Spooooky

(Blogger hasn't let me in to post since Friday - I've missed you all so much!)

It's Halloween? Really? Halloween as in the last day of October? As in, November starts tomorrow? Nanowrimo starts tomorrow?

Shit!

I have no idea what I'm writing about. None. I don't even have a genre. In previous years, I've always had a good idea of my plot going in, but somehow the time got away fom me this time around.

Well ... to be perfectly honest, I do have one tiny inkling. It doesn't help as far as what I'm writing about, but I do know that I want the finished product to be my application for Viable Paradise.

I've been a fan of Making Light for several years now, and the very first time I read one of Teresa's post-workshop write-ups, I knew I wanted to go someday. A year from now, Adam will be two-and-change, and I'll feel better about disappearing across the country for a week and a half. I might even let the boys tag along.

So, in the interest of finally getting around to all that stuff, I'm going to stop talking about this thing and actually apply. Which means I'm writing speculative fiction. Of course, I've really been on a mystery kick lately.

Alienspiratesninjasdragonssorcerers *gasp*
asassinsrobotsghostsandamediumwithaglasseye

Right. I'm prepared.

Week 1: Transportation

Supergirl posted this morning about Slate's eight-week carbon diet. The idea is to identify behaviors that contribute to global warming (via CO2 emissions) and find areas to reduce. I'll be keeping track of my own numbers and anyone who wants to play along; email me if you want to be added to the list.

Average carbon emissions per year, per person:
United States: 44,312
Qatar: 117,064
France: 13,668
India: 2,645
Kenya: 440


Sarah
Annual Carbon Emissions: 16,032 (equivalent to the emissions from 1.57 cars)
Week 1 Action Pledge: 1290 (0.13 cars removed from the road)

JenAtWork
Annual Carbon Emissions: 27,506 (2.69 cars)
Week 1 Action Pledge: 1,050 (0.11 cars)

ReneeAtWork
Annual Carbon Emissions: 20,077 (1.96 cars)
Week 1 Action Pledge: 1650 (0.17 cars)

Casey
Annual Carbon Emissions: 31,861 (3.12 cars)
Week 1 Action Pledge: 1050 (0.11 cars)

Stephanie
Annual Carbon Emissions: 43,917 (4.31 cars)

I think my annual numbers may be skewed; I need to redo the intake and see if I come up with the same thing again. I found the heating section of the quiz confusing, and I may have accidentally told it that I never turn the heat on.

Treyf Tuesday

Rule Number One: You always eat what Grandpa gives you, even if it means you have to choke it down and stop for a palate-cleansing something after you leave.

It's not that my grandfather is a bad cook; on the contrary, he's very good. It's just that his taste runs more toward meat and shellfish and lard and mayonaise on top of it all. People who eat such things are usually impressed.

The problem is, he enjoys making lunch for us so much, I can't bear to cast a pall over it by telling him I don't eat something he's cooked. So I smile, and eat it as quickly as I can.

Today, he served me cioppino. It was leftover from Norma's birthday dinner, and there was only enough for one, so he very proudly dished me up a bowl while he had a sandwich.

If you're into shellfish, I'm sure it was excellent, although any meal beginning with the phrase "the extra bowl is a gut-bucket" should give anyone pause. It had clams, crap, scallops, wee little shrimp, halibut, and steelhead. With some tomatoes. (Are you noticing a trend?)

Most fish are kosher. Shellfish are decidedly not. It's probably a good thing I don't follow the rules very well, since Grandpa seems incapable of cooking a meal that even nods in that direction. More pertinent, I really dislike shellfish: I'm kosher by default in that regard (though perhaps in no other, since I do love a good cheeseburger).

But, dear readers, I ate the soup. Really, it wasn't half-bad: nice and brothy, and I could pretend the chunky bits were all normal fish ... until the second bowl.

There wasn't enough for two, but Grandpa wanted me to finish off what was in the pot. You know how it is, all the chunky bits settle to the bottom - instead of a nice tomato broth with a hint of fish, I suddenly had fish'n'shrimp'n'clamshell slurry, with a garnish of Gigantic Mutant Crab Claw.

