Where's the Halloween spirit? This year I saw more adults dressed up than children, and a large percentage of the kids I saw walking around with trick-or-treat bags weren't even in costume. As my sister pointed out, kids weren't even dressed in costume to go to school. What a sad and sorry state it is that you can't send your kid to school dressed up for Halloween because there won't be a party and costumes just aren't up to dress code. How depressing for all the little kids in Lancaster. I can't vouch for Palmdale, just Lancaster.

Anyhow, we were out and although the house was decorated to within an inch of it's life, we ended up not getting back until 9, at which point all of our trick-or-treaters in the neighborhood had moved on to other 'hoods. Last year there were so many houses decorated for halloween, and this year, not so many. It was sad. But the house looked awesome!! You can peek at my flickr, but I have a special treat for you guys too!

Oooh creepy!

Just a couple more things before I go: I recieved a cool pattern book from my SP6 (where ever she may be...) "Unusual Toys For You To Knit and Enjoy" by Jess Hutchison. I'm way thrilled, so thank you, because it has the little square robot that I saw over on the craftster website--- and now I can't wait to work on him!! The toys in here are so cute, but not sappy cute, which is nice. Thank you thank you thank you secret pal6. I get confused between my two SPs because I am in the knitty sp, round 5, and the blog sp, round 6. :) THANK YOU AGAIN!

And finally, a loud and wonderful shout out to all of the people who are working on their novels this month for Nanowrimo! Way to go and goodluck!! I'm working along side you, and hope that what I can do is finish it, print the monster out and take it with me to keep me company in the hospital. Only 40 days left before I have the surgery. egads.

So, at the ungodly hour of 8 in the morning 7 to all of those who remember to change their clocks, my dogs were going ape-crazy in the front yard. Over the ruckus all I could hear was a gentle susurrus of forced air. I rushed out on to the porch, and hovering like a jewel in the sky was...

the giant ufo from Independence Day!!!!

No, really, it was a big balloon! Apparently some one in the park had a visitor from the hot air balloon fairy this morning; I am wondering if that is within the parameters of acceptable vehicles within the park limits (please don't mind my snarkyness-- you'd have to live here to understand that it's 100% justified!)

Don't you just love the bells? I got them at the Poppy Festival this year, and added them to my bell collection (please no It's A Wonderful Life comments) Knitting stuff to follow...

Much pillaging ensued.

Tonight/last night, I can't remember which, we went to a "Treasure Island" party at the college. I am pretty sure that it was meant for faculty, but there were a few students, so at least my sister and I didn't stick out even more. Not knowing what the hell we were going to, only that it had something to do with "Treasure Island" and we could dress like pirates, we said, "Arrrrr matey!" and got on our best sea-faring wear, then headed out to the college.

I can't name names but there were plenty of people there. And lots of scantily clad pirate wenches. We were treated to not one but five or six renditions of Treasure Island (only in clips; than God) a conga to the "Cabin Fever" song from Muppet Treasure Island, some fun walk-the-plank dancing, and some rather interesting lectures. Like I said, much fun was had by all.

even me.




I should say; the blackclad pirate wench with the comely smile'd be my wee babe o' a sister... and the scary big pirate in the back... well, that'd be me. Eeeek!

*squeal* so guess what I got in the mail yesterday? Have a gander below:

These are the collection of stitch markers I just recieved for one of the months of the stitch marker swap. Holy cow I was shocked. I sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo wanted someone to send me a sheep and check it out; I got paired with the sheepmaker herself. If that isn't enough to convince you of the cuteness, even the husbeast/pervert liked the sheep.

Look at the purty blue eyes!! How can I not be in love?

And finally a snowkid ornament. Oooh. If pumpkins and candy corn are my two favorite halloween icon/symboly thingies then Snowmen and Penguins (okay and snowflakes, gingerbread men, candy canes, and old fashioned christmas bulb lights) are my favorite Christmas icon/symboly thingies. :) Isn't he adorable?!!?!?! The glitter looks a little yellowy in the photo but in real life it doesn't. WOW! Thank you! you can find more stuff @ www.kimhartdesigns.com

Last but not least... Megan won her class's costume competition. They had to dress up like a character from one of their favorite books and then bring the book to class. Megan brought Eloise Goes to Paris, which has the absolute cutest song in it about cheese being fromage and fish being poisson at the beginning... anyhow here's Megan dressed as Eloise.

