Technically, this is more of a how I spent my Saturday night, because I spent my Sunday driving, shopping, and blowing up watermelons. With explosives. It was fun. (And, a side note, it was in no way shape or form part of my 'mania' so I am completely absolved of all involvement.)

First. I lost a set of size 1 bamboo dpns. But I knew that they were in the bag with the purple Touch Me that I took to the hospital for my bypass (I actually took 2 projects and never touched a single needle). So I tore my office/craft room apart and piled ANYTHING related to knitting/spinning on my bed:

Yes, it actually took up most of a queen sized bed. Side note: don't you just love my sheets? They have stars and moons on them and they are flannel, my absolute FAVORITE.

So that was whittled away, sorted through and looked at. I should have remembered that I had brought my knitting in my silk lantern moon bag... *sigh* I culled a bunch of yarn, but more on that later. First, check out this:

Oh yeah baby. I love it. There's a crap load of noro which I am determined to knit a market squares bag with just as soon as the book comes from Webs (which I bought with a gc from a former SP :) Thank you!) The green stuff is alpaca, so is the brown. The glowy white stuff is hemp for my cocktail monkey CLOCK which I still haven't started. then the blue green stuff is some cherry tree hill sock yarn for my lil' sis and if you look close there's some green and purple sherpherds sock yarn for my grandma's socks. Theres other stuff too, but you get the picture.

And now we come to the fun part of the contest:

No you can't have megan, she's just there for scale. I am giving away this WHOLE BAG of yarn. I'm not going to lie. Some of it is caron or even red heart. Some of it is Lion Brand. Some of it is nice stuff, and there's like 3 or 4 balls of maroon merino from maylaysia (I think). It's all freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. So. What do you have to do? Post in my comments what you do to cheer yourself or someone up. The best response gets the whole bag. Postage paid.

Oh crap.
My felted lily needs to be fetched from the washer...

god. Gargomel passed away yesterday (Monday, April 24th) I think he had a stroke or something because he looked like my grandma did right before she finally died after her big stroke. I was wrecked. So I took the rental car off roading--- that was fun.

AV Ford should have my car repairs done by tomorrow, hopefully. The bill? A jaw dropping, astounding $570 unless they don't find a problem with the emissions (which they SHOULD because you can SMELL GAS WHEN YOU ARE DRIVING AROUND!! grrr) it will be $88 more. Fuck. But the rental is covered so I will get most of my deposit back. Yay! It will go straight to AV Ford though, so boo.

I finished a calla lilly that I picked up from WildFiber in Santa Monica on Friday after I signed the papers to have my father cremated. Let's see... I watched Medium, last week's Smallville, and the 2 hour episode of Alias and now it is complete.

That's a quarter to show you scale. I haven't knit on size 10 needles in what seems like FOREVER!! I was shocked at how quickly the knitting went. The trickiest part was the light green area of the stem. Now all I have to do is thread a ribbon through the icord and weave in the end before felting away! Yippee.

Oh, and the remains from sp5 or something... I purchased a kpixie.com gift certificate but realized that my name would be included so decided to keep it for me. I finally got around to cashing it in on this:

Click the picture, but it's a needle felting kit to make itty bitty chickies. Yay! How cute. Of course, I am not 100% sure I should be handling anything that sharp at the moment so will probably have my sister hold on to them for me.

The doctors have me on lexapro and now zyprexa (olanzapine) for what they have decided is bipolar disorder. I was diagnosed in 2001 but was skeptical. I still am. However. In light of reading and personal notations on behavior, I am starting to realize that maybe they weren't wrong.

Mostly this comes from spending a greater part of my day thinking about how much fun it would be to go and try to flip the rental car over (as many times as possible) with myself in it. Even now as I write this I am thinking, "Hell ya! it would be a blast! What would it feel like to have the car be airborne... that is awesome!" Which is totally insane.

Poor poor people on bloglines... 3 posts in as many hours?! I should be ashamed of myself.

One of the things that made me go see a psychotherapist was my brain. It just wasn't right for lack of a better word. It was always 'on'. Back in highschool and early college I used to sit in class and write out the lyrics to songs, songs that were in my head. I got fairly decent grades so it didn't detract from my schoolwork, but at the same time there were times when I just couldn't NOT write out the lyrics. So when I started getting songs stuck in my head again I was a little wary. Then. Jeeze. One night I lay in bed, try to sleep while listening to Barry type on the computer. I got a song stuck in my head. But before I could even finish a line or two I jumped to the next song; but with no correlation between songs (so think a jumbled, fucked up version of the Elephant Medley from Moulin Rouge) even when I realized that it simply was not normal I couldn't stop myself. THAT freaked me out and I got up and took some sleeping pills.

