Sunday, January 27, 2008
Knitting, cats, and cake
So, I spent the first two weeks of 2008 in bed with pneumonia, and the rest of the time catching up with work and the rest of the world.
But the time under the duvet wasn't entirely wasted. Even if high fever gives me the attention span of an 8-weeks old puppy I have indeed been knitting.
And I've even finished something:
Lois Young's lace tam from A Gathering of Lace. It's very pretty and very warm.
I also very nearly finished Harwood from Rowan Studio 2. And I actually cast on for it minutes after making the list of all the things I wanted to finish. Have no idea how that happened.
And I was very, very, very nearly finished when I decided to try it on (Having sewn one shoulder!). But it was a bit ... narrow in the fit. And I measured, and measured again, and then started counting, and somehow my gauge had changed from 12 st. to 15 st. per 10 cm. Same size needles, same yarn, same ... me.
Again I have no idea how it happened, but it makes a bloody big difference.
(Please note the freshly washed cat-butt)
I have not frogged it yet.
I look at it and feel very pleased with my changing the direction of the cables (because I'm such a sucker for symmetry), and with having stuck with something so long that I nearly finished it. And wonder if blocking would make up for the gauge-problem.
I doubt it.
And because a lot of cables all the time was a bit much, I started something else and sweatery from a very lovely dark red SoftWoolSilk bought in December when I felt rich.
(Please note the freshly washed cat-legs)
Much stockinette, and a lot of making-it-up-as-I-go-along.
It may turn out a mess, it may turn out brilliant. It's too early to say.
And to add to the wip-insanity I cast on for gloves yesterday, having lost or maybe just misplaced the only pair I had left. The Cabled Gloves from VK's anniversary issue.
I love VK even if they have very crappy subscription service.
Yet sometimes keeping an eye on a chart while keeping an eye on your knitting and keeping an eye on the cat, whose butt is likely to cover the chart anytime while the other end of same cat is pawing a bit too enthusiastically at the yarn, and keeping another eye on the movie you are watching is a bit much all at once.
Therefore I missed what may be a vital part of the pattern but I do not mind too much since I'm no big fan of bubbles anyway.
And so I have added a few extra projects to the list of things to finish in 2008.
The cats are now adjusting to the fact that we are no longer staying in bed all day.
And after several long mornings of complaints they have returned to getting baked on the radiator.
Oh, yes, it was my birthday this week.
And since I have two jobs, that means two cakes to bake. Which should be no big deal.
One big carrot cake baked Tuesday evening to bring to job #1 on Wednesday, there are only 10 of us there, so that was just fine.
Except that the company also bought cake. A giant marzipan-covered wonder in no lack of fondant roses and gold dust, and I couldn't help wondering if somewhere there was a medium-sized wedding of the posher sort looking for their cake.
That was a bit overwhelming. And very sweet. My carrot cake looked a little lost and misplaced next to it.
Wednesday night then meant baking for job #2. We are close to 30, meaning Very Big cake.
Very Big carrot cake, because I lack imagination and because I've developed a kick-ass recipe for one!
I mixed egg yolks and sugar and cinnamon and orange juice and oil and grated carrots in a big bowl, while humming merrily and chatting to Vincent, who was yelling at me from the overhead beam. As he likes to do when I'm in the kitchen. Don't ask me why.
And then I went to answer the phone.
And then I had to hang up rather abruptly due to loud crashing noise in kitchen and cat yelp.
But before I made it to the kitchen I met Vincent racing past me covered in lovely egg yolks and sugar and cinnamon and orange juice and oil and grated carrots.
And before I could catch him he rolled on our pretty Oriental carpet.
Then Laurenz went out into the kitchen to investigate. And walk around in egg yolks and sugar and cinnamon and orange juice and oil and carrots. And probably taste it before walking around in it a bit more. Before going back into the living room to wander across the carpet a few times, because that's the sensible thing to do, apparently, if you're a cat covered in egg yolks etc.
And so I had two very sticky cats and a sticky carpet and sticky floors - and only 6 eggs left, by the way.
All I could do was cover myself in layers of hopefully protective clothing and carry a very angry Vincent out into the shower.
And I hope I'll never have to wash him again.
Laurenz only needed his legs and face washed, and he's a bit more laissez-faire in his approach to the world.
And with all the cleaning of the cats, and the kitchen, the floors, and the carpet, I forgot to add the egg whites to the second cake-attempt. Resulting in a very moist and dense carrot cake. But there was no way all that mayhem, and the mess, and the first sticky then wet-and-grumpy cats should have been wasted.
So they would bloody well have to eat it and nod approvingly and say how delicious it is.
But luckily the boys at work think cake is cake, and cake is good.
I felt rather happy I came too late into 2008 to think of inviting guests for my birthday.
Even if I could have used an extra pair of hands when washing Vincent.
But the time under the duvet wasn't entirely wasted. Even if high fever gives me the attention span of an 8-weeks old puppy I have indeed been knitting.
And I've even finished something:
Lois Young's lace tam from A Gathering of Lace. It's very pretty and very warm.I also very nearly finished Harwood from Rowan Studio 2. And I actually cast on for it minutes after making the list of all the things I wanted to finish. Have no idea how that happened.
And I was very, very, very nearly finished when I decided to try it on (Having sewn one shoulder!). But it was a bit ... narrow in the fit. And I measured, and measured again, and then started counting, and somehow my gauge had changed from 12 st. to 15 st. per 10 cm. Same size needles, same yarn, same ... me.
