tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80509662024-03-07T12:21:11.155-08:00Lemon DropWhomever said, "money can't buy happiness" obviously never set foot in a yarn store.Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1170033557659916682006-07-13T17:05:00.000-07:002007-02-18T16:56:26.889-08:00Sabatical<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I've decided to put this blog on sleep mode for a while. I have various reasons:<br /></span><ol><li style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> I'm taking a summer math class which is using up the vast majority of my time and is, unfortunately, completely necessary if I wanna transfer in the spring (which I do).</li><li style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">I need to concentrate on finishing up my remaining classes and transferring, and being all studious severely cuts into my time for anything fun or interesting, meaning...<br /></li><li><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I haven't done much in the way of knittin' or craftin' lately, and I feel it's a waste to post nothing but silly rants and game reviews and other such fillers.</span></li></ol><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Not sure when this place will be active again, but I hope that when it is, y'all will come back to read my rambles. :)<br />Take care and have a happy summer!<br /></span>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1155286621819236692006-05-12T13:12:00.000-07:002008-11-01T23:20:21.195-07:00Arrrr!<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Recently discovered that Sid Meier has put out an updated version of his classic <em>Pirates!</em> computer games: <em>Sid Meier's Pirates! Living the Life</em>. So of course it had to be bought.<br />Now I am addicted to this game. Finals are looming, and all I want to do is sit at this computer and pretend to be a pirate.<br />I remember playing <em>Pirates! Gold </em>back in the day (although it was my brother's game; I didn't get much play time) and it was grand. This version has been kicked up, graphics-wise, and seems easier to navigate. The music is swashbuckling, and the action is quick and fun.<br />One of the biggest drawbacks, however, is the repetitive cutscenes. They're almost exactly the same, over and over and<em> over</em> again. Same with the dancing and, sadly, the sword fighting - they get to be a chore pretty quickly.<br />Another complaint is that it's a bit on the childish side - corny and cartoony. That's okay, but wouldn't it be nice to play a grittier, adult-oriented (don't think dirty) game? The actual life of your pirate is not too realistic in this game - I mean, c'mon, pirates had to deal with guns, swords, cannons, soldiers of angry nations, disease, and bad hygiene. Life may have been swashbuckling but I'd wager it wasn't very pretty. And this game doesn't even show BLOOD.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Bottomline: full of piratey goodness and pretty damn fun at first, but sure to get boring quicker than it should.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2135/527/1600/Pirates.1.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2135/527/320/Pirates.1.jpg" border="0" /></a>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1147138095174232972006-05-08T18:13:00.000-07:002006-05-08T18:28:15.223-07:00Xmas in May<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">How does this pattern grab ya? The snowman is almost cute, but Santa looks like he's waiting for you to turn your back so he can suck your soul out through your left nostril. Just the thought of this thing lurking in the dark living room would chase away dreams of dancing sugarplums and invoke visions of fire and brimstone.</span><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2135/527/1600/CreepyStockings.1.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2135/527/320/CreepyStockings.1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">More creepy cuteness can be found <a href="https://homepages.force9.net/ethknits/Sirdar/Patterns/SIRDAR-PATTERNS-22.htm">here</a>.</span>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1146296787136890912006-03-31T23:37:00.000-08:002007-02-18T21:41:47.582-08:00Nothing to post<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Meh, I got nothing. But here's some randomness (hopefully entertaining).</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Go look at <a href="http://www.asahibeer.co.jp/hon-nama/robocco/top.html">this</a>. Yup, it's a beerbot. How much beer must one swill to earn a beerbot?</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">A lot.<br /></span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Dare to battle me?</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Beware, I have two of the best super powers EVER.</span><br /><br /><form action="http://thesurrealist.co.uk/monster.cgi" method="get"><table align="center"><tbody><tr><td style="border: medium solid rgb(0, 221, 0); padding: 10px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; color: rgb(0, 221, 0); background-color: rgb(0, 68, 0); text-align: center;font-family:verdana;font-size:x-small;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 255, 0);font-size:78%;" ><b>Nemo</b></span><br /><br />is a Giant Dragon that has a Swirly Hypnotic Gaze, can Leap Great Distances, and is Wreathed with Flames.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 255, 0);">Strength: 7 Agility: 10 Intelligence: 9</span><br /><br /><hr style="color: rgb(0, 119, 0);font-size:78%;" ><br /><input value="Nemo" type="hidden" style="font-size:10;"><span style="">To see if your <b>Giant Battle Monster</b> can<br />defeat Nemo, enter your name and choose an attack:<br /></span><br /><input value="Nemo" name="def" type="hidden"><input style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 221, 0); font-size: 8pt; color: rgb(0, 221, 0); background-color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" size="10" name="att"> fights Nemo using <select style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 221, 0); font-size: 8pt; color: rgb(0, 221, 0); background-color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" name="a"><option value="S">Strength</option><option value="A">Agility</option><option value="I">Intelligence</option></select><br /><input style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 221, 0); font-size: 8pt; color: rgb(0, 221, 0); background-color: rgb(0, 51, 0);" value="Battle!" type="submit"></td></tr></tbody></table></form><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>A Stupid Story.</strong></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I had an incident a couple months ago when I had to get up (too) early on a Saturday to go to work. I'm not very alert before, say, noon, but as I headed out my bedroom, I heard someone walking on the roof, and saw a big man-sized shadow through my blinds. I figured that my dad was fiddling around with the gutters or something, and left for work.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It took me until an hour after arriving at work to realized that dad had been asleep in his bed when I left the house.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This meant:<br />a) Someone had been on the roof. Right outside my window.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">or,<br />b) I had finally lost my mind completely and irrevocably.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">We never found any evidence that any creepo had actually been on the roof, so instead of ringing the loony bin, we all chose to pretend it never happened.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Until about two weeks later. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I was woken up around dawn by loud person-walking-on-the-roof noises and of course thought, <em>"oh crap, the imaginary rooftop pervert is back!"</em> This time, however, my blinds were partially open, and I was able to see more than his big creepy shadow.