knitting vs. dessert

I tried to comment in response to Franklin's comment on my last post, but you can't put images in comments. So go read Franklin's comment and then here's my response:

She was knitting on the chartreuse poncho-thing for Ang (she described it on her blog) and dessert was a fat-free ice-cream sandwich. So I guess you have a point. (no pun intended)(get it? needles, point? Okay fine, pun intended, but only after the fact).

swanky hi-fashion poncho-thing	.....versus.....	fat-free ice cream sandwich
You be the judge.

Speaking of knitting, did anyone else read that Interweave Knits piece (the last page of the summer 2005 issue) by the unfortunate woman who outed her husband to everyone in the universe except, apparently, her own dense self?

Let's see...he goes by "Michael," not Mike; he "couldn't be more accommodating" about housework and cooking (she throws in car repair but I think she's lying); and here is her description of his sweater preferences:

He wants a garment that he wouldn't be ashamed to wear on the streets of Milan or Paris. When I think sweater, I see a bulky, oversized swath of comfort knitting. When he thinks sweater, he sees a fine-gauge creation with fancy lapels and leather trim.

Leather trim??? "Oh you poor dear," I think to myself.

Because of his pickiness, the author is delighted when Michael-not-Mike decides to take up knitting his own fancy lapels. She escorts him to the yarn shop, where he dithers over "mohair, lopi, or merino?" before selecting "an elegant silk-cashmere."

Hmmmmm.

And what, dear readers, is this gentleman's first project?

Well, he thinks scarves are too boring, so he "decide[s] to adapt a wraparound poncho [the author] had once made, scaling it down for a more tailored fit around his shoulders."

In other words, Micahel's first project is a self-designed mini-poncho.

By the time I'm done with the rest of the article—which primarily consists of a description of how wild and adventurous he is and how tranditional and safe she is—I'm ready to send her five pounds of brownies and the number of my old therapist in New York.

But enough about knitting (and related topics). It's like we've all been abducted into some kind of bizarre knitting cult or something. As if blogging weren't bad enough.

Except, of course, that knitting results in delectable items of clothing for myself and my loved ones, so... who's complaining? Maybe Loopy wants an ice-cream sandwich, or a hot water bottle or something. I'll just run see about that...

never interrupt a knitter in the middle of counting stitches

me: "What do you want for dessert?"

Loopy: (mutter mutter clickety clickty)

me: "What!!!?? 'You're a whore'??"

Loopy: "Purl FOUR! shut UP!"

Wow. Since when does knitting take precedence over dessert? You think I should call the deprogrammers?

post-party dialogue

"Jeez, honey, what'd you have to drink?"

"Uh...two shots of slivovitz and a mug of vodka."

"A MUG?"

"She was out of glasses."

"Jesus christ. Just get in the car."

rapture

We're going to a party tonight where a drinking game will be played. Normally I don't drink much (though back in NYC I did have a phase of more frequent indulgence--I was working 60 to 80 hours a week, and like most New Yorkers in such circumstances, I had to find a way to avoid realizing how miserable this made me). Normally I don't play drinking games.

However, this game is fun even to read about. Apparently one watches a wacko-christian television show (possibly called "End of Days"?) and drinks as follows:

Drink once...
1. Whenever someone says "End of Days," "End Times" or "Apocalypse"
2. Whenever the word "Christ" is mentioned.
3. Whenever some academic or leftist's later slide into the firey pit is presaged by his/her enthusiatic espousal of Darwinism, the Big Bang, general principles of science, or the germ theory of disease.
4. Whenever Catholics are defamed
5. Whenever Euthanasia advocates, Pro-Choice activists, feminists, gays, Jews or Muslims are defamed.

Drink twice...
1. Whenever a biblical verse flashes up on screen
2. Whenever the face/image of Jesus/The Virgin manifests on an inanimate object
3. Whenever the word "Antichrist" is mentioned

Aaaand...In case of the Rapture, drain the whole bottle.

