So Murder and camping are not as similar as you might think

A bit of an overlap here between blog and comic, but It's 3:30 in the morning and I have yet to pack.

Anyways, I'm heading into Northern Ontario for a few days, I'll be back at the end of the week. So, basically all I had to say was:

We Own Other Team!

These are some wallets. I made them. That is all.

G's Gryffindor Scarf. Still working on it. It's due the end of September, so it's a nice leisurely knit. I'm using Bernat Satin, but not because I like it.

A Striped Toque. Worsted weight wool. It's not quite that bright in real life. My own design, I quite like it and would like more in different colours.

Cable>Satellite

It's been pretty stormy here the past few days and my satellite is wonky because of it. Luckily the power isn't off and I can still sew.
As it turns out I am reasonably handy and managed to get my machine working again, and been pumping out some wallets and fooling around with old t shirts. Only the wallets could ultimately be described as worth my time. Unfourtunately the camera has gone on vacation and won't be back for another week or so. Plan B is an older digital camera that I have but seem to be missing the USB cable for. I shall go hunting!
Why do I always managed to get more done when I don't have a way to display it?
My party is not on. I had a few friends over last night, had a bbq and watched Evil Dead II. I'm expecting similar tonight, which is fantastic in it's own right. . . I've just never had a party before . . . ever.
Oh well.
Oh and Eryn? I got your letter! *grin*

Dear Diary...

Things to Do Today

• Register for Classes (check)
• Freak out about how much my books will cost (check)
• Get my hair cut so I look less like a demented Farrah Fawcett (urgent)
• Try and remove the dog-smell from my couch (impossible?)
• Untangle the pile of yarn that is my bedroom (5 day job)
• Do Laundry so that I have clean clothes, not just underwear (check)
• Log in more hours on my overly ambitious Christmas knitting pile (check)
• Get my hands on some beer (ASAP)

Belligerent and Moody

I'm feeling slightly more psychotic than usual in the past few days, partially due to work - partially due to a potentially failed party that I was to be hosting this coming weekend. Partially because I am to register for classes tomorrow. Partially because my knitting is kicking my ass.
I finished my shift at work early today because I couldn't stand my customers. I was snappy. I ignored people. I lied about having product so that I didn't have to show it to them. I thought it best that I get out of polyester pants and onto my couch and start eating some cheese and watching cartoons. So I did.
My manager wasn't in today, or else I might have stayed through 'til the end. But my feet hurt, my patience was gone, and I was getting awfully sick of greeting incoming customers only to have them pretend not to hear me. When this happens I repeat my greeting, sometimes switching it up between a "Hi there" and a "Hello!", getting progressively louder with each repetition and moving closer and closer. Today I was especially focused in making them uncomfortable. Try and ignore that, you old cow. Don't blame it on the stereo system - I saw you react when I said "Hi" the first time. You get an A for effort though.

Ohthankgod. . .

I recalculated my younger brother's measurements. This is the first time I have ever been happy to have to rip out some of my knitting! His finished chest circumference should not 54 inches - more like 46". This should cut down onmy knitting time considerably, which is fantastic.
Also I have found a really cool celtic lettering generator for knitting and other needlepoint. I will be duplicate stitching our family motto, "Hold Fast", into the hem of the sweater, and perhaps the date (2007). Thankfully I hadn't started that yet on the monster sweater, because I, eternally rushing, had been considering it!
Most of my family left for camping today, and I've got to say I'm a little bummed I couldn't go with them. They will be back next Tuesday for my Mum's citizenship ceremony (she is finally Canadian - after almost 30 years of living here! Yay Mum!) so I may go back with them if I can figure out a way to update my webcomic while I'm gone *wink*
We shall see.

Smaug the Dragon

This is a package for a girl on Craftster. It took me way too long to get off in the post, but I hope the items will make up for my tardiness.

It was for the swap "Fairy Tale Creatures", and the girl I made this for had a partner who flaked out (aka did not send a package), so I signed up as swap angel.

I knit the dragon out of Bernat Satin, and ended up creating my own pattern becuase I couldn't find anything on the internet that suited the subject. The beads on his chest are a reference to the gems that Smaug placed in his scales to strengthen them. I used felt for the teeth/ears/tongue/wings, and painted the wings with fabric paint in both a gold and yellow. The eyes are teddy-bear eyes, I thought they looked cute.

I didn't give him legs because he was more cuddly without them, and though I made legs they didn't suit the look of him and were awkward. I crocheted the spines along his back (which took me close to 2 hours due to my crappy crocheting skills).

The Tshirt was from Michaels, and I just stenciled on a cool Celtic Dragon knot. She also likes Celtic stuff.

The Fairy stone has a tag which explains it.

I will also be including some chocolate dollars in the package, because. . .where would adragon be without treasure to guard?

I really hope that she likes it - I put a lot of work into this guy!

Hark ye Heralds. . .