Close up with a look at the book, smiling and oh-so happy!

And now on the way to school. A little blurry but it's the most Eloise-ish picture! She's skibbling her way to school!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

on a side note, this semester is dragging like a mo-fo for me. Seriously there are days when I can't bear to drag myself out of bed and get to class. Some days I have to force myself to make an effort. Luckily I need to be in class, so I usually wind up there. Today I really really really didn't want to go but the only thing that made me go was that I wanted to critique someone's story; which I got to. I like a lot of the people in my classes; there's the hopeless group (to whom I belong) in my french 101 class, the two guys I sit next to in comm 101 who are strangely the only two I talk with, the usual suspects over in the MM department, the one or two people who bother reading their assignments before answering the questions for my online class, and then the people in my creative writing class. Most of them I like. It was funny because one of the came up to me and asked me about my apparent facial features during the discussions today... note to self, must keep rage more under the surface. I think that it is an apalling thing to say to ANOTHER student that unless they are a president they can't be that interesting (and yet this person, long winded as he is, continues to go on about himself ad nauseum during class times) and then follow that up with something I would only ever expect to hear out of a teacher, "For your next piece I'd like to see..." I think that was when I decided that the gauntlet had been tossed and to hell with common decency. I've decided to act like a middle-aged (or elderly some might say) man instead of an adult.

grrr argh

There's no better word for explaining how I feel. I'm all antsy and grrrr-arghy. My head is buzzing and I have a mother of a headache (again). This started last night during class, continued when I got home and on through me picking up the lil sis @ college, she hasn't been driving herself because of the walk from the parking lot--- I don't blame her. I weigh nearly double what she does but I don't have a heart condition and I have a tough time with the walk. So her husband drives her there, and then I pick her up since her husband is at home with their 2 year old. Anyhow, driving home she regaled me with potty training stories. And my head still hurt. When I got home I went to bed, got up after a futile 1.5 hours in bed, took a shower, watched Medium, got back in bed, and participated in something that looked like sleep I am sure. I swear to you I was kicking my sheets and thrashing about in bed like you wouldn't believe. I was pretending I had epilepsy or something.
So now I am awake and have been, more than 2 hours earlier than I usually wake up, staring at the mean side of a really long day. What the hell is going on? Is this strange feeling nervousness, stress, agravation, energy, or something else entirely. It had better not be hyperactivity or I am going to shoot someone.
Explanation: when I was first diagnosed with 'extreme aural migraines' I noticed a trend of behavior. Approximately 4-8 hours before (sometimes less, sometimes more) the onset of a migraine I would get really hyperactive. The mentioning of this during a session for my PPD led to a wonderfully fun misdiagnosis of bipolar disease (hahaha---my ass). So I would get happy, energetic, and be all bouncy for any where from a couple of hours to a day. Mostly I just annoyed the f--k out of my family. Then like an acme safe in a cartoon, I would come crashing down and hard. I'd be nauseas, my head would hurt, there'd be the light and smell sesitivities and like that I would be out of commission.
If I am about to get one of those migraines I am going be so pissed, I am telling you.

sigh.

On a side note, today Megan goes to school dressed up for halloween (er pardon, "harvest") as Eloise. I love love love Eloise, and last year when Megan caught the Eloise movie on tv, she fell fell fell for her! I cannot tell you how much we love Eloise, Nanny, Weenie, and Skiperdee! The only bad part is when we visit her Daddy in the hotels he works on Megan has a tendency to think every hotel is the Plaza and that if Eloise can run rampant, so can she. I will have a picture later.