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">It was a<em> squirrel</em>. A <em>fucking squirrel</em>. </span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Not even perverted peeking toms are interested in harassing me. I get small wildlife.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I now know that the sound of a fat ugly squirrel clawing his way up my window screen for no apparent reason is the <em>same sound</em> as a full-grown man walking around on roof shingles. I kid you not. SAME SOUND.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">And my furry little tormentor didn't stop there. He kept coming back, diabolically timing his harassments for moments when I was asleep, changing clothes, or otherwise completely unprepared for a counterattack.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">But yesterday, I had my revenge.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I was studying in my room, with the window open, when I detected the noises of my enemy sneaking up to my window for another surprise attack. Now, if my cat were still living, I would have simply let her out on the roof, and she would have eaten him. I had to settle for lying in wait until he started his climb, then suddenly leaping at him, scratching the screen and barking, scaring the little shit so bad he fell off the screen and scuttled away in such a panic he probably left a trail of urine behind him.</span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"> He hasn't come back to visit since.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I told you it was a stupid story.</span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><br /></span>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1140852428767756232006-02-24T23:27:00.000-08:002006-02-24T23:41:02.896-08:00I'm an Olympian, albeit a lazy one.<span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Okay, Baby Kady, your fetching new outfit is done and ready to ship. See? It's going in the box.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/115/1537/640/KadySweater.jpg"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #ffffff 2px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #ffffff 2px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/115/1537/400/KadySweater.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Alright, so it's nothing impressive. But it comes with a matching hat.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/115/1537/640/KadyHat.jpg"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #ffffff 2px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #ffffff 2px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/115/1537/400/KadyHat.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Please overlook the questionable quality of the crochet borders. Auntie did the best she could, but she's not a very good hooker yet (give her a few drinks first). She's just relieved she made the Knitting Olympics deadline, meaning she's not an utter failure, just bad at time management.</span>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1140676660296556642006-02-14T23:37:00.000-08:002006-04-29T00:51:18.576-07:00Happy flippin' Valentine's Day.<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Or, as Kristen calls it, Single Awareness Day.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I'm broke, so no gifts this year, but I still wanted in on the festivities. Hence, this little guy:</span><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/115/1537/640/DCP_0514.jpg"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #ffffff 2px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #ffffff 2px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/115/1537/400/DCP_0514.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I got the idea from the </span><a href="http://badjujukal.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Bad Juju Knit Along</span></a>. <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I wanted to participate in that, but couldn't justify spending the time on something so useless (but so cute). Then, <em>ding-dong! </em>Pincushion, moron. And a project to practice da sewing skillz.</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Consider him a Valentine's gift to you all.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Isn't he oh-so-cute and happy? He also comes with great accessories: Love Hurts Needles and Goodbye Cruel World Noose. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/115/1537/640/DCP_0517.jpg"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #ffffff 2px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #ffffff 2px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/115/1537/400/DCP_0517.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I'm naming him Buddy, because he is so helpful with my sewing projects.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">There has been a bit of <a href="http://www.yarnharlot.ca/blog/olympics2006.html">Knitting Olympics</a> progress around here. Along with the sleeves, finished the back of the baby sweater:</span><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/115/1537/640/DCP_0519.jpg"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #ffffff 2px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #ffffff 2px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/115/1537/400/DCP_0519.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I do admit to feeling like a cop-out in this event. It's only a baby outfit; fer cryin' out loud, it's in garter stitch. But I'm still having issues fitting it in my schedule. Oh well; it's not a creative challenge, but at least I will finish by the deadline.</span>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1138525809104649832006-01-24T23:10:00.000-08:002006-01-29T01:49:43.873-08:00FINALLY!<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">One weekend, I said "enough is enough, it's time to finish this thing!" And I did. And it's done. It's DONE! This is the Furuba bag that was originally conceived as the "Punk Rock Backpack" in <em>Stitch 'n' Bitch</em>. Long ago, I knit all the separate pieces and was just beginning to join them together before I remembered that I really don't like backpack purses. <em>'So I'll turn it into a shoulder bag</em>,' I thought, <em>'easy!</em>' And it would have been, if I hadn't kept changing the dumb design. I probably redesigned it four or five times, and the poor thing has spent the vast majority of nearly two years as an "on hold" project, because I kept getting angry and throwing it in the corner. But I sure learned a whole lot from this project: intarsia, duplicate stitch, picking up stitches, backstitch, buttonholes, and extending. I also relearned how to make and sew in a fabric liner. Whew. The picture doesn't show it, but the bag closes with a flap in the back that buttons. If I could do it again, I think I'd have it close in front for convenience's sake.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/115/1537/640/FurubaBag.jpg"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #ffffff 2px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #ffffff 2px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/115/1537/400/FurubaBag.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">You can see that it's pretty floppy, but since the yarn is just cheap acrylic, it doesn't block very well. Whatever. I'm just happy that it's finally done and I can use it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I keep thinking, though: how old is too old to wear this type of stuff? When we're young, we can get away with almost anything, but at a certain point it just starts to look ridiculous. Someone please tell me when I reach that point.</span>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1137053964984278852006-01-12T00:09:00.000-08:002007-02-18T21:46:29.513-08:00Killed by...<span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Zetta sent me this one. Get some cheap thrills by googling "[your name] was killed by", and seeing what wacky (or depressing) stuff pops up. My favorites:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">1) <em>Lainey was killed in the siege of school no. 1.