I have started using Facebook. It is likely to be my doom.
It's funny that I've been very busy lately but still don't have much to say. I'm trying to clean my apartment in preparation for my sister and her friend who will be staying with me tomorrow night, after we go to the Flogging Molly concert. Loud music, vegan food afterward, and a three-day weekend for the associated travel to and from Duluth (twice, to get aforementioned sister and friend to St. Paul and back). Should be fun, right?
I knitted a murloc, from this pattern for a friend's birthday. The pattern itself seems to have quite a few errors in it (miscounting stitches, wrong row numbers, etc.) but I think it turned out okay. I wasn't entirely happy with the legs and will probably try and make another murloc with the leftover yarn so I can try and fix the pattern a bit more to my liking.
That's all for now. Time to go pick up dinner and then clean and clean and clean...
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
teatime
I made my tea properly this time--it's not bitter. I'm just drinking it too fast because the office is cold tonight. I blame groundhogs.
It's funny. I've always felt that I lived in the wrong time, but I'm never quite certain which other era I would prefer. I used to think of the distant future. Then of the hippie generation. Now, I long for 19th century Europe. I'm regressing. I'm digressing. I'm tired and cryptic, and just deleted the little word game I was playing with myself while writing this--searching for rhyming gerunds. Regressing, digressing, destressing, addressing, repressing, caressing. Oh, but I am silly sometimes.
I've found a new favorite word: absconding. As in, the night seems to have absconded with my sanity and left no forwarding address. I'm wishing for the world to warm up again so I can take walks at midnight and see the stars in their multitudes. It struck me recently that that's one of the things that most bothers me about living in the city. I can't see the stars, nor can I take late-night walks and feel perfectly safe. Perhaps unsurprisingly, I don't go out much anymore.
Another cool word I learned by watching House M.D.: myoclonic jerk--the sometimes violent muscle twitch that prevents me from falling asleep at my desk or sometimes in bed. The brain decides that the body is dying, and tries to wake it up. Does a good job, too, but I'm not dying, little paranoid brain. I'm just sleepy. Which ultimately means, I'm glad for the tea.
It's funny. I've always felt that I lived in the wrong time, but I'm never quite certain which other era I would prefer. I used to think of the distant future. Then of the hippie generation. Now, I long for 19th century Europe. I'm regressing. I'm digressing. I'm tired and cryptic, and just deleted the little word game I was playing with myself while writing this--searching for rhyming gerunds. Regressing, digressing, destressing, addressing, repressing, caressing. Oh, but I am silly sometimes.
I've found a new favorite word: absconding. As in, the night seems to have absconded with my sanity and left no forwarding address. I'm wishing for the world to warm up again so I can take walks at midnight and see the stars in their multitudes. It struck me recently that that's one of the things that most bothers me about living in the city. I can't see the stars, nor can I take late-night walks and feel perfectly safe. Perhaps unsurprisingly, I don't go out much anymore.
Another cool word I learned by watching House M.D.: myoclonic jerk--the sometimes violent muscle twitch that prevents me from falling asleep at my desk or sometimes in bed. The brain decides that the body is dying, and tries to wake it up. Does a good job, too, but I'm not dying, little paranoid brain. I'm just sleepy. Which ultimately means, I'm glad for the tea.
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