SOCK IT TO ME!

Okay, I apologize for that overly enthusiastic cheesiness of this blog title... but I'm in love, with some socks...



I'm building these with some lovely Koigu. The pattern is a basic toe-up with a little twist from this shell sock pattern. I had to adjust the pattern slightly and include a minor rib to make the pattern conform to the number of stitches I had already cast on. I was going to make this sock all stockinette with a ribbed leg, but that was boring the pants off of me. I think this pattern reminds me a bit of the frilly tuxedo shirts and I'm loving it. I'm going to shoot for knee length if my hands don't wear out first.

Here is a closer shot of the pattern:


This will also be my second project entirely using continental knitting. I'd been curious about it since I heard that it was faster, but it takes some patience to allow yourself the fumbling and relearning muscle memory process involved. I forced myself to do an all purl garter scarf as the first project because that seemed the trickier of the two stitches. So far so good. I can already tell it's much faster with less motion and easier on my hands for marathon knitting sessions.

A FINISHED PROJECT!

After an almost eight-month hiatus from the needles...I finally got something started and finished. It's from Rebecca No. 29. I left off the fruity trim suggested and I haven't done the crochet edge or (gasp!) blocking yet, but I hate finishing. I road tested it the other day around friends. I pretty much have to sit up straight all the time or everyone gets to see my nipples.

Being the naughty lady that I am, I also altered the pattern to suit my own needs. I made the pieces that joined behind the neck shorter so I didn't end up with an opening down to my belly button. I made the ties longer so I could wrap them round my waist in an elegant fashion, and I cheated on the kitchener stitch and did a three needle bind off, because I'm a coward.

Next up is the sweater dress I'm 3 inches away from finishing that I meant to finish by last New Year's...

MUD WRESTLING TO SAVE YOUR MIND!

Here is some good news if you like to get dirty: I just read in Discover magazine that a bacteria, Mycobacterium vaccae, found in soil may be a way to combat depression. The article noted that many researchers have linked a rise in asthma and allergies with our cleaner lifestyles. After giving lung cancer patients injections of Mycobacterium vaccae the patients reported less nausea and greater quality of life.

Immunologists and neurologists studying this found that this bacteria raises levels of serotonin. It targeted the same neurons that Prozac does. Christopher Lowry, a neuroscientist at the University of Bristol, believes that the bacteria activates immune cells. The immune cells may then release cytokines that increase activity on the sensory nerves. In an experiment with mice, the mice injected with this bacteria also swam four minutes compared to two and a half minutes in a stress response test. Maybe happier mice survive longer, or maybe there's a deeper cause. Lowry suggests that depression may be partly an inflammatory disorder. Here is a link to the original article.

Should you ditch your prescription? Who knows. I'm not a doctor. I just like to be happy. Imagine if a doctor prescribed gardening rather than Prozac. I don't know that many Americans would trust this kind of prescription. I think people like to be able to take a pill they think will solve everything. A magic panacea. American's have been told the importance of eating healthily for years alongside advertising for various fast food chains, yet which do most of us choose on a daily basis? Pharmaceutical advertising has just as strong of a hold on the American psyche. Since it's inception many more patients are prescribing themselves based on advertising. Well, there is also evidence that a healthy diet and exercise can be that magic panacea, but I don't see the majority buying that, yet.

Jesus Christ...the propaganda!

Hello folks. I am blogging after some absence from this. My life has been wonderful madness lately. Don't worry, I'm getting to the Jesus... just give me a moment of exposition. I just finished summer school, I got a kick ass Grad Assistantship in the library at UA, and two of my poems are being published this month in the summer edition of Poesia. Now for some Jesus.

If you haven't seen this website on Jesus of the Week, you are missing some excellent entertainment. Don't get me wrong. I'm sure Jesus was a pretty cool dude. I just don't know how he (or anyone for that matter) would feel about being turned into a rubber duckie or some pencil toppers. However, many of us have been taught that Jesus saves, so a Jesus band-aid might be just the thing to cover your scrapes. I particularly enjoyed the image of Jesus checking out a lady in a classic mom bra.

