Well, we got the marriage license. And Greg made me start laughing during the oath. This time next week we’ll be married – I think it’s finally starting to hit me. Although, really, what’s going to change?
Yarr! I finished my April socks for the Knitalong!
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I used some Socka Colori I got in the Pirate Swap – so they have wool in them. Which means if I leave them out, Chalupa tries to steal them and chew on them. I’ve never had a wool-sucking cat before. Luckily, I almost never use wool. But I really like these socks and am disinclined to give them away, so I’ll just have to make sure they’re safe in a drawer.
I love when the cats stretch:
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Chalupa is so little, she can barely peer out the screen door – sometimes, she hangs on the door from her front feet, and her back feet don’t even touch the floor. For some reason I find that ridiculously cute. She’s so little!
Here’s another picture of Skeeter – that dangling leg got me.
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Holy crap. I love this funky skirt. And I especially love the designer for including big sizes for us big gals who want a Blossom skirt.
In other knitting news, I am thisclose to finishing the April Six Sox.
And I just got the Portable Dorothy Parker – I figured I should just dive right in, odds are I’ll love her. And I do. No big surprise. She’s fucking brilliant. I also got Tease – the Bull’s Head was having a buy one, get one half-off sale – and I love pretty much all the projects in it. The BH is still having their sale, and it’s really, really hard for me not to go snatch up a bunch more books I’ve been eyeing up for a while. But I’m trying my best to be semi-tightwadded for the time being, so our wedding-celebratory kegger can be as awesome and generous as possible.
And another cat update: all the kittens are being fostered and/or outright adopted. And it looks like the mama cat is going to be fostered as well – she’s being kept by the IAR volunteer while she recovers from the spaying, and has started letting the volunteer hold her and pet her. Sweet!
Greg just told me about this game, Edward Fortyhands*:
You duct tape a 40 to each hand, and can’t take them off until you’ve finished them.
I don’t know why I find this hysterical, especially since I don’t drink 40s, but it cracks me up just thinking about it.
*Which he believes some of our friends in Wilmington (Max and Travis) originated.
Omar G. has a brilliant phrase that totally sums up how I feel about David Blaine: “It is so far beyond lame that you have to get the next exit and circle back on the access road for days before getting back to lame.”
Bless you, Omar G. That recap warms the bitchy cockles of my cold, dead, black heart.
Go read the rest of his recap of Blaine’s bullshit Drowned Alive, hilariously written as if by David Copperfield, here.
But for real, y’all, David Blaine is NOT a magician. He does stunts, and stupid ones at that. Here’s my favorite story about David Blaine’s lameness:
Remember whenever he did that dumb block of ice stunt? Well, at the time, he was dating Josie Maran. Okay, so he’s all encased in ice, with a catheter inserted so he can relieve himself, and tubes carrying air and water to him. And he has to stay awake, standing, inside the block of ice for, what, 63 hours? Pretty badass, right? Until you learn that his model girlfriend, Josie Maran, stood near his block of ice the entire stunt – and she DIDN’T have a catheter. Josie, I’m impressed with. Blaine, not so much. (I’ll see if I can track down where I came across that info so you don’t think I’m just making shit up.)
Ugh.
I have tender spots – one right under my labret, and one inside my goddamn nostril – the kind that mean zits are coming, but they’re not quite here yet, and they hurt. I hate that shit. Especially the one in my nose.
I’m also kind of ill at a couple of my “guests” to the actual ceremony, as they haven’t RSVP’d yet, and they’re not necessarily a definite to attend. Like, my stepmom has been dealing with getting a cake and updating me on that, and while she hasn’t said, “Just so you know, yes, your father and I are coming,” 1-I’d kind of assumed it, and 2-she’s been telling me about the cake they’re bringing, so if the cake’s making it, so are they. And some people are moving and probably have just been too busy. And some people I can reasonably assume will be there. But some people I can’t – and those people aren’t getting back to me, and it’s just irritating me, and I know I’m going to have to end up calling them my damn self Friday, and in that case why the fuck did I send you an invitation, rather than just call you up on the phone all, “So, June 6th, you coming?” One of my pet peeves is trying to plan an event, asking people to RSVP, and then them NOT DOING THAT. Because normally I don’t care, so when I DO ask for people to get back to me, I mean it, and there’s usually a reason (like in this case, we need to get an actual number to give the restaurant for reservations). Like, my last birthday, where we went to Sitar? It was awesome, and I was thrilled so many people showed up. I was NOT thrilled that only four other people got back to us by when we’d requested, so I called Monday and made reservations for six for Saturday. And then Thursday had to call back and add two more seats. And then Saturday some more slackasses finally got around to calling, and I had to call and see if they could add four more seats (so, twelve people, now). And then two more people didn’t even call but just SHOWED UP at the restaurant. The restaurant staff looked a little put-out. I just don’t want to have to deal with shit like that – like, whether or not members of our “party” can sit with us, since they just showed up at the last minute – on my wedding day.
