It’s Furious Balancing

Once, again, it’s LOLCat Friday. There are a lot of LOLCats today; I couldn’t decide on just one. I have too many interests.

These first two are for Teh Knitterz:

 

* * * * *

Next up — a Smidgen of Sci-Fi!

 

* * * * *

And, one last one, which really isn’t funny unless you’re familiar with the literary conceits of LOLCats and my continuing amusement with a certain motif:

Later this weekend, a knitting synopsis and the End of the College Football Season as We Know It (and I Feel Fine).

Thank God.

 

Pilahteez — ur doing it rong.

Once again, it’s that day we have all been waiting for! The day before Caturday! The day for LOLCats!

I’m pretty sure that, as far as ‘Net memes go, the LOLCat has been overdone. Ok, more overdone than Hampster Dance but less overdone than All Your Base Are Belong to Us or, my personal favorite, Gary Brolsma lip-synching to Dragostea din tei.

So, on to the LOLCats. Once again, it’s a twofer.

First up, a reference that all MMORPG-ers (well, at least those still upright and breathing) should get:

Secondly, since I know that most of my readers aren’t MMORPG-ers, a LOLCat with more general Innernetz-related appeal:

Enjoy your weekend, Catz and Kittenz; I promise to write about yarn tomorrow. Maybe. Unless I’m distracted by the Innernetz again. Or Jane Austen. I’m a woman of many interests.

We made it through another one, cats and kittens. It’s almost Caturday. I’ve got some big plans for the weekend, which include my first attempt at the Dreaded Three Needle Bind-Off of Doom.

I’m hoping to post a lot of pictures in the next few days — of a completed Tempting sweater, of the yarn that just arrived for my next project(s), of the lovely fiber-y livestock I hope to see at the Fiber Expo at the Washtenaw Farm Council Grounds, etc., etc.  It may not be Rhinebeck, but it’s in my own backyard!

As my cats say, “Busy.”

Well, there’s still an hour and fifteen minutes worth of Friday here, so I’m just squeaking this in under the wire. It’s been a long, uninspiring week, so I apologize for the lack of posts. Something will set me off soon, I am certain.

Anyhow, the LOLCat:

It’s a leit motif!

Yep, Friday once again and time to show off my erudition, er, my LOLCat collection. I couldn’t decide between these two:

or

Of course, the second one is funny only because it alludes to a LOLCat I’ve posted earlier.

Enjoy your Friday, cats and kittens; see you pussycats later.

One of my most enjoyable habits is to get up (relatively) early on a weekend, make a pot of coffee, and surf the Innernets for weirdness.

There is a lot of weirdness on the Innernets, and half the time I don’t even remember how I found a particular pool of weirdness. I follow links. I have the attention span of a dog. I use Firefox and have a minimum of three tabs open at once.

It may be the caffeine, but I found two little lovely bits to share. The first, a web comic I stumbled upon. This one, I do believe, is worth the time to read the archives — and add to the sidebar. I spent half a cup of coffee hitting the “random” button; for some reason, I find this entry hysterical:

Perhaps it’s because I used to be an eBay addict. I’ve since moved on to Etsy, which was most aptly described as “being a lot like eBay, but you don’t feel dirty afterwards.” I wish I could remember which knitting blogger said that so I can give her credit. See note above about “attention span of a dog.”

Second, a perfect verbal pearl from Franklin over at The Panopticon, about his relationship with color: “[M]y idea of Mardi Gras is three shades of gray in one sock.”

A yep, that about sums it up for me. Despite all these photos of hot pink sweaters and scarves, the vast majority of my wardrobe is black, gray, and white. There’s a smattering of red, forest green, teal, and blue in there — well, lots of blue since it brings out the color of my eyes — but the foundation of my so-called style is black, gray, and white, especially my work wardrobe. I own four pairs of the same style of Old Navy pants — in black — which I cycle through with great regularity.

This is one of these spots where I need to be able to footnote my footnotes. I need to work something in about how when I find pants that fit, I buy them in multiples. Since I am more bootylicious… er, amply callipygian than most, and right on the border between what is considered a “petite” and what is not, finding pants that fit is a rarity.

