It’s Furious Balancing

Octopus Knits — a frequent commenter here — was kind enough to call me a

I love reading her blog. She’s a very talented knitter, and her “cats wearing knitwear” photos are downright hysterical.

In honor of the hot pink button, I’ll also post a “in progress” pic of the hot pink Tempting Sweater. They almost match!

I also want to respond to her birthday meme, but I know I will want to type a lot more than I’m up for today. I’m still bouncing back from the awful pain on Sunday and want to crawl into my hidey hole with my computer and chocolate ice cream.

Well, that and I’m winding up the Morrowind quest to have the last of the four Ashlander tribes nominate me the Nerevarine. Then it’s off to Vivec to meet with the Archcanon and demonstrate that I’m not a heretic, etc., etc.

Never a dull moment around here.

I’m dealing with chronic pain issues today — and I used up all my verbosity yesterday — so all you get is prurient pictures of hot peppers and day lilies.

I love online personality tests and memes. I prefer personality tests. It’s all well and good to know that the foreign city I greatest resemble is Paris and that I am 65% misanthropic, but I prefer the solid standbys of the Myers-Briggs, the Bem Sex Role Inventory, and the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory. No, scratch that last one. I seriously doubt the MMPI is online

In any event, I found a nice version of the Myers-Briggs that churned out a spiffy badge for your blog or myspace page or whatever, so I thought I would give it a whirl. I love spiffy badges. I will probably need to create a separate page on this blog to contain them because if I put up all the spiffy badges I found it would look a tad chaotic over here.

I went back this morning to take a look at their Multiple Intelligences Test. I was interested because it measured different scales of intelligence, e.g., verbal, musical, mathematical, kinesthetic, and so on — a nice change from the run of the mill IQ tests, which measure verbal/analytical and spatial relations skills alone. I knew I would score highest on the verbal, but wanted to see how the other scales stacked up (especially how low I would score in the categories of “musical” “spatial,” and “kinesthetic,” all forms at which I, to be blunt, truly suck).

So, here’s the results:

There’s nothing too shocking here. “Verbal” off the charts and everything else median or lower, some much lower. Pretty typical for me. I’m not at all surprised that “musical” is all the way at the bottom.

Since everyone likes to be told things they already know about themselves, I clicked to read the definition of verbal/linguistic intelligence. Just a sampling:

• Loves words games (Oh, yes.)
• Often speaks of what they have read (Too much, I’m sure some people think.)
• Notices grammatical mistakes (Most of the time, not all of the time.)
• Enjoys writing (A yep.)
• Cherishes their book collection (“Cherish” is a mild word to use, but acceptable.)
• Likes to use “fancy” words (I beg your pardon? Back the truck up, mister.)

[I'm going to degenerate into some snarky commentary here. If you don't like my snarky posts, I'm going to suggest you go to Cute Overload and look at pictures of widdle kitties and bunny wabbits and come back when I've calmed down and am writing about cats and yarn and computer games.]

Still with me? Moving along.

Likes to use “fancy” words? Putting quotation marks around “fancy” contains a little too much condescension, don’t you think? “Oooo, those verbal/linguistic people use ‘fancy’ words to show off how smart they are. They can’t be normal like us; they have to be ‘fancy’.”

I went on to look at the defining characteristics for the other categories and the only other uses of quotation marks I found were:

• Has a mind “like a computer” (logical/mathematical intelligence)
• Learns by “doing” (bodily/kinesthetic intelligence)

Not quite the same tone, is it?

And what exactly is a “fancy” word? Something with more than two syllables? A word that a person with a steady diet of People magazine, American Idol, and Fox News wouldn’t recognize? But I digress.

A more apt and appropriate description would be “has a large vocabulary.” Geez Louise, how hard is that to come up with? There’s not a “fancy” word to be found in it, either.

Of course, there is a tremendous amount of humor here in that a verbal/linguistic person is rewriting the description of verbal/linguistic intelligence.

I’ll leave you on that (less snarky) note. Enjoy the rest of your day, cats and kittens!

I have little to offer for your viewing pleasure today outside of the Koigu yarn lounging on my back steps in the late afternoon sun.

I [heart] the innernets. It nevers ceases to amuse me. So much information (and misinformation) so quickly, and so little time to read it all. I confess to being an information junkie. Not a “news” junkie who has to read the online versions of twenty different newspapers, but a Headline Skimmer, a Blog Reader, a Follow This Link Mouse Clicker who sometimes wonders how she got to a particular website when the last thing she knew was that she was looking up aggregious on dictionary.com and somehow wound up spending 15 minutes on kittenwar.com before checking on travel packages to British Columbia.

