Yen, Again

I have a problem with T-shirts. The problem is this: I love them and want to buy them all up (provided they are funny, or geeky, or literary, or nostalgic, or, well, you get the idea). Today, I discovered that in addition to offering great handmade Christmas ornaments, such as Super Mario Mushrooms and Video Game Controllers (that neither I nor Clark were actually able to buy this year despite separate, secret attempts), some people on Etsy.com also make awesome T-shirts. For instance, ones covered in:

robots,

famous robots,

and, last but not nearly least, the Carbon Cycle.

Let me tell you, T-shirts at this level of awesomenessitudity are very dangerous to discover on a boring day full of no work and no company and no motivation to write. I may have actually suffered a moment of weakness and purchased one. Which is bad. Very bad. Because I have a job approximately one eighth the size of the average person. And because I have every intention of buying a bunch of yarn and needles to make the Bad Penny T-shirt next week (when the colors I want become available on Knitpicks.com).

It's also bad because one T-shirt is never enough. Maybe it's the RPG fiend in me, but I gotta catch 'em all. I must have options. I must have a T-shirt to match the tone of any situation I might potentially find myself in. It doesn't matter that most of the time, my situation is: at home, knitting. I must prepare for all eventualities. People who happen to glance at my chest must be able to immediately glean random aspects of my character, such as, I love robots, or, I learned about the Carbon Cycle in ninth grade Biology class and still vaguely remember it. 

What I'm saying is, if anyone ever feels like buying me something for, say, my birthday, or Christmas, or to celebrate the equinox (coming up very, very soon; just putting that out there), you now know where to go and which habit to support.

Kai (Release—From Genjutsu, Which Is What This Must Be, No?)

So, I was watching Naruto on Hulu yesterday, and I saw an advertisement for the Shippuden Collectible Card Game. It's turn based, a la Magic: The Gathering. I had no idea such a thing existed, but it makes sense: there is a wealth of characters, attacks, defenses, etc. in Naruto. What I found strange though, was that the two cards used to promote the game were student Naruto and Sasuke:

                                            

Don't get me wrong. It's not at all surprising that these are the two characters that would be used to promote the game; everyone knows their intense, angsty, twisted rival-friend-brother relationship thing is what the show is really all about. However, student Sasuke and Naruto do not exist. They're alternate universe characters that only ever appeared in the show's closing credits. Granted, that ending was one of my favorite ones (right behind samurai Naruto and Sasuke). I mean, who doesn't love Naruto in that Yondaime-esque jacket? But still, these two seem out of place in a deck of battle cards to me.

Bad ass jutsu:

Makes sense.

Scary ninjas:

Of course.

Deadly situations:

Duh.

But student Naruto and Sasuke? What are their powers? Charm? Excellent penmanship? Proficiency at school yard brawls?

And one other thing: what's up with Naruto's power being lightning instead of wind? Perhaps when the game was released Naruto's wind affinity hadn't yet been revealed, so they just assigned him a random element? Hm, mayhaps this warrants further investigation. But no, no, I have no interest in playing. Because these sorts of games are for ten-year-old boys and crazy fanatics, neither of which I am, of course. Not solely because the instruction manual for the game is 25 pages long. It's not like I'd be dying to play if the learning curve were even slightly less steep or anything... 

Word of the Day: Yen (As in, a Desire or Craving)

In my 2010 Despair, Inc calendar, March's theme is bitterness. The accompanying quote is, "Never be afraid to share your dreams with the world, because there's nothing the world loves more than the taste of really sweet dreams." The photo is of a sand castle crumbling as the tide comes in. I love my Despair, Inc calendar because it is very me, i.e., ha ha ha, that would be so sad if it were serious, but it's only a joke...mostly. Remember that Chappelle's Show line, "Oh, this racism is killing me inside"? It's like that. You grit your teeth and you laugh and both gestures are genuine.

As March begins, companies still refuse to hire me, magazines still refuse to accept my stories, I have to grudgingly admit that both BioShock 2 and Mass Effect 2 were ultimately disappointments (more on this some other time, perhaps some other place), and I think there's a mouse living underneath my stove. I think the thing about the mouse not based upon any first-hand sightings, but rather on my cats' behavior. They spend an inordinate amount of time these days staring at the stove. For example:

.