The Old Navy dress pants fit. Thank God. I know I am well outside their average demographic, if not 3 times as old as their average demographic. I am thinking that I could send some 14-year-old into hysterics with this information: “Eeeeeeewwww, I fit into the same pants as a 42-year-old! EEEEEeeeewwwww!!”

I would consider it a good day if I could do that.

Anyhow, I’m off to knit a felted cephalopod and (maybe) go shopping at Joann’s with He Who Has L33t Sewing Skillz.

Happy Friday. We made it through another week.

I am slogging along on the Tempting Sweater, having attached the sleeves to the body and am now knitting aroundandaroundandaround. 204 stitches per row. Knit 2, purl 2, ad infinitum. Progress is slow. I’m not the World’s Fastest Knitter to start with. Far from it. I greatly admire the knitters who seem to be able to turn out 3 or 4 sweaters during the time it takes me to get ONE finished.

I slog along. Knit 2, purl 2; knit 2, purl 2.

I am at the stage when one is winding down one knitting project and is feverishly wanting to Start Something Different. Anything. Different. I am doing my best to practice Knitting Monogamy, but temptations abound. I think my queue over at ravelry is over a dozen items long.

Knit 2, purl 2. Slog, slog, slog.

I will finish this. I only need about 4 more inches before I can bind off and call it finished. I have decided against the Dorky Bow, by the way. Laiane Wolfsong doesn’t do Dorky Bows, but she does seem to have a penchant for outfits that require Hollywood Fashion Tape.

In other news here at Chez Cat Hair, it is Pepper Harvesting Season. The Husband spent 20 minutes in the kitchen garden after work today, and brought in this haul:

Serranos, Hungarian Wax Peppers, and Thai Dragons, a deadly mix. I’m a confessed Spice Wimp and do not partake of hot food. I like highly seasoned food, don’t get me wrong. I’ve been craving Indian food for some time now; it’s just that I don’t consider “Pain” a flavor.

And, finally, it’s time for the LOLCat. I found this guy over at Meme Cats:

 

That’s it for today, cats and kittens. Time to slog. Errr, knit. Yes, time to knit.

Alas, my Knitting Cautionary Tale…

While slogging along on my Tempting Sweater, I discovered that my 60 rows of 2 x 2 ribbing on my Second Sleeve were much shorter than my 60 rows of 2 x 2 ribbing on my First Sleeve. I counted the rows twice, re-counted the stitches, and was puzzled until The Husband pointed out to me that the shorter sleeve was also narrower than the longer sleeve. A puzzlement, until it dawned on me that there was a difference in size between my needles.

Now, this is going to sound like I’m an idiot — or completely blind — but let’s discuss the Nature of the Beast.

The Tempting Sweater is designed so that you knit the body of the sweater (in the round) from the bottom up until you reach the underarm seam (where you join the sleeves to the body). You knit the two sleeves separately and then, in one fell swoop of knitterly genius, attach them to the body and continue knitting the sweater yoke in one continuous piece (with the sleeves now attached) on the large circular needle that you used to knit the body. Basically, you make the three pieces into one big piece.

This requires two sets of double pointed needles, one for each sleeve, since Sleeve One is just sitting there on its double points until you finally get your butt in gear and finish Sleeve Two and attach everything to each other.

<heavy sigh>

The Body was done, and set aside in its 2-gallon Ziploc baggie. The First Sleeve was done and went to keep the Body company in the aforementioned baggie. The Second Sleeve and the First Sleeve did not meet up for comparison purposes until after the Second Sleeve was finished.

So, I wasn’t aware of the difference in gauge until I finished the Second Sleeve, took the First Sleeve out of the aforementioned baggie, and noticed that there was Something Very Wrong Indeed.

I looked at the needles. I took out my Handy Needle Sizing Thing that I inherited from my Grandmother and everything.

