Awesome, nerd-tastic birthday plans

I have a birthday coming up. Two weeks ago, out of the blue, Sam called me and DEMANDED that I come down to LA for my birthday- and to go to the Firefly/Serenity convention in Burbank with him. After some serious consideration, and weighing my options ...

I'M SO GOING!!!

I'm super-excited. We're also talking about seeing Wicked while I'm down there. Two packed, fun-filled days.

I have a feeling that 26 is going to be a very good year.

Shocking progress

So, it turns out that I'm not as slow a knitter as I thought. I have made some real progress since casting on Friday night.

See, I decided to knit both fronts and the back in one piece up to the armholes to save me some seaming time later on in the game. The key to competition is being able to look ahead: I'm not going to seam more than absolutely necessary. This makes every row pretty long, but it assures that the pieces will be the same length.

Sunday morning, I took the Olympic Ribbi Cardi along to see The Dark Knight. Before we went into the movie, it was 11" worth of body, see:

Please forgive the terrible color quality of the photo. It turns out that coffee houses aren't known for their spectacular lighting. Who knew?

(Side note: As I was about to take the picture, the guy next to me had his glass mug of coffee spontaneously explode. Maybe that Maine waitress was right about me having an unusual super-power...)

During the movie, I hit the necessary 14" on the body. At this point, I can't move on because I'm trying to be a courteous movie patron and NOT use my cell phone as a light to read the next steps on the pattern. So, I sat (relatively) still and watched the movie.

I thought it was fantastic. I didn't like a few subtle changes to the classic story, but I loved the casting choices. Also, I love the cleft in Aaron Eckhart's chin. (I kind of want to lick it. Is that weird?) Give me a glass of wine and a copy of that DVD, and I'll deconstruct for HOURS.

The Social Pressure experiment is going well; I'm noticing that sometimes, I want to buy yarn because I'm in the mood to buy yarn. The thing is this: I've been organizing my office (using the awesome new shelving that Andrew and I built), and it's made me very aware of how much yarn and roving I actually have. Very, very aware.

I've been alternating the Olympic Knitting with organizing my office and spinning up some Pigeonroof Studios Superwash Merino (in "Mushroom Caps"), I've been making sure to reduce repetitive stresses by changing activity regularly.

Oh, and as of tonight, I'm done with the body of my sweater. All that's left are the sleeves, collar, and zipper edging.

Preparing for competition

Hello, darling readers.

This week has been really crazy- between Those Who Pay My Bills making demands on my time, our 7^th anniversary, Olympic Training, and the Great Organization Binge of 2008, I’ve been a little busy.

I’ll be doing a review of Shakespeare Santa Cruz’s “All’s Well That Ends Well”- but don’t get excited, it’s not a glowing review. I’m also participating in the 2008 Knitting Olympics/Ravelympics, and if all goes well, when all is said and done, I’ll have a handspun, handknit Ribbi Cardi. I’ll blog around it, but I honestly think that it’s going to be a real challenge to knit it in a couple of weeks, especially given that I’m not taking time off work to compete.

I have informed my Olympic Support Staff (Andrew and the dogs) that they should be prepared to deal with me being less involved in the household tasks, as I am in competition as of tomorrow.

If you’re participating, good luck. I think we’re all going to need it.

Don't fight the force, Luke.

Sometimes, going with the flow is better.

I’m a planner. I’ve been a planner as long as I can remember- maybe this is why I’ve been dubbed the “Tiny Persian Dictator” of the knitting group. Recently, I’ve been trying to share the planning responsibilities, and take a backseat.

If you know me in the “real world” (as opposed to on the internet), you know that my schedule has been… over committed, at best. I have been trying to plan out a month in advance, but there is that adage about the best laid plans, and the path to hell being paved with good intentions. A mixed metaphor, yes, but go with it.

Last year, I went to the Harmony Classic Sweepstakes in Marin and had a FABULOUS time. This year, I was trying to decide whether I wanted to go alone, or who I would take with me. I also could have SWORN that I went at the end of last May.

Last night I checked online (so that I could get my ticket online, since next weekend is the end of May), and it turns out that I missed it. Totally, utterly , completely missed it. It was on May 3^rd.

I won’t go into the fact that six months ago, when the tickets went on sale, I thought, “I should get my tickets now.” But no. I couldn’t decide whether to get one or two tickets.