And it's not just Leon. Ada does it, too:

So I can't just discount it as Leon being a dummy.

On the up side, I just finished a new story, which always makes me feel good. And the knitting is going well. I got really, really bored with the leg warmers I was supposed to be knitting next (22 inches of plain black stockinette stitch—what was I thinking? I'm beginning to understand why people end up knitting neon striped sweaters covered in polka dots, reindeer, and ribbons. If I ever sink that low, though, please, someone slap me.), so I started a sweater. And then finished it.

It's thick and warm and looks just about exactly the way it's supposed to, despite my wariness about the circular needle that was required to create the turtleneck. It was weird, like a snake eating its own tail every round, but not difficult. The sweater is rather bulky, though, and obviously handmade, so I doubt I'll ever wear it outside the house, but it's comfortable for indoors, so I consider the endeavor a success.

Meanwhile, there's still 3/4 of one leg warmer technically in progress. In reality, I am now working on a pair of socks, the Blueberry Waffle Socks of semi internet knitting fame. I've been kind of dying to try the waffle stitch since I glimpsed the Waffle Stitch Thermal on Knitty, but I'm nowhere near skilled or patient (a whole sweater on 3 millimeter needles in fingering weight yarn? I can't even begin to fathom how long that would take. Imagine building a log cabin out of dental floss and sticks of pencil lead or something equally ridiculous.) enough for that yet, so socks it is for now.

In other (fictional obsession) realms, Uchiha Sasuke continues to majorly, majorly, majorly depress me; while I enjoyed Darker than Black, I felt just as wtf about its universe at the end of the show as I did at the beginning, so I suppose I'll have to watch the sequel (possibly that was the point all along); Chuck has been invaded by characters from various Superman universes; and I miss Supernatural something awful. Episodes of season five are airing every week, but I missed the first ten, so now I can't watch any until reruns start or the season comes out on DVD. I am in serious withdrawal. I miss Dean.

And Castiel!

And that Sam guy, too. I guess.

Doh well. For now I shall just listen to "Ready for Love" by Bad Company about a billion times and imagine Dean's naked back. I mean...I would never do that. Cus that would be weird. On many levels. Um. Yeah. Bye now.

What's Awesome Today: I, Lucifer

I read this baby over last Labor Day weekend and LOVED it.

You have to understand. I'm in a bit of a book rut. Being only a little employed at the moment, I read a lot of books. Most of the time it's an anticlimactic experience. Sort of like going back and watching a TV show you used to love when you were a kid. I should watch that again, you think. So you try, but after five minutes you're gaping at the TV wondering, Was I ever stupid enough to enjoy this drivel, truly? When you relate this adventure to your friends, they say, Oh, you should try X. It's just like that show you used to watch, but way better. So then you're running through Netflix animated, crime-fighting robot DVDs like they're going to start melting them down to make water bottles without giving you adequate warning, all the while searching for that old thrill that used to keep you glued to the floor in front of the TV, unblinking, for twenty-two minutes at a time when you were a kid. But you never find it.

That's how I am with books now. I used to love books. I used to ache for them when I didn't have them (during gym, or science class, or car rides--I get motion sick, very easily); I devoured them when I did. I spent summer afternoons when all the other kids my age were outside playing kickball or riding bikes sitting in a dim, danky basement, curled up on the corner of a couch reading. But now, I read books and think, Meh. That was well-written. There was nothing wrong with it. It was fine. But boring. Uninteresting. Done a million times. Bland. A chore to get through.

But not I, Lucifer. This book passed my first paragraph test with flying colors. Hell, this book made me forget I had a first paragraph test. "I, Lucifer, Fallen Angel, Prince of Darkness, Bringer of Light, Ruler of Hell, Lord of the Flies, Father of Lies, Apostate Supreme, Tempter of Mankind, Old Serpent, Prince of This World, Seducer, Accuser, Tormentor, Blasphemer, and without a doubt Best Fuck in the Seen and Unseen Universe (ask Eve, that minx) have decided -- oo-la-la! -- to tell all," it started (with Nabokov "Lo-lee-ta" promises of linguistic playfulness) and putting the book down was quite possibly the very last thing on my mind.