So, I have a few Found Things to share with you and, towards the end, the beginning of a discussion on sock yarn because I am, after all, a (pending) member of the Knitting Kitty web ring and should discuss knitting at some point. Maybe I should just confess that I enjoy taking pictures of yarn.

Tonight’s ramblings round the innernets have yielded the following:

1. The first LOLCat I have seen of the Rhode Island hospice cat who has been predicting patients’ deaths. Once you read the article, you’ll understand.

LOLCat courtesy of ICanHasCheezburger.com

2. This next one requires a bit of explanation if you haven’t been a regular reader of my blog. I’m a The Lord of the Rings fan (the books and the movies both) and one of my side-barred web comics, DM of the Rings, offered this little tidbit today:

Courtesy of Shamus Young’s DM of the Rings

Inserting a lengthy explanation of exactly why I think this is funny will make it unfunny, so I’m going to do that all in a footnote and you may read it if you wish. Or not.

3. Blogging is up next. I love looking at the referrals part of sitemeter to discover how people get to my blog. I get a lot of hits for “denamarin,” but I had a few unusual ones today — “using a steamboat cooker,” “i can has peach,” “lolcats+sink blocking,” and, finally, “rubber vulture.”

4. This last Found Thing segues into the knitting part of this post. I’ve discovered there actually is a web site full of yarn pr0n. My own yarn pr0n is nowhere near as good as the pictures on that website. /sigh.

Koigu

This is moderately good (for a clueless photographer), but that’s not the true color of the yarn. It’s darker in Real Life. I guess I will have to take it outside tomorrow and photograph it in natural light on the back steps, my usual photo shoot location. Someone alert the neighbors.

Since I’ve been digressing here for a while, and need to take a break and go drool over yarn, I’ll save my post on “Why do I Have 10 Skeins of Sock Yarn and Haven’t Started a Single Sock?” for a later time.

My photographic skillz, while certainly not uber l33t, are improving.

These are my Cosmos “Bright Lights” (Cosmos sulphureus, for those who prefer the Latin nomenclature).

I’ve been planting this variety of Cosmos, starting from seeds, since I owned a small house over in Ypsilanti. I prefer vibrant yellow-orange-red flowers over wimpy pinky-bluey-buttercuppy flowers. I didn’t know that Cosmos even came in white and pink until a few years ago. I just assumed that all Cosmos were like the ones I planted.

Sometimes — not often — I question what led me to knitting. Well, not so much as “what led me to knitting” as to “what keeps me knitting in the face of my abysmal spatial relations skills and overall level of nonverbal creativity.” Knitting certainly isn’t something that comes easily to me. Like modding for Morrowind, it pushes my limits — makes me think so intensely that I can feel my brain working overtime.

Not all time, though. I can knit along on my Tempting sweater, blithely knit-knitting and purl-purling away, until I’m distracted by a conversation (or The Husband) and make a mistake. That’s when Depression Sets In. Two purls instead of two knits… How the heck do I fix that?!

Well, I turn to knittinghelp.com and my copy of When Bad Things Happen to Good Knitters and try to find a way to fix things. It must show Lots of Pictures. I am Utterly Lost if I don’t have Lots of Pictures. This is why I adore knittinghelp.com — Videos! And I can replay them over and over andoverandoverandover and pause them and replay them ad infinitum until I Figure Things Out. Since it is next to impossible for me to dissect the anatomy of a stitch, or trace the path of the working yarn, or do whatever that thing is other people seem to be able to do with rotating three-dimensional objects in their heads, I either (a) mess up completely and frog the whole damned project, or (b) make what might appear to some of you to be some obvious, easy-peasy correction and then feel smug for the rest of the evening. Tonight, the answer was (b).

How does Madame Defarge fit into this? She doesn’t, really. I’ve just had that phrase (the title of my post) in my head for several days now and needed to commit it to paper media. Despite her obvious drawbacks — bloodthirtsy, vengeful, dead — I seriously doubt that La Tricoteuse would be bullied by her knitting.

Let it not be said that I am not amenable to changing my opinions — specifically my opinion concerning the Harry Potter Phenomenon. Considering that I am a devoted follower of H.P. Lovecraft, who is frequently described as a minor hack writer, I should not be casting any stones in regards to what I deem “literature” and what I deem “tripe.”

LOLCat courtesy of ICanHasCheezburger.com

At lunch today, I learned that the Exceedingly Intelligent Wife of an Exceedingly Intelligent Local Attorney in her eagerness to read the final Harry Potter book actually shut herself in their bathroom. I admire that in a Reader. It reminds me of My Younger Self on several levels. A few encouraging bits in the media about Rowling’s deft tying up of loose ends in the series also piqued my interest.