I was really tired today. Like majorly. And for about 1hr after I took the Lexapro I was happily drowsy. Now, even though I am tired and want to sleep, my mind is saying crap (and you know this is crap) like, "Angela lets do ALL of the laundry" and "Angela there are 19 episodes of X show on Tivo to watch--- not to mention Prime and Jarhead" or "Angela, let's take a shower then put in Carmen Electra's Strip Tease Aerobics and exercise---at 3 oclock in the morning!!" but I think my favorite is this one "Angela lets clean the house and take the garbage out--- that way we could go outside!! OUTSIDE! HEY, WE COULD GO OUTSIDE!" And before you think, no f--king way is that happening; I am having all the thoughts, or just did before I stopped trying to think, but they weren't audible and none of them were actually addressed 'Angela'. However, the going outside thing seemed really appealing, which is bothersome because it's 3 am and the last time I was on my porch at 3 am I caught some freakazoid wierdo on my neighbor's porch watching me while I tried to keep my bathrobe shut and deal with Roadkill. *shudder* which well freaked me out, you know?

Anyhow, I am going to opt for the laundry so I can vacuum in my office tomorrow. I kinda sorta want to change my bed (god knows it needs it) but then if I changed my bed I'd have to take a shower and I just wasted twenty minutes typing on blogger... (I have this THING about being icky and then getting into a clean fresh bed-- it just isn't the done thing. eww gross) ok. ttfn

hopefully I wont come back for a few hours. Now I am starting to understand why sometimes I am overly annoying and it gets on Barry's nerves. It's so nice of him to have stuck with me through everything. 7 years is a long time. :)

In case I didn't mention before, on Monday Dr. Berman diagnosed me as being bipolar. This is not the first time I have had a psychologist or even a psychiatrist give me that diagnosis. (I still don't like it though.)

Anyhow, I just read something very very interesting on mydna.com (which I now cannot access for some bizarre reason). Anyhow. It said that sometimes vitamin b-12 deficiency can be mistaken for bipolar disorder.

Why is this so interesting?

Vitamin b-12 deficiency is a very common problem among gastric bypass patients. I did, of course, inform my psychotherapist that I had recieved a gastric bypass in December. However... there was no b-12 deficiency back in 2001 when I first heard the diagnosis. ::hanging head:: jesus.

I got my prescription for Lexapro today. I am trying to remind myself that it will take awhile to get it pumping through my veins. Anita, my NP, was reluctant to put me on Lexapro since it's related to Prozac, but did it anyways after I promised to come back and see another Doctor in her office and get put on an auxillary med. I am a littwary of doing so w/out consulting Dr. Berman but he has gone away for a [much needed] vacation. So we shall see.

The gear shaft in my car has been pissing me off lately--- every time I go to take my car out of park I have to pump the breaks, knock the damn gear doohickey with my hand and just generally jerk around with the whole thing before it will pop out of park. Finally, after messing with it to the point of being in tears I decided that I am in NO shape to be dealing with it and that if I left it was it was I was going to end up having a breakdown in my car (how embarassing) I took the damn car to Rally. Of course since it's a Ford they told me to go to Ford and I told them that my warranty says to take it to them (I hate this song and dance. NEVER buy a used car from a dealership that doesn't do service on your brand of car because it is brand specific!) Went to Ford and was told the whole BS line about how according to my warranty to get a disappearing deductible... blah blah blah. I am now driving a Hundyai? Elantra which is pretty spiffy and Megan likes cuz of the sunroof. It turns out that the entire shifter assembly needs to be replaced. I also figured, what the hell, and had them look into the shaking and the emission smell coming from the vents. Hopefully they can fix that stuff to because I have a LONG drive coming up.

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More drama. Wednesday I called the Neptune Society (I always thought it was creepy to name a cremation society after the God of the Sea, yes technically loads of cremated people are burried at sea but the idea of there being a cremation society in the first place is right up there on my list with "scientology"-- speaking of which, a very nice man talked to me about something called Apologetics which was like Christianity and Science... very interesting) Back to the NS. I called them, laid it on the line, and they are cremating my father for $500. I have to drive down on Monday to sign the paperwork, but that means by the end of April he'll be sorted. Which means that after the semester is blissfully over, we're probably driving to New Mexico to visit my grandma. So. I have 2-3 weeks to find the perfect sock yarn and knit her some small-sized socks because she needs them to be tight. hmmm. :) I would love to do them in Carbon Dating colorway Socks that Rock. Beautiful. I love socks that rock.

anyhow. I am getting sleepy (which is nice because I just found out that Megan did not do what she was told to do and am now quite angry.)

ttfn

When I started knitting I started with size 7 needles. From there I went up to 8s and 10s and for awhile played around with the higher ranges before descending to the lower ones. When I started knitting toys I found I was usings 2s and 3s alot and then finally one day I came to use size 1s and 0000s. I fell in love.