Again I have no idea how it happened, but it makes a bloody big difference.
(Please note the freshly washed cat-butt)I have not frogged it yet.
I look at it and feel very pleased with my changing the direction of the cables (because I'm such a sucker for symmetry), and with having stuck with something so long that I nearly finished it. And wonder if blocking would make up for the gauge-problem.
I doubt it.
And because a lot of cables all the time was a bit much, I started something else and sweatery from a very lovely dark red SoftWoolSilk bought in December when I felt rich.
(Please note the freshly washed cat-legs)Much stockinette, and a lot of making-it-up-as-I-go-along.
It may turn out a mess, it may turn out brilliant. It's too early to say.
And to add to the wip-insanity I cast on for gloves yesterday, having lost or maybe just misplaced the only pair I had left. The Cabled Gloves from VK's anniversary issue.
I love VK even if they have very crappy subscription service.
Yet sometimes keeping an eye on a chart while keeping an eye on your knitting and keeping an eye on the cat, whose butt is likely to cover the chart anytime while the other end of same cat is pawing a bit too enthusiastically at the yarn, and keeping another eye on the movie you are watching is a bit much all at once.
Therefore I missed what may be a vital part of the pattern but I do not mind too much since I'm no big fan of bubbles anyway.
And so I have added a few extra projects to the list of things to finish in 2008.
The cats are now adjusting to the fact that we are no longer staying in bed all day.
And after several long mornings of complaints they have returned to getting baked on the radiator.
Oh, yes, it was my birthday this week.
And since I have two jobs, that means two cakes to bake. Which should be no big deal.
One big carrot cake baked Tuesday evening to bring to job #1 on Wednesday, there are only 10 of us there, so that was just fine.
Except that the company also bought cake. A giant marzipan-covered wonder in no lack of fondant roses and gold dust, and I couldn't help wondering if somewhere there was a medium-sized wedding of the posher sort looking for their cake.
That was a bit overwhelming. And very sweet. My carrot cake looked a little lost and misplaced next to it.
Wednesday night then meant baking for job #2. We are close to 30, meaning Very Big cake.
Very Big carrot cake, because I lack imagination and because I've developed a kick-ass recipe for one!
I mixed egg yolks and sugar and cinnamon and orange juice and oil and grated carrots in a big bowl, while humming merrily and chatting to Vincent, who was yelling at me from the overhead beam. As he likes to do when I'm in the kitchen. Don't ask me why.
And then I went to answer the phone.
And then I had to hang up rather abruptly due to loud crashing noise in kitchen and cat yelp.
But before I made it to the kitchen I met Vincent racing past me covered in lovely egg yolks and sugar and cinnamon and orange juice and oil and grated carrots.
And before I could catch him he rolled on our pretty Oriental carpet.
Then Laurenz went out into the kitchen to investigate. And walk around in egg yolks and sugar and cinnamon and orange juice and oil and carrots. And probably taste it before walking around in it a bit more. Before going back into the living room to wander across the carpet a few times, because that's the sensible thing to do, apparently, if you're a cat covered in egg yolks etc.
And so I had two very sticky cats and a sticky carpet and sticky floors - and only 6 eggs left, by the way.
All I could do was cover myself in layers of hopefully protective clothing and carry a very angry Vincent out into the shower.
And I hope I'll never have to wash him again.
Laurenz only needed his legs and face washed, and he's a bit more laissez-faire in his approach to the world.
And with all the cleaning of the cats, and the kitchen, the floors, and the carpet, I forgot to add the egg whites to the second cake-attempt. Resulting in a very moist and dense carrot cake. But there was no way all that mayhem, and the mess, and the first sticky then wet-and-grumpy cats should have been wasted.
So they would bloody well have to eat it and nod approvingly and say how delicious it is.
But luckily the boys at work think cake is cake, and cake is good.
I felt rather happy I came too late into 2008 to think of inviting guests for my birthday.
Even if I could have used an extra pair of hands when washing Vincent.
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
First day of a brand new year!
So the first day of 2008 is a bit grey and wet.
But for once I didn't wake up to the new year with a hangover and champagne breath.
New Year's Eve was spent in bed with pneumonia - and the cats.
Quite cozy in its own way, and it seems the entire neighbourhood shot their fireworks across our roof and my bedroom skylights.
And the cats did not bat an eyelid in spite of the noise and general mayhem outside. I was very proud of them, remembering too well my big red cat, Oscar, who hid in the farthest corner of the wardrobe most of the fireworks season.
And so I've had time to make big plans for 2008:
I will finish the Elfin Bride. I'm so very nearly there.
I will finish Elizabeth I. It's almost done.
I will knit the second Spiral Boot sock and give them to Katharina as planned, even if I’d rather keep them myself.
I will finish the City Coat even if it is hard work. It will be worth it!
I will finish the Saturday in the Park dress from Fitted Knits, even if it’s boring. It should be worth it.
I will finish the Hex coat, even if I’m mildly bored with it and the yarn seems a bit odd at times.
I will finish the Fitted Jacket-gone-tunic. I have a major crush on it and it’s very addictive knitting. I just have to read up on the dominating-yarn-thing.
I will finish the Cashmere lace blouse. It would be perfect for spring….