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Sounds exciting.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">2) <em>Lainey was killed in a car accident involving an eighteen wheeler.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Gee, I wonder whose car was more damaged?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">3) <em>Lainey was killed by another of Liams' hired assassins in order to get to Henry.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Damn you, Henry!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">4) <span style="font-style: italic;">Lainey</span><em> was killed by NutraSweet.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">That's just pathetic.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">5) <em>The baby survived, but Lainey was killed by the intense cold her baby produced. Even the delivery doctor had frostbite on his fingers after the delivery.</em></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">One more reason not to have children.</span>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1136537285285525392006-01-06T00:20:00.000-08:002006-04-29T00:56:01.796-07:00whoa.<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Wow, I just remembered that I have a blog, and it's been about three months since I updated it.<br />Don't worry, readers, you haven't missed much.<br />It was school, school, work, and school for awhile there, and I had no energy for anything else. I'm on winter break now, and catching up on my zzzz's and the rest of my life. Right now I'm busy with new year's cleaning (out with the old dust bunnies and junk mail, in with the new).<br />I vaguely remember having some resolutions last year, so let's see how well I kept 'em:<br /><em>1) Learn to crochet.</em><br />I made it under the wire for this one. I figured out how to do a crochet border on a knitted piece a day or two before the deadline.<br /><em>2) Finish all abandoned knitting projects (I have at least 5 going right now).</em><br />I think I'm down to two abandoned ones, and one I'm starting up again soon.<br /><em>3) Drink more water, and cut back further on soda.</em><br />Done and done. I'm down to about one soda a month.<br /><em>4) Start experimenting with dying yarn at home.</em><br />er, forgot about this one.<br /><em>5) Work on my sewing skills (they're really pathetic as of now, so this one won't be too difficult).</em><br />I took a crappy summer class, which I dropped out of, but at least I leaned how to operate the dang machine. I'm continuing my education by experience.<br /><em>6) Eat more fruits and veggies (obligatory health-related resolution).</em><br />Failure.<br /><em>7) Acquire permanent job.</em><br />Sweet success. The cherry on top is being named employee of the quarter. Woot!<br /><br />Results? 4 1/2 victories and 2 1/2 sunk ships. Yes!!! 2005 was not a total failure!!!!<br />To cap off the year, I became an 'auntie.' Baby Kady made it safely into the world almost a month ago. Big congrats and kisses to Daddy Steve and Momma Linds! Only eighteen more years to go, guys! And Auntie has picked up the needles again to make lots of cute baby-type garments, so expect knitting updates fairly soon.<br />Farewell, 2005.<br />2006, we hope you'll be good to us.</span>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1136539756798046222005-10-26T00:12:00.000-07:002006-01-06T01:34:00.063-08:00Update<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">During a stop on our geology field trip in the Marin Headlands area, we saw several park ranger vehicles drive by with the lights flashing. When we were ready to continue five minutes later, they'd blocked off the main road, and we were detoured to no man's land.<br />The reason for this, we just discovered, was that less than half a mile away from where we'd been, some guy had pulled over on the side of the road and was, apparently, yuking. Rangers noticed and tried to question him, but he was acting weird, so they searched his car. Lo and behold, there in the trunk was his ex-girlfriend, whom he'd very recently killed. That's when the rangers called in the cavalry. Presumably, the dude was planning on doing a body dump over the cliff. The excitement of our near-brush with a murderer was spoiled by his idiocy. A stealthier criminal would have picked a time other than midday on a sunny weekend to do his body-dumping.</span>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1130222318657228742005-10-24T23:38:00.000-07:002007-02-18T21:51:21.495-08:00Nerdiness<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Went to the coast yesterday on a field trip for my geology class. After about eight hours "out in the field" with my classmates, I was forced to come to an inescapable conclusion: cool people do not go on geology field trips. These are excursions for the nerd elite.</span> I<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> can only say that there were a lot of <em>Star Wars</em> jokes.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">It was an interesting. We got to glare jealously at the HUGE ocean-side houses - damn rich people. But I was comforted by the fact that although they can afford multi-million-dollar coastal homes, money can't buy them brains. This was exhibited by the fact that they chose to build next to or directly on top of fault lines, and also that the rock supporting their mansions was pillow basalt, which is constantly being devoured by the ocean. Further evidence was a house which boasted a backyard fence <em>literally on the edge</em> of a sharp cliff over the ocean. And the fence was about two feet tall. As if that wasn't dangerous enough, those daredevils chose to place a trampoline<em> </em>in their yard. Within three feet of the inexplicably short fence. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">It was, admittedly, hard to gauge exact distances from my vantage point, but here's how it looked:</span><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/640/Trampoline.jpg"><img style="border: 2px solid rgb(255, 255, 255); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/400/Trampoline.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I did see a couple of kids jumping on the thing, but when we passed by again thirty minutes later, they were gone. Did they go inside? Or did they fall over the absurdly short fence? </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Now that's natural selection at work.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">In closing, I would just like to say that when you work this hard for a joke, it doesn't deserve to be laughed at:<br /></span><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/640/pearls.jpg"><img style="border: 2px solid rgb(255, 255, 255); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/400/pearls.jpg" border="0" /></a>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1128417950354304302005-10-04T00:31:00.000-07:002007-02-18T22:03:20.440-08:00Meme'd to Death.<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">To be honest, I don't really know what the word <em>meme</em> means. I just know that it's a term bloggers use for "tagging" each other with random "personality quizzes." Basically, they are the blog equivalent of stupid mass-forwarded emails. Still, I got "tagged" at some chick's site, and since I have nothing better to do at the moment, here goes:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>10 Years Ago:</strong> I was in junior high, getting alternately ignored and teased by the other kids, wearing ugly clothes and braces, fighting with my hair, and hating every second of everything.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>5 Years Ago:</strong> I was fresh out of high school with little direction in my life, loving and adjusting to my first job, and perpetually late for everything. I was one year away from a rather traumatizing series of car accidents, none of which were my fault (honestly!). I was also, sadly, a bit thinner.