When I knit my first sock I had a great deal of fear in doing the heel, but that quickly disappeared as the sock began to form before my very eyes! Now I am caught up in a dreaded sort of sock fever. I just knit most of the bunny http://www.magknits.com/Apr06/patterns/bunny.htm from magnits and now know that I definitly want to do some socks. Only trouble is... which patterns and where to get sock yarn?!?

So when I was first married to my husband I learned all about how this girl (his "Jenny" if you will. A "Jenny" is every man's unattainable girl 'friend' with whom they wanted more but never got it.) named Michelle was always called Bunny by his parents because she "rabbits on" ie. she talks. Incessantly. I disliked her on the spot. As my marriage has grown, the one time it foundered Miss Bunny started contacting my husband on a regular basis, calling, writing, etc. When he went out on the road and started working for my mom and dad she also started up calling and writing AGAIN. Just here lately she has supposedly sent mail but it has never reached us. There's suspiscion on me as to hiding the letters away but I can't really be bothered. Blah. Anyhow. They called her Bunny and still do and it's annoying. Just like the phrase "she's a happy bunny" or "I'm not a happy bunny" which is something his side of the family says alot. She may be why I sympathize with Anya from Buffy (the girl who is afraid of bunnies). :)

Anyhow, here's a pic of me and in it I am a very happy Bunny indeed.



See that dot on my nose? It's not a pimple! It's a nose ring! Yep. Instead of dying my hair (which is rapidly falling out and thinning---pooh) purple, I got my nose pierced. It was a strange experience. Oh yeah and I have bunny ears on my head.

http://www.theknittingdiva.com/blog/2005/08/secret-diary.html

Ok.

Yeah.

I am just about right there again. I just want to lay down and never, ever get up again. I'm not saying life is meaningless or anything. Just that I am tired and don't have the neccessary energy to make myself keep going. I'm walking around in a cloud wishinging for some bright spark or something to light up my day...

I'm supposed to pick up the kitty today. I don't feel like it.

*sigh*

I got an ecard from my knittyboard sp6 which was nice. :)

Ok. I love Queen. Yeah, I admit it. I can rock out to Queen and I like most of their music. Bohemian Rhaphsody, We Will Rock You, Fat Bottomed Girls, Under Pressure, Another One Bites the Dust, You're My Best Friend, Friends Will Be Friends, Killer Queen, Somebody to Love, Under Pressure, Love of My Life Don't Leave Me, '39, I'm In Love With My Car.... I loved them all. I had an old tape that me and my little sis would listen to over and over (sometimes giving Queen a break for The Mamas and the Papas) incessantly.

So last week when my husband chuckled with an evil gleam in his eye and announced that the Idols were doing Queen, my stomach started hurting. And tonite, when I watched--horrorstruck-- I realized that my stomach ache was nothing compared to the trainwreck that was tonight's episode.

Bucky killed Fat Bottom Girls and turned it into some sucktastic country western song (as did the Pickle with Bohemian Rhaphsody---what the hell was she thinking?) Ace? I am all for putting your own spin on something; but not at the cost of what you're spinning on. Sorry, he sucked too. McPhee was ok. Daughtry? Whatever. I wasn't surprised/amused/anything. What really killed it for me was Elliot. He sucked. He sucked hard. He sucked so hard I can't even remember what the hell he sang---that is how hard it sucked. OH NO WAIT. NOW I REMEMBER!! He attempted to sing Somebody to Love one of my most favorite songs of all time and one that even my six year old can sing along with. Ugh. He slaughtered it. And what's worse; Simon, who I can usually rely on to "have my back" was praising him. *barf**barf**barf* YURGH.

Then comes Taylor Hicks with This Thing Called Love, yeah his mike stand kick was kind of sucky and he is the epitome of the phrase "white men can't dance" but still. I played his bit over twice (gotta love Tivo) And what does Simon do? Ask him if he is drunk. gawd.

Then comes Paris. I love Paris, yeah she is chipper to a fault but she can sing and she's fantastic. I liked her rendition of the Show Must Go On. It was cool. It deserved better remarks than the backhanded non-remark Simon gave her. If I had to guess who the top four would be (or say who I want them to be) it would be Taylor Hicks,Chris Daughtry, Katherine McGhee, and Paris Bennet.

Bucky and Pickler need to leave; stat. Followed quickly by Elliot and I'm-too-sexy-for-this-show-Ace. Gag me.

