This is one of the hottest things I have seen/read in a while. It’s about Team Hoyt, who do triathlons together – see, Rick’s disabled, and his father, Dick, pushes him in the wheelchair (running), tows him in a dinghy (swimming), and pedals him on a handlebar seat (biking). DAMN. They are awesome. They also do marathons and duathlons, and have climbed mountains together, and – just, wow. Very, very cool.
Here is their website.
Thanks to Jenn:
Find your own pose!
What’s weird is I thought the test was total bollocks, but that dude on the right? That’s me. I totally sleep like that. That dude on the left (or lady, I guess) would be my body pillow, though.
Yesterday, I was thinking about how I always wanted to make a Sitcom Chic, but, sadly, never got past swatching for it, and only had one ball of Cotton-Ease, and then it was discontinued.
And today I find out that Cotton-Ease is coming back!! YAY!
Someone please explain to my brain (especially the worry faculties) that, really, I have about three months to get my shit into the grad program – I don’t absolutely need to be up at 2:25am *tonight* writing out a possible answer to a question I probably won’t even be asked in my application.
However, the answer is pretty spiffy, if I do say so myself.
I am seriously giving myself an ulcer, though. UGH.
Crap. Of course now that I’m actually knitting the August Six Sox, it’s almost the end of September and I’ve only just started the second sock. Oh well.
And I still want to use Rebecca’s yarn to make a pair of Elfine’s socks for myself. AND I have like three dresses I keep meaning to make, and about three skirts, AND a shirt. Oy.
AND I still have three pointy kitties I need to finish the fuck up, throw in some boxes with cookies and assorted goodies, and mail off to people who are long overdue for a pick-me-up. I am the WORST (the BLURST) at sending packages.
Oh god. I think there’s someone on Etsy who wanted some beads and I said I’d mail them out after surgery. …Well, it’s after surgery, right? Jesus.
I’m nervous about some stuff, so this post is really just to distract myself. But I’ll tell you what’s bugging me:
-I’ve got an appointment with my doctor today, to follow up on that liver lesion, now that I’m mostly healed up from surgery. Ugh. I know they said they find stuff like that all the time, and that it’s usually nothing, but you know me and worrying. And then I have a contrast CT scan to look forward to – I hear the dye is somewhere on the scale from “uncomfortably warm” to “you feel like you’re burning up,” and also makes you feel like you’re pissing yourself. On top of that, I’m worried the IV will go in my hand again, and I’m not ready for round two of that shit. (I still have a damn mark from a month and a half ago on my hand. UGH.)
-I made a rather big decision a couple days ago. I mean, it was actually more like admitting to myself that there wasn’t really a choice to be made, there was just what needed to be done. But still. It rhymes with “mad fool,” which is kinda how I feel for deciding to do it. I guess I’ll have to do applications in the spring for next fall? I don’t know. I’m so nervous that I don’t really want to think about it, or look into programs, or start prepping for the GRE, or anything. But I need to. Bleah.
Anyway. Two nights this week, Skeeter decided to be cute and sleep next to my leg (the one I stick out from under the covers for temperature regulation). Usually he would never do this (I think because I toss and turn too much), and usually I would be so thrilled to have him snuggling me – except that both times he woke my ass up at five in the morning, horking up a hairball, and NOT getting off the bed. Chalupa has a hairball, and she jumps to the floor. Skeeter, not so much. And I’m not really down with cat puke on my bed, especially not while I’m *in* it, even more so when said cat is puking next to and possibly on my leg. So I had to boot him off the bed, then get up and clean up his puke (or risk stepping on it in the “real” morning), and then banish him from the bedroom. Poor guy. Anyway, here’s a picture of him doing one of his favorite things: playing in boxes.
 |
He climbed in all by himself and sat there for a while, watching tv with me. What a loon.
I keep meaning to work on goodie packages for friends who might need a pick-me-up (there seems to be a nasty run of the blues and/or hard times going around), and I keep not doing it. It’s not entirely laziness, though – I’ve had a nasty, nasty cold that whooped my ass, and I really didn’t want to make germ-infested cookies. I mean, I wash my hands like crazy when I’m making cookies, to keep from getting non-cookie stuff in the cookies, but still…I don’t want to take any chances. (Like, if I have to push a strand of hair out of my face, I wash my hands. Or if I drop something and pick it up, I wash my hands. Scratch my chin, wash my hands. And so on. LOTS of hand washing. Usually I don’t worry too much about washing my hands, but when I’m making food for other people, LOTS of hand washing. But I don’t trust hand washing to keep my gnarly germs out, so, no shared-food-cooking, other than for me and Greg – who has my cooties anyway – when I’m sick.)