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>1 Year Ago: </strong>I was grieving for my Kibby Kitty. I was also beginning to focus more on school and to set serious academic goals in my desperation to graduate from community college.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>5 Treats I Enjoy:</strong></span><br /><ul><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Cold water.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Twix bar.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Nectarines.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Over-priced yuppie coffee drinks.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Hot cocoa.</span></li></ul><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>5 Songs I Know the Words To: </strong></span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I think I know quite a few more, but here's the ones I can think of now.</span></p><ul><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">"#1 Crush," Garbage.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">the entire Franz Ferdinand album.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">"Should I stay or Should I go," The Clash.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">"Silver and Cold," AFI.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">the entire "Hot Fuss" album by The Killers.</span></li></ul><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>5 Things I Would Do With a Million Dollars: </strong>(I <em>wouldn't</em> buy you a monkey.)</span></p><ul><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Bum around Europe for a year or two.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Take my friends to Hawai'i or somewhere equally fun.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Go on a maaaaad shoe/clothing/purse/jewelry shopping spree.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Hook myself up with an iPod.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Buy half a house (this is, remember, California. A million dollars only goes so far).</span></li></ul><p><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">5 </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Places I'd Like to Run Away To:</span></strong></p><ul><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">England. (Nowhere specific.)</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Hawaii or Polynesia.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">France.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">The ocean.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Canada (death to Bush).</span></li></ul><p><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">5 Things I Would Never Wear:</span></strong></p><ul><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Pointy-toed shoes (my feet are f-ing big enough).</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Real animal fur.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Tapered-leg pants.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Plaid with polka dots and stripes.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">A bikini in public (I don't want to be the cause of mass blindness and trauma).</span></li></ul><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>5 Favorite T.V. Shows:</strong> I try not to watch t.v., because I'm easily addicted, plus it makes me feel dumb. These shows are the only I watch with any sort of regularity, and they are all really lame. I started to watch the last two as part of a project for my American Culture class, and now continue to watch for no real reason. But they are all good to knit in front of.</span></p><ul><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><em>CSI</em> - (Original series only) Very unrealistic for the most part. But I enjoy predicting the plot twists and watching the downright bizarre cases unfold. And I do like most of the characters.<br /></span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><em>Without a Trace</em> - Again, lame. The delicious Enrique Murciano make it worth the watch, but lately not even he can save its recent turn to boring and angsty crap.<br /></span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><em>Lost</em> - Addicting at first, but it's starting to drag. I mean, how long can one stay interested in dramatic, mysterious plot twists with a bunch of gorgeous people (every one with a tragic past) stuck on a booby-trapped island? Do yourselves a favor, guys, and end it this season.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><em>Desperate Housewives</em> - I can hear you laughing at me. I'm not sure why I watch this show, except to see how ridiculous it gets. It's so lame and to the extreme. I don't think I even like any of the characters, although Mike Delfino is some good eye-candy. I find it fascinating that our culture is one that will tune in <span style="font-style: italic;">en masse</span> to a show that glorifies hormone-driven lowlifes behaving badly.<br /></span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><em>Grey's Anatomy</em> - I can just see the creators of this show doing the initial brainstorming. Some schmuck probably said, "Hey! <em>ER'</em>s been done, but what if we <em>completely changed</em> the "hospital workers" theme by mixing in healthy doses of teenage angst like you'd find on the WB channel, and "clever modern singles with unrealistically witty dialogue" <em>a la </em>Sex and the City?" And all the other schmucks exclaimed, "BRILLIANT!!" This show is so trite and predictable that it's funny to watch. The characters are junior high kids put in the bodies of adults, having crushes on each other and moaning about how their lives are miserable. The writers took every single situation that's been over-done on TV and crammed it all into this show: casual sex, unexpected pregnancy, the boyfriend's wife showing up, contracting an STD from your girlfriend only to find she got it from your most hated coworker, unrequited love, yadda yadda yadda. Keep in mind that these people are supposed to be responsible for the lives and health of the masses, and yet they don't know enough to use condoms. Sheesh.</span></li></ul><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>5 Greatest Joys:</strong></span></p><ul><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Reading a new book. Or an old favorite.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Finishing my homework.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Sleeping late.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Holidays with the family.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Having my rooms be clean and organized. (Not that it lasts long...)</span></li></ul><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>5 idiosyncrasies:</strong> </span></p><ul><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">You remember that "step on a crack..." children's rhyme? Well, to this day I don't step on the cracks. Not for fear of any superstition; it's been automatic for years.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I don't like to sleep with socks on.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">When I was little and a very quiet, shy little kid, I didn't like to express myself in any way others would notice. So when I got really happy or excited, I would give a silent shudder. I still find myself doing this on occasion, mostly when I'm alone.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">When eating dinner, I have always started with the vegetables, then the side dish, and saved the main meat for last. If the side dish is better than the main (e.g.: mashed potatoes vs. pork), however, then I eat the side dish last.</span></li><li><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I always make piles on the floor. They can consist of books, papers, knitting crap, but it's usually clothes. Dirty clothes, yes, but also clothes that I tried on but didn't wear, new clothes, and stuff that needs mending. The clothing mountains usually stay a week or two before I get disgusted and put it all in the proper places. Unfortunately, the cycle begins again immediately.