This book, with it's deceptively uncomplicated give-the-Devil-one-last-shot-at-redemption-and-let-him-tell-you-about-it premise, I want to re-read. I never want to read books a second time. I already know what happens, so what's the point? But I, Lucifer I want to re-read so that I can watch Lucifer luxuriate in the vivid sensations of the human world one more time. I want to experience again the sheer pleasure of listening to Lucifer's arrogant, prideful, hubristic, intelligent, angry, rebellious, cheated, doomed, screwed, curious, philosophical, mischievous, scheming, playful, fun, fierce, sad, pathetic, sympathetic, futile, tragic voice. I want to close the book and think, Ah, right, that's why I read.

I suppose if you're touchy abour religion or have influid ideas about the Bible, you might want to stay away from this book. It is narrated by the Devil. He will offend you. On purpose. But if you're not like that and you, you know, like fun, I highly recommend I, Lucifer. And considering the vast amount of things in the world I think suck, that's something.

Goldilocks and the Three Mittens

Obligatory catch-up:

The holidays have come and gone, obviously. Mine were full of six-hour car rides, a village in New York that was approximately a hop, skip, and a jump away from the Canadian border, Rock Band, family (not mine, of course), A Christmas Story, children, delicious alfredo sauce, knitting, cats, cats in cones, a shiny new laptop (which was long overdue; my old lappy practically literally no longer functioned; thanks Clark), painting, book unpacking (finally! I never really feel at home until the books come out), friends, diet chocolate soda, pasta buffet, Coloretto, New Super Mario Bros. Wii, Quiddler, Wii Fit Plus, Hoity Toity, Cranium, BeanBoozled® jelly beans, The Little Mermaid: 3-D Under the Sea Adventure Game, multilayered bean dip, air mattresses, ball drops, and The Road.      

Despite the fact that I generally loathe people, ritual, and busyness, it was fun times.


Catch-up points worthy of further elaboration:

Cats in cones: Shortly before Christmas, we got our cats neutered/spayed. This was highly desireable because we did not want kittens or to be scarred for life (our cats are sibliings and while this did not stop Leon from attempting to molest Ada about 20 times a day, it was upsetting for us humans to watch, what with our silly ideas about incest and such). Ada left the vet with stitches, so she had to wear a cone for a week to make sure she didn't pull them out (which she would have, there's nothing that cat spends more time doing than licking--herself, Leon, me, clothes, hair, whatever's within her zone of influence). I thought this would be somewhat amusing. But actually it was the saddest, most pathetic thing I've ever seen. She hated the cone. When we first brought her home, she kept bumping into things and trying to shake off the cone. She also wouldn't let us touch her and growled at me for the first time ever. It was rather traumatizing, especially since I already felt pretty bad about the spaying/neutering. I mean, taking away a creature's ability to reproduce, especially just for convenience's sake, seems like one of the most horrible things one being can do to another. Fortunately, Leon, being the big, stupid, incorrigible cat he is, was totally unfazed by his surgery. He was back to climbing onto the counters and knocking over his water bowl in no time.

New Super Mario Bros. Wii: Although this game can be absolutely rage inducing when playing multiplayer on the normal levels (one person always gets everything that pops out of the blocks, you get in each other's way, you can never time the jumps right so that everyone makes it across those perfectly mario-sized abysses, etc.), turns out the coin battle mode is great fun with multiple people since the whole point is to thwart the other players. For example, if you want all the coins for yourself, what better way to achieve that goal than to jump on a Yoshi, swallow a teamate, then spit her out into a pirana plant?

BeanBoozled® jelly beans: Apparently Jelly Belly thinks it's amusing to create a pack of jelly beans in which a black bean might taste like liccorice or skunk spray, green might taste like pear or boogers, yellow like popcorn or rotten egg, orange like peach or vomit, etc., and you have no way of knowing until you bite in. All I have to say is this: boy, do I never want to taste rotten egg ever again. I heard centipede was pretty awful, too.

Knitting: (Slytherin) scarf,















hat,

and mittens are done.

As you can see, the first mitten was too small, the second mitten was too large, but the third mitten was just right. Then I just had to make another. Sigh. On the up side, I'm pretty much a mitten knitting master now. Next up: leg warmers.