What's next? Jesus tp? Hey I bet a lot of Christians might like to see images of Jesus while on the throne. I don't call myself a Christian, as the astute reader might have already gleaned from my cynical outlook, and I don't judge those that do (or I try not to), but I think that this branding of a central religious figure only serves to mock the message behind the man.

Bloggedy boo! And a myriad of random thoughts...

Okay, haven't blogged in ages. Yeah, I'm a bad girl, but who reads this shit anyway?! Well here are some exciting developments: I'm divorced! Hooray. That became official on April 18th. Note: the other party was not a bad person at all...we were just not the people for each other. He's making merry times with his own new Maid Maryanne. She seems cool and I'm very happy for him.

In other news...I'm starting a zine with my roommate Nicole. We don't have title yet, and it's going to be on a wide variety of subjects, so if you have something you would like to submit, let me know and we'll work it out. You can email me writings or suggestions to casystotyle@yahoo.com. I would love to include a variety of subjects with original and creative writings on topics like political affairs (in and out of the bedroom, heh heh heh), art, music, skating, various recreation, knitting, recipes, poetry, comedy, etc. etc. etc. Please contribute. As long as you don't suck. 'Cause I don't want to have to tell you that you do. J/k.

School is kicking my ass, but it's almost over. It's because I enjoy and employ too much use of my free time for fun activities perhaps, but that's what life is for, n'est ce pas? It's almost over, for a month anyway. And then I'm going to party. Like it's 1999. All over again.

No more car! This is a recent development. My car is kaput. That happened in MO last Sunday while visiting some fine Joplin and surrounding area folks. I'm not going to cry about it. I'm just going to ride my bike and bum rides from people when I need them. The bike storage is the biggest problem so far...I live in a shoebox with three other people, and two of us are going to be riding our bikes all the time. Yikes. We tried to put some hooks in the ceiling, but I found out the hard way that this was not the greatest thing in the world for our ceiling (or at least in that spot) when my bike came crashing down around me this morning, breaking the mounting on both the headlight and the front basket I had just purchased. Boo. I'm not really that concerned about it. We'll find a solution. In the meantime, I'm hoping for clear skies and 70ish temps. Yowza.

ELECTRONIC DEVICES, FULL OF VICES

This morning as I woke up to the vibration of my phone, I got to thinking about all the electronic devices around my bed/fort/nest. There is the phone, and my Lady-Comp, which tells me when I'm allowed to have condom free sex and still not make babies (Ladies and Gents I really hate putting those mofo hormones in my body). At the foot of the nest resides the record player that I got for 35 dollars from an old fella that Drew and I happened upon while out for blood. And record players. We went to his house to pick it up, and for a minute I thought he might club us over the heads and eat us. Who knows? Right?

Continuing on…there is a lamp, nothing special, gives me light. It lives in a bucket next to the bed. There is also a lava lamp, compliments of Andrew T. Beckham, but I don't often use it. That's equivalent to putting on the red light. Grrr. I don't need that sort of fancy atmosphere for your average am/pm j/o session with the bunny (also electronic and full of good vibes). Just some decent music on the record player. Finally, I have a vacuum at the top passenger side of the bed/nest/fort. It's not so I can clean up after guests or anything. I'm not that conscientious. It's a crucial element in the structure of the bed/nest/fort. That's all.

That's a quick tour of my electronica. You may visit if you like, but don't expect me to put on the lava lamp. I have fort tours daily at 3 pm. But there is an elementary school field trip tomorrow, so keep that in mind.

FORTS FOR ADULTS...Start a revolution!