</span></li></ul>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1128411047384036242005-09-24T22:25:00.000-07:002005-10-04T00:30:48.276-07:00Deja vu!<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Driving home from work tonight, I saw <em>another</em> bagpiper. He was a fireman, of all things, standing in front of his station in the dark and playing away. Another coincidence? He was directly across the street from a park.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">These are the moments camera phones were made for. Alas that I cannot afford one.</span>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1127458983249112792005-09-22T23:25:00.000-07:002005-09-23T00:06:19.480-07:00Thursday is Hell Day.<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">eh heh. NoUpdate McBaron here. I'm bloody exhausted, but the day was mildly interesting enough to share.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong>Nemo's Notable Observations Today:</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">*There was a bagpiper playing his/her heart out in the little "park" (aka empty space with 3 trees and a bench) near the campus. I have seen one or two bagpipers in public before, but this was the first one who was a) not in San Francisco, and b) actually listenable. Bag on, dude.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">*Pop Tarts has a new flavor, Strawberry Milkshake. That's right, you'd be EATING a milkshake. In a Pop Tart. That's just weird, man.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">*There sure are an awful lot of college whippersnappers this semester (well, I say college). There were kids so young in my geology class that they were only 2 or 3 years old during the Loma Prieta Earthquake. I am officially too old to be going to that school.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">*It was amusing to watch the attached-at-both-hips, limb-entangled, can't-let-go-of-each-other-for-two-seconds couple try to figure out how to get into their car without disengaging from their permanent embrace.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">*Today was apparently Dumb Pedestrian Day, though I don't recall getting that memo. I lost count of how many dumbfucks kept jaywalking directly into oncoming traffic, also jumping in front of my car for no obvious reason, etc. Not to mention Dumbfuck On A Bike, who, while crossing against the light, decided to perform a badass maneuver, only to end up crashing and asphalt-burning his ugly shirtless ass. Then he held up traffic retrieving his cell phone, wallet, hat, brain, and shoe, with his ugly shirtless buddy on a bike trying to help. Nice move, jerk.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">*On a similar note, today was another day when my car was apparently invisible, because other cars were pulling out in front of me, stealing my turn at stop signs, backing into me, and switching lanes on top of me like there was no tomorrow. Another theory is that my car is so freaking awesome that other drivers are hypnotically drawn to steer as close as they can get to my driver's seat, forgetting that two cars do not magically blend together.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">*Sitting in classes from 10AM until 7PM is agony on the butt.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">*Writing the best essay in history class and having the teacher pass it around as an example for the other students to follow is <em>bitchin'</em>.</span>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1127636456619749792005-08-27T20:10:00.000-07:002005-09-27T22:21:37.680-07:00"No, ma'am, we're musicians."<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Happy Silver Anniversary to The Blues Brothers!!!!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Twenty-five years ago, the cult hit movie <em>The Blues Brothers</em> was released<em>. </em>We watched Jake and Elwood on their "mission from god," rampaging their way through Chicago. They cleverly outwitted cops, got beaten by a nun with a stick, </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">took out a group of Nazis ("I hate Illinois Nazis."), and caused an obscene amount of damage. Most importantly, they exhibited great music, not just playing it themselves, but getting legends such as James Brown ("Do you see the light?"), Aretha Franklin ("You better think about the consequences of your actions."), John Lee Hooker, Cab Calloway ("Boys, you gotta learn not to talk to nuns that way."), and Ray Charles ("Ah, excuse me, but I don't think there's anything wrong with the action on this piano.") in on the act. Singing, dancing, destruction, and stupid, off-the-wall humor; ah, life is good.<br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">My dad's a big fan, so <em>The Blues Brothers</em> was an essential part of my upbringing. Whether or not this was healthy is debatable.</span><br />[Nerd note: Trooper Mount is played by Steven Williams, who later plays the mysterious Mr. X on The X-Files.]<br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">The sequel, <em>Blues Brothers 2000</em>, was released in 1998. Again, it displayed some truly excellent music and talented artists (Johnny Lang, BB King, Wilson Pickett, Blues Traveler, Erykah Badu, and returnees James Brown and Aretha), but toned down the insanity and made it a bit more family-friendly. Try as they might, though, it didn't quite measure up (for example, hick white supremasist conspiracy theorists are simply not as funny antagonists as Illinois Nazis driving Pintos). It was a good movie, just not as hilarious as the first one.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Let's leave the last words to the gang:</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">-"This place has got <em>everything</em>." (Jake, whilst traveling through the mall. Literally.)</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">-"I'll have some dry white toast."</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">"And I'll have four fried chickens and a coke." (Elwood and Jake, ordering at the Soul Food Cafe).<br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">-"The Blues Brothers?! Shit. They still owe you money, fool!" (Aretha)<br />-"Three orange whips." (Mr. Mercer, ordering drinks at the concert.)<br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">-"We're putting the band back together." (Jake)</span><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">-"No pharmaceutical product could ever equal the rush you get when the band hits that groove..." (Elwood J. Blues, Blues Brothers 2000)</span><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/640/BluesBrothers.jpg"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #ffffff 2px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #ffffff 2px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/400/BluesBrothers.jpg" border="0" /></a>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1124013614787019782005-08-06T22:10:00.000-07:002005-08-14T18:38:58.843-07:00"I'm a rebel; I'm evil. My anti-perspirant is breaking down!"<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Feeling a bit bad-ass right now. But I'm almost ashamed to admit why.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I thought it would be a good idea to learn to sew this summer, so I tried to enroll in an adult-ed class ("Sewing 1 - The Basics of Sewing") but it was all filled. I signed up on the wait list, but knew I wouldn't get in. Lo' and behold, the teacher called me a couple days before class and said she had ONE opening. So I signed up. I paid for the class. I expected to be taught to, you know, sew.