Anyhoodle. I’ve been spending my free time trying to get better, mainly, but I have accomplished some things. I finally succeeded in sticking it to some damn lentils and making a lentil loaf (before I got sick). See:
 |
I can’t feel that it’s a “real” meatloaf without ketchup on top – and, yes, I realize I’m not making real meatloaf to begin with, since there’s no meat in it. But it just doesn’t feel right without ketchup on top, somehow. And in case you’re wondering, the recipe is from the New Farm Vegetarian Cookbook, a most excellent collection of vegan recipes and information.
I finished one of the August Six Sox, and started the second. I’m pleasantly surprised by how it turned out, and have decided that I love it (even though I was doubtful when I started it). Here’s the first one, pre-Kitchenering:
 |
I also ordered some socks from Sock Dreams, my new favorite store. Holy shit. I looooooove socks and tights and legwear, and just haven’t been able to really easily find any neat ones and/or awesome and convenient suppliers. But now I have Sock Dreams. And I am soooo excited (and my wallet is cringing). Anyway, my order showed up yesterday and totally perked up my evening, as well as my day today since I actually got to wear one of my new pairs. (I wasn’t expecting to be able to wear them comfortably until cooler weather – but it was cool enough today!) I love my new red and black striped socks (an excellent replacement for the old Emily Strange ones I had to retire a while back):
 |
They will actually go over my knee, but just barely over it, so it looks kind of odd – hence the little cuff.
I’ve got some more pictures, actually, but I know I tend to be a bit of an ass about pictures, posting them all at once, and then posting a shit ton of boring-ass text-only posts. So I’m going to try and spread the pictures out more evenly, and hopefully make this place more visually interesting.
So, now I’m off to read some homework, watch Muppets from Space again (thanks, Julie!), and enjoy the hell out of wearing my new striped socks.
UGH.
I had a moment today (okay, more like an hour or so) where I just couldn’t deal. I hate when that happens. So I need to recharge. And I did a little bit – Greg made the brilliant suggestion of chilling out for a bit in the arboretum, and that helped immensely. But I still feel kinda worn out and rundown and just…bleah. Wanh. I had a lot of shit (of varying importance and needs and etc.) dropped into my lap around the same time, and all of a sudden I just felt overwhelmed and too sapped of energy/strength to deal with it. I know I need to just take things one at a time, and I’m sure after some snuggle time with the little monsters I’ll feel much better. If someone could make it rain Friday or Saturday, that would be awesome, too.
Bleah. Sometimes I wish I ran on batteries, you know? And could just pop in some new ones. Like, I actually had a good night’s sleep last night – I’ve been having insomnia like crazy lately. So I woke up all refreshed-feeling this morning and ready to go – and then get blindsided by this…psychological/emotional drain. Ugh. Wanh, Kathy, fucking wanh and get over it.
Edited to add later: Well, that’s funny. I got an update on some bullshit that was stressing me out earlier – more bullshit, but this time it just made me mad and fired me up, instead of making me feel overwhelmed. And now I’m ready to get shit done and take care of bidness. 
Weird, how the same thing (more or less) can have such different effects. Or maybe I just needed that time in the arboretum.
Jesus fuck, I love the new Knitty.
MagKnits, too.
Damn you, homework, for getting in the way of all my sweet, sweet crafting time!
If I hadn’t had my gall bladder out, I would totally have had gallstones last night. But since I did have it out, I had a great time instead. Yay!
We had dinner at Pao Lim (yum!), and then went drinking on Franklin St. There were a lot of firsts for me: first time at Top of the Hill (not impressed), first time at Lucy’s (meh), first time at Tallulah’s, and first time drinking Jaegermeister (it was in a Redheaded Slut, which was actually pretty tasty). Erin put lifesavers on the front of Carol’s shirt (“suck for a buck” thing, right), and tasks for Carol to accomplish on the back (like sniffing a dude’s butt, or taking a body shot, etc.) – and I think Carol actually got all of them done.
We ran into the groom’s group a couple times. Carol wanted to go to Goldie’s at one point, but when we got in, Brian and gang were there, so we had to leave. (Well, I guess we didn’t *have* to, but there was some frantic motioning from his group, and we left.) Anyway, at one point, someone ordered some Flaming Dr. Peppers for the group, and the bartender actually set them on fire. As he was moving the tray to serve them, the bar caught on fire, so he put it out with the soda nozzle. Anyway, I’m not personally familiar with the Flaming Dr. Pepper – but apparently it’s a shot you drop into a beer. So, Brian (the groom, right) is holding his shot, waiting for someone to hand him the beer – and his fucking HAND catches on fire. So then he drops the shot, and the floor caught on fire. Carol said when he got home, he said, “I don’t feel so good, and they caught my hands on fire.” Awwwww.
