is no justice in the world. Just ask my upstairs neighbors.

My most knowledgeable field: Wheat. Although I do know a good little bit about corn pastures, too.

My life's goal: To become a columnist for The New Yorker.

My mother's influence: She said that if you want to get something done more efficiently, watch a lazy person work. They will always have the best shortcuts. It’s true.

My nerdiest point: Almost every day in college when I sat in the front row and raised my hand quite frequently. Yeah. I was That Girl.

My oldest memory: Walking with my mom to get banana popsicles at the corner store. I was 3.

My perfect date: October 15^th. I love Fall.

My unanswered question: Will Oprah EVER call me back?

My random fact: I can write backward with my left hand. But not forward.

My stupidest decision: Starting this meme.

My favorite television show: 24. If Keiffer could stay off the sauce, it’d be on the air right now. Fucker.

My style of underwear: None.

My favorite vegetable: Tobacco.

My weakest trait: I am really sad a lot.

My X-men power: I don’t know the X-men. But if I got to have a superhero power, I think it would be the ability to become invisible.

My strongest yearning: To be better.

My moment of Zen: Almost the same as Avi’s. Driving with the windows down and music blasting with the sun shining.