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">First class, I walk in and sit down and not two seconds pass before one of the "advaced" students (read: middle-aged house wives who have nothing better to do than take Sewing 1 over and over again, chat about their kids, and sew up some truly heinous "country crap" creations) pulled out a project to show to her friends. "Look what I finished yesterday! It's for my kitchen!" she squealed, and her friends all cooed in rapture. It was a stuffed cow. And it was wearing a home-made frilly floral dress.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I should have taken that as a sign.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">This class gave no informative instruction; we had to pick our own projects and figure them out ourselves. The teacher interacted with us when asked for help. Said teacher was this stuck-up old bat who took a dislike to me the moment I asked her to explain how to hand-baste (I said I can't sew!). After that, she started staring at me strangely after I spoke, then after a long pause she'd say something like "okaaay..." or "right..." or sometimes "I see..." Example: she came to my work table and asked what project I was starting. I happily replied, "It's a simple bag to carry around my knitting projects! It's just a square with two handles" She did the staring thing, then said, "okay...so...it will be just like your purse there." She pointed to a little purse I'd made at home that weekend. "Yep," I replied, smiling, "but it will be bigger, of course." She stared at me like a foreign creature for a moment, then turned and old-lady-shuffled off. (Call me wrong, but I always thought teachers should encourage their students, not turn away in disgust.)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">By the third class, I had realized that we weren't being taught anything, and we weren't <em>going</em> to be taught anything. All the sewing info I'd received during those weeks was from my mum, when I'd nag her into showing me something. At the start of that third class, sitting there among boring housewives at least fifteen years my seniors (the other three beginners had dropped out by this time), it suddenly struck me that I was in a sewing circle, a goddamned <em>sewing circle</em>. I was being ignored by a bunch of ugly old ladies with nothing more interesting in their lives than their children. And I was doing nothing there that I couldn't do at home.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I gathered my stuff, stood up, and, giving the teacher a look of disgust, walked out the door.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I just wrote a very nasty letter to the adult-ed chairman.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">And it's making me feel like a rebel with a Billy-Idol-sneer.</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Which</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> is so very sad.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1122845390165148282005-07-27T14:29:00.000-07:002007-02-18T22:05:48.127-08:00Ducks!<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">In springtime Japan, many folks like to throw and attend <em>hanami</em> (cherry blossom viewing parties). Well, I have my own spring tradition: Duck-for-me (baby duck voyeur excursions). I'm not very good at the timing, though; I usually go too early or too late.<br />But this year I hit it right on the nose! I was awash in fluffy duck cuteness! It's taken me, what, two months to load up the pics, but here's some quackers for y'all.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/640/Ducks.jpg"><img style="border: 2px solid rgb(255, 255, 255); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/400/Ducks.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The park also has a really nice rose garden, so I checked that out too. Despite the fact that three years in the wedding business left me with little excitement for said ceremonies, even I gotta say that this would be a gorgeous place to get hitched.<br /></span><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/640/Gazebo.jpg"><img style="border: 2px solid rgb(255, 255, 255); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/400/Gazebo.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This shot makes me think of the Secret Garden.<br /></span><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/640/Garden.jpg"><img style="border: 2px solid rgb(255, 255, 255); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/400/Garden.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">See that lady towards the left of this pic? She and her adult daughter(?) kept giving me dirty looks. I suspect they thought I was a possible pedophile photographing the little kids who were with them. They wouldn't let the kids go into whichever area of the garden I was in at the moment.<br /></span><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/640/Garden2.jpg"><img style="border: 2px solid rgb(255, 255, 255); margin: 2px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/400/Garden2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The enlightening signs in this park are great. This sign, for example, informed me that I was in the "Rose Garden," which helped dispel my notions that I was in, say, the lake.</span>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1120452653825715002005-06-30T21:30:00.000-07:002007-02-18T22:06:19.097-08:00Scrub-a-dub-dub, I wish there was a man in my tub.<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Time for some product love, aka unpaid product plugging. I think I mentioned before that I have a fetish for exfoliating, and I've finally found a product I really like.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Super Minty Soap 'n' Scrub by Bliss is freakin' awesome. Yes, it exfoliates really well, but what makes me a fan is the sweet, sweet mint action. Smells great, and gives you this wonderful cooling tingle all over (much appreciated, as I have no air conditioning right now). It also suds up like a soap for extra fun and cleansing bliss. While I'm not so sure about the "energizing" claim, the minty goodness does perk me up a bit.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It was more expensive than I liked, at about $30, but I think it was worth it. Maybe when I run out, I'll try to make my own imitation. Still, this stuff is Lainey-approved and recommend.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2135/527/320/MintyScrub.jpg" border="0" /></span> Scrubalicious.Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1118995880511889342005-06-16T22:11:00.000-07:002005-06-17T02:08:29.016-07:00Laziness, Vacation-ness, and PackRat-edness<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Been back for a week now. D-Land was totally fun, but it was really weird to go down there without the usual D-land posse and ginger snaps (I brought Teddy Grahams for old time's sake). It was doubly weird not to be going for Expo, and the hotel room seemed bare without the costumes, refrigerator, and Expo paraphernalia. Which is not to say I didn't have a blast; I did, though, as usual, I bought a bunch of overpriced crap that I don't really need. And as usual, I probably annoyed the living hell out of my poor roommate (I don't think I'm an easy person to tolerate for short periods of time, let alone live with). But I still love me some vacations with friends.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Since the return from the magic kingdom, I've been slobbing around, putting off signing up for summer classes, and trying to find the enthusiasm to clean my den of rooms. I want to get rid of (or put in storage) everything I don't use regularly. I decided to start with the powder room, since it's much smaller and, theoretically, easier. This is me we're talking about, however, and I know I'm lazy about, well, almost everything. When I'm running low on shampoo, lotion, etc., I of course go out to buy a new bottle to have when the last of the old stuff runs out. But often I start right in on the new one, and the old one sits there for a while until I use it or pour it into the new bottle. Sometimes, I never get around to doing that, and the two drops that are "too much to throw away!" sit unnoticed in a dark corner. I knew there would be some of these Forgotten Ones in the cabinet. I also knew there would be some bottles of products that I bought at some point or another and didn't like, but, being the major packrat I am, felt it would be a waste to throw away (<em>over half</em> a container!).