Also, my nephew, Kellar has graduated to a "big boy bed" and has discovered the amazing thrill of the freedom it provides. He's had a couple of late-night walkabouts that have been amusing, as well as scary I am sure. Personally, if I had only been living in a house a few weeks and a glowing pumpkin face came down my hallway in the pitch black of night, it would take me a little too long to process the information and I'd be screaming my head off before I remembered my 2 year old. (no, I am being serious) Once when Megan was 2 or 3 I remember waking up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. At some point while I was on the toilet (in the dark) Megan must have gotten out of her room and come into ours. Anyhow, I must have walked right past her in the dark, because as I was getting into bed I saw a shadow by the desk and when I saw it move I screamed like crazy, which terrified Megan, who began screaming herself--which was when I realized it was her at the foot of the bed, which basically woke up the husband monster who was not in a very good mood.

Today signifies the beginning of xmas production. My Rogue, having been cast aside since March or April comes out of the closet this afternoon. :)

Angela

Yep. It was Beneful dog food. The only thing is, that's the side that IS NOT supposed to be open. I picked it up to feed the dogs outside and the bottom ripped, spilling food all over my livingroom floor. pooh.

I'm glad everyone liked the pumpkins... I will have a tutorial up I think soon.

But quick, there's more!!

Glittery pumpkins! a la Martha Stewart! So much fun, and so pretty too!!!

I always know my day is going to just get somehow... better... when I a. oversleep, b. can't drop Megan at school because it's too late and she freaks when she gets a tardy, and c. crap like this happens:




well, at least Megan is home so I can make her clean it up. Always look on the bright side, eh?

I want to know where the sudden interest in bugs is coming from. Granted, the Yaldiv aren't as scary as the Killiks but still, that's a lot of bugs. I'm being glib to keep from crying. The end of this book was beautiful. I want to go pet my dog.

I have been reading Diane Duane's Young Wizard's series since I was 14 or thereabouts. My 7th grade English teacher gave me a gift certificate (back in the old days before giftcards) to a local bookstore (not a huge chain either, amazing!) when I graduated Junior High. So You Want To Be A Wizard seriously caught my eye. In it, Nita Callahan finds her wizard's manual in the kids section of the library, around the rest of the So You Want To Be A... books. They were books that I remembered (and still do) fondly from my days as a young reader. And so, a relationship was forged. I read, breathless in anticipation as Nita met Kit, battled It in Manhattan, they swam with sharks, I read on while Darianne had her ordeal, when Nita visited Ireland, when Nita's mom died... and watched a wizarding exchange program get turned around into something immense.

I will forever love Nita, Kit, Darianne, Tom and Carl, Ponch, and Carmella more than I could ever love Harry, Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, Dumbledore, McGonnogal, and Ginnie. For one thing, they seem more realistic. And for another, they got me first. The idea that wizardry is a choice, not just a happy accident by birth, is amazing. The idea that along with the ability to do wizardry is a responsibility to take care of the Universe and slow down entropy is even more amazing. Of course, spending a decade waiting for Nita and Kit to wise up... well that's another thing. (on the one hand they are great friends and I would hate to see them break apart... but then again on the other hand I am happily married to my best friend and I would like them to experience it too. Plus literature doesn't have to be like poor television! Just because they get together doesn't mean they can't STAY together... I promise I will be interested in everything else)

That said, I think that as much as I have been in and out of book stores over the last six weeks it (and in the kid's section) it is absolutely criminal that I only just now read this. The funny thing is the last 3 times I was at Barne's and Noble I checked for the wizard's books, and 3 weeks ago I recommended the Wizard's series to a girl at Waldenbooks... maybe the time was just right.

So here's a question for those of you who KNOW what I am yammering on about... how many of you read the oath out loud?

angela

I like to go snoop around on notmartha.org sometimes; she has awesome stuff and tutorials for some nifty things. I also like looking lustfully at her cupcakes. She makes gorgeous cupcakes. So when she posted about the LL Bean ice cream ball and responded with a link to some ice cream in a bag and similar home made ice cream recipes, I couldn't resist. Me and Megan spent Friday evening making ice cream; which was cool.