I will accept and embrace the fact that I suffer from a bad case of castonitis. That is not very likely to change. But I could of course try to control it a bit.
Once done with the WIPs I will knit the Knitted Robe of Insanity! I will!
And I will knit more socks.
I will take better care of my skin. By the end of January I’ll be closer to 40 than to 30 and so the days of going to bed without using cleanser and cream etc. are officially over. No matter how tired or drunk I am. I swear!
I will take very good care of my pancreas!
And remember to appreciate the fact that my inner bits and pieces are actually functioning perfectly again. And not cease to be amazed by the complex mostly-silent ever-busy wonder that is the human body.
I will spend less time online and more time outside.
I will read more for entertainment without reading less for education - meaning more fiction but not less non-fiction, just more pleasure reading.
I will be better at taking credit for my work. And learn to toot my own horn a bit.
I will learn to recognize flirting when I meet it.
I will try to work less.
And play more.
I will knit sweaters for the cats. Even if they’ll absolutely hate me for it.
And I will get my bachelor’s degree this summer! That one is certain.
But for once I didn't wake up to the new year with a hangover and champagne breath.
New Year's Eve was spent in bed with pneumonia - and the cats.
Quite cozy in its own way, and it seems the entire neighbourhood shot their fireworks across our roof and my bedroom skylights.
And the cats did not bat an eyelid in spite of the noise and general mayhem outside. I was very proud of them, remembering too well my big red cat, Oscar, who hid in the farthest corner of the wardrobe most of the fireworks season.
And so I've had time to make big plans for 2008:
I will finish the Elfin Bride. I'm so very nearly there.
I will finish Elizabeth I. It's almost done.
I will knit the second Spiral Boot sock and give them to Katharina as planned, even if I’d rather keep them myself.
I will finish the City Coat even if it is hard work. It will be worth it!
I will finish the Saturday in the Park dress from Fitted Knits, even if it’s boring. It should be worth it.
I will finish the Hex coat, even if I’m mildly bored with it and the yarn seems a bit odd at times.
I will finish the Fitted Jacket-gone-tunic. I have a major crush on it and it’s very addictive knitting. I just have to read up on the dominating-yarn-thing.
I will finish the Cashmere lace blouse. It would be perfect for spring….
I will accept and embrace the fact that I suffer from a bad case of castonitis. That is not very likely to change. But I could of course try to control it a bit.
Once done with the WIPs I will knit the Knitted Robe of Insanity! I will!
And I will knit more socks.
I will take better care of my skin. By the end of January I’ll be closer to 40 than to 30 and so the days of going to bed without using cleanser and cream etc. are officially over. No matter how tired or drunk I am. I swear!
I will take very good care of my pancreas!
And remember to appreciate the fact that my inner bits and pieces are actually functioning perfectly again. And not cease to be amazed by the complex mostly-silent ever-busy wonder that is the human body.
I will spend less time online and more time outside.
I will read more for entertainment without reading less for education - meaning more fiction but not less non-fiction, just more pleasure reading.
I will be better at taking credit for my work. And learn to toot my own horn a bit.
I will learn to recognize flirting when I meet it.
I will try to work less.
And play more.
I will knit sweaters for the cats. Even if they’ll absolutely hate me for it.
And I will get my bachelor’s degree this summer! That one is certain.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Bah, humbug
I do think Christmas sucks.
I try to enjoy it, enjoy the lights and decorations.
And it's easy to enjoy the fairy lights in the darkness of December.
But I don't know if I'll ever find any true joy in Christmas again.
I've practiced for ten years now, and it has become easier, but not easy.
I miss having a family.
I miss my mother.
On Christmas eve even more.
And seeing and hearing my neighbours leaving to go see their families, or welcoming them, the excitement of the kids, the lights on the Christmas trees.... does make it hard to feel thrilled about staying at home with the cats and a dressed up ivy.
I thought I was OK with Christmas, and with being alone, and that I didn't really care. Anymore.
The past years I've been working Christmas eve, and the years before I earned enough to be able to flee to Venice - or Nijmegen.
And it is easier that way.
Much easier than sitting at home alone pretending it's not much different from any other night, and that it doesn't really matter anyway.
I dread going back to work and the obligatory questions "did you have a nice Christmas?" and "did you get any nice presents?".
Especially since the truthful answer would be "I've rarely felt more alone" and "I didn't get any" respectively, and I have to find a nice, neutral answer instead.
But I really want to be able to enjoy Christmas, with myself and the cats and whichever potted plant I choose to decorate.
I just have to figure out how.
I don't want to become another Ebenezer Scrooge.
That would be too bloody sad.
I try to enjoy it, enjoy the lights and decorations.
And it's easy to enjoy the fairy lights in the darkness of December.
But I don't know if I'll ever find any true joy in Christmas again.
I've practiced for ten years now, and it has become easier, but not easy.
I miss having a family.
I miss my mother.
On Christmas eve even more.
And seeing and hearing my neighbours leaving to go see their families, or welcoming them, the excitement of the kids, the lights on the Christmas trees.... does make it hard to feel thrilled about staying at home with the cats and a dressed up ivy.
I thought I was OK with Christmas, and with being alone, and that I didn't really care. Anymore.
The past years I've been working Christmas eve, and the years before I earned enough to be able to flee to Venice - or Nijmegen.
And it is easier that way.