With one ticket, I could go, flirt outrageously with all the singing mens, go to afterglow (and partake in the drunken singing), and head home (or crash in a hotel room) at my leisure. Two tickets means two people. Potential blockage. ‘Nuff said.

What have I learned? Go with the OCD. Buy one ticket. Flirt outrageously.

I come prepared

It’s always good to have your knitting- especially on those days where you’re absolutely certain that you won’t have the opportunity to knit. When I pack my purse, if I hesitate to put knitting in my bag, inevitably, I’ll have something happen where I have HOURS on my hands, with nothing to do.

I had a day like that.

I hesitated about putting my knitting in my bag, but thought better of it and tossed it in anyway. Good thing, too.

One of the tasks I do for work leaves my machine susceptible to viruses, spyware, and other computer VDs. It’s unpleasant. In any case, there was an issue with my machine (which required loading software that took FOREVER to load), and I spent a good chunk of time working on my sock, watching the status bar crawl towards the end.

Which sock?

This one:

Handspun yarn + deep breathing = calm.

Welcome, stalkers!

If you’re the stalking type (or just enjoy stand-up comedy), Maria Bamford is performing at the Punch Line (in San Francisco) tonight, Wednesday, February 13^th. You can get tickets here.

I’ll be there (with my camera and sock), and hopefully I’ll get a picture with her.

Progress is inevitable

I have been making some steady progress on my Juno Regina. See?

I’m planning on making some adjustments to the pattern- one of which is to shorten it from eighty inches down to sixty. But.

CJ mentioned that the shawl is asymmetrical. I looked at the pattern, and evidently, the charts aren’t symmetrical.

But.

Looking at the photos, they appear to be close enough to symmetrical to warrant knitting it one piece- in lieu of knitting it in two pieces and grafting it.

Less is more

The best things in life are not things at all. Experiences, loved ones- these are the things that matter most. This year, I am resolving to learn better habits and live a more enlightened life.

My first step towards this goal was to begin purging things that I no longer wanted or needed. Tim Gunn is directly responsible for this. I was watching Tim Gunn’s Guide to Style, and I was taking the advice he gave one his show to heart. I don’t need 90% of my wardrobe. More than not needing it, I would say at LEAST 30% is frumpy or not flattering. Out!

As I’m getting rid of dozens of unflattering pieces, I’m replacing them ONLY with a few high-quality, flattering items that are absolutely necessary. I’m not about to try and wrangle the dogs in a spring dress, but, I’m taking the rest of his advice. I think he’s positively inspiring.

Let's call this "Jasmin 2008".

The next step is to practice good habits and balance whether a purchase is a Want or a Need. It takes time to develop good habits, but I’m already noticing a difference in how I am shopping.

I am very lucky; I could knit out of my stash for years without needing more yarn. So that’s what I’m doing. I’m not going on a yarn diet, but I’m not buying anything that doesn’t shake my foundation.

This is going to help me stop feeling like my possessions own me, and also, to allow me to enjoy all of the extra space in this house.

Additionally, I am looking to improve myself this year. My list of things that I want to do includes:

-Go to yoga more frequently. It’s good for the body and good for the soul.

-Take a pilates class at work. Those giant balls look like fun.

-Take a knife techniques class.

-Learn four new, high-end recipes every month: one soup, one main course, one dessert, and another of my choosing.

-Learn to use the two knitting machines I have.

-Teach each dog at least one new trick.

The devil is in the planning

I believe that to have the most fun, careful, meticulous planning must be done beforehand. There is a reason that the Minions have started calling me the “Tiny Persian Dictator”; I keep things on schedule and make those fun ideas happen.

Planning is a part of my everyday life- I have a gift for maximizing time and resources, and I get annoyed when my good planning is disrupted by someone else’s actions or thoughtlessness. That was last week. This week has gone much better, thank you.

No-blog-Rachel asked me if she could use my space for the finishing of HER Top Secret Project. She’s very pleased that she could use her Minionish resources to keep her TSP a secret from beginning to end. We determined the date that she would bring it over for finishing, and that was that.

I can’t help but be myself. My own TSP was hours away from completion, and I did the math. If it didn’t get finished and blocked on Tuesday, then it wouldn’t be finished blocking until Monday. I plowed through the finishing, hijacked my mother, and we blocked the living daylights out of the TSP until almost 11 PM.