So, as some of you may know, I "built" (aka put together out of stuff I had lying around) a fort in my bedroom. I don't really have a bed, just a nest really, and this nest seemed bare and uneventful. One fine Saturday night, before Rubnic lived here, when it was just Beardsly and me, I decided to surprise Beardsly with the fort. As soon as Rubnic came over to hang, because (duh!) they were always here anyway, I swept Nico away to the bedroom to make some mischief happen. We started putting this thing together, and meanwhile Rubentheredonethat and Beardsly are chilling in the living room. Beardsly is sweating things a bit, because he thinks I am angry with him. Rubnic came over just as we were about to get it on -- the first time they're on time in, well, ever, go figure. Well, I wasn't mad. I was instead coaxing a surprise for all of us out of my imagination. This particular night happened to be about four days or so before Beardsly left for California. Punk. But I wanted to make the time special, and what time could be more special than time spent in a fort? If you want to see pics of fun times in the fort check pics
or you can check Beardslypics. If you're logged into a myspace account that is... I'm going to put some other pics up here, but blogger wasn't cooperating, so you will just have to wait. Hmph.
So don't say I never showed you anything cool...
On another, less personal, but more professional note...I want to be an adult play therapist. Yes, this is a real job. A technique I want to use is building forts. I want to teach human beings how to be human beings and not robots. Yes, this may be quixotic idealism, but it's my quixotic idealism, so put that in your pipe and smoke it!

The Holligolightly of cats...MR. SEEDS

So he drinks all day and cats it up at night...We still love him. Tearing up shit. Shitting up shit, well, just the linoleum floor, but regardless, he's a rebellious adolescent and we don't know what to do with him.

Mr. Seeds has four vices: turkey, vodka, string, and cigarettes. We catch him stealing our booze and stealing cigarettes from the gas station down the street, and there's just no stopping him.

We find him passed out most mornings, or completely "crunk" as he calls it. Most of the time when we try out interventions we get ass-in-the-face-tail-jerk combos that are so disheartening. It's a cry for help, but we don't know how to handle him.


Here are his parents...trying desperately to try to break through to his delicate adolescent feline psyche. He's got mother issues, apparently. Maybe an Oedipus complex? I don't know.

"I'd like to hold those kids down and spray paint on them..." Yeah, not me, but one of Fayetteville's best and brightest in the local law enforcement made this comment today, as he was standing on his anti-graffiti soap box. Man, I'd like to give him a push.

Casually skating, actually being rather lazy gits about it, Rubnic (the roomies...one solid unit for those that don't know) and I were doing exercising some sweet skills like "jesus skating" and just general whoodooery, when along came two little po-po. Or maybe it's po-pi in the plural form. I'm not sure. Either way, they strolled up, arrogance in each step and came to talk to us about the graffiti "problem" at the skate park. Okay, I don't have pics right now, because I didn't have my camera on me at the time, but they will come soon. 1. Most of the graffiti is pretty tame - - nothing sexual or violent. Yes, some profanity, but what the hell. They're words people, not bullets. 2. It's artwork and it's part of the skating culture. I don't understand jamming out to Wayne Newton or skeet shooting, but I don't tell them they're a blight on society for it. 3. It's contained within the skatepark, and no where else in the park. 4. The people that would be concerned about those evil adolescents and their spray paint will not ever be at the skatepark. Ever.

Did I make these points to the cops at hand? No. I was dressed like the unibomber and didn't think that would work in my favor. Oh, rest assured, folks. Sleep well. They told us that they can remove the graffiti, completely. They have a chemical that they will spray all over the skate park, then "hose down with water" and this should remove it all. Every last scrap of paint. I did make the comment that I thought that didn't sound very safe for the environment or the people using the skatepark after this "hosing down" and Cop #1 assured me it was totally "environmentally safe." Would he put it on his skin though? Hmmm. That won't wash away. Noxious gases and savory chemicals dripping into our ground, our water, etc. Protect and serve. Protect and serve. Think about the actual people who use this park, that aren't offended by the graffiti, that will be exposed to these chemicals. Think about the plant life around the park that will suffer by pulling these chemicals into their roots. Is it really worth it?

Fool for April Fools...
Ha ha. That time of year has come and gone when mischief and mayhem are encouraged. At least until Halloween comes around again...but here are the details of the dirty tricks I played on a few close to me.