Much easier than sitting at home alone pretending it's not much different from any other night, and that it doesn't really matter anyway.
I dread going back to work and the obligatory questions "did you have a nice Christmas?" and "did you get any nice presents?".
Especially since the truthful answer would be "I've rarely felt more alone" and "I didn't get any" respectively, and I have to find a nice, neutral answer instead.
But I really want to be able to enjoy Christmas, with myself and the cats and whichever potted plant I choose to decorate.
I just have to figure out how.
I don't want to become another Ebenezer Scrooge.
That would be too bloody sad.
I don't have "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire...."
But I do have nutty cats keeping toasty on top of the radiator.
Even if they tell me to sod off and knit something.
Even if they tell me to sod off and knit something.
Monday, December 24, 2007
White Christmas - and dressing up Ivy
I think this is the closest we'll get to a white Christmas this year.
A very misty morning.
It was much mistier a little while ago...
And for a while I wanted a Christmas tree.
Then I decided against it.
Then I wanted a Christmas tree if only to amuse and entertain the cats.
Then I looked at Christmas trees and they were either too big or too small or too ugly - and generally just too expensive.
So I decided against it. Again.
Then I wanted a Christmas tree again.
This morning. Much too late.
For anything but a dressed up Ivy.
But the cats do seem quite content with it - if not wildly entertained.
And no matter what I do my stupid old camera just doesn't cope well with the odd light of a misty Christmas morning.
A very misty morning.
It was much mistier a little while ago...
And for a while I wanted a Christmas tree.
Then I decided against it.
Then I wanted a Christmas tree if only to amuse and entertain the cats.
Then I looked at Christmas trees and they were either too big or too small or too ugly - and generally just too expensive.
So I decided against it. Again.
Then I wanted a Christmas tree again.
This morning. Much too late.
For anything but a dressed up Ivy.
But the cats do seem quite content with it - if not wildly entertained.
And no matter what I do my stupid old camera just doesn't cope well with the odd light of a misty Christmas morning.Sunday, December 16, 2007
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Laurenz and his big butt - and the fetchings
I wanted to wrap up the fetchings for Katrine, so that I can deliver them tonight.
But this is what I found.
Laurenz seems rather intent they get to smell like cat butt.
I know he's not a huge fan of Katrine, but this is taking his dislike a bit too far.
Or maybe he just likes the feel of alpaca and silk against his nether regions.
But this is what I found.
Laurenz seems rather intent they get to smell like cat butt.
I know he's not a huge fan of Katrine, but this is taking his dislike a bit too far.
Or maybe he just likes the feel of alpaca and silk against his nether regions.
Hey, I've actually been knitting
I have finished knitted objects to show!
A pair of fetching fingerless gloves for Katrine, using the softest, most luscious blend of silk and baby alpaca. I hate how much I love that yarn.
Somehow one keeps looking shorter than the other in spite of same number of stitches and rows, same yarn and same needles. But I don't really care too much.
It just adds to the lovely and unique handknitted softness.
I hope she'll appreciate that.
And to add to the long list of WIPs I have started knitting the Vali dress from Rowan Studio 2. I came across the pattern and fell head over heels in love with it.
And they have a finished version on show at my not-so-local-but-favourite yarn store, and it's even more beautiful in person.
Having worked my way through the first 10 cm I feel somewhat confident that the dress will be finished some time this decade.
And I'm using sock yarn. I have a severe crush on Filcolana Arwetta, a soft and lovely superwash merino sock yarn. And now it's dress yarn too.
I have however decided against the lace skirt after a few repeats of the pattern, instead it has become a very nice lacy border matching wonderfully with the bodice stitch pattern.
I want to be able to wear it to work. At the big Investment Bank, where for some odd reason the boys are just too boyish for a lace skirt to be wearable.
Even in their thirties they appear to be still rather amazed and surprised by the fact that women have breasts, and anything hinting at transparency or giving unexpected glimpses of skin seems to disturb them.
And there will be no angelicats this year since Vincent, not so very surprisingly, ate his set of wings.
Maybe next year.
A pair of fetching fingerless gloves for Katrine, using the softest, most luscious blend of silk and baby alpaca. I hate how much I love that yarn.
Somehow one keeps looking shorter than the other in spite of same number of stitches and rows, same yarn and same needles. But I don't really care too much.
It just adds to the lovely and unique handknitted softness.
I hope she'll appreciate that.
And to add to the long list of WIPs I have started knitting the Vali dress from Rowan Studio 2. I came across the pattern and fell head over heels in love with it.
And they have a finished version on show at my not-so-local-but-favourite yarn store, and it's even more beautiful in person.
Having worked my way through the first 10 cm I feel somewhat confident that the dress will be finished some time this decade.
And I'm using sock yarn. I have a severe crush on Filcolana Arwetta, a soft and lovely superwash merino sock yarn. And now it's dress yarn too.
I have however decided against the lace skirt after a few repeats of the pattern, instead it has become a very nice lacy border matching wonderfully with the bodice stitch pattern.
I want to be able to wear it to work. At the big Investment Bank, where for some odd reason the boys are just too boyish for a lace skirt to be wearable.
Even in their thirties they appear to be still rather amazed and surprised by the fact that women have breasts, and anything hinting at transparency or giving unexpected glimpses of skin seems to disturb them.
And there will be no angelicats this year since Vincent, not so very surprisingly, ate his set of wings.