</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Little did I suspect the true horror awaiting me.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I had so many Nearly Empties in there that I disgusted myself. Here's just a whiff:</span><br /><br /><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #ffffff 2px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #ffffff 2px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/400/Bottles.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">All told, I disposed of about twenty or twenty-five bottles of basically nothing, some of which were years old. Included were a few bottles of Stuff I Tried But The Shit Didn't Work (all hair products). Among these was a bottle of "Super Straight Hair" shampoo, which I bought when I was about twelve or thirteen, and naively assumed that it would do as advertised, and that I could have normal, beautiful hair. I think the instant when I saw that my hair was as frizzy and curly as ever and realized that those bastards had LIED to me was the moment I lost my faith in mankind. We lie to desperate Curly Girls; we are all going straight to hell in a hand basket. Anyway, the stuff used to be a lovely light lavender color, but look at what ten years in a dark cupboard have done to it:</span><br /><br /><br /><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #ffffff 2px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #ffffff 2px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/400/old%20shampoo.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Ewww. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">On the plus side, the room is very clean, empty, and probably healthier now.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Two rooms to go.</span>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1117873261041430742005-06-04T01:21:00.000-07:002005-06-04T01:24:02.406-07:00Nyah Nyah<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Didn't fit in a real update this week, did I? Oh, well.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Just wanted to say that as of tomorrow, I will be here:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/640/D-Land.jpg"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #ffffff 2px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #ffffff 2px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/400/D-Land.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />...And you won't.<br /><br />See you in a week!Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1116661538018108882005-05-19T23:23:00.000-07:002005-05-21T00:45:38.070-07:00Exam Cravings?<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">What the hell's angels? This past week or two, as I have ploughed through finals frantically and tirelessly (okay, that last one's a lie; I'm dead tired), I've had the worst cravings EVER. I'm normally one of those folks who eat their way through final exams, but I've never craved such specific and weird stuff. I'm like a freaking pregnant woman. Here's some examples:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">-plain, cooked pasta</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">-hot dog with mustard and a side of ranch dip</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">-Triscuit crackers, cottage cheese and cucumber</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">-pizza and peanut butter</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">-sandwich #21 from Togo's</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">-nachos and a banana milkshake</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">-butterscotch pudding (I usually dislike this flavor, it's too rich, but I HAD to eat some)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">-sour-cream-and-onion potato chips with bean dip</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">-onion. Plain, raw onion. Chomped-from-the-bulb onion.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Yeah, so most of these were totally unhealthy, and the rest were just kinda kooky (I mean, c'mon, what kind of person with the merest trace of taste buds will eat onions like goddamn apples??). </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">On the plus side, finals are now OVER. That's right: FUCKING FINISHED. All I have next week are class "meetings" in which we get our grades and leave early and maybe watch movies. I'm so damn happy that I just can't describe; this was the most stressful semester and finals week I've ever had. I haven't even been to my job in a week, and in the past seventy-two hours, I've gotten about six hours of sleep. I was totally on the verge of tears when I turned in my last two essays today. Projects, exams, essays, all-nighters, cramming, reviewing: I'm done with them ALL! And now I'm going to sleep until Sunday.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Maybe now I will stop eating like a vacuum...</span>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1114757931954843172005-04-28T23:58:00.000-07:002005-04-30T00:42:53.610-07:00The End is Near...<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">That's right, my friends, this semester is almost over. Four more weeks, and then we can wallow in sweet, sweet summer vacation. At least until summer classes begin. *sigh*</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Spare time to knit 'n' do other stuff has been scarce, and besides, my brain has long since fried. I used to love to read whenever I could get the chance, but this semester my extracurricular reading has been so sad. My brain shuts off all but the simplest of functions during leisure time, so it just can't absorb any of the books I want to read. I've been reduced to reading very simple material, such as <em>H.P.</em> and some old books from my "young adult reader" days. It's so pathetic I don't know whether to laugh or cry.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I'm done knitting my Classy, but it needs to be blocked and fringed, and I'm far too lazy for that. So it's sitting in a corner being ignored. Don't bother calling FOPS (Finished Object Protection Services) because they don't exist.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Hmm, what can I talk about? Um, back in the beginning of this year, I got tired of blowing my money on circular needles of all shapes and sizes. $7-$10 /needle set = big bucks out the door, you circular bastards. So I bought a <a href="http://knitdenise.com">Denise needles</a> set on a recommendation. I've heard knitters rave annoyingly about these, which turned me off, but I was desperate to save money, and didn't mind as long as they worked. Well, I hate to say this but...... I really LOVE these needles. You can pick and choose, mix and match the needle size and length; it provokes a blissful satisfaction similar to using legos to build a perfect dildo (not that I've done that, sickos) (dude, I should have said "erector set;" how kinky!). Anyways, the set was pricey - mine was about $40 or $45 - but when you think how many needle combinations you can do with the set, that price seems pretty damned reasonable. Be a cheap-ass like me and buy it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><a href="http://knitdenise.com/"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #ffffff 2px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #ffffff 2px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/320/denise.