The goal, once I confirm it with my partner in crime, is to deliver the TSP on Thursday. Photos and blog will go up following, since the recipient reads le Blog.

The remaining time-sensitive items are my father’s two hats, and my grandfather’s scarf.

I might actually make it!

Knitting and Jazz

I like to listen to Podcasts in the morning. I have a 20-40 minute commute (depending on traffic on 101), so I get through quite a few every week. There was a dry spell in October where none of “my” Podcasts were updating. I had seven hours of driving ahead of me (to and from Grass Valley for a 75^th birthday) and NO Podcasts.

So, I went into iTunes, searched for Knitting in the Podcast section and downloaded a subscription to EVERY single one. Since then, I consistently have between 65- 75 Podcasts on my iPod at any given time. The goal is to determine which ones I like, and which ones I don’t. When my “regular” Podcasts run out, I move on to the new ones. It’s a system.

This morning, I listened to IrieKnits, and she likened some aspects of knitting to jazz- mostly, the improvisation in both. Irie mentioned that improvisational knitting didn’t always work in her favor.

Disclaimer: I am not a jazz musician. I’ve dated a couple of jazz musicians, and I am (at best) a recreational musician.

Improvisational jazz is not for people who have a rudimentary knowledge of music theory. You have to have a relatively strong grasp on theory before you can be certain that what you’re playing will sound good. I think its 90% knowledge and 10% art.

Jazz isn’t a “simple” genre, not by any means; I think that’s part of what makes it so appealing to listen to. There are guidelines to give the musicians some structure, but that is heavily rooted in theory. I keep saying it. Theory, theory, theory.

The same goes for knitting- if you have a strong design/theory background, even if you screw up a piece, you should be able to compensate without much ripping. In my opinion, it takes a combination of experience and general knitting knowledge to be an effective improvisational knitter.

Part of me believes that if you’re a knowledgeable enough knitter, you WON’T indulge your whims because you’ll know that they won’t work. I’ve met a knitter like this, so I know it’s possible, but I’m not there yet. I’m working towards it.

Though I do create, I don’t consider myself to be a creative person. I am an editor, through and through. I take other people’s ideas, and I make them better. (Well, I think I make them better.) When it comes to building a piece from the ground up, it is usually – at least – inspired by something else that I have seen.

I don’t really improvise; I do the math, chart out the pattern, and take the measurements before I begin. I’ve learned that “just going” results in “just ripping”.

Improvisation takes a balance of brains and “balls”. It can be risky, but it can bear incredible fruit.

Holidays and “It”

I'm not one of those nice knitters who knits for everyone. "Nice" isn't really a word I would use to describe myself, but that's a whole different story.

I went to Purlescence for movie night, and Tony read one of Stephanie Pearl-McPhee's short bits from The Yarn Harlot- "It", and I realized, that in the last seven years, I have NEVER been defeated by "It".

Maybe, it's because one year, where I thought I would knit for The Boyfriend's whole family, my mother sat down with me, and pointed out that I was killing myself over something that wouldn't matter to them. Fair enough. This whittled down the list from six knitted items, down to two. Baking is faster than knitting- and more appreciated by the non-knitters.

The first Christmas that Andrew and I were together, I was so in love (in lurve, even) with him, that I knit him a sweater. I knit him a sweater in Silky Wool on size US 3 and US 5 needles. I hunted down the missing color on the internet, and got it from an online yarn shop that was closing it's doors at the end of that week.

I finished it two days before Christmas. Ends woven in, and everything, so that he could wear it to the holiday stuff we were doing. I also didn't knit on it in front of him, which was a challenge. But I did it.

Since then, the only other Feat of Insanity was when I decided that in the two months between Stitches West and Andrew's birthday, I would knit him SIX pairs of size 12 men's socks. With colorwork. Clearly, I needed to up my meds. Those got finished, too- even though I wove in the ends right before I got to the restaurant for the birthday celebration.

