I am scattered right now and have to try and find the vodka under my desk so I can face my work. But damn if I can’t weave a story and some how get knitting in there! Oh yes I will, if you stay along for the ride.
Currently I have no shreds of intellect left, I am editing a publication. To be exact, currently a chapter by a Nepalese "author" who should be bitchslapped by Shiva with all arms wound up, at once. I was initially entertained by the fact that in “creating tables” he applies the format “table” to his text and expects that the table MAGICALLY appears like… POUF. But that got old after the 8th table I had to construct. But it didn’t stop there. Serious boy needs to STEP AWAY FROM THE BULLET POINT NOW. Yes my friends if you are looking for me… the Nepalese have bullet pointed me to impaling myself on the dullest object on the face of the earth, repeatedly.
Serious the Nepalese had 82 bullet points IN.A.ROW. Which for the record, tops the 47 numbered points the Bangladeshi thought were conclusions and the Vietnamese who needs to be introduced to the finer concepts of a paragraph... as in one sentence does not constitute a paragraph; even if you do it 12 times in a row on the same topic. MAKE THE ONE SENTENCE PARAGRAPHS STOP. Yes this is coming from me, an ardent lover of run on sentences (all bow down to the power of “stream of consciousness” writing) and in avoidance therapy over paragraphs... All this too, before we discuss the use of graphics and people who should not be allowed near a colouring book. My head is swimming, and I have to make this crap presentable as the publication will be for sale externally (and this must be done before I change posts). Oh yeah and this publication... it is 481 pages. I officially am DSM III Tourettes diagnosed. My ass is twitching and I have been caught shouting in the outside voice- DIE BULLETMAN DIE
Where the fuck is my cabana boy and that margarita/bottle of tequila? I have a date with that worm! :)
Another entertaining thing at work since I took the other post, you too may hold this against me. According to the admin officer for my division, because I didn’t know how to read her mind and follow up on work that not the person before me but the person before her did. That earthquake in Pakistan/Kashmir? My fault! I did not get a paper she did not ask for to her in time therefore Katrina and Wilma were sent to their destructive paths- by me. The guilt it is kind of getting to me too, because the tsunami?? Yeah seems I caused that too. My divination rod didn’t give me the right priority set or deadlines. And so you know her work that she has for me to do that takes 2 weeks (as I have to do her job and mine) didn’t get done in 3 days... go figure. Let's all swim!!!! Swim Timmy Swimmmmmmm
All this begs the question of what can I do? Well I can do this thing with my thumb, I can do the splits, I can curse in 8 languages and I have a sincere aptitude for causing natural disasters. Oh yeah and since I can't beat the living shit out of these people I am editing or the admin officer... I am knitting with the big sticks instead of carrying them. See I told you people I would get to the knitting sooner or later cause I am doing it. I know you are astounded and shocked beyond words! This was once a knitblog, not just my insane ranting and ravings… like a phoenix from the ashes the knitting arises.
The ever so lovely Helen wanted a sweater, and with the shit she has been going through recently, she DESERVES one. I like knitting for other people, especially generous, funny, witty, gorgeous and brilliant people like Helen. There is no one else better to have a date to dance in hell by the Margarita machine with. I promise. So after much prodding she finally took me up on my offer (you pick the pattern and get the yarn and I will turn it back around to you as a sweater- that I can make appear MAGICALLY like POUF). She went and got herself the yarn and the pattern and thank god the needles. I picked it up from her while visiting London. And promptly compressed it into the suitcase, for the trip back to France, where upon arrival I started knitting.
This means I am currently putting all other projects on quasi hold (that includes getting the London and Clapotis posts up and done and attaching in photos, not to mention my well over due laundry tip and other cleaning things that ought be done) to get Beth from Rowan Ribbon Twist done and out to her. It is pretty simple and mindless knitting. It is almost all in stockinette (see Margene it is about the Zen :) It goes pretty fast, though this knitting on big needles doesn’t go as fast as I expected being that we are at a stitch and row gauge of almost 1 st per cm. Seems knitting with rollerpins isn’t exactly as easy to corral as knitting with pencils. The “stick a pointy stick in the crotch alla pit knitting” style seems to be the most efficace for those curious minds that have gone towards the gutter. I have however finished the sleeves (no visit to an island when a sleeve is done in a late night session) and am about one night away from the back being done. All this with minimal knitting time.