1. Trick 1: Telling my roommates I was running away to California.

Here's how that went down...
Me: (with text) "I have to go. I need to be with drew. My heart is breaking without him. I'm leaving now. I'll pay the rent. Don't worry. I'll explain later.
About an hour went by before they responded. The response came in the form of NIcole calling and saying. "What's going on?" I launched into a tearful (crying to cover the laughter, my friends...try it) diatribe about how I just needed to go. I needed to see Drew, despite work or school or anything. She was worried, but also helpful, so at that point I knew the battle was half won. She told me she could send their half of the rent to Drew's house, and she wondered if I had an idea how to get there. When she asked me where I was, I blanked and said I had to pick some things up in Joplin first. She wished me luck, and I told her that I would call her a little while later with more details. I called about 15 minutes later and told her I was just messing with her. She was relieved. She said she would have worried until she got home and saw I was there. Everyone has their tolerance limits for dirty deeds. I didn't want to push the potential tolerance of the rubnic. I only just started living with them after all. I think I'll wait for Drew to get back and we can torture them dually.

2. Trick 2: Telling my not quite ex-husband (as of next Wed. people, so not far off) that I'm pregnant.

This also began in the form of text. He is a wonderfully nice fellow, and though he knew it couldn't possibly be his baby, he still seemed supportive. Here is the transcript:
Me: I'm pregnant
Ex: Are you sure. I know thats a dumb question
Me: Yes
Ex: How far along
Me: Month and a half I think
Ex: Is it drews
Me: Yes. There was no one else
Ex: Does he know
Me: Not yet. Should I keep it? I'm scared
Ex: At the store now. Call you later
Me: Please do. I don't know what to do.
I let this one go for about 15 more minutes as well, letting the point sink home. I don't know that it's easy to get a true response out of people through text, so the follow-up had to be with a phone call. I called and reminded Travis that it was April 1st. He was like, "Seriously? So are you messing with me now, or were you messing with me then." Man. I love it when they're so far gone into the joke they don't even see the obvious answer. I am a devilish lady for sure.

3. Trick 3: Telling my mom that I'm pregnant
Ok, let's give this one a little context. So, yeah, if you've read any other blog crap of mine you might have noticed that I left my husband on Jan. 1st for another man, who in turn was leaving his wife. Hmmm. We ran away. literally, for about a week, much to the abhorrence and rejection of our friends and my family. Soooo.... even though Drew is taking some time away to get things straight in CA, having his love child (or possibly the Viking twins Bing and Bong) in my belly adds an extra zing to the joke. My mom has no problem with Drew now, of course. That only lasted for about 2 weeks, and it was really more of an issue with me leaving "Sweet Trav." Well, here goes. I wish I had the transcript...
I called my dad's cell phone, because my mom never answers hers, and ask to talk to my mom. They're in Iowa, visiting relatives. I say, "Hi Mom. I'm pregnant." The call drops out. Whoops. I call back and ask her if she heard what I said. She hadn't. I repeat myself and get something like, "Oh, my god. Caaaaaas! Seriously?" I say yes. She asks whose it is. I say Drew's. At this point I can tell she's on the point of either panicky agitation or a little bit of excitement, but not wanting to be truly evil, because I've pulled this joke before (on mother's day 2005) and she really does want grandbabies (you can only cry wolf so many times), I gave it about 30 more seconds and told her I was kidding. She was relieved, and even laughed a bit. She was outside the house, so I told her to go inside and tell everyone else that I was pregnant and turn the joke on them. I'm still waiting for an update. I bet she got the giggles.

Nipples are soooooooooooooooooo Spring 2007!

This evil bastard...yes, the one sniffing around the cone, known among friends as Mr. Seeds, aka Puppycat, Mr. Pants, Napoleon, and Bernard, has successfully tainted the kitchen floor again. He looks like such a sweet fellow, but don't be fooled. He's a shitfucktrainconductor underneath it all.