The 8-inch Susan Bates size 8 double points are slightly larger than the 8-inch Inox size 8 double points. Seriously. Both packages were clearly labeled as a U.S. size 8, but they were completely different sizes. The Inoxes are closer to a size 7, or a 7.5, but there’s no such thing as a size 7.5, so I digress.

This isn’t the first time this has happened with regard to the Inox needles. I had bought a size 10.5 circular 24″ needle that was, according to my Handy Needle Sizing Thing, really a size 10.

<heavy sigh>

<frog frog frog frog frog>

It’s time to cast on that Damned, Bloody, Blasted Second Sleeve again. I swapped out the double points holding the First Sleeve with the Offending Mis-Sized German Inoxes – now relegated to duty as Mere Stitch Holders. Ha! — and am ready to start anew.

Well, start anew after I finish my morning coffee, that is.

This was a recent entry on icanhascheezburger.com

 

Tomorrow I shall regale you with a Cautionary Tale of Knitting, Gauge, European-Made Coated Needles, and Frogging Nine Inches of a Sweater Sleeve.

Or maybe I’ll crawl under the bedclothes and pretend it was all a bad dream.

I have determined that it is, indeed, possible to get a hangover from overindulging in books.

The Husband and I came home from our Saturday shopping to find an amazon.com box on our doorstep with Books Six and Seven of the Harry Potter series, and I vanished for the rest of the weekend, finishing Book Seven around 12:30 a.m. on Sunday night. I’m estimating 1,500 pages in less than two days.

I think I hurt myself.

I’m in the process of re-reading Book Five at the moment, and I will then go through Books Six and Seven again. Since I flew through them at the speed of sound, I’m certain I missed many details. Plot, for instance.

A few (spoiler-free) observations:

• The Harry Potter fans — the ones I know both on the Internet and in Real Life — have been fabulous. Several people commented how they wished they could be reading the books again for the first time since they remembered how exciting it all was. They never talked about spoilers, and if they were posting online, they gave ample warning they were about to do so, like STOP READING NOW. Part of their fun in sharing the story with me was watching as the plot revealed itself and I put the pieces together or speculated on the fates of certain characters. I know I amused one of my co-workers no end with my hypotheses on Dumbledore and Snape.
  
• My favorite Hogwart’s student was Neville Longbottom. Even though I hate to say this (because it’s such a trite expression), he definitely “grew” the most during the course of the seven books. In terms of my least favorite, I would have to say Pansy Parkinson in Slytherin House, mainly because she seemed more like a cardboard cutout than a real character to me. I mean, we were offered little glimpses of the personality or family life of other minor characters (Lee Jordan, Seamus, Dean), but we only saw Pansy laughing maliciously at other students.
  
• I haven’t quite figured out Snape yet. I knew by Book Four that there was more to him than meets the eye, and I was surprised by the revelations in Book Seven about him as a young boy, but there are still missing pieces. I’m sure those missing pieces are all in the text; that’s just what happens when I read so quickly. I’m thinking he would qualify as my favorite Hogwart’s professor. McGonagall and Hagrid were cool in their own way, but Snape had a certain je ne sais qua.
  

• Ravenclaw needed a better representative than Luna Lovegood. It’s not that Luna was a bad example; I just don’t recall seeing a Ravenclaw student that exemplified their House’s emphasis on intellect. I was always sorted into Ravenclaw in the umpteen online quizes/memes I took.

The sorting hat says that I belong in Ravenclaw!



Said Ravenclaw, “We’ll teach those whose intelligence is surest.”

Ravenclaw students tend to be clever, witty, intelligent, and knowledgeable.
Notable residents include Cho Chang and Padma Patil (objects of Harry and Ron’s affections), and Luna Lovegood (daughter of The Quibbler magazine’s editor).

Take the most scientific Harry Potter
Quiz ever created.

 

Hogwarts Sorting Hat: Based on Myers-Briggs Personality Typing

 

You are a RAVENCLAW!As a Ravenclaw and as an NTP, you are intellectual, independent, and value excellence in yourself and in those around you. You have a strong sense of curiosity, and in general can see many aspects of a single issue or debate. You have a strong drive to acquire knowledge and set very high standards for yourself and those around you. You enjoy being challenged, and can accept constructive criticism without taking it personally. You are probably at least somewhat unconventional, and will not usually follow authority for its own sake; instead, you will consider the issue at hand and make a decision for yourself.
Take this quiz!