I don’t think I will ever be a big gauge knitter for my average project. That said… this isn’t too bad :) I could see one such project every so often for myself. If Fall didn’t already have a lineup and we weren’t already staring down the rifle barrel at November I would probably make Roxie. I really liked Jen’s.
But after Beth is done the next state of affairs deal is to get the rest of the goods “finished up”. “FOs” like Fern, Pretty Wrappy Top (I have the yarn now, collar here I come :), a pair of Natalya gauntlets I started last year, “Kitchener” closed some socks, wrap up a scarf, and… and… and we’ll talk once I have gotten there.
I should be writing up my update backlog blogs. I could be starting a sweater for the very deserving Helen with rolling pins for needles. Actually I would be dancing in the streets, but I am a nut case. Instead I have been in upheaval.
AGAIN PEOPLE. Really what would this little corner of the internets be without my insane ramblings about international life or a dozen of my neuroses? For the record, this is no knitting blog- nope not anymore. In case you weren’t aware, this ride has been hijacked! And so has my brain; I am blaming the aliens.
What this time? My old boss wanted me to have a permanent post. Seeing Tink on contract countdown meltdown does that to people. So he went to the stump for me. And while I went through the interview, I have a feeling that he laid on the charm. I was warmed up shit sundae in that interview and positive I TERRIFIED the Japanese official. He is oh so very reserved Japanese and me I am me. Anyways, I am a bad judge of these things. I was just was offered a permanent contract. My response, was so incoherent as to make George Bush look like a Roman Orator.
Why was I not immediately jumping up and down saying YES, YES, YES like Meg Ryan doing her orgasm impression? With me life is rarely ever that simple and when it is… I am scared of it. I can’t make logic of it, because there is none to be made. But there was inner turmoil for sure. Why??? This job gives me a 25 percent increase in take home, provides other extras like “home leave” and is GUARANTEED for at least 13 months, but in theory 24 months. What is there to say beyond that? Where be the turmoil? HAHAHA this is me… The turmoil comes from my principles. God damn principles fucking around with my inner peace.
In simple terms: I work for a LOVELY boss (and I am loyal to people), I have a decent title, I get a chance to do some substantive work and I would have traveled for work- to China! That said the topic is less interesting and tensions within the team… they make me want to impale myself on a large dull object, regularly. Oh yeah…and the contract is only until December with no guarantees after that. Job I just got: it be permanent, a 25 percent increase in take home (which will all go to my student loans), topic is more interesting, and did I mention I don’t have to go through this shit again for 2 years? Negatives: well from what I gather (things were not clear in the interview) there will be no travel, I will be working for a timid Japanese man, and again the change and all that accompanies it.
I found making decisions about this difficult. I am not used to this looking out for number one. I have gotten where I am by my merits, taking care of those around me and them in turn taking care of me. So up and leaving someone on these terms- doesn’t exactly sit well with me. But after they couldn’t or wouldn’t counter I had no other choice, I took the post. I don’t know what this is going to mean or do to me… but there you have it.
Mama's got a new job and her is gonna buy some TBM yarn! After a nice lie in. And write up some of those backlogged posts :)
The blogger you are trying to reach is not able to come to the blog.
She has had her life explode on and then alternatively vomit in technicolor on her (note the ON HER part). She is riding around the whirly twirly where the time warp is more than a dance you do during the Rocky Horror Movie.
And she has been invaded or abducted by aliens... we're not telling! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
But when we have finished possessing her whole and let the pepto-bismal take some affect she will have a clapotis post, a Berlin post, a London post and a post about her raging insanity.
Same batshit time, same batshit channel, but no batshit mobile!
Until then... Elvis has left the building :)
It seems that all that talk about the spam for my non-existent penis and the identity crisis it instigates, not to mention the talk about doctors... well it brings the crazies/spammers out of the woodwork. And before it really gets out of control, and before I can make the migration to the independant url, I enabled the captcha to attempt to put an end to it all (the spam, not you know life as we know it or anything :) I know, it is one more thing you have to type in and it is annoying. But for now it is all I can do to try and put a lid on any spam.
Now to go and figure out how to delete spam. Cause the last thing I need is more info on penis enlargement. It is Monday morning and I am not about to start it hyperventilating over the fact that well each time I look in my pants I am confronted with the fact, a fact that I am perfectly ok with until someone else asks me if I want to enlarge it, that I have NO PENIS. (that sentence alone should get me some great googles...)