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And, so February 8, 2007

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Ha!

Discount the Yaddas, I now know /exactly/ what was wrong. And, luckily, it is going away now.

Though, come to think of it, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a prolonged period of black-gloom-dispair. Since about….July, I think. Hm.

Anyhow, I am stressed and over stretched, but alive! With a new phone! (that glows with red awesomeness. Thank you.) Looking forward to next week and road trips and sleepy weekends and more productivity at work!

Now, how are you?

Out.

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Yadda, Yadda February 2, 2007

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Blah, blah, hate the world.

Something something sucks, stupid stupid bothersome dull.

Blobish, amorphous, blah, blah, emo shit.

Go away, leave me alone.

Etc.

OMFG January 24, 2007

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Yay, AirTran

So, this family is on a plane. A small, crowded tube full of people who want to get to their destination just as much as this family does. Yet, the family’s two year old daughter is throwing a tantrum, kicking and screaming and crawling under seats and┬ádisturbing other passengers. Delaying the flight.

But the /airline/ is getting bitched at for asking them to leave? If they continue to enforce the ‘no screaming tantrums’ rule, I’ll be sure to book my next ticket with them. (Because I do so much air travel, you know)

People. It is /your job/ to make your toddlers calm the fuck down. Not the airlines to sit back while you try every toy, cuddle, and threat in your head to get Precious to ‘play nice’. And if the flight is delayed and your kid is under my chair and kicking me? Hell. No. Get off. You get to adapt to the situation you are in. We do not have to adapt to you. And if this means you get home later? Too bad, should have thought of that before dragging your kid on that┬áplane. You get your money back and a later flight.

I am /so tired/ of businesses bending over backwards to accommodate behavior like this. Yes, children are not adults. I do expect aberrant behavior from the knee-highs on some occasions. This is fine in parks, amusement parks, Wal-Mart, McDonalds, and any store with many small children in their commercials. This is NOT FINE in small stores, movie theaters (Unless you’re seeing Disney or Pixar or something), any sort of live show, busses, crowded areas teeming with humanity, any restaurant with tablecloths and a martini list, and airplanes. If your child decides to lose its mind in one of these places, REMOVE THEM so I don’t get an unwelcome taste of your home life. ‘Under 12’ does not mean ‘can do what the fuck it pleases and be excused for it’.

Please take note.

Praise the alleged Jesus I do not have children.

Housekeeping January 23, 2007

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Sooooooo.

I am taking a break at work! “Brianna!” you say “It is 7:22, you should not be at work!”.

Ah, but I am. Because there are heaps and heaps of files here, and every day I leave on time is a day things become worse, and worse, and so instead I am just staying here to freaking do them and perhaps order delicious Thai and eat it and listen to the corny radio station play.

At least, that is the plan!

The lovely Rock flew out again today. And already, I miss him. Blah.

In the last few weeks I have….

Gotten a raise
Reinstalled MS office twice onto my Boss’s PC
Gotten a new computer
Celebrated New Year’s in a swirly dress
Signed up for Twitter (Damn you, Travis)
Bought a sweater to replace my ‘vintage’ (read: old and ugly) jacket
Interviewed many people so as not to have this many files making a fortress around me at all times.
Flipped off the phone on numerous occasions
Looked at lofts
Collected paint chips!
Attended a wedding
Broken several nails
Decided I no longer knew what my favorite color was….I’m now leaning towards greens.

And, well, I have been busy. Not a lot to complain about, no desparate situations, but I now understand people who say they had ‘no time’. I used to scoff…no time? Right, like they can’t find five minutes in the day to do this or that.

Well.

It is hard when you have something to do every moment of the day. My living area is horribly disorganized. My hair is almost always in a ponytail. I’ve needed to buy new jeans for a month.

Have you ever noticed that it is much easier to get through the day when there is a fully stocked candy jar somewhere nearby? Nothing like a high calorie little square of chocolate and nuts to make you feel less like strangling the person on the other end of the phone. (Seriously. Who calls and, with no other information, simply states that they need status on ‘their file’. And when you ask…..which file? Have no idea. Really. Anyone?) I have also formed a little love afair with diet coke with splenda. Fizzyness, like chocolate, helps life grate less on the nerves.

At least, in my experience.