Maybe next year.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Every time tuna is served a cat might get its wings
My dance muscles were sore all weekend.
I had forgotten how a Christmas party with the Big Investment Bank meant a Christmas party with only little time off the dance floor due to a 1:5 ratio of women to men.
Which is good when you love to dance.
Not so good if you don't.
Good food, very good wines, good music. And once in while a sip of G&T.
And I managed to behave myself etc. while having Very Good Fun.
And I had no hangover on Saturday, due to lack of opportunity to drink, and only a bit of soreness in all too rarely used dance muscles. But no sore feet.
Luckily I had chosen to wear my golden dance shoes. I love those shoes.
Far, far beyond reason. Sometimes I take them out of their red shoe bag just to look at them and pet them a bit.
Dance Naturals, Art. 22, 3 1/2". I have another pair but in a slightly more sober black. Bought ages ago when I made quite a bit more money than I do now. And was mildly obsessed with Argentine tango.
I wish I could wear them every day, everywhere.
And I wish I had much more time to dance.
And today my boss at the Big Investment Bank asked if I would like to stay with them after my contract ends December 14th.
And, oh, do I want to stay!
It's a good job at a good place, surrounded by good people. (And the lunch is very, very good.)
And I feel useful. And good at what I do.
I had actually forgotten how you feel when you leave work, knowing you've done a good job, and knowing you're appreciated not just for what you do but also for who you are. We should all be allowed to feel that way every day.
And now even I have admitted that it's Christmas. The fairy lights are up again, and I've bought a poinsettia.
I like those. I think they're pretty. And I don't understand why so many people claim to hate the very sight of them.
Now the fairy lights and the red flower may be the full extent of my Christmas decorating, but at least I've done something about it this year.
And I'm not dreading Christmas as I usually do.
Even if I will not be working Christmas this year which has always been a nice easy escape.
Christmas will never be what it once was. But dreading it will not make it any better, so I may just as well enjoy it and make the best of it.
And I still try to convince the cats to wear some fun, feathery angel wings I bought for them. If only for a minute. Just to make me happy.
But they're not buying into the idea.
Not yet.
But I still have much tuna, and much patience.
I had forgotten how a Christmas party with the Big Investment Bank meant a Christmas party with only little time off the dance floor due to a 1:5 ratio of women to men.
Which is good when you love to dance.
Not so good if you don't.
Good food, very good wines, good music. And once in while a sip of G&T.
And I managed to behave myself etc. while having Very Good Fun.
And I had no hangover on Saturday, due to lack of opportunity to drink, and only a bit of soreness in all too rarely used dance muscles. But no sore feet.
Luckily I had chosen to wear my golden dance shoes. I love those shoes.
Far, far beyond reason. Sometimes I take them out of their red shoe bag just to look at them and pet them a bit.
Dance Naturals, Art. 22, 3 1/2". I have another pair but in a slightly more sober black. Bought ages ago when I made quite a bit more money than I do now. And was mildly obsessed with Argentine tango.
I wish I could wear them every day, everywhere.
And I wish I had much more time to dance.
And today my boss at the Big Investment Bank asked if I would like to stay with them after my contract ends December 14th.
And, oh, do I want to stay!
It's a good job at a good place, surrounded by good people. (And the lunch is very, very good.)
And I feel useful. And good at what I do.
I had actually forgotten how you feel when you leave work, knowing you've done a good job, and knowing you're appreciated not just for what you do but also for who you are. We should all be allowed to feel that way every day.
And now even I have admitted that it's Christmas. The fairy lights are up again, and I've bought a poinsettia.
I like those. I think they're pretty. And I don't understand why so many people claim to hate the very sight of them.
Now the fairy lights and the red flower may be the full extent of my Christmas decorating, but at least I've done something about it this year.
And I'm not dreading Christmas as I usually do.
Even if I will not be working Christmas this year which has always been a nice easy escape.
Christmas will never be what it once was. But dreading it will not make it any better, so I may just as well enjoy it and make the best of it.
And I still try to convince the cats to wear some fun, feathery angel wings I bought for them. If only for a minute. Just to make me happy.
But they're not buying into the idea.
Not yet.
But I still have much tuna, and much patience.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
That was it
I'm never going back to the Crappy Call Center.
And the weekend is mine. All mine.
Christmas party tomorrow.
There is only one thing I'll miss about the Crappy Call Center and about working Sundays:
Every Sunday a beautiful elderly lady would be waiting at the busstop outside work, and I will for some odd reason miss saying goodmorning to her, and I will miss her smile and her goodmorning in return.
It was as if that very brief but repeated exchange of a smile and a single word was a secret we shared.
And I wonder if she will wonder where I am.
And the weekend is mine. All mine.
Christmas party tomorrow.
There is only one thing I'll miss about the Crappy Call Center and about working Sundays:
Every Sunday a beautiful elderly lady would be waiting at the busstop outside work, and I will for some odd reason miss saying goodmorning to her, and I will miss her smile and her goodmorning in return.
It was as if that very brief but repeated exchange of a smile and a single word was a secret we shared.
And I wonder if she will wonder where I am.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Worth waiting for
I went to the library after work.
And they finally had four books I've been waiting for for ever.
Or at least since April in the case of Victorian Lace Today.
The others have been a mere few months to arrive from other libraries.