What's even cooler is that it reminded me of a similar thing from my childhood; making butter in babyfood jars in the second grade. So while we were shopping for the ice cream goods, we grabbed a few jars of baby food and some heavy whipping cream. We were too caught up in the fun just now to take any before and during pictures, but here are some "after" pictures. I will post a link to a complete thing later. I added about a third of a teaspoon of salt to the whipping cream when it got about soft peak stage. At first I thought I over salted it, but once the butter began forming and the liquid separated, MOST of the salt went with the liquid, and I ended up with a smooth, creamy, just a tad bit yellowy WITHOUT FOOD COLORING! woo hoo! butter. It was awesome.

Without further ado... BUTTER and some blueberry muffins on which to eat it. :)




Also, I had a comment from someone regarding viewing my flickr... I have no clue, but I am working on it, promise. :)

I've been crafting! yippee!

Mostly for other people, but oh well.

I knitted a scarf, started a hat, and finished a pumpkin. Oh fiddlesticks. I forgot that I am only 1/2 way thru something. Ah well, at least it's a tiny project... let's see... what else? I finally finished the pillows from ages ago. I will have pics and things soon.

On Wednesday I had AWESOME news. My insurance deemed a roux en y bariatric surgery (mine is the Fobi Pouch). I will be going in for surgery on the 13th of Decemeber, one day after my birthday. It will be the second time in my life that I have had surgery on the day after my birthday. The year I turned nine I brought my birthday present (a babydoll) to class and freaked out my teachers because it was so realistic. Walking from my 6th grade level English class** to the auditorium where my classmates were, I got a sharp stabbing pain in my side. I told my teacher, she sent me to the nurse. The nurse checked my temp and sent me back to class. The pain got worse, I got to go back to the nurse again, who did the same thing. The second time back to class I could barely walk, I was limping and in so much pain that I was crying. My teacher, Thank GOD had already had apendicitis and sent me back to the nurse and told her in no uncertain terms to call my parents. When they somehow patched me, my mom and my pediatrician together on the phone I bawled my eyes out and told them that it hurt more than when I had the MCUG earlier that year, everything moved pretty quickly. I was in surgery by nine that evening, and had my appendix removed (yay!). The only down side was that the girl in the bed next to me was uuuuuuuuber religious and although I had been waiting to see the She-Ra He-Man special on tv (PRIME TIME dude) when I went to the bathroom the ******'s mother changed the freaking channel. You know, I still haven't seen the She-Ra He-Man special... how annoying.
Anyhow, I get to have my stomach done up and my intestines reconfigured (yay!) and one day maybe I will be smaller like the rest of the world. I'm thrilled, excited, and a little scared. Before I used to think, oh if I ever get down to x ammount of pounds I will take a hot air balloon ride. But now, with the surgery, I can go all the way. By the time I hit where the surgery is done doing all it can, I hope to be on a good diet and excercise regime so that I can finish the weight loss for myself. I have 250lbs to go if I want to be "about right" for my height. I would be thrilled to weigh less than 200lbs. But now, so many chances are open to just my imagination that I am amazed with the possibilities. I could skydive or bungee jump, parasail, do things that I always thought looked cool but automatically dismissed because there was NO way I'd be under the weight limit. How cool is that?

On the needles right now? One small giftie for a secret pal, 2 squares, a beanie in Rowan Biggie Print, and soon my Erica Weiner scarf, hurrah!

**by the time I graduated kindergarten I was reading 2nd grade level. By the time I hit 2nd grade my school librarian had let me have run of the library in a very Matilda-ish fashion. This may not sound all that big of a deal but they used to keep certain sections of our K-6th grade school library separated by grade... and I was the only kid in my class who got to read the Serindipity books!! (such awesome books, have you ever read them? leave a comment) Then in the 3rd grade my teacher started sending me to Mr. Trichelt(sp) the 6th grade teacher for English. Every day when my class was starting the Enlish lesson (or something else, who knows I can't remember) I would have to walk across campus to the 6th grader's area and take class with kids who felt twice my age and were about twice my height. When we were reading Ramona Quimby, I was learning how to write essays, reading... stuff... and getting to do some pretty awesome Language Arts assignments; a video cast of a made up interview, making my own board game... it was awesome! I miss grade school... can I go back?