Quickstep November 27, 2006

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I love the Quickstep. I watch ballroom dancing solely for the International Standard division, because ooooh, men in tails and long swishy dresses, and then at the end is the Quickstep! And it looks like so much fun, with the running and bouncing and hopping and leg things. I would likely trip and cause some sort of catastrophic collision, especially in 4 inch heels and in a group of 20 or so, but damn I want to learn.

Um. Yeah.

Anyhow, it is 5 am and I have to work today, but as I got over 18 hours of sleep last night (!) I am not yet sleepy, so tomorrow will be…interesting. Recent comment activity reminded me that oh my goodness, I have not typed words here in some time, so I decided to do that right now. Obviously.

This is very disjointed and perhaps I am more tired than I thought?

Hm. So. Last week or so I was in New York, and that was very nice. The hotel was very nice (Even though it wasn’t the Four Seasons. Boom.) (That statement was added just to annoy Rock in a good humored way), and I got to see my sister and ride the subway and buy yarn in SoHo (my favorite neighborhood) and eat at interesting places and buy yarn at Habu and fly with a sinus infection! It was wicked awesome. Our flight was delayed at JFK due to fog, and the into Ft. Lauderdale due to a thunderstorm, and I was a Very Tired Girl when I finally got home, who also had popped ears. They sent me home early from work the next day, because I was truly a pathetic individual.

Also, for the record, pure cranberry juice is absolutely revolting. Ew, ew, ew.

Ick. I feel dull and unmotivated. Four days off should leave me feeling fresh and energized, but without the interaction I end up sitting here along researching odd things (I now know a lot about lobotomy, and am slightly more clear on the Kennedy thing, and also chromosome disorders like XXX and XXY and such! This is highly useful information!) and snacking and staring into space and knitting off and on, and feeling guilty about things I’m not doing…it’s very annoying. Of course, the solution would be to /do/ something, but…eh. Why? When there are bizarre things like lobotomy to research?

Also, why does there have to be a Christmas? I like getting stuff, but once you hit about 15, 16, you’re expected to give your fair share, so now I am worrying about buying gifts for 10 or so people and argh that is annoying. I mean, I really enjoy giving gifts, but Christmas gifts are also sort of public things. A random gift is often opened in the privacy of one’s own home and mentioned to a few people and is a nice surprise. Christmas gifts sit under the tree and have to be nicely wrapped, and then they’re announced and opened around tons of people who all know it was you who bought it and then see what it is, and then they get to mentally evaluate it later and it would really suck to be ‘Brianna who gave soandso the really weird random cheapie gift’ when everyone gets drunk somewhere else later. At least I avoided the Uncomfortable Thanksgiving Gathering this year. I don’t really ‘do’ Thanksgiving.

What Brianna Dislikes about Thanksgiving Dinners.

First of all, I don’t know anyone. Even if it’s a family dinner, chances are I know my immediate family, and the names of five or so distant relatives, and have never seen the 20 other people before in my life. This makes me very nervous. However, I am not allowed to sit quietly on my own and read or knit or something. I have to talk and entertain these random people I don’t really know, and to do otherwise is ‘very rude’. So I am stuck. No one is my age, and if they are, they already have three children they are chasing everywhere in an attempt to control the damage. People end up plunking down next to me and engaging in really mind-numbing conversations about their child’s development, someone else’s medical problems, ‘what I’m up to’, or what has been cooked. I cannot politely leave these conversations. Then there is some sort of buffet food thing, with lots of strange vegetables I don’t like (collard greens? Rutabaga. Beets.), dry turkey or ham, mashed potatoes (Bright spot! I love me some mashed potatoes), deviled eggs…this is eaten on paper plates in front of the TV. There is always football on TV. After eating, everyone’s expected to just sort of….lounge around and talk longer. By this time I am /desperate/ to sit in a room, away from people, to stop my head from buzzing.

It is Not Fun. It is Very Uncomfortable. There is never any alcohol and always lots of praying. No, no, no.

I’m sure some people’s holiday celebrations are much different, but the feeling of obligation is very tedious, as is the forced interaction.

And that is what I don’t like about Thanksgiving.

I bought some lovely pens the other day! They are super-fine nibbed pens with that nice liquidy ink, and will be fabulous at work. I found myself filling out my passport application tonight just so I could use them, and wishing I had some form of artistic ability so I could do those nifty looking minimal-line sketches that just sort of suggest and object and look really easy until you try to do it and then cannot even fool yourself that the kindergarten nature of the drawings is a ‘style’ because really, you just suck and should stop trying.