And once again I had to explain that no, it is no mistake, yes, it is possible for one person to have a keen interest in both cognitive neuroscience AND lace knitting.
The new young man at the library is terribly adorable, though.
I'm deeply grateful to whomever chose to give him the job.
He's sweet.
And I had to go back to him no less than three times to have the books checked as the alarm kept going off when I tried to leave.
I have to get Victorian Lace Today for myself to keep. I don't think I've ever seen knitting book photography that gorgeous. Nor a layout so beautiful and "functional".
The layout of A Gathering of Lace annoys me.
It's too scattered and ... just annoying.
And I have Trimble's The Soul in the Brain. Oh, have I been waiting to get my hands on that one!
Opening line of the Introduction: "If you fear that opening your mind will cause your brain to fall out, then this book is not for you."
Big day!
And I have the monster book of monsters.... or just a bloody big book: The Cognitive Neurosciences (III). There was much happy giggling at the sight of it!
"Uh, this is better than Christmas"
It's one of the biggest books I've ever brought home from the library, and the weight of it made me skip the thought of buying milk and cat litter.
That will have to wait until the weekend.
Oh, what a wonderful weekend it will be.
Cats, books, and no work at the Crappy Call Center! Well, some cleaning is absolutely needed around here, and hopefully laundry can be done, but still.... Cats and books. And knitting.
And right now I have lovely fresh spinach and ricotta tortellini waiting to be tossed into boiling water.
And water on the verge of boiling.
And of course happy cats keeping their bellies warm on top of the radiator.
Life is good.
And they finally had four books I've been waiting for for ever.
Or at least since April in the case of Victorian Lace Today.
The others have been a mere few months to arrive from other libraries.
And once again I had to explain that no, it is no mistake, yes, it is possible for one person to have a keen interest in both cognitive neuroscience AND lace knitting.
The new young man at the library is terribly adorable, though.
I'm deeply grateful to whomever chose to give him the job.
He's sweet.
And I had to go back to him no less than three times to have the books checked as the alarm kept going off when I tried to leave.
I have to get Victorian Lace Today for myself to keep. I don't think I've ever seen knitting book photography that gorgeous. Nor a layout so beautiful and "functional".
The layout of A Gathering of Lace annoys me.
It's too scattered and ... just annoying.
And I have Trimble's The Soul in the Brain. Oh, have I been waiting to get my hands on that one!
Opening line of the Introduction: "If you fear that opening your mind will cause your brain to fall out, then this book is not for you."
Big day!
And I have the monster book of monsters.... or just a bloody big book: The Cognitive Neurosciences (III). There was much happy giggling at the sight of it!
"Uh, this is better than Christmas"
It's one of the biggest books I've ever brought home from the library, and the weight of it made me skip the thought of buying milk and cat litter.
That will have to wait until the weekend.
Oh, what a wonderful weekend it will be.
Cats, books, and no work at the Crappy Call Center! Well, some cleaning is absolutely needed around here, and hopefully laundry can be done, but still.... Cats and books. And knitting.
And right now I have lovely fresh spinach and ricotta tortellini waiting to be tossed into boiling water.
And water on the verge of boiling.
And of course happy cats keeping their bellies warm on top of the radiator.
Life is good.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Count down
In one hour I can leave the Crappy Call Center.
And then I will only have to return once - and then only for another four hours.
And I have the weekend off.
I have not had a full weekend off for as long as I can remember with any precision.
And I have a real company christmas party to go to Friday night.
Not the Crappy Call Center's travesty costing each DKK 100 (USD 20) to cover the bad food and the Bacardi Breezers at a discount, but a real Big Investment Bank Christmas party.
I've missed those.
Even if, as we all know, your main goals when it comes to company parties are to behave yourself, not to get too drunk, and absolutely not to get off with anyone.
And still have fun.
While to some extent succeeding at the three first.
I have nothing to wear of course, and little time to go shopping.
But there's always a little black dress hidden in a corner of the wardrobe.
And I have my shimmery golden, handsewn Venetian 3½" dance shoes.
And more important I have cuddly cats waiting at home.
I don't know if they cuddle more now that it's cold. But they do spend a lot more of the cuddling time under cover, if not choosing the radiator over me.
Skinny little beasts.
And then I will only have to return once - and then only for another four hours.
And I have the weekend off.
I have not had a full weekend off for as long as I can remember with any precision.
And I have a real company christmas party to go to Friday night.
Not the Crappy Call Center's travesty costing each DKK 100 (USD 20) to cover the bad food and the Bacardi Breezers at a discount, but a real Big Investment Bank Christmas party.
I've missed those.
Even if, as we all know, your main goals when it comes to company parties are to behave yourself, not to get too drunk, and absolutely not to get off with anyone.
And still have fun.
While to some extent succeeding at the three first.
I have nothing to wear of course, and little time to go shopping.
But there's always a little black dress hidden in a corner of the wardrobe.
And I have my shimmery golden, handsewn Venetian 3½" dance shoes.
And more important I have cuddly cats waiting at home.
I don't know if they cuddle more now that it's cold. But they do spend a lot more of the cuddling time under cover, if not choosing the radiator over me.
Skinny little beasts.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Bad lightning, bagged milk, and big blue eyes
This is really mostly for Linnea.
Sadly there will (most likely) not be any disco light in the laundry room.
It was just an excited, hurried not-very-good cell-phone-photo in bad lightning.