I choked down about half of my second helping, trying to avoid the shrimp, and managed a pretty convincing "Oh, this is so rich, I don't think I can finish it off." (I wasn't breaking Rule One; I had already had one bowl, and complimented him on it several times. And I even pretty much meant it.)

Can't finish the soup, fine, fine, no problem, but you should at least eat the crab.

Gah! Crab, as we all know, are clearly some sort of creepy-crawly insect that spent too much time sunbathing on Three Mile Island. On a scale of One to Nasty, they are surpassed only by lobsters, which, as we all know, come from outer space for nefarious purposes not yet revealed.

But again, I'm a good granddaughter. I inexpertly wielded my crusher-thingie, and dutifully picked out the crabmeat and slurped it down. It wasn't terrible, I suppose; at least it didn't have that overwhelming fishy odor.

But, damn, my stomach has been in knots all afternoon. You have to make these sacrifices for the sake of family harmony, I suppose.

In Which Guage Bitch-Slaps Me

&%)^%$&#@)$!!!!!

The Gryffindor Scarf has been taking forever. At first, I assumed it was because I was double-knitting it - it stands to reason that should take twice as long, right? If you've watched the movies, you know that this is a long scarf; the kids have it looped a couple times, and still the ends go to their feet. I wasn't exactly following a pattern, but I yoinked some rough measurements off the internet: 4" x 5'6", with 3" color blocks. At the end of PurlyGirls last night, I had completed the first color block. One block. Out of 22.

My friends, I have been in denial.

Let's have a look at those measurements again, shall we? It's nowhere near five-and-a-half feet yet, but maybe, just maybe, we should double-check that four inch thing. Come on, now, you can do it. Just dig around for the tape measure and approach the knitting, nice and easy...

7.5 inches across.

I've been knitting a whole extra scarf here, people!

Feck. Off with its head.

I was going to talk about how much I love this yarn, but I'm too irritated right now. Maybe once I've frogged and gotten back to place.

News Flash!

I'm nowhere near the top Google hit for "Zeitgeist," but I'm number one for "Zeitgeist Sarah." Huzzah.

That's not the important bit, though. The important bit is that I found the zombie quiz while searching.

Tony, I'm looking at you here - this is right at home on your blog.

Seen & Read: A Different Sort of FO

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie

Don't follow the link if you haven't read the book

I finished reading this over the weekend. I don't often pick up mysteries these days, but it's always a pleasure to get wrapped up in a traditional cozy. I don't generally care for the more modern, bloodbath-type mysteries; I don't see the point in reading a novel when I can get the same story on the front page of the newspaper. I prefer my novels with a bit more fiction in them, thanks.

Christie was nearly kicked out of The Detection Club over this story; her contemporaries considered it a violation of the rules of fair play between author and reader. As a modern reader, I have to say that I didn't find the twist ending nearly as twisty as the initial readers might have, which I suppose only goes to show that she was the first to employ that particular device, but far from the last. Some modern authors *cough*Shyamalan*cough* who think they're pushing the envelope as far as what their genre can do might do well to brush up on their history.

While it doesn't rock the very foundations of literature anymore, Roger Ackroyd is a lovely read, and it was a pleasure to revisit a world where even murder is civilized.

Memoirs of a Geisha

My first Netflix movie arrived, safe inside its mangled envelope. This was visually stunning, but I do suspect the story lost something in the transition from book to movie. I haven't actually read the book, but I imagine some of the glaring omissions that bothered me were fleshed out more in it.

Yes, I did violate my rule of never watching the movie until I have read the book, but I thought the odds of my getting around to the book were pretty slim - there are so many others ahead of it in line. In all honesty, I probably won't read it now; the imagery in the movie was so strong, I think it would overshadow everything.

One thing that surprised me was how very sweet the story was. I think I'm accustomed to Asian costumey spectacles (please forgive the massive generalization here) more along the lines of Raise the Red Lantern and Farewell, My Concubine, so it was nice to have something didn't leave me sobbing.

A Shout-Out to Beth

Here's to Beth, who picked up the meme gauntlet.