For Christmas, I have usually only knitted my father a hat, to match whatever running suit Mom and Sam bought for him. This year, he asked for two. (Pictures to be posted when they're taken.) I'm also working on a Top Secret Project for _____ with _____. ______ totally kicked my butt on her half, so I have to catch up, or risk utter shame and a wicked asskicking from both _______ and _______. I bought the tools for success, so I should be able to get on that, but spinning has my heart for now. And possibly my liver and kidneys as well. But the holidays are coming, and I committed to doing this like two months ago. (My half is half done, so we're 75% there, minus the finishing.)

So, my Christmas knitting is limited to two hats, and ½ of the Top Secret Project.

Not bad for having more than 25 days to finish, right?

It's beginning to seem a lot like... Christmas?

I would like to announce that I have bought both my mother's AND Andrew's Christmas gifts. I have also found a day for the Minion annual Holiday Extravaganza, and begun planning what I'd like set up for the holidays.

Also- does anyone know where I could get a prop guillotine for Halloween?

Here's my vision:

-Set up the guillotine in the front yard with a headless body. [This will be accomplished by stuffing some clothes with newspaper. I know, I'm truly an original thinker.]

-A puddle of red stuff at the base of the guillotine. [Ketchup/BBQ sauce on Saran Wrap so I don't stain the driveway.]

-Put a fake head in the bowl of candy.

-Knit with white wool. Use red dye to simulate blood spatter.

-Dress up in appropriate costume, sit and knit in front of the house, hand out candy. Speak with a bad French accent.

Strategic Planning

As Cindy pointed out- packing, moving, staging and fixing all take time. However will I finish the shawl in time- even WITH the spreadsheet?

I have come up with a list of strategies:

• Knit during my breaks at work and during lunch. I managed to hit my quota last Friday doing this.
• Take a vow of silence- I only managed to knit four rows at knit night last week.
• Quit sleeping. It seems to be a waste of 8-9 hours a night, since I wake up exhausted.
• Sub-contract the work. Ursula offered to knit on the shawl to expedite its completion.

More ideas to come.

A great birthday. Well, it was okay...

I've had a string of crappy birthdays. I don't really think it's my being born that was crappy, so much as having my birthday the same week as Thanksgiving. Sometimes, it's even on Thanksgiving. I know, it baffles the mind.

I could recount past birthdays that sucked, but let's stay in the now.

Memory Montage Scene: November 23rd, 2005

I get out of bed, like normal, get dressed for work, get my stuff together, Andrew sings a strange birthday song while doing a butt-dance. I think everyone should begin their day with a butt-dance.

I get to work, and everyone wishes me a happy birthday as they walk in. Woo. Proceed with normal work-day activities, including dealing with SnappyAdmin at one of the other offices. Nothing like being snapped at by the woman who invented unpleasantness on your birthday. Or any other day. Because today may be your last, you know? Some cliche philosophy for you, no charge.

My mom called me at like 8:05AM at work to sing me Happy Birthday, and Sam's call was promptly a few minutes later. AWESOME! Even better was when my father showed up at work.

Normally, my father showing up at work is a Bad Thing. But this time, he had a card for me. And in that card was MONEY! For me! I love money! (Always a good gift from my father, since he doesn't really know or like me.) It was by far, one of the best gifts I got this year. So far.

I took my lunch promptly on time. Since we were having cake at 2PM, that meant leaving a little before 1. We got out at 3PM that day. That's right, gentle audience. Jasmin drove her butt home for lunch (like she does every day), drove back to work for an hour, then drove back home. The sucky thing is, we had cake for like 45 minutes. I could have just taken the cake home at lunch, but where would the celebration be?

Let's add that the web guy called like two seconds before I was getting ready to pack up my stuff to haul my butt home, so I grab it in the empty office, with the lights off, thinking it was just another call to transfer to someone's voicemail. Oh no, it's a call for me. Somewhat important, too.

So picture this: here is your lovely heroine, chatting with the web guy (who is charming- I have no complaints with him) about the next step that needs to be taken, in a dark office, with my feet up on the desk.

My co-workers start closing up the office around me. As in, I walked down a dark hallway when I was finally done on the phone. This means, everyone left before me. Poop. Or as they say at Ikea, Püp.

No matter, I go home and play for a little while before Andrew gets home. We get our crap together, head over to Chevy's to find the Hopf crowd waiting for us. Woo! Now the REAL fun begins.