I officially started my Christmas knitting this year on August 16th. I have started my oldest younger brother's sweater - a whopping 54 inch chest circumference. I'm using a worsted weight yarn - my gauge is a mere 5 sts per inch. Crazy you say? Suicidal, you say? Well. . .
I tend to agree.
I figure that I have given myself ample time though - I also have another large man pullover, an adult's small (other younger brother - who is only nine and almost as tall as I - why are all the men in my family giants?) a child's size 8 for my little sister (who would like a ski-sweater) and a secret surprise for my mum (aha! Caught you mum!). Luckily my mum's super-duper secret surprise is almost finished (I'm like a freakin' ninja over here!) and will most definately be ready by Christmas morning.
All but mummy will be receiving garments designed around Elizabeth Zimmermann's patterns and techniques. I have to admit - I'm in love. Everything she created is so inspirational. It all makes sense to me, unlike any designer or guru I have ever encountered (not that there is a surplus of knitting gurus out there - but you catch my drift!). I love her attitude towards knitting.
I have also been reading some Stephanie Pearl-McPhee as of late and though her anecdotes and observations are cute and all. . . I don't really like her work as an author. I dislike how whimsical she makes the craft out to be. Wait - let me rephrase that before I come off as stodgy and unimaginative: I dislike how she presents knitting as out of our hands. Whatever may be, will be. Yarn is a sentient being with and evil will. Knitters are slightly deranged. Look lady - my Brownsheep Worsted is not the crystaline-freakin'-entity. It's string. I will make it a hat. See? It's magic in it's own way, but I control it. There are no "knitting winds" or "yarn gods" that bless or fuck up my work. If I make a mistake that was my fault. If something turns out exactly perfect it's because I took the time to make it so. I know her attitude works for a lot of people, but it certainly doesn't with me. I'll take the good-humoured yet practical and logical EZ over that any day.
*end tiny knitting rant*
P.S. I don't know if this is updating properly. Blogger and I are not seeing eye to eye as of late.

Best. . .morning . . .EVER!

Not really.
So today I had a job interview at Goodwill. Hold your applause: I didn't get it.
I wake up an hour late to no alarm. I don't know what the hell happened, but I think I may be getting a little too good at covertly turning the radio off before my conscious mind catches my hand. So I leap out of bed - and my housecoat is in the wash. For anyone who cares to note this, I sleep in the nude. So I wrap myself in a sheet, somewhat resembling a certain jedi, and clumsily stumble upstairs. It was my responsibility to wake the kids today and get them ready, as their father was picking them up at quarter past nine. Like some sort of demented hobbit, I stagger from room to room, shaking their legs and mumbling incoherently. Realising I will have missed bus, I place a few panicked calls. My step-dad agrees to drive me on his way home with M and G and I quickly hop into the shower.
Of course there was no hot water.
Freezing and cursing the gods, I do my best to complete my morning routines. My laundry, sleeping innocently in the dryer, was not dry. I don't know why. It just wasn't.
So by this point I'm cold, damp, panicked and still host to the lines you get on your skin when you sleep on wrinkled sheets.
I try and print of my resume downstairs. My computer, the trustworthy leviathan I have come to love, crashes. I run back upstairs. I try and run a print on my Mum's PC. The printer jams. Like jams. I spend the next five minutes trying to release 3 sheets of 8.5"X11" from the unruly jaws of a silver monster.
By this time my step-dad and siblings are waiting, patiently, by the front door. I throw on shoes and lock the front door on my way out. I forgot my resume.
I don't have house keys.
Apparently my mother married a ninja. He decides he can break into a window in my house (which I stupidly left open - I never do that!) and he retrieves my resume. All is well.
I get dropped at Timmies and have a coffee, trying to calm my frazzled nerves. I have nearly half an hour before I am due at my interview. I psych myself up, and walk across the street, head held high.
Fast forward to five minutes later:
I walk back across the street with my head held low.
They don't have flexible hours in part time and you cannot request a specific schedual. Anna, the pasty thing behind the desk could only seem to say "I'm sorry but we are not able to offer you a position at this time".
Great.
In a funk and having an hour to kill before my shift at my "real" job - I bought myself a new book.
Never under-estimate the power of a good western.

Oh yeah. . .

And my dog? She's insane.

G's Knit Shrug

Yes - she's a ham.

It is from Stephanie Japel's Fitted Knits - a pattern called the two-tone shrug. I used some odds and ends I had laying around. The variegate is Decor Sandcastle and the trim is Bernat Satin in Mocha. It looks quite pretty together, I think. She loves it and seems to wear it regardless of the intense heat we have been having. I managed to whip through it - though I wasn't watching Law and Order while knitting so I couldn't tell you how long it took!
I actually started it in the hospital emergency room - waiting to get called in. M came home from camp with something like scabies. Very unpleasant. I guess it's basically mange in pets, and he spent a lot of time helping out at the Nature Hut, where they house a lot of rabbits and guinea pigs.

My Awesome Truckers Burn

I spent my day hanging out with Sciensational Sssnakes at Kempenfest yesterday. They had a tent and I was half under it for a good portion of the afternoon. Therefore only my left arm (from my shirt-sleeve down, no less) is all burned to shit. Good times.
I couldn't believe some of the stupid questions that people were asking the group. I can only imagine the doozies they must encounter on a regular basis. I remember my days at the pet shop. . . I eventually started asking customers to leave the store if they asked stupid questions. And I'm not talking about the odd "why can't I keep a goldfish in a bowl?". I had people set to buy a puppy and then ask how long they lived. And they weren't referring to the specific breed. One lady thought they lived 2-3 years. No. . . that's a hamster.
Good try though!
My hours seem to have been cut back at work. Now, as great at this is for my social life (if I were to, you know. . . . have one) I kind of need the money. I'm pretty sure my boss is pissed at me, due to me calling in sick on days I specifically asked not to be scheduled in on. I complained about her stealthily adding new shifts half-way into pay periods and not telling us. I've missed a few because I didn't know I even had them. Way to go, boss. You are the best manager ever.
Now, if you'll excuse me - I need to reference the TV guide. I think it might be possible to fill every hour block with an episode of Law and Order. I almost did it today, but I think my failure was due to my poor planning and sudden need to watch Duckman instead.
Because the best days off are the ones where you watch TV in your underpants and eat entire shrimp rings by yourself.
Seriously. Try is sometime. It's brilliant.