I also bought a new toothbrush. I love my toothbrush. Everyone go buy a funky looking really expensive toothbrush called the ‘Radius’. You will never go back, they are totally awesome and the huge brushing surface does an amazing job at scrubbing your teeth. I feel so much more efficient when I brush my teeth now!

I wish I had a sock knitting machine.

B out.

Spinning Babydoll Southdown October 16, 2006

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Since I seem to be getting hits on this phrase, I just thought I’d say –

Babydoll Southdown. As the name states, it’s a down breed with a fine, short, very crimpy fleece that easily loses lock structure. It is easy to wash and easy to spin, and can be worn against the skin though wools like Merino, Cormo, and Rambouillet are softer. If you’re sensitive to wool, this fleece might be a little prickly.

This wool is best carded into batts or rolags or processed roving – its short staple length makes combing difficult, though some commercial mills might offer top. Flick carding is also a little tricky with this fleece – when washed, it loses a lot of lock structure, making it difficult to keep the fleece organized, and it’s short enough to put your fingers in danger. (Also, the crimp makes what could be a 4 inch staple curl up into 2 inches after it hits the water. =) It can be spun long draw for a lofty yarn, or inchworm for a sturdier, worsted or semi-worsted yarn, though however you spin it, it will loft up. This sort of down breed is ‘uncrushable’, it actually has a three-dimensional crimp that helps with its bounce. (Spinning Wool: Beyond the Basics is an awesome resource for wool types, BTW) This fleece will never be a good candidate for a very smooth, drapey yarn, though it is excellent for blankets and socks and sweaters and when knit into ribbing is amazingly elastic. Just remember that the staple length is pretty short when you spin – anything bulky or slubby is going to be /very/ prone to pilling and will wear quickly. However, its crimp makes it easy to spin for something so short stapled.

As a down type wool, Badydoll Southdown can also be washed in the washer without further treatment. It does not felt well. Wash a swatch first, though! I have a pair of suffolk wool socks (Suffolk is another downwool breed, with a similar but not quite so nice fleece. You can often get these fleeces for free, however) that I’ve washed in the washer numerous times, and they’ve not felted down, though the stitches /are/ slightly blurred. They’ve worn very well, especially considering they were my first actual spinning ‘project’ – I’ve only now had to darn them, and have worn them for years (on carpet. Wince). I’ve even thrown them in the dryer, and they’ve not deformed or shrunk. This means it’s not a good fleece for felting projects, obviously.

These are good ‘first fleeces’, too. They won’t felt easily when you wash them, and tend to be only 2-3 lbs for a whole fleece – a much less daunting prospect than a 10 lb Romney! They are also easy to process without much equipment – even dog slickers can yeild a nice and very spinnable presentation.

Oh, India. October 16, 2006

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My favorite part of Yahoo messenger is the random IM. I actually leave the program up just for that reason – if I am online at 2 am, I know someone will IM me and entertain me, asking curious questions even if my only reply is ‘ok, ok’ and ‘what?’

This said – Men from India. What on earth?

Now, I have met many perfectly lovely people from India. Most of them are polite and well spoken, both the ones here for tourism reasons, and ones who have moved here permanently. I like Indian silk and Indian food and many other India-related things. Yay, subcontinent.

That said, someone (Does anyone from India ever stumble across this?) please tell me – what is up with your ‘male under 35’ demographic? Because these people seriously confuse me. A typical conversation consists of them saying ‘hi’ over and over until I get back to my computer and say ‘hello’ back. Then they quiz me – they require a laundry list of hobbies, a description of my family, and ‘what is ur figure?’. Then they drop the ‘do you have a boyfriend?’ question. When the answer is ‘yes’, they either get pissed off at me (W. T. F.?), or then ask me about my sexual habits. Depending on my mood, I’ll tell them it is none of their business (which tends to result in either really pushy questioning, or wounded replies), or just answer ‘yes’ a lot without giving details. Typically, they then a) ask to be my boyfriend (um….) b) tell me they love me (um….) or c) offer to fly me to India.

