Give a small inch, Take a MILE.
So, I was punished for my indiscretion. Everyone knows that I need no more yarn. Especially at the rate I'm knitting? (about 5 stitches per week), I have no business even going into the hallowed ground of WEBS, much less walk out with a huge bag stuffed full of yarn.
what? what was that? you want to see what I bought?
What we see is the big ass pile of yarn. I just couldn't make myself branch
out from my favorite color -blue/green-. I tried!! I really did! The cash iroha, I almost bought the purple color instead, b/c I also like purple and I can easily see how much blue/green I have in my stash by turning my neck about 5 degrees to the left. But the Boston bloggers convinced me that this color was better (they had to twist my arm, i swear!). The silky tweed was almost brown or midnight blue instead, b/c there were only 6 skeins of this lovely color... until someone (can't remember who in the broo ha ha) pointed out that there was more of this stuff in the front room.
I think hour glass with the cash iroha, and I found an elsepeth lavold pattern for the silky tweed. (the one in orange, bottom right, and on the cover).
I also bought a few skeins of silk garden, but that was shipped off to Celia posthaste. She wants to make her baby a lizard ridge blanky, and who am I to deny her access to clearanced Silk Garden?
I also enjoyed some SheepMail! I had coerced a few friends (Michelle, Jeni, Stacey...) to join the Grey's Anatomy KAL. Stacey, being such a good friend and all, sent me
I also got my Socks That Rock club yarn a week or so ago. and I LOVE IT. The first two shipments were a little bit disappointing, to tell the truth. I see that it's lovely yarn, but the colorways were... so PINK. Wanda took one skein off my hands, and I'm trying to convince myself that I like the other skein. But this skein? It was luuuuv at first sight.
After all that goodness, I was due a downfall. I was not disappointed.
Just as I was sitting here at home, gloating over my yarn purchases on Sunday, feeling oh so satisfied with my life... ring ring ring!!! The special ring tone that I have assigned to my parents (um. ok. I'll admit that my parents are the ONLY ones with a special ring tone. The one that says "if you're tired, you don't have to bother trying to find the phone because it's just your parents." I know. You don't have to say it. Bad bad daughter. It was 11am, and I decided I was too comfy on my couch (never you mind that the phone was also on the couch).
* the following "amusing to you all, but not amusing to me" parent story is dedicated to Maryse. Everyone go give that girl some encouragement (the french version of my parents, aka HER parents, are visiting her for 2 weeks).
1pm. RING RING RING RING. (sigh!)
230pm. RING RING RING RING. (sigh! eye roll. SIGH! eye roll. SIGH.)
4pm. RING RING RING RING. (Cyn's blood pressure goes up about 20 pts).
5pm. RING RING RING...
At this point, I wanted to just throw the phone out the window. But, I don't live on the 11th floor of the building anymore. I live in the basement. Throwing the phone out the window won't solve my problem, unless I happen to throw it hard enough that it ends up under the tracks of the subway. I snatched the freaking fricking fracking phone up and pushed the green button so hard, i'm not sure why my phone didn't bust right then and there. I"m sure that the grip I had on my phone wasn't anything to sneeze at either.
me: "HELLO" (with a very pissed off tone)
dad: "CynCyn-ah... where have you been all day?"
me: "I'm studying Dad."
dad: "oh, you're at the library?"
me: "no, i'm at home, but i've been studying. Which, by the way? when you call and call and call? don't do that. If I don't answer, leave a message, and I'll call you back when I have TIME. Don't keep calling and calling and calling. It's kind of... annoying."
me: "I'll call you back if you leave a message. But if you call and I don't answer it means that I AM BUSY."
dad: "oh, you're busy?"
me: "um. yeah dad. the PhD program kind of keeps me busy."
dad: "oh, is it a lot of work?"
me: (grrrrrrr, what does he think? that the PhD program is a piece of cake? shits and giggles all the time?) "um, yeah dad. there's a lot of work involved."
The rest of the convo was me telling him what I needed (my immunization records). Which they denied that they had (but I knew they had).
530pm. RING RING RING RING!!! (grrrr)
Dad: So, we found your immunization records. Why do you need them?
Me: (notice that there's no mention that I was right?) My school needs them as proof that I'm not carrying some disease around like vermin dad.
Dad: well, that's ridiculous. You were born and raised in the USA. How do they expect that you got schooled in the US if you didn't get your immunizations?
Me: Sigh. Dad, I don't know. They just need them ok? I don't make the rules. Can you just send them to me please?
Dad: Well, I see that you got the blah blah blah in 1976, and then again in..
Me: Dad? I dont' need to know the dates of every vaccine I got. I just NEED THE RECORDS.
Dad: Oh. Well, it looks like your last immunization was in 1993.
Me: Yes Dad, I know. But I don't need to know all that, I JUST NEED YOU TO SEND ME THE FORM.
Dad: Oh. Ok.
6pm. RING RING RING RING (are you fucking KIDDING ME?????)
Dad: We made a copy. We'll send you the copy. We'll keep the original form here so you don't lose it.
Me: (thinking, jesus and mary. I'm 30 yrs old. If I can't be trusted to keep track of my own shit, maybe someone should call my school and tell them I'm WAY too stupid to get a PhD. what the EFF were THEY thinking accepting me?) Dad. I have my own birth certificate, my passport, quite a few important papers that I've managed not to lose. You can send me the original forms. But if it makes YOU feel better to have the original, then fine. send me the copy.
Dad: Ok. We'll send you the copy.
Is it just me? or did the point of what I said just completely fly over his head? My Dad and I got in a rip roaring fight a couple weeks before I moved to Boston (because every girl who's picking up all her shit and leaving all her friends needs MORE stress. Didn't you know?) During THAT fun conversation, I told my dad that he doesn't listen to me. He doesn't hear what I'm saying. To which he got offended and said, what? when don't i listen to you? you're being silly.
630pm. RING RING RING RING (holy mary. someone just kill me. I might go throw MYSELF in front of the subway)
Dad: "we sent you some stuff from CA."
Dad: "we'll send the immunization records"
Me: "yes. ok"
Dad: "ok... so, have you talked to your brother?"
now. didn't you all notice that I said I was busy and that the PhD program had a lot of work to go with it? Does he really think I have time for him to call and call and call and call and call? Ok. My bad that I didn't answer the phone the first four times he called. But really.
Thank God, or whoever the powers that be, that he is back to work today. I think that my father, is the MOST annoying man alive when he's on vacation.
I know. You don't have to say it. bad bad ungrateful daughter.