So I ordered Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone from amazon.com. I got the mass-market paperback edition, with the rationale that I wouldn’t be spending too much money (and since I wasn’t spending too much money I could therefore justify the purchase of something a smidge more erudite — the annotated version of T. S. Eliot’s The Waste Land — and something “just for fun” — Stephanie Pearl-McPhee’s Knitting Rules!).

I’m also looking for Something Else to Read because I’ve reached that part in The Fugitive when I want to slap Marcel into the middle of next week. “Albertine left you, eh? Perhaps it’s really not due to her lesbian proclivities and wild, abandoned desires but actually may have something to do with the fact that you’re an overprotective, overly jealous, clueless git?”

So, while I have this sinking feeling that I may be sucked into Pott-headness in much the same way people talk about being drawn into a stumbled-upon, coincidental televangelist broadcast and “finding Jesus,” I’m giving myself a few pats on the head about my trying to remain open-minded.

This whole enterprise may be a dismal failure. Harry Potter and The Sorcerer’s Stone may suffer a fate similar to The Blithedale Romance, or, Heaven forfend, I might actually enjoy reading it.

I have discovered the Higher Purpose for the fuchsia Malabrigo — the Tempting sweater from knitty.com sans bow. I don’t “do” bows or flounces or ruffles or petticoats or any of that other frou-frou, girly nonsense that screams, “I’m female; infantilize me!” I can barely manage pantyhose.

In any event, I have cast on for the medium size. I love working with Malabrigo. It’s simply luscious.

I’m spending the rest of the day knitting and gaming. Ciao, cats and kittens! Before I go, here’s a newly-discovered LOLCat for your amusement.

LOLCat courtesy of ICanHasCheezburger

I am one of the few people who will not spend today ensorceled by the latest installment in the Life of the Boy Wonder Wizard. I haven’t read a single word of any of the Harry Potter books and there is no doubt in my mind that I will go to my grave a fulfilled and well-read woman nonetheless.

It is a closely-held belief of mine that any work — literary, cinematic or otherwise — that can so dominate popular culture for so long must, inherently, be low brow and aiming for the lowest common denominator. However, since I haven’t read any of these books, I am in no position to say whether this holds true (or not) for Rowlings, Potter, et al.

I didn’t say I was right; I’m just saying it’s one of my beliefs. I realize I may be putting to fine a point on this distinction and am uncertain if any of the Pott-heads would be able to discern it, but I digress.

If this series can withstand the test of time (i.e., it is still in print in 25, 30, or 40 years) I may pick it up and peruse it. I still reserve the right to throw it across the room.

To my recollection, I’ve only thrown one book, the Norton Critical Edition of Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Blithedale Romance. This was during sophomore year’s American Lit class and, if memory serves me, I picked it up and repeatedly slammed it against a wall in our dorm to the point pages fluttered from its limp carcass. I still can’t remember what set me off.

Mama is busy with yarn — and chasing me around with the camera waiting for me to “do something cute.” Cute, indeed. I am the epitome of cute just sitting here, and she is the laziest woman in existence. Swilling coffee. Knitting. Surfing the innernets. She won’t even expend the energy to write her own blog post today. Hhrmmmpf. It’s a good thing she has me around the house to pick up the slack.

It’s Art Fair time and I’m on vacation.

For those of you unfamiliar with the Ann Arbor Summer Art Fair, it can only be described as a visit to the seventh circle of Hell. Imagine your average college town with a population just over 100,000, block off four major streets in the downtown and campus area, and invite 500,000 oblivious tourists to come visit over a 4-day time period.

Good God. I hate the Art Fair. I can’t go on talking about it because it will just make me livid. Let’s just say that those 500,000 oblivious tourists have no idea that there are still Real People working and living in this city. Apparently, Ann Arbor is some Brigadoon or Shangri-la of Art that mystically appears for four days in July. Back when I wasn’t wise enough to take my vacation at this time, I would have the urge to stand at the intersection of Main and Liberty and yell “GET THE &^$%# OUT OF MY CITY.”

Deep breath. Moving on.

I did take advantage of the sale at Busy Hands, an LYS a few blocks from my office. I was planning on braving the crowds on Thursday — a sale on Malabrigo being the only thing that would tempt me out of my quiet, air-conditioned cave to face the Invading Unwashed Hordes.

I picked up five worsted-weight skeins in fuchsia.