I spent a happy [longer time-unit than I had to spare] poking around her blog - I'm a nosy girl. You should go too. Quick, go now! I promise not to do anything terribly interesting while you're away; I am at work, after all.

P.S.: Beth wears orange and fuchsia together - what's not to love?

P.P.S.: I had to look up the spelling on "fuchsia." Am I the only one who thinks it looks very, very wrong?

P.P.P.S.: The word, not the color combo.

Can't Have Just One

It is with great pride that I introduce you to the newest addition here at Zeitgeist: my yarn stash blog.

The idea is that all of my yarn will be laid out in one place, far more orderly than it could ever possibly be in real life. The balls with a purpose will bat their wooly eyelashes at me, crying "knit me, knit me!" The balls with no purpose will look at me with tears in their eyes, asking the eternal question, "why am I here?"

Mmm... Guilt...

Go have a look, if you like. All the photos are taken, but only a few have been posted so far. Look for more in the days ahead. And no laughing at my freakishly large stash of novelty yarns; we were all young knitters once upon a time.*

---

*Except for those of you who don't knit. Freaks.

Surprised, But Not Delighted

The Knitty surprise patterns are up. I'm not thrilled.

The pattern on the socks is nice, but they wouldn't be terribly warm, and I wonder how well they would wear; It seems like the single strands in the yarn over sections would fray pretty quickly, and they might press uncomfortably into your feet when you have shoes on. Of course, I'm picky about my socks; I'll probably never be able to knit any of those pretty patterned-stitch socks, because I can't stand having anything textured on my feet.

The sweater doesn't seem very flattering; the close-up is okay, but both full-body shots make the model look very odd. I may re-evaluate once other bloggers pick it up and I can see more variants. Regardless, I don't think it's a good pattern for zaftig girls like me.

The wig? Um... yeah. I liked the pink Hallowig for it's novelty value, and as a funny way to use up ugly yarn, but this feels like it's trying to hard, especially on the heels of Hallowig making a second appearance in Craft.

What does everyone else think? Am I just cranky today?

Meme Time

1. First name? Sarah
2. Were you named after anyone? No
3. When did you last cry? Tuesday night, when Adam screamed from midnight to 2 AM.
4. Do you like your handwriting? Sure, except when it borrows the car without asking and doesn't fill the tank up
5. What is your favorite lunch meat? Smoked turkey
6. If you were another person, would you be friends with you? Oooh, meta
7. Do you have a journal? Uh, lemme think about that one...
8. Do you still have your tonsils? Nope, had 'em out when I was three, along with my adenoids
10. What is your favorite cereal? Cheerios, although these days I have to fight Adam for them
11. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? Only if I have to
12. Do you think you are strong? I've taken a few helpings of shit from the universe, and I'm still here
13. What is your favorite ice cream flavor? Mexican chocolate
14. Shoe Size? 7.5
15. Red or pink? Pink. But not 'cause I'm all girly!
16. What is your least favorite thing about yourself? I hate these questions. I remember once in high school, our health teacher asked us all to go around and say what we'd change about ourselves. Way to promote insecurity among adolescents. He was pretty much an asshole, though.
17. Who do you miss the most? Zach
18. Do you want everyone to send this back to you? Sure, post a comment if you use this
19. What color pants, shirt, and shoes are you wearing? Brown cords, green & brown sweater, and bright blue Chuck Ts.
20. Last thing you ate? 20 oz nonfat latte and a strawberry crepe. The crepe was supposed to have Nutella on it as well, but I guess I didn't say that loud enough. It was still yummy.
21. What are you listening to right now? Ziggy Stardust
22. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? I never know how to answer this sort of question, since I don't have synaesthesia.
23. Favorite smell? Dirt
24. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? Marni, although I had to call myself this morning to find my cell phone.
25. What is the first thing you notice about people to whom you are attracted? Hands
26. Do you like the person you stole this from? I've never met her in my life, but she's on my blogroll, so I suppose that counts.
27. Favorite drink? Cosmopolitan
28. Favorite sport? I'm not much into sports. I like to watch soccer, and I like to go skiing.
29. Eye color? Blue
30. Hat size? I have an average-sized noggin, but require huge hats to fit over my hair.
31. Do you wear contacts? Nope. I'm mildly near-sighted, but I never actually wear my glasses.
32. Favorite food? Fresh bread
33. Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings
35. Summer or winter? Winter
36. Hugs or kisses? Yes, please. Wait, do you mean the candy? Because I don't believe in white chocolate.
37. Favorite dessert? Sigh... my grandma's chocolate mousse cake
38. Who is most likely to respond? Julie, maybe?
39. Least likely to respond? Uh... anyone who doesn't read my blog?
40. What books are you reading? Check out the sidebar - I didn't copy'n'paste all the html for nothing, you know!
41. What's on your mouse pad? My mouse
42. What did you watch last night on TV? Not a thing. I watch House on Tuesdays, and I just signed up for Netflix, but other than that, the TV stays off. We're really trying to keep Adam from getting too interested.
43. Favorite sound? Adam's belly laugh
44. Rolling Stone or Beatles? I think you mean "The Rolling Stones." Or are you asking whether I prefer magazines to music?
45. The furthest you've been from home? Lipari, Italy
46. What's your special talent? Foot, meet mouth. Also, food, meet shirt. If you want positive talents, I'm a pretty good writer, and a reasonably smart cookie, and I'm very very good at whipping out appropriate quotes, even if no one generally appreciates it.
47. Where were you born? Portland
48. Who sent this to you? I saw it on Strange Little Mama