We have fun at dinner, and part of the dinner festivities were the Naked Man playing cards. These were to follow the theme of the Naked Woman playing cards that I got last year (that we proudly wore on our yellow pointy hats). The NW cards were straight out of the '80's. Oh yeah, they weren't even marginally attractive. The NM cards must have been produced by the same people, because there was a veritable plethora of mullets and unattractive men. A great gift, which we used while we waited in line for RENT to play "Go Fish" with. We ran into one of the guy's friends, lets call him... ScreamingQueen. Now, this is merely an allegation of his amazingly gayness, but I'm sorry, sistafriend- pink isn't for boys. It's just not. There's a reason you haven't had a girlfriend in years. It's because you're gay!

I like gay men. Usually, they like me. I don't like this one. I'll be polite to him, but that's all he gets from me. I thought he was hot in high school, before I had a CONVERSATION with him. Actually, it wasn't much of a conversation, so much as SQ speaking, and me trying to get in a word edgewise. Unsuccessfully. Imagine that.

It was really bad, every time someone would open their mouth to comment on something he had ASKED about, he would throw his hand up in your face ("talk to the hand" style), and speak even faster and louder. Really, people. No exaggeration necessary.

So, he decided to sit with us, since he was friends with my friends (no biggie, he didn't sit next to me and bug me). Ally grabbed the center seat behind the railing (a great choice), and we grouped in the first 2 rows around the center.

I sang. It was really fun, singing all out, and still hearing the movie loud and clear. Rumor has it that other people were singing, too, but I could hear anyone but Ally and Grace occasionally. Good times were had by all.

After that I totally pooped (püped) out and we went home, but it was freaking awesome. Thanks for a great birthday, guys!

Finished Object

Woo! I finished my pink wristers! They're AWESOME.

VEGAS, BABY!

On Friday, I skeedadled my behind from work at 5PM sharp, having previously done a hop-spin down the hallway to express my elation in the form of interpretive dance, since in an hour and a half I was GOING TO VEGAS!

Jealous? I knew you would be.

Since I am the QUEEN of good planning, I hadn't packed anything, but I pulled the clothes that I had chosen to wear to Avenue Q. Other than that, I could have done all of my clothes for the weekend in my backpack, but Andrew had the supreme forethought to bring my Cavaliers bag and not have our backpacks stuffed to the gills. This is a good thing.

We go to the airport, get dinner at the world reknown King of Burgers, and I get a latte, since we were getting in at about 10PM, I wasn't going to waste one minute in the hotel. Hopped up on caffiene and the hopes of winning a million dollars (my goal for the weekend), we headed for the security gates.

With all honesty, I understand why we have to show up early, and practically get cavity searched everytime we fly. Because people are scared. I'm not, but whatever. I enjoy the extra time to sit and read fluff. We walk through, and begin getting out of our shoes and coats, when someone knocks over their soda, right across the walkway...where we all are walking in socked feet. I found this terribly amusing, since I hadn't squished through it, so I laughed. Apparently, airport security was less amused. They didn't punish me or anything, but I thought, This five feet here is the ONLY place you go in socked feet. Of COURSE this is where a soda gets dumped.

Bear in mind that I am in a GREAT mood. That's how I could laugh at a potentially shitty situation.

We get though security fine, wait for maybe 15 minutes, then board the plane. Oh, and the carrier- America West- overbooks EVERYTHING. Both flights, they begged people to switch flights. Not us, we're headed for VEGAS, BABY!

For the duration of the flight, the man who sat next to me- a rather good-looking nerd-type- read, moving his lips the entire time. And I may add, that his personal hygene skills were not... adequate. Every time my shoulder brushed his (which was often, because sardines have more room to wiggle about, with all that convenient oil), he would shift uncomfortably, and glance at my chest. Soak it up, buddy, I'm in a good mood.

We get to Vegas! and the cab system at the airport is freaking BRILLIANT. Efficient. Within two minutes of de-planing, we're on a cab to our hotel. With a cab driver who sounds like he's going to die of emphezema any second.

It was a short ride to the Residence Inn (our hotel, free, courtesy of our credit card miles, same as our flight), so we got out, dropped our stuff and headed out for the strip.

It would be prudent to mention that my other goal for my Vegas trip was to see a taping of CSI and become a corpse on the show, which Andrew totally crapped on. But hope springs eternal, right?