Malabrigo Worsted with Cat Foot

It’s just a little over 1,000 yards, so it’s not enough to make a sweater. It is just too luscious to make into a humdrum hat or some other pedestrian object. I will have to live with the yarn for a little while before it reveals its Higher Purpose to me.

I took the yarn pr0n picture this morning when I was out with the cats. “George, that crazy neighbor lady is taking pictures of yarn again.” In order to look less ridiculous, I took some close-ups of my flower garden. Just to be on the safe side, you know.

Zinnias

Rudbeckia hirta, “Autumn Colors”

Even though they are trite and silly, I enjoy blog memes, especially the ones the get me a big, brightly-colored widget-button-thingie.

40%

[Yes, I KNOW THE SPACING IS OFF. I've been playing with it for half an hour now.]

Deconstructing the test, my chances of survival appear to be based on my Save My Own Bacon First mentality and a copious supply of canned goods and ramen noodles. My percentage could be higher if I owned (and knew how to use) a firearm, lived in a less urban area, and was in better physical condition. All righty then, if I can’t run from zombies, I can hide from zombies, and I’m smart enough to know not to go to a hospital or mall when the chips are down and the undead are marching.

Next up, a parental guidance warning!

My references to pain, hell, and torture put me in the PG category. My post that included erotica, sex, and lesbian cheerleaders didn’t even show up on the radar, nor did my link to Susie Bright’s (Not Safe For Work) Journal..

And now, Cadavers!

$3440.00The Cadaver Calculator – Find out how much your body is worth. From Mingle2 – Free Online Dating

I can’t recall if I would be of more interest to medical research if I was an albino. I might need to retake this one. This is a moot point since my goal is to donate my body to the Forensic Anthropology Center at the University of Tennessee, and they are welcome to have me at no cost.

Enjoy the rest of your weekend. Watch for zombies.

[That's Rolling On the Floor Laughing - not Rolfing as in massage therapy or rolfing as in an onomatopoetic way of saying vomiting.]

After my post yesterday, I decided to spend some time on the ‘Net searching for more literary LOLCats. Now, it’s my understanding that the LOLCat phenomena encompasses not only the visual pastiche of “cat picture and silly misspelled caption,” but also the language alone which, to me, is heavily influenced by l33tspeak. The popular Cats Can Has Grammar post by Anil Dash discusses kitty pidgin in more detail.

As far as Internet surfing is concerned, I have the attention span of a dog. “Oooooo, this looks inneresting.” Click. “Oh, a link to something else inneresting.” Click. “How cool.” Click. “What’s this?” Click. “Look! A shiny!” Click. Click. Click, click, clickclickclickclick.

In any event, I type “lolcat literary” and stumble upon a blog post with 550+ comments, some of which are downright hysterical. At least, they’re downright hysterical to me, the Phi Beta Kappa English Major Who is Still Twelve Years Old on the Inside.

If you have time — and are so inclined — read through the comments. If you don’t have time, I’m going to post a few of the ones I like best. Oh, let’s make this a game! Name the Literary Allusion! Answers in the footnotes — no cheating! I think these are easy peasy anyway.

* * * * *

I can has peach?
O HAI MERMAIDZ! kbai

* * * * *

t3l3m4x0s: invisible daddy
su1t0rz: IN UR HALL, EATIN UR CHEEZBURGERS
0dyss3us: i can has ithaka?
p0s31dwn: NO WAI

* * * * *

OH NOES !! I IS SUDDENLY TRANSFORMD INTO MONSTRUS INSECT !!

[ "Hey, guys, you won't believe the size of the bug I just squished in Gregor's room." ]

* * * * *

IZ IN UR HORS
TAKIN UR BASE

* * * * *

oh noes! dark!
im in ur old age, cussin
DO NOT WANT!

* * * * *

A few overlap the LOLCat speak with syntax from old text-based MUD’s.

> IM IN UR MEADHALL EATIN UR GUYZ
> wh@ h4pn!!
> 5umbdy set up utz t3h 6renz0r!!
> hai I r hiro can I has arm?
> OH NOES
> oh hai mom
> 4lL UR C4RLZ 4R3 83l0N9 T0 u2.
> i move zig make ur time.
> PWND

* * * * *

>UR IN HEL NOW
>U SEEZ A LAKE OF BURNIN FIRE
>U HAZ NO HOPE

N

>BEATRIZ IZ NOT THIS WAI

E

>BEATRIZ IZ NOT THIS WAI

S

>O NOES U IS EATIN BY A GRUE
>KTHX BAI

* * * * *

That’s all for today, cats and kittens. All this LOLCat speak has worn me out. I think I need ice cream.