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">A couple of times over spring break, and once a few of weekends ago, I managed to actually see my friends. It was so freaking great, I just can't describe. I hadn't seen any of them since the beginning of the semester. I kept thinking, "I really love these people" and "I'd forgotten what being social was like." I only realized then how horribly lonely I'd been feeling without them. There is truly nothing like having awesome friends.</span>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1111914576144957012005-03-27T11:57:00.000-08:002005-03-27T01:09:36.146-08:00Bah!<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Seems like a lot of needlecraft folks are in a tizzy over the rag that Martha Satan wore for the beginning of her Second Coming. If you're not familiar with said garment, you lucky person, here's a picture to enlighten:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/320/satan.jpg" /> <span style="font-size:85%;">She's back and now she wants our SOULS!</span></span><br /><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></span> </p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Craft sites were overflowing with stupid posts about how gorgeous the poncho is and how much people want the pattern and blah blah blah. Many of these folks had terrible grammar, and thought that the Dark Lady had made the thing herself, which is not true. I will say that the real crocheter, a fellow inmate of Satan's, obviously has a fair amount of skill. But frankly, people, it just ain't that great. Ponchos are ten a penny these days, and most of them, including this one, look like something I'd use to wash my car. What really gets my goat is that the inmate, according to CNN, spends most of her days crocheting with yarn provided by the prison. Federally funded yarn and all the spare time in the world? Sign me up for Camp Cupcake.<br />Speaking of yarn, I was burrowing through my stash the other day, and I found a disturbing amount of unused skeins. I bought yarn here and there for projects, but never got around to starting them. Some of these projects-to-be have been sitting around for at least a year. And some of them have achieved Mystery status, meaning I have completely forgotten what I'd planned to do with the damned yarn when I bought it (this is now DeadWeight Yarn). So, until most of these are done, no new projects for me. I'm going to work on these projects on a first-bought, first-knit basis.</p><span style="font-size:85%;">How can I complain about Martha posts when I am doing one, too?</span><br /><br /></span>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1110926473074083272005-03-15T16:42:00.000-08:002005-03-15T15:54:58.660-08:00Super-sized update!<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This poor blog is languishing.... languishing in the desert of my neglect.</span><br />The other day, I made the mistake of unwittingly timing my errand-running to coincide with the day's release of the public school kids. So of course the library was cluttered with brats of all ages hogging the work spaces and computers, and being generally noisy. I managed to bully off some kids who were using a computer to play games, but half a dozen prepubescent boys crowding around the computer next to yours<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">, shouting out game tips,</span> and jostling for play time can be pretty distracting. I soon gave up and left, fuming about stupid parents who consider libraries to be a daycare center for their stupid offspring.<br />The grocery store wasn't much of an improvement. (For god's sake, kids! If you don't have anything better to do than wander around the produce aisle, then go the fuck home!) Walking to the self-checkout, I passed this spherical little son of a chunk who was buying a date with Little Debbie. As I walked by, my senses were totally assaulted by the withering smell of a human who believes bathing is the original sin. After suppressing my gag reflex, I held my breath and had an imaginary conversation in my head:<br />Me: "excuse me, but the deodorant is in aisle 9. By the way, have your parents had The Talk with you yet?"<br />Stinky McBaron: "you mean, like the birds and bees and stuff?"<br />Me: "No. Hygiene."<br />Parents, please teach your kids about basic grooming and cleaning habits. Forget drugs and STDs, 'cause believe you me, if you kid smells like a sauna in the Wilderness Men's Hunting Lodge, he's never even gonna have social interactions, let alone get a chance to swap genital cooties.<br />Speaking of grooming, our society has stipulated that women need to be smooth and clean-shaven. Well, I believe that men should be expected to at least do some basic fur trimming. It's so unappetizing to see what looks like Bigfoot's pubic region burgeoning from a man's armpit. I mean, eww.<br />Okay, change of topic. In knitting news, I plunked out a baby hat for my knocked-up coworker. I have no idea how big a bay's head is; to check if the hat was anywhere close to the right size, I tried to borrow an infant from some woman at the mall, but she didn't take too kindly to that. So here is Pengo modeling it instead.<br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/640/BabyHat2.jpg"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #ffffff 2px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #ffffff 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #ffffff 2px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/320/BabyHat2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I'm thinking of making some baby booties to match. But I probably won't.</span>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8050966.post-1108096313319334092005-02-10T19:29:00.000-08:002005-02-12T21:11:05.300-08:00Call out for noodle sushi!<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Out of the darkness... an update emerged....</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Yes, I realized its been nearly a month. I'm a slacker. But with school, work, and school work, I've been a busy little slacker.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I'm progressing slooowly on my projects; I can't seem to find the energy (or time) to get into the knittin' groove. So y'all get a special video game review today. That's right, my friends, wipe the tears of joy out of your eyes, 'cause we're entering the world of "PaRappa the Rappa 2."</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/115/1537/320/Parappa2.jpg" /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Here's the story: our fave rappin' paper doll dog dude was lucky enough to win a lifetime supply of noodles. After weeks of noodles for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, however, PaRappa snaps and heads out to forage for real food. Imagine his dismay when he goes to the best burger joint in town, only to discover that all the meat there has turned into (drumroll) <em>noodles</em>. Other things in town get noodle-ized, and PaRappa seeks out the wisdom of the best rap masters around to solve this mystery.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">As the player, your job is to help PaRappa follow their example. You must press the correct combination of buttons at the right times, or else PaRappa falters in his rappin' and loses points. This can be a bit tricky to get the hang of at first, but all it takes is a bit of practice and *poof* - you're a Rapping Master. This game would be a blast to play with a group; like DDR, the most fun would be laughing at each others' mistakes.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">This game had bad influences on me in two ways:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">1) I REALLY craved noodles for a while.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">2) The songs are totally contagious. I found myself mentally rapping away during any activity - sweeping, homework, laundry, walking, and yes, knitting (knit, knitknit, purl purl!).</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Ahh, I'm a dork.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">"Yeah, I know! I gotta BELIEVE!" -PaRappa</span>Laineyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01881969739805876847noreply@blogger.com0