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Nummers. I can't be the only woman in America who is in love with Hugh Laurie as House. Nummy Nummy Nummy. That is all I can say. Well, that and HOLY COW AGING DID HIM A WORLD OF GOOD BECAUSE HE LOOKED LIKE A SKINNY FREAK ON BLACK ADDER, but he was funny. I like his dark sarcasm on House, and the way he needles everyone. It just sucks that he has to have an American accent because I've a weakness for British accents *snicker* You know one of my all time ultimate ::swoon:: worthy accents? John Hannah. When I was a teenager someone sent me a mixed tape that had the bit of him reading "Funeral Blues" from 4 Weddings and a Funeral, and the first time I listened to it I got chills all over my body. To this day "Funeral Blues" is at the top of my list of favorite poems, right up there with "Love's Philosophy" and "A Woman's Shortcomings" as well as a handful of others. I guess you can tell that I run towards the fiercly romantic type. Of course, I wish I could send John Hannah a micro cassette recorder and copies of those poems....

Anyhow who knows when this post will go up. My friggin' hosting is DOWN DOWN DOWN and that sucks beyond belief. Farther than beyond belief since I have a massive ammount of domains and they are all down--- 10 in all. Some of them are not that important. 4 of them are really only 2 with different tlds (a .net and a .com for each domain name) BUT THAT IS BESIDES THE POINT. I have too much stress for this.

*edit* 2 hours and 30minutes later.... my hosting is finally working properly. Now I understand, fully understand, why some people just wig out when their hosting goes down. Maybe I can sleep now.

ooh ooh ooh! 86 lbs in 116 days!! That's still almost a pound a day (.74 something actually, but who's counting?!)

can you believe it? Me, under 300 lbs. in 17 lbs I will weigh what I did when I was 18. OMG

I'm amazed.

This is my prospective cat. We found him @ the pound today when we went to see how much Roadkill's liscense was going to cost. I am kind of forgetful and thought that your dog had to be a year old to get a liscense (nope) so was waiting till August. Apparently not. So after last night's scare when we came home and he was MISSING after he broke his collar and jumped the fence, I realized I need to get him a license ASAP. Well. It's the same story as with the guinea pig. We went for one thing, and came out with an extra. The line was so freaking!!! long that I decided to take Megan into the kennels while Barry stood in line, and this little guy was all friendly and break your heart adorable. *sigh* We almost managed to get out without him since Barry didn't see him, but as we're walking out the door Barry says, "Didn't you want to show me the cat?" And the rest, as they say is history. :) Hopefully he will be joining our family on Wednesday if his owner's don't come and claim him.

We haven't decided on a name yet. As you know names are quite quite important. But we take it a step further. We don't like cutesy-pie names or "normal" names. But we also haven't had a cat in donkey's years. Our last cat was Barry's back in England and her name was Duchess. My sister has two cats, Fluffy and Moe. My 3 cats from childhood were named Dipstick (I got him in 97, he was such a sweetie, dumb as a rock and clumsy as a cow), George the Sadomasti-cat (who would ignore you if you were nice to him, but be all over you if you ignored him and loved being tossed across the room *gently*. He'd come racing back onto your lap and wait for you to toss him again. He was kiddnapped around Halloween of 98) and Phantom who I adopted from a co-worker who couldn't keep him, he was a lavender siamese and just the lovingest kitty cat ever. I named him Phantom not because he looked like a spook, but because I was reading The Phantom of the Opera at the time. And so, here are some of the names we've put forth for the new kitty:

1. Inky
2. Melancholy
3. Gloomy
4. Crow Bait
5. Drive By
6. Roadkill 2: the sequel (our lab is named Roadkill after Barry's movie because we adopted him from the people of one of our locations during the shooting of the movie)
7. Lt. Kettch after a fictional genetically modified Ewok from the Rogue Squadron books

I am leaning towards Gloomy or Driveby. If he's a laid back kitty, Gloomy will work well. If he's a hyper spacey kitty, Drive By would be good to. For some bizarre reason we only just noticed today that we have all black/grey animals. It's passing strange. Except for Hiccup who is champagne colors, even Snickers was grey/black. We (barry and i) tend to wear alot of black too. wierd.

Oh. 1 final thing. I opted to switch dying my hair purple for getting a piercing instead. :) Pics to come soon.

Taken a million and a half years ago (not really, more like 40 or 50) this is a photograph of my grandma taking a photo of herself in the mirror.

Every day I wish she was still alive, but never more so than just right now. And, while looking through my pictures I found this one of her, and I realized that I miss her so much it hurts.

I wish she was here.