(I figure I’ll just add here – I am aware that the concept of ‘family’ is more central to Indian society than it is to mine, currently, and that the whole family thing is a logical question. Also, it is natural to want to know what people look like, etc. I’m more curious about the progression. The thought pattern that yeilds this apparent ‘I will IM a completely random person, ask them a few general life questions, and then see if they’ll marry me’ course of action. I mean, if I decide to ever randomly IM someone, it is about something specific that caught my attention on a profile or message board…I’m not fishing at complete random for a life partner. And this particular IM style comes to me unfailingly, over and over again, from different people in India and Pakistan.)

A few years ago when I first started getting these, I was more polite, but as the number of random ‘IMs from India’ reached the hundreds, I’m now just short and unforthcoming in the name of research. But really – does this ever work? Do young Indian men with computers seriously think this is how American women work? We’ll just decide we are in love after a ten minute conversation and hop across the pond and marry Random Indian Male without so much as an involved conversation? (Seriously. I have had professions of love from people I have only said ‘yes’ ‘no’ and ‘what?’ to. Really.)

I occasionally have a lot of time on my hands, and during these interesting ‘conversations’, I’ve formed a few half baked theories. Perhaps Indian men have gotten a very odd idea of American culture and women through various media and are truly under the impression that this is what will win us over. Or, perhaps, in India it is actually common for a guy to speak to a girl for five minutes, says he loves her, and then propose…and actually have a reasonably good chance of success. (Though, the people I have spoken to in person from India really don’t give me this impression…most tell me the whole traditional ‘arranged marriage’ thing has fallen out of favor). Or perhaps they’d never dream of actually speaking to a girl like this where they live and just act inappropriately for the hell of it.

Certainly I am devoting entirely too much time to this.

An easy solution would just be to ignore them entirely, but I enjoy being irritated and perplexed by their behavior. I tend to be a polite person, but sadly I am pretty entertained by the…weirdness, by my standards. The ones who say they love me and then are hurt and outraged that I am not immediately buying my ticket to India are my favorites. Also, the ones that suddenly turn pervy – ‘ur family? see my cock?’

Why do I never get random chatty IMs from Indian /girls/? That would be so much more fun.

Along the same lines, I also often get random IMs from Pakistan. In fact, I have one random Pakistani guy who changes his screenname so I cannot ignore him, and then spams me with random Farsi and then insists I love him and he is my boyfriend, without seeming to realize that those are not things you can declare and make so. (Yes. He is entertaining, and I am a very sad person. I know.)

Is is just that area of the world? I never get these kinds of IMs from, say, Japan, or China, or Germany, or Brazil.

And I know it is not because I am all that alluring and entertaining, seeing as these guys see…my screenname, and the word ‘ok’ over and over again.

What gives? Is there an anthropologist in the house?

Edge of your seat October 15, 2006

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I know the world at large was dying to know if my lotto ticket made me the recipient of a heartwarming news story about kind acts between strangers and winning a lot of money.

Sadly, it did not.

But I did get one number right! Yay, ’14’!

Oh, what the hell October 15, 2006

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It’s 3:30 AM and I thought I’d see if I’d gotten any interesting google hits (not really, though three hits from people searching for ‘Brianna’. Hi.)

Anyhow, I was already here, and in the interest of reducing mouseclicks (lazy girl that I am), I am typing some black marks up here for random people to decipher.

Again: Hi.

(why does this feel like one of those ‘I just started writing on the internet!’ posts? Because, really, I haven’t. Just started, that is.)

Anyhow, I am pleased to announce that weekends have meaning again, due to the 9-5 job thing I am currently doing. To many, that would be painful and death preferable, but I am enjoying the structure. Sleeping until 3 pm has /meaning/ and that meaning is ‘I freaking woke up at 8am five days in a row, I will sleep until it is no longer interesting’. I then returned some very, very overdue movies (sorry, Rock) and bought a plethora of food and food-like items, a few articles of clothing. Clothing shopping is irritating lately, because I am not a fan of the ruffle, yet all clothing designers seem to think the ruffle is the Best Thing Ever. I have worn a solid colored t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and a black belt to work for almost a month now (of course, rotating individual items), and I need some goddamn shirts to break the self-imposed monotony. Please to nix the ruffles. Thank you.