Running Around the Christmas Tree

Today was a day of minor errands, none of which actually involved a tree. Hard to set up a tree in the living room when the living room doesn't yet have furniture...or floor. Everything in its own time.

First, I went to the pet store. One of the cats has been coughing for some time now. It always looks like a gag followed immediately by a swallow. I think he has a hairball he refuses to let come up. I understand. Vomitting is gross. But seriously. Enough is enough. So, I bought some "lubricant for the elimination and prevention of hairballs" to stop the madness (and not because Leon looks so small and helpless when he has a coughing fit or because I'm worried sick about him, of course). I also bought a food mat because Leon insists on batting the water dish around and getting the entire kitchen floor wet. 

I also stopped by the CVS across the street from the pet store. And by across the street, I mean a death-defying mad dash across a big, ugly, six-lane, walk-signal-never-works behemoth callled the Southern Artery. Being me, I jumped, rolled, stood up, dusted myself off, and went on my way, of course. I went in for non-surface-damaging hooks to hang stockings from and came out with an armload of things to shove into those stockings because apparently CVS is the place to buy Christmas crap. Who knew? I mean, really, they had aisle upon aisle of ornaments, collectibles, decorations, candy canes, knick knacks, toys, games, accessories, and present-wrapping aids. I can't be blamed. I couldn't help myself.


At home, I attempted to hang the stockings. There are four because obviously Leon and Ada get stockings (and presents), too. Despite my best efforts, I hung the hooks too close together, so they overlap. Quite a bit. I may be a little out of practice with this Christmas thing.















See what I mean? Doh well. What are you gonna do?

 In other news, one mitten down, one to go.

Slytherin Knitter

So...I knit now. You'd have to know me to understand how bizarre that is. I hate pink, shopping, shoes, and gossip on principle. I am not girly. I will never be girly. I have never been girly. Oh, what's that? You say you have proof I used to play with Barbies as a child? Have you shared this evidence with anyone else? No? Well then, why don't you take a little walk with me behind those dumpsters in that dark, secluded, never-patrolled-by-police alley? You get the idea.

And yet, I've had this nagging desire to learn to knit for a while. At first, I ignored it on principle. Knitting = very girly. Girly ≠ me. Thus, knitting ≠ me. Duh. Simple mathematics. But the desire persisted, so I gave in. I justified it this way: I like being warm; wool is very warm; why spend my practically non-existent income purchasing wool items when I could make them for 1/4 the store price?

But that's not really why I started knitting. I just wanted to. I was compelled. Like the need to write, it just wouldn't leave me alone until I succumbed. So, despite the massive damage dealt to my self image, I'm now a knitter. Guess I may as well enjoy it.


First project: Slytherin Scarf

Ten stripes in and I'm only slightly over halfway done. Awesome. Those green and gray strings dangling on the right side are the places where I cut the yarn to switch colors. They all need to be woven in later via sewing needle. Double Awesome. (Sewing = girly...)

Close up. The little Vs are the result of the stitch I'm using: stockinette. You knit one row, then purl one row (basically, reverse knit). Pretty much the simplest stitch there is, other than just plain knitting (garter stitch). And boy does it get boring when all you're working on is a fixed-width, flat, seemingly never-ending scarf. Knit, purl, knit, purl. I'm ready to tear my hair out. (You may not be able to see this in the pic above, but the scarf is being held by a length of gray string at the top. This is because I've taken the needles out (because I'm poor and only have one set up needles) to start a pair of mittens. I was afraid otherwise I might die of monotony.)

Back side of the scarf, also known as the wrong side. And yes, it does indeed look very wrong. You can see the color transitions and it's all bumpy from the purl stitches. If I weren't such a noob, I might have foresaw this and used a stitch that looks the same on both sides. Going to be awfully tough to keep my scarf from flipping over in the wind. (Also, notice how curled the edges are. This is an inevitability of stockinette stitch. Again, if I weren't such a noob, I could have prevented this (by edging the whole thing with a less curly stitch). But now at the end I shall have to try straightening them through a mysterious process called "blocking," which calls for steam and pins. Or I'll just have to live with the curly edges. Wonder which choice I'll make...

Anyway. That's all for now. More riveting adventures in knitting coming up. Or perhaps cats. I've got lots of those stories too. (See how exciting my life is? Don't you just wish you were me?)