On the school front; je francais proffeseur extremely dislikes moi, my speech teacher is a little harder to nail down, and my English teacher was thrilled by my pointy nipple man. :)

byebye

well... I tried to find a picture to put up of the pervert (aka my husband) but I couldn't in time so this will have to do. My standard query when looking for him is as follows:

"Um, excuse me? Have you seen a very tall, scary looking man walk past this way?"

Anyhow, hi hon, I hope you enjoy my blog :) Love and kisses, me.

You are likely aware of your writing abilities, angela, but you may not realize just how talented you are. It would be worthwhile for you to consider devoting more time to honing your craft. You can't expect to improve much when your writing time is scattered in between other obligations. You need large blocks of uninterrupted time in order to really produce something of value. Why not give it a try, even if just for a week or so, to see what you are capable of.

My horoscope for tomorrow. Hmm, I should give it a thought.

Let me tell y'all a story while my photos are uploading to flickr. A long time ago, in the spring of 98, I visited a soothsayer (no really, she called herself a soothsayer, I am not being pretentious) at a renaissance faire. I was young, 18, madly in love with an enormously tall and gaunt Nordic looking Brit named Ken, who I was travelling to meet in a week's time. I had also just recently met someone online who was into some of the things I was and wildly sexual, but let's not get into that now.

My fortune teller told me several interesting things. First that an old lover would come back into my life (ahhh that old saw), second that a blonde would cause me pain, but the darker haired man would make me happy. Third, that my new love interest would come to me through writing and that we would be very successful together. Finally, she told me that my stepfather would be ill sometime in the fall.

All of this cost me about $25 and I was more than greatful to pay for it, if only for the fifteen minutes sitting in the shade and off of my feet. Days came and went and soon enough I forgot about the soothsayer's spiel. Then I got an unexpected call the night before leaving for England. From my ex. Trying to patch things up. Hmmm, this is interesting. Then I met the writing pervert from the internet in person, and lo and behold he had dark hair (oooh spooky!). But, wait, there's more!! I went up to Manchester, and met the lovely and fair Ken. Who also turned out to be a self-centered egomaniacal lush, but there you go. Back to London and the pervert. We decided to partner up on a writing project together, and kept in contact over the course of my trip all 'round the UK. By the time I left for home, we were talking to eachother on a daily basis. a month after my return he would ask me to go on a trip around the United States with him. A month later my dad would be having problems and seeing a doctor because he was sick. Very interesting.

Now, flash back to the week I got my fortune told. The pervert was at a palmist's on Tottenham Court Road, just past Oxford Street, getting his fortune read. His fortune was (paraphrased here) that he would soon meet the person that he would be with for the rest of his life; his soul mate, if you will.

coincidence?! I think not.

Of course, after he came to California for our trip around the US, we found out that we bickered constantly, got on eachother's nerves, and practically the only good thing about our relationship was that the sex was good and we could read the same books. (just kidding)(but what about?!) So anyways, yeah. Here we are Spring of 98 to Fall of 05. 7 years and 4 months or so from the day I last saw a fortune teller. I don't think I can handle seeing another one. What with the husband, house, and mostly happy (sometimes not) life I wound up with after the last visit...

and now, for something completely different!
the pictures I promised! via flickr.
look to the right (i guess)

I have a lot to post (kind of went on a picture frenzy). I will be updating tomorrow. Today I found the Knitting Pattern-A-Day 2006 calendar on my porch. I honestly have no idea when it arrived, since the postman stuck it somewhere where I normally don't look... so, SP6 THANK YOU and please don't think I have been tardy in my thanks. I also have my SP5 prezzie pictures to upload too; I promise, tomorrow.