Prior to this we are having dinner with one of our favorite people, Marina (for those of you who don't know her, imagine Sylvia from college, except as a bitterly cynical yet extremely funny Communist Serb who fled war-torn Sarajevo at 14 after being shot in the stomach). She promises to bring a bottle of Slivovitz to the party. This promises to be very interesting. I promise to let you know how it turns out.

i love my mother, but she's definitely nuts

Exhibit A: A message to her personal tech support guy (how many people do you know with a personal tech support guy?)

I want to buy a laptop. The Sony & the Fujitsu looked good in Wall Street Journal, probably Sony best as it has the best battery although we will normally be plugged in to wall outlet. However YOUR OPINION most important. I also need to have the data base called "access" on this new laptop because I have a new job that requires that program plus a new employee who is trained in it. Better have Word (shorter learning curve for new guys) on the laptop rather than Linux if it can use my Comcast when the 2 computers are different basics. Damn.. that will need extra firewall etc. Oh well, what do you think is best? I can use both so chging from one to other no problem for me. It's the employees plus there are some programs & stuff that Linux only supports in a totally COUNTER-INTUITIVE WAY !!!!

I do love my Mom--more all the time, as we figure out how to manage this new phase of life where they are so old and I am taking care of them--but... I'm sorry, she's nuts.

I feel a slight twinge of guilt for mocking her so publicly, but when I remember that she used to xerox all the letters I sent from Japan when I was an exchange student, and send copies to about fifty different people (without my knowledge), so that it is still possible for me to meet new people for the first time and have them say, "It's great to meet you at last--your Mom sent us all your letters from Japan!" (this last happened with my Mom's dentist).... when I remember this I feel that I am well within my rights to post my mother's emails on my blog and laugh at them.

Of course, when you read her run-on sentence/paragraph, and then mine, in quick succession like that, it's not hard to see that insanity is definitely inherited.

definition

transmigration procrastination:
why put off till tomorrow what you can do after you die?

—Easton Waller
(on why he is a Buddhist
but doesn't bother meditating...
he'll never achieve enlightenment
in this lifetime anyway)

george lucas should be digested for a thousand years

a conversation with Sylvia, one of my favorite people...

Disclaimer: I can't remember the comment I made that prompted Sylvia's first remark. It was a case of my misusing the preposition "in" when I should have said "among," but I'm not sure what the verb or object of the preposition were.....it's not important; what follows is the funny part, so please excuse the oddly rendered first sentence.

Sylvia: I think you would be better off [verb]ing among the [object] rather than [same verb]ing in the [same object].

me (laughing): I think you're probably right about that.

Sylvia: Otherwise it would be like that disgusting scene in Star Wars.

me: Which one?

Sylvia: You know, where Luke Skywalker is nearly frozen to death, and Han Solo cuts open the beast and puts Luke inside it to keep him warm.

me: Oh, yes, right. Ugh. I thought maybe you meant the one where they were going to be fed to the Sarlacc and digested in its stomach for a thousand years. Though I always wonder, how would you live a thousand years to be digested that long?

Sylvia: Maybe there's some miraculous preservative function, so that your life is being prolonged even as it is being digested.

me: Ok, but then what would you eat, all that time? Other things that were being digested? and if so, wouldn't something bigger than you eat YOU?

Sylvia: It is these little mysteries that make life worth living.*

me: So are you gonna go see the new Star Wars movie when it comes out?

Sylvia: I have not seen any of the new movies.

me: Wow! Good choice, good choice.

Sylvia: Sometime I may rent all three of them and watch them back to back in an orgy of masochism.

me: Ugh. No, no, that would be too painful.

Sylvia: Perhaps I would feel as though I were being digested for a thousand years.

me (laughing): At least that long.

Sylvia: Yes.

me: I'm going to put that on my blog.

Sylvia: Is your blog nothing but other people's words?

me: Yes. Pretty much. Other people are funnier than me.

---

*This is not exactly what she said, but it would have been dry and ironic like this, except probably funnier.