I've been procrastinating little motherfucker lately, and here I go, here I go, here I go again. Girls, what's my weakness? Sin. Okay then. Just kidding. I just wanted to put a little flow into this blog. Yeah, it hasn't really been about knitting for awhile. I kinda burned myself out over Christmas break by knitting for eight hours a day or so. I'm going to make some kind of sexy linen halter top soon. It's going to be ever so slightly see through, so we'll see how that works out bravery-wise. I really only pull that stuff off a couple of times a month, usually somewhere around day 12 in the cycle, if you know what I mean. Apparently, according to Jane magazine nipples are the it accessory for Spring 2007. It's so relieving that I don't have to rush out and buy anything. I do own some fake nipples though...more of a joke accessory.
But that was before I learned of this seasons trends. I am a natural trendsetter apparently. I sound so soho right now. Somebody slap me. I have a 15 page paper looming above my head that's due by midnight tomorrow for psychopharm. ARGH. This is so much more entertaining. And yet no one reads it. Ha. Ha.

Well, the days of Camelot may be here and gone. This has been the most trying year of my life thus far and it is still yet a baby. I have been keeping a Captain's log in a small calendar. It's been most interesting. Here are a few details for those unfamiliar with my life: On January 1st I left my husband to run away from a stagnant life (not really his fault, but we were both swimming in it). I ran with my parter in crime, Drew, as pictured learning to knit below somewhere in this blogging abyss. I was going to insert a picture of this, but this blog is so damn slow to load. Nevermind. We made a pact to each other involving freedom, honesty, and tandem bikes. What could make a more solid foundation? I don't know. We waxed quixotic about our personal ideals and how we had both stifled them for years. It was a new beginning.

As we ran we really had no place to go. We were physical and emotional nomads for a solid five days (I have this documented remember). We may still be emotional nomads, but for the time being we had to comfort each other with stock cliches like, "It's going to be alright." "Tandem bike" seemed to be a bit more thereaputic, so that became a staple. We lived in motel rooms, lost most of our friends. I lost my family for awhile. It was devastating. And so freeing. We searched for an apartment and found the best one I could imagine. It seemed like things were falling in line. But there was still much karmic debt to pay.

Freedom comes at a price. Eventually you begin to resist it. Begin to question it. Begin to resent it's ever ebbing refrains. We had our freedom, but we still needed each other so much, used each other for emotional blankets. It began to take it's toll. We took turns being the strong one. It was me at first, but then I began to grow comfortable in this role, and "the ceiling fell around me, the sky was open to me, but my hands were tied, the ropes are tied around my wrists." So, skipping over the hilarious moments, like climbing and peeing on campus buildings, taking funny illicit photos, drinking and going to the park in the middle of the night, stealing street cones, feeding record addictions, freaky salt&vinegar sex, I go straight to the climax of this story...Drew went to California. To figure shit out, etc.

But I can't really let him be the climax of the story. After all, this is my story muthas. Damn skippy. And I'm going to keep on telling it. Since he's left I have refreshed myself too. It was better for the both of us to remember how to breathe as individuals. I don't blame you, Drew. It was the best thing you could have done. I remembered all the things I liked to do (besides knitting...FOR SHAME!) and I've begun again. The phoenix has risen. I have reawakened my love for poetry and reiki, reading for pleasure (and not just the dirty birdy kind either ;)). I am reinventing myself. So fuck you guys if you don't like it! I haven't been this happy in a few reinventions of myself. But this is a good one. I have kick ass roommates, even if they are attached at the hip/lip. Here they are:

Not a great view of Ruben, but Nicole is the lady (half of the Rubnic, get it?) and she is one hell of a lady. I haven't lived with a girl (outside of fam members) for about 4 years, but it is working out splendidly. The cat is another story...That cat's something I can't explain.

Look, I've injured myself again...I sure do love bruises. I thought I broke it at first, but luckily it's just the bruise.

Drew learns to knit....he's making a scarf and goes back and forth between tight and loose tension looking for just the right one.


Knit on.