This cheered me up immensly today, you have no idea. And then, I found a letter from Barry that he wrote about a month or so after we returned to America, almost five years ago to the day. Reading it made me want to cry; so much has gone by, we've each grown so much since then. And in someways I am still the same, self centered harping little whiny bitch I was before. That makes me soooo mad. I miss him so much today, but when I read the letter it was like I could see with perfect 20/20 hindsight vision, just exactly what was going to happen. And as blameless as I like to sometimes hold myself, I am not-- he was and IS a lot more helpful to me than I give him credit for. sniffle.

First their pizza crust is nasty. Second, crap like this, taken directly from my letter of complaint to their complaint center:

Hello. I made an order today for a medium steak pizza, and a special from your recent flyer (large 1 topping, breadsticks, and 2lt Coke $15.99). The person taking my order opened up with asking me twice, "what do you want?" Then he went on to take my order, telling me that my phone number was "evil" because of the last four digits. This would have been ok. However, once he reached the total he told me the total and said "goodbye" and hung up before asking me how I wished to pay.

Consequently, an hour and a half later when my delivery man showed up (whatever happened to the good old days when it took 30 minutes?) I tried to hand him a personal check. This was quickly refused, and upon my informing him that no one asked me how I was paying he brusquely asked for a credit card, of which I didn't have. So. He left. With the dinner I had been waiting for an hour and a half for. I am not frustrated with the delivery man, he doesn't make the rules. However, I am sorely upset with the person who took my order. (Upon calling the Domino's in question, I was informed that there were several men working and ok, we get your complaint. No one even bothered to apologize.) This person didn't identify himself by name, and so I don't know who took my order. I am quite upset with the level of service I recieved today.

Thank you very much,

Angela Foltz

My daughter was sad, but told me it was okay and that she was sorry because, "I know how much you were looking forward to the pizza." Truth be told, it was that frosty 2 liter bottle of Coke I was longing after, but there you go.

Poor poor poor baby.

This morning as I was sitting in my car, waiting my turn to leave the chaos that is an elementary school parking lot at 8:15am, I was immersed in self loathing--about my parenting style. I, ladies and gentlemen, am one of those mothers. You know the kind, I know you do. I saunter into school at 8:30am, my dishevelled kindergartener in tow, and all she has for lunch is a jar of martini olives (ok, just kidding about the lunch). My clothing for the time of day is always inappropriate, I am either just as dishevelled, wearing evening clothes, or worse, bag-lady clothing. My kid leaves her homework at home all the time (she's five so yeah, it IS my fault) and already I can tell that her Kindergarten teacher has labelled me as one of those mom's too. They are the moms that never help out, are always to harried, who's kids you can pick apart from the others based on appearances or lunches alone.

But then I was saved, by the radio and Nicholas Cage. I at least had the good sense to name my daughter Megan, something that while it may be a little too popular for her birthyear (sorry sweetie-- I was actually trying to be original) is at least tasteful and won't garner her any additional teasing on account of her name. Nicholas Cage on the other hand has saddled his poor newborn with the moniker "Kal-El" which we all know is Clark Kent's Kryptonian name. This is cute and cuddle at birth and through the first few years when mommy and daddy are the only people screaming "Kal-el" at him; by the time he hits 11 and all of his school cronies know who Kal-El was, oh boy here comes the teasing.

Don't get me wrong, I think it's great they had the guts; what to name our next baby has been a constant rift between me and my husband for the last three years. I want something tasteful, like "Corran Valin Michael*" and my husband wants something dreadful like "Alexander Harris Michael*"... see we just can't quite agree which pop-culture sidekick we want to pay homage to in the form of our child's birthname.

Ok... I have some leftover mohair like you can see here if you can tell me who Corran and Alexander are and where they are from. By leftover, I mean full balls, at least 3. :)
Post in comments.

So I kind of missed the blogging train.

After a year or so of waiting I finally made it onboard both of the Secret Pal trains, and I'm even on the Random Acts Of Kindness train too. I should be chortling in glee. I'm in the loop; I have subscribers!! I go to knitting meetings and sip my way through chic iced tea while sharing all my knitterly knowledge and learning from others. I'm involved in swaps and people leave comments on my blog.

But I still missed the train.