Good G-d, that was long! Now I remember why I don't do these things very often.

Language Acquisition

Words Adam Says

more (with sign)
hi
bye
hello
mommy
daddy
book
ball
block
milk
water
bottle
button (belly)
dog
woof
no
mine
up
down
uh-oh
door
drawer
duck
all right!

Makin' Plans

It must be the change in the weather; fall has always been energizing for me. I'm making lists, researching, and imagining. Consider this my late New Year's resolution list. (Rosh Hashanah, not the Gregorian New Year. I'm not that much of a slacker)

My student loan
I'm finally gonna open a can of whoop-ass on this thing. By April 2007, I want it dead. Damn you, expensive university education coupled with poor financial skills! Why April, you ask? Because of:

My career path
I'm pretty sure this whole management lark is just not for me. I'm starting to think that the corporate world in general is not for me. Plans are being made, foundations are being laid, and that's all I'm going to say on the subject for now. More news when the nebulous bits become certain.

Writing
I've barely written a thing since Adam was born; I'm afraid I may have forgotten how. This week's frantic blogging is in preparation for:



Yup, I'm going to post every single day during November. It will be a good way to warm up before working on:



Hey! Stop laughing! Look, the math works, people:

full time job + toddler + blogging + Nano + knitting = one month - (sleeping + eating)

I just need to figure out how to keep typing through my bathroom breaks, and I'm set.

Knitting
If I'm going to devote every spare penny to my student loan, that means no more yarn purchases. If I'm going to feed my addiction through these dark times, I'm going to have to knit down the stash. Someone hold me.

Step the first: identify and organize stash yarn. I'm thinking of stealing Jessica's brilliant idea and starting a stash blog to figure out what I have, and what I want to do with it. It's difficult to plan for stash knitting when everything is hidden away in a footlocker. Watch this space for an embarrassment of yarn.

Of course, even penny pinchers can have new yarn if they're creative about it. Last night I got a ton of yarn from Ryan for the Dulaan project. True, I can't keep anything I knit from it, but that's not really the point, is it? I still get to knit.

If you're a dedicated stalker, you may know that I also won some Dulaan yarn from Erika. No, I haven't gotten that from her yet, and it's entirely my fault. Note to self: email Erika.

Ambitious project alert! (No, not another wedding ring shawl.) I've decided to knit my way through Elizabeth Zimmerman's Knitter's Almanac next year. Since the first priject is an Aran sweater, this may be in direct conflict with my No New Yarn pledge; I'm pretty sure I don't have an entire sweater's worth of unallocated yarn in my stash.

There are a few other things running around in my head, but I'm not ready to lay them bare to the world just yet. Check back soon for Makin' Plans II: The Plannening!