But I will get to use it.
And I still cannot wait.
They're still working on it, but I hope that come this weekend laundry can be done - not in the shower, not at the laundromat, but in the basement laundry room.
The bagged milk is ecological, and not non-fat. (I hate non-fat milk.)
And the bag works wonderfully. Surprisingly so.
I bought it because it was the only eco-milk in the store, and of course the bag itself made me laugh with wonder. And squish it. Gleefully.
It seems to close itself almost as if by magic, and the bottom is shaped so that even the last bit of milk is enough to keep it nicely upright.
(Milk never lasts long enough to go sour here.)
And the bag is made from nice environment friendly .... something chalky and some polymer-thingy. I'm sure it is explained here.
Very clever.
And since I'm easily entertained I giggle just looking at it.
And the yogurt was delicious!
This morning brought snow! It didn't last long but it was there.
But sometimes you just don't want to leave your nice and warm bed in the morning.
Not because of the weather, but because of this:
Sadly there will (most likely) not be any disco light in the laundry room.
It was just an excited, hurried not-very-good cell-phone-photo in bad lightning.
But I will get to use it.
And I still cannot wait.
They're still working on it, but I hope that come this weekend laundry can be done - not in the shower, not at the laundromat, but in the basement laundry room.
The bagged milk is ecological, and not non-fat. (I hate non-fat milk.)
And the bag works wonderfully. Surprisingly so.
I bought it because it was the only eco-milk in the store, and of course the bag itself made me laugh with wonder. And squish it. Gleefully.
It seems to close itself almost as if by magic, and the bottom is shaped so that even the last bit of milk is enough to keep it nicely upright.
(Milk never lasts long enough to go sour here.)
And the bag is made from nice environment friendly .... something chalky and some polymer-thingy. I'm sure it is explained here.
Very clever.
And since I'm easily entertained I giggle just looking at it.
And the yogurt was delicious!
This morning brought snow! It didn't last long but it was there.
But sometimes you just don't want to leave your nice and warm bed in the morning.
Not because of the weather, but because of this:
Saturday, November 24, 2007
What a difference a week makes
After months, and months, and months with laundry done in a bucket in the shower and no improvement to the hole in the ground ... this has happened during the past week:
Tiles and a drain. And hopefully a washing machine soon.
And my beautiful landlord mentioned the addition of a dryer!
I cannot wait!
Tiles and a drain. And hopefully a washing machine soon.
And my beautiful landlord mentioned the addition of a dryer!
I cannot wait!
Will November ever end?
November has been good.
I have discovered bagged milk! And bagged yogurt. And it both puzzles me and makes me laugh. And if all the entertainment provided by the packaging wasn't enough, it is very good ecological yogurt!
And I love being back with the Big Investment Bank.
I almost hate how much I love being back.
More so because it's only temporary, a small detail I seemed to miss with the first excitement.
The woman, who took over from me when I left, is ill, maybe long term - bad damage from using a computer mouse it seems.
And I'm only filling in for her.
With a contract ending mid-December.
But oh, how I want them to want to keep me anyway when she returns.
Even if that doesn't seem very likely or really necessary.
But they have noticed how their presentations are just that bit sharper and more elegant once they've been through my hands.
And I've had a chance to say clever things about communicating and using visual means and telling stories.
And so I'm a bit hopeful, but not too much, and I try to just enjoy it, while it lasts. Hoping that it will. Last.
I really enjoy my morning walk past Marmorkirken and through the yard at the Museum of Arts and Crafts.
And the late afternoon ride on the bus home through Kongens Nytorv with its glitter of Christmas fairy lights.
But twice a week I have to go straight to work at the Crappy Call Center.
Which is why I cannot wait for November to end.
Leaving home at 7:30 in the morning not to return until 22:30 at night at the earliest is not my idea of a good day.
I miss the cats. And I think they miss me too.
And I will have had a total of two days off this month, counting next Saturday.
And so I'm tired.
And I have not had time to do as much knitting or as much cat-belly-stroking as I would like.
But then the cats do have their radiator to keep them warm and cosy.
And tonight they have me too. Only too happy to scratch ears and throw toy mice.
And I have a very nice bottle of wine and a lot of double moss stitch to knit, as I really, really want Norah Gaughan's Hex Coat to keep me warm and cosy, since there's not room for me too on top of the radiator.
It doesn't look very interesting, but I'm a bit surprised how much I like knitting it. It's not very exciting but not too boring either.
Quite perfect for my tired self.
I have discovered bagged milk! And bagged yogurt. And it both puzzles me and makes me laugh. And if all the entertainment provided by the packaging wasn't enough, it is very good ecological yogurt!
And I love being back with the Big Investment Bank.
I almost hate how much I love being back.
More so because it's only temporary, a small detail I seemed to miss with the first excitement.
The woman, who took over from me when I left, is ill, maybe long term - bad damage from using a computer mouse it seems.
And I'm only filling in for her.
With a contract ending mid-December.
But oh, how I want them to want to keep me anyway when she returns.
Even if that doesn't seem very likely or really necessary.
But they have noticed how their presentations are just that bit sharper and more elegant once they've been through my hands.
And I've had a chance to say clever things about communicating and using visual means and telling stories.
And so I'm a bit hopeful, but not too much, and I try to just enjoy it, while it lasts. Hoping that it will. Last.