But the party on the 10th? Just show up. We can throw a kegger without a hard number of who all’s showing up.
Damn, I keep forgetting to post this.
Okay, so a pillarbox is one of those red, round-ish British mailboxes. Hence, pillarbox red.
Two other words I’ve been wondering about lately: antimacassar and aspidistra.
At Topsail, Kathleen explained “antimacassar” to me: Edwardians and Victorians styled their hair with macassar oil; housewives would place a small crocheted cloth over the backs of chairs to protect the fabric from the macassar oil when men sat. Hence, these cloths were antimacassars. The word came up in the Mary Russell book I’m currently reading, and apparently “antimacasser” (-er, not -ar) is the British spelling.
I googled “aspidistra” last night – I forget where I came across it first, but most recently I encountered it in the special features on the Corpse Bride dvd (Tracey Ullman says it while improvising Victorian stuff), and also in the Mary Russell book – on the same page as “antimacasser,” funny enough. Anyway, I was expecting an aspidistra to be an impressive piece of furniture. But apparently it’s just a very hardy plant. Here is the Wikipedia page for it, with a lovely picture. Apparently they’re very hard to kill – so maybe I should get some.
Happy birthday to Morrissey and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle!
More kitten updates: The second kitten was trapped Saturday. The IAR volunteer took the kitten home, as well as the last remaining trap. However, she left the signs up – which was fortuitous, as yesterday a random person heard and caught a THIRD kitten in the same bushes. As she was standing there, wondering what to do with the kitten, one of the signs blew out of the bushes. She called Kat, who happened to be working in Davis at the time, and yay! All kitties are reunited! AWESOME.
Greg and I tried to pick up our marriage license this morning. Unfortunately, I do not have my social security card, and did not have an acceptable alternate form of proof of SSN. We ran over to the SS Admin building, but the wait was too long. Sigh. Tonight, I’m going to see if I can track down my old insurance card – they used to have our SSNs on them. Recently they issued us new cards with a new, non-SSN ID number on them, but I’m pretty sure I still have the old ones somewhere. I probably didn’t throw them out, since they had my SSN on them, unless I cut them up in bitty pieces – but hopefully they’re still floating around in my old wallet. I’m glad we went to the Register of Deeds this morning, instead of, say, the day before the wedding.
My mom (and Sarah) came down today, to celebrate Mother’s Day and my mom’s birthday. I made her three washcloths (patterns all from Knitting Knonsense), which she loved and is planning to use as pockets. (Don’t ask me. I think they’re a little too big and stretchy, but she’s happy, and that’s all that matters.) Dishcloths:
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I also made lunch: stuffed bell peppers for Mom and Greg, lasagna, pesto pea salad, and peach cobbler. I remembered Friday evening that my mom used to love stuffed peppers, so I found a recipe, and it turned out pretty well. And, luckily for me, she stills love them, and hasn’t had any in ages so it was a nice surprise for her. 
We got her up to speed on Lost and Dr. Who, too. And Susan and Mike were in the area, getting triathlon gear for Susan – so they stopped by, which was a nice surprise for all of us. (And we fed them, too. Hee.)
Here’s a (blurry, sorry) picture of the Topsail booby mug:
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And here’s my hair, freshly touched-up:
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I think it’s more pink than red. I’ve seen Pillarbox Red come out a lovely red on some people (go check out Eva Chavela’s hair, and her music while you’re at it – it’s my current non-stop soundtrack for work) – but I think I’m either going to have to mix in some Vampire Red, or just use strictly Vampire Red, if I want a definite red red from Manic Panic. But I’m fine with the pinky red right now – it’s fun, too. (And I must admit I’m nowhere near as familiar with other lines of hairdye, so if anyone has any suggestions for a line, or a good red, feel free to let me know. I know Pam suggested Special FX -but I can’t remember seeing it anywhere around town. But then lately I’ve been going to Light Years, and all they have is MP. Maybe I should check Hot Topic?)