Meanwhile, in the Ninth Circle

Speaking of munching on tasty brains, I just got spam from Ugolino!



So, when did they install WiFi in Hell?

Pure Fuckwittery: Tales from My Commute

Traffic has been a nightmare the past few days. My normal 30 minute commute (20 on holidays my company doesn't observe!) has been taking at least 45 minutes each way. All so I can go 12 miles.

When I'm not swearing, I have a lot of time to read people's bumper stickers.

This morning, I found myself in the lane next to a shiny new gigantic SUV sporting an "I played D&D before it was cool" sticker. The license plate was a variant on "Dragon," and the frame said "We are the knights who say Ni!" Clearly, this guy is very into his hobby.

But, an SUV? A shiny, new SUV? Shouldn't he be driving a broken-down Subaru or something? If he really is a gamer, he's probably one of those horrible power-gamers who steals the last piece of pizza and bends the rules as far as anyone will let him, and only gets invited back because otherwise there aren't enough people.

But maybe that's unfair. I mean he's probably just-- trying to merge into the three inches in front of me while my lane isn't going anywhere? The hell you do, buddy!

Having failed to get into the left lane, SUV Munchkin goes to the right lane. The right lane which is clearly labeled as ending soon, and is therefore empty of cars. He zooms away, off to force his way in front of someone more forgiving than me, someone who will think he just didn't know the lane was ending, or maybe he thought he needed to turn back there, and yes, please nearly squash me flat as you shove your fossil-fuel-guzzling behemoth back into the line of people who actually waited through all this traffic.

SUV Munchkin, there's a special place in hell for people like you.

Zombie Posts

Returning from the grave to munch on your tasty braaaaaains!

I've been futzing with my blog settings today, and a few posts that disappeared under suspicious circumstances when I first tried to publish them have returned. Scroll down for new-old knitting content, spinning content, angry Jewgirl content, and organizational woes.

(2 of 4 will show up soon; I've taken them down for further editing.)

For some reason, the blog still isn't playing nice with Bloglines, which swears up and down that I haven't updated since August. Real Simple Syndication my ass.

My Lunch with Joe

On Tuesdays, I have lunch with my grandfather. He's 92, unless he's 93. We used to go out to restaurants, but he decided that thay charge too much, and the food isn't good, and the service is lousy. He's a little cranky - did I mention he's in his nineties?

He made Grandpa's Signature Pizza today. It's the world's thinnest crust slathered in Grandpa's Meat Trifecta Sauce, with cheese, olives, and fancy-pants gourmet pepperoni. The sauce doubles as his spaghetti sauce; it's basically a few tomatoes and some mushrooms keeping company with vast amounts of pork, beef, and veal. (Yes, I'm aware that veal is baby beef, making it really more of a meat bifecta. Moo to you, too.) The only liquid part of the sauce is the grease from all that meat; the rest is pretty chunky. Not a veggie fan, my grandpa.

Those of you who know me can imagine my sheer horror at this culinary delight. Meat, meat, meat, and suspicious log-shaped meat. I think the mushrooms are tinned, too.

And yet, somehow, I can't get enough of this stuff. I look forward to it every fall. This, my friends, is some good pizza. Gooooooood. Piiiiizzaaaaaaaa. Nope, I don't get it either. I think it must be that pinch of crack he adds to the sauce.

He's so proud of himself when we have something besides sandwiches. It's really cute, but don't you dare tell him I said so. After pizza (and coffee, always coffee) we had the last two cookies from the recent batch of Super Chewy-Gooey Chocolate Chip-Raisin Nummies.

We talked about my job, what Adam's been doing, the deplorable things Bush has managed since last week, and his irritation at being surrounded by old people. Pretty much our normal topics. Then he wrapped up the rest of the pizza and a slice of pie for Matt. He seems to be afraid I'm not feeding the boy. I suppose it's something to do with hernia-surgery-recoverers' solidarity.

Coolest. Grandpa. Ever.

Cute/Not Cute

Cute Thing My Kid Does:
Holds random objects up to head, says "'Ello! 'Ello!"

Not Cute Thing My Kid Does
Grabs random object, yells "No, mine!"