Also in the past month (just to keep the internet at large up to date on the fascinating details of my life. Or, to keep me up to date when a tragic head injury erases all memories of this time in my life and I need this wordpress thing to reconstruct my vision of my past) I have seen the victim’s advocate person twice. It was…about what I expected it to be. But I now have technical names for a lot of things! Hooray, hyper-vigilance! It’s fun to feel the constant need to watch doors! Apparently, putting exact names to forms of behavior you are trying to eliminate helps the eliminating process. So, now when I feel the need to keep the door open while taking a shower (difficult with roommates) I can say to myself ‘B, that is hyper-vigilance’. And then, I will still keep the door cracked, but be more defined about it. =p However, I am apparently ‘bouncing back a lot faster than many other people’, and there is nothing I like more than being ahead of the curve in many ways, so – yay, me! Gold star.

I made banana bread tonight. Well, very early this morning. It turned out…reasonably well, though I think it tastes odd to me because I’m using whole wheat flour. Last week I made the best loaf of bread I have ever made – Whole Foods is a mecca of interesting ingredients.

I have also acquired a lotto ticket. I don’t buy the things (depressing), though I do enjoy the scratch-off things when people give them to me, but when I was buying beer (fizzy bread water. Ick. However, it is good to have other people’s favorite things in the refrigerator) I loaned a random man a quarter. This is apparently a very shocking thing to to, because in an excess of good nature, he turned around and bought six lottery tickets, five for him, and one for me. I don’t even know where to check the numbers. Ha. In this vein, on the way home from work on Friday, some random church was handing out free soda at a stop light. I am not going to go to church, but I will gladly drink their fizzy sugar water. (It was a Dr. Pepper, for the record). Things like this keep me happy for days. I wish you could still pay tolls for the people behind you – I used to do this all the time (especially through New England, the tolly-est place on earth), but now I see signs in all the booths that this is not allowed. Which is just…odd, but oh, well.

Oddly, despite all this activity (And I can make a little seem like a lot), I feel unproductive and lumpy. My things are breaking (the computer, the car), and it’s so frustrating – the things I cannot fix are always the things that choose to break. Or, rather, I inadvertently break them and then become frustrated not only at my lack of care, but also at the things themselves for not being more sturdy, and at my lack of knowledge in the computer-and-car repair arena. Of course, instead of actually getting things fixed, I choose to complain about them on the internet. I still have four ounces of merino and alpaca to comb for a swap I signed up for, and I have started two pairs of socks and have finished neither.

Strangely, I started writing this in a lovely mood, but now I want to hit something.

So, I will stop typing.

Slithy Toves September 12, 2006

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Why is it so difficult to do things when one is depressed? See? After that sentence I merely stared into space for thirty seconds because not one recordable thought drifted through my mind. It’s like those horrible cliched scenes in Westerns where the tumbleweed scuttles across some dusty road in some abandoned town. (My mind is the road, see how clever I am with my similes?)

Today I….went to bed at 8am because lately I have a very difficult time sleeping at night. I had a few really terrible dreams, and a few merely bizarre ones, and then woke up and opened the computer. One of my favorite websites had been updated, and I think that was actually the highlight of my day. Various people got emails regarding actual employment, yet no emails were received. I rinsed some wool I’m dying for an exchange, re-washed it, and separated it into locks for combing. I then mixed a different shade and washed more fleece and stuffed it into my dye jar. This is now cooling in the kitchen. I had some ice cream. And then some chips and salsa. And then a moment of severe insecurity regarding my chin. I wallowed in patheticness for a bit before doing some spinning but not really enjoying it much.

…fascinating.

My nails are nice and pokey and long. This is one nice thing.

The silence is deafening. Sigh. I felt exactly this way roughly one month ago, and that night I got robbed, so let’s hope that doesn’t happen again, huh?

I want to find a place to ride my bike. There are trails in south Florida, but singletrack is unappealing alone (I am in constant fear of the endo) and that would also involve loading up the bike and then wasting gas driving there and back and grrr.

The major downside of being depressed is when all the ’emerging from depression’ options seem more unappealing and too difficult and far away every day, but it seems the rest of the population thinks you should simply walk out the door and get on the bicycle or join a group or do a little dance and go to sleep at night and everything will be much better! I then feel lazy and pathetic which makes me feel more depressed. It comes and goes in cycles and I know in two weeks I’ll have sort of forgotten about all this and how miserably frustrated and sad I am, but right now I just want to disappear.

Bad, bad day. Whine, whine, whine. Poor little me. etc.