We walk to the strip. We walked all the way AROUND the back way from the Residence Inn to the Strip. OhmyfreakingGod. Such a long walk. Seriously. In the 40 years where Moses and his groupies wandered around the desert, they didn't do more walking than we did that night.

We went into Treasure Island, which is terribly tacky and full of smokers. I played a few slots, lost about $3.00 (won $.75, but blew it in the effort to win the million. Dammit!), and we moved on. We walked down as far as Bally's, but not before yours truly managed to do some serious damage to herself. That's right, I pulled my groin muscle (Andrew says it's not, but it's the leg/crotch crease, which says "groin" to me) walking the freaking strip. Sooooo much pain.

All I can think to myself is "Oh my God. I am in so much pain and we have to walk our asses ALL THE WAY BACK to the hotel." Oh, and there was no rental car for the weekend, as we had planned to walk. And now I'm in grievous pain.

Andrew sees the sign for the Monorail, so we head towards it, in hope that it will take us closer to the hotel, so I don't have to schlep my gimpy backside all that way back. I limp all the way in to find that the Monorail is the greatest invention EVER. It has a stop ACROSS THE STREET from our hotel. I couldn't have been happier.

SATURDAY

We spent most of Saturday at the Star Trek Experience, which I thought was really fun. I enjoyed being able to see a chronological timeline of the Star Trek Universe. We went on the Klingon Encounter first, which was freaking awesome.

While in line for the "ride", they had a video playing with the EASIEST Star Trek trivia EVER. So easy, in fact, that the people in line were groaning at the simplicity. Two guys show up in command uniforms (red shirts), with pips designating them both as Captains. Normally, I wouldn't make fun of them (ok, I would), but this bears more mockery than normal.

On the ride, you end up on the deck of the Enterprise, and the people on the command deck are scuttling around resolving the conflict that the ride centers around. Here are two "captains" and they're standing around like dumbasses. A distinct lack of leadership ability makes me want to confiscate their pips and reduce them both to Ensign (rank: fodder). If they're Captains, I'm a freaking Admiral. I laughed at them. Silly nerds.

After that, we were FAMISHED, so we ate at Quark's Bar (which had REALLY good food), and we drank something called a "Borg Sphere"- a fishbowl FULL of alcohol- with dry ice for dramatic effect. Intended for two, so we shared it. The two of us managed to get about halfway done with it before we both were buzzed. The Ferengi running the bar mocked us for listing so early into our drink. It was cool. Then we went on the Borg Encounter, which was still fun, but not as cool as the Klingon one. I was especially entertained, because at one point, a Borg grabs one of the guides (who was right next to me). I considered letting loose a blood-curdling scream, but thought better of it, since I was not exactly sober. Next time, I'm going through that one sober and screaming.

We hit the gift shop (which is GREAT). We played the slots there afterwards, and we [Andrew] won like $90 on a Star Wars slot machine. After that, we got ready for the show and went to The Wynn.

The theater was beautiful. And full of old people. Seriously, with walkers and stuff. I leaned over to Andrew and pointed out the demographic that was in the theater- not exactly the crowd I would expect to see at this show.

The two old ladies next to me were discussing the show, and one said to the other "Do you know what this show is about?" to which her friend replied, "No, but I heard ads for it on the radio." I had to stifle my laughter, because they had NO idea what they had signed up for.

They didn't laugh once. Oh, and at "The Money Song", where they come out into the audience, the old people didn't catch on to pass the money to the hat. Stupid old people.

After the show, we had dinner, and headed back to the hotel (we were tired).

Sunday

We had brunch at a particularly heinous Tapas place, where they served me ceviche with bad fish and tried to convince me that it's Spanish ceviche, which is different from Mexican ceviche. Bad fish is bad fish, lady. I didn't say it wasn't delicious, I said "The fish has gone off." You bet it wasn't on the bill, I ate one bite and pushed it aside.

The airport was an enormous CF. The America West self-check in kiosks were down, which meant 8 gajillion people huffing and puffing about waiting in line. I read my book.

We finally board the plane, then sit there for an extra 20 minutes. Paperwork. Hmpf. We got home safe, had dinner with the family, greeted our puppies (who missed us sooooo much), and got to bed early because we were bone-tired. And not millionares. We're going again, eventually, seeing more shows, and staying at the Residence Inn again- specifically because it's not on the strip, but has easy access to everything.