Quizilla |
Join

In any event, it’s almost Caturday here, so that means you lucky folks get a Friday LOLCat. I’ve had this one for quite a while, but never had a reason to post it. It’s one of my all-time favorites.

Have a splendiferous Friday, cats and kittens.

I have so many LOLcats saved on my hard drive, it’s time to start sharing them on a regular basis. Most of them are from “I Can Has Cheezburger,” like this one:

Happy Furday, cats and kittens. Enjoy your weekend. I hope to have some knitting news and pictures up here soon.

I will admit, despite my earlier reservations and protestations to the contrary, that I am enjoying the Harry Potter series. “Enjoying” may be too tepid of an adjective here. Since I began the first book a few weeks ago, I will confess to:

• Pre-ordering the collectors’ edition complete boxed set of hardcovers from amazon.com (for delivery in October).
• Borrowing Book Two since I couldn’t wait until October to continue reading the series.
• Ordering copies of Books Three and Four since I couldn’t wait until October to continue reading the series.
• Re-reading Books One and Two since I flew through them on my first pass.
• After finishing Book 3, realizing that I did not, in fact, have Book Four in my possession (but that I did have Book 5, oddly enough), and then ordering Book Four for overnight delivery to my office since I couldn’t wait until October to continue reading the series.
• Staying up to all hours of the morning to finish reading the books I did have in my possession. I think I was up until 2:30 a.m. reading Book 3, and on a School Night, too! I was only up until 1:00 a.m. last night polishing off Book 5. There was no way on God’s Green Earth that I was going to go to sleep without reading the denouement after the wizard battle between Dumbledore and You-Know-Who. Nope. Nosirree.
• Cancelling the order from amazon.com for the complete set since I figured out I would have copies of all the books (and a duplicate or two) long before the set was shipped to me, then ordering copies of books Two, Six, and Seven, and no, I don’t want the shipment delayed by Super Saver Shipping, thankyouverymuch.

Needless to say, I think I’ve blown my book budget for August and September.

One of my co-workers, somewhere near the start of all this, asked me when it was that I knew I had changed my mind about reading Harry Potter. It was right around this passage, from the first book, somewhere around page 22:

Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she’d ever owned….

Harry knew that he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn’t easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws and Tufty again.

I think it was then that I noticed and began to appreciate the wry sense of humor in these books.

Despite my bachelor’s degree in English, I find it difficult to describe why it is that I prefer some writers, and why it is that I dismiss some books and laud others. It all comes down to how well I am drawn into the story. If a book makes it possible for me to sit on my living room couch, with cat and fleece throw and bottle of soda water, and read for hours without noticing the world around me, then I consider it a good book. Similarly, if I can go to a movie and forget I’m at the movie theater (and that the popcorn is too salty and that I need to pee and why oh why did I order a large frozen Coke when I knew I was going to sitting for two hours…), then I consider it a good movie. Wholly subjective, to be sure, but I’m sticking with it.

 

Nothing of any great moment has been going on with me. That, when combined with end-of-summer ennui, has led to the dearth of blog posts.

Not that I’m complaining. I enjoy a drama-free life; it just doesn’t generate much writing material.

I should be honest. It’s not “end-of-summer ennui.” It’s My-God-When-Will-This-End-Can-I-Come-Out-of-My-Cave-Now depression. I’m slogging through the last 100 yards of a mile-long race. Assuming I’m addressing a “normal” person — by which I mean “average” — it’s akin to how you feel in February. Spring is coming. Hope is around the corner. It’s almost, almost, almost here. Just Not Yet. Oh, and here’s another 12 inches of snow. Enjoy.

I’ll dig out from under soon, don’t fret. I have to write about knitting. I have to write about Harry Potter. Just right at this moment I need My Cave and a carton of Butterfinger ice cream.

Oh, and yarn.