I really enjoy my morning walk past Marmorkirken and through the yard at the Museum of Arts and Crafts.
And the late afternoon ride on the bus home through Kongens Nytorv with its glitter of Christmas fairy lights.
But twice a week I have to go straight to work at the Crappy Call Center.
Which is why I cannot wait for November to end.
Leaving home at 7:30 in the morning not to return until 22:30 at night at the earliest is not my idea of a good day.
I miss the cats. And I think they miss me too.
And I will have had a total of two days off this month, counting next Saturday.
And so I'm tired.
And I have not had time to do as much knitting or as much cat-belly-stroking as I would like.
But then the cats do have their radiator to keep them warm and cosy.
And tonight they have me too. Only too happy to scratch ears and throw toy mice.
And I have a very nice bottle of wine and a lot of double moss stitch to knit, as I really, really want Norah Gaughan's Hex Coat to keep me warm and cosy, since there's not room for me too on top of the radiator.
It doesn't look very interesting, but I'm a bit surprised how much I like knitting it. It's not very exciting but not too boring either.
Quite perfect for my tired self.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Oh
I'm tired.
I had my first day at the Big Investment Bank from 8:30 to 16:30.
And since it's either four or five years since I left them I was surprised by the many people happy to see me back and the happy hugs.
That's a very nice thing when you tend to feel not so very unforgettable.
From there I went on to the library, which was just manageable in spite of mad rush hour traffic as I had to be at work at the Crappy Call Center at 18:00.
(Where I still am, by the way, until 22:00)
I want my cats. And a shower. And my silk pajamas. And my bed.
And while at work this evening some devious devil possessed me into buying nearly a 1000 kr. worth of yarn.
Yarn I've coveted and which is on sale.
But still a lot of money.
And a lot of lovely yarn.
A lot of lovely, lovely yarn!
But after today I think I deserve it.
And considering the rest of November.... I bloody well deserve it.
Currently I have three jobs:
Job Co, a nice two-days-a-week administrative/creative thing, which I enjoy.
Job Ab, my three-days-a-week return to Big Investment Bank, but this may be for just a month or so, I don't know yet, and don't really know if I care. It's good to be back, but I may be reminded why I left. You never know.
And finally there is Job Ad, the Crappy Call Center, which will be history come the end of November.
And so I'll be working Mondays and Wednesdays 8:30-16:30 at job Co.
Tuesdays and Thursdays at Job Ab from 8:30-16:30 followed by job Ad from 18-22.
And then Fridays at job Ab 8:30 to 16:30.
And Sundays 10 to 18 at job Ad.
So if that doesn't make the yarn much deserved, I don't know what would.
Luckily the only course I managed to follow this semester ended last week, and luckily I'm feeling much, much better.
I even think I'll dare opening a bottle of wine tomorrow evening.
That's how good I'm feeling!
But not until after voting.
Big election will take place Tuesday 13th.
But on account of my mad working hours I have decided to place my vote tomorrow after work, as it is in fact possible.
Besides I do not care much what they say, or do, or promise during the election frenzy.
It's what happens inbetween elections that matters.
I had my first day at the Big Investment Bank from 8:30 to 16:30.
And since it's either four or five years since I left them I was surprised by the many people happy to see me back and the happy hugs.
That's a very nice thing when you tend to feel not so very unforgettable.
From there I went on to the library, which was just manageable in spite of mad rush hour traffic as I had to be at work at the Crappy Call Center at 18:00.
(Where I still am, by the way, until 22:00)
I want my cats. And a shower. And my silk pajamas. And my bed.
And while at work this evening some devious devil possessed me into buying nearly a 1000 kr. worth of yarn.
Yarn I've coveted and which is on sale.
But still a lot of money.
And a lot of lovely yarn.
A lot of lovely, lovely yarn!
But after today I think I deserve it.
And considering the rest of November.... I bloody well deserve it.
Currently I have three jobs:
Job Co, a nice two-days-a-week administrative/creative thing, which I enjoy.
Job Ab, my three-days-a-week return to Big Investment Bank, but this may be for just a month or so, I don't know yet, and don't really know if I care. It's good to be back, but I may be reminded why I left. You never know.
And finally there is Job Ad, the Crappy Call Center, which will be history come the end of November.
And so I'll be working Mondays and Wednesdays 8:30-16:30 at job Co.
Tuesdays and Thursdays at Job Ab from 8:30-16:30 followed by job Ad from 18-22.
And then Fridays at job Ab 8:30 to 16:30.
And Sundays 10 to 18 at job Ad.
So if that doesn't make the yarn much deserved, I don't know what would.
Luckily the only course I managed to follow this semester ended last week, and luckily I'm feeling much, much better.
I even think I'll dare opening a bottle of wine tomorrow evening.
That's how good I'm feeling!
But not until after voting.
Big election will take place Tuesday 13th.
But on account of my mad working hours I have decided to place my vote tomorrow after work, as it is in fact possible.
Besides I do not care much what they say, or do, or promise during the election frenzy.
It's what happens inbetween elections that matters.
Sunday, November 04, 2007
The elephant in the shower
Most of the time I'm a fairly reasonable grown-up who can say clever things about semiotics and cognitive psychology and such, knows her Köchel numbers, and has a fair understanding of the workings of the financial markets.
But sometimes I'm 5 years old.
But sometimes I'm 5 years old.
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