Stringer's Bell

Check it out. I think it's easier to read, but it will take some time to get used to. I'll be over there for a minimum of 30 days. Maybe longer. We'll see.

That's me. Or as Auntie Sassy would say it - I'm a dirty rotten sh*t. That last post was a total April Fool's joke - meant to freak out my roommate because every Saturday she runs past my blog to see if there's anything she's missed in my life, since we honestly hardly ever see each other. (there's just puddles of yarn, she says, where I tread through the house after she goes to work and after she goes to bed.) (You guys were so sweet (there are some exceptions to that, of course) with your nice comments.) Needless to say, she freaked out and wanted to know why I had not told HER first before the ENTIRE INTERNET because she LIVES WITH ME and PUTS UP WITH MY SHIT and...then she realized what day it was and walked off like nothing had happened. I heart my roommate. And now for some heavy stuff, before I show off my purdy socks and my adorable child and his brilliance. I've been having some pretty severe health problems lately, which are going to require several doctors' visits over the next few weeks. Nobody is really sure what is wrong with me, because the symptoms I am having all point to different things, and I cannot possibly be that sick and still walking around. SO! Point of me telling you this IS - if I disappear for a while, it's not because I've given up the blog. It's because I'm dead. No, seriously, I may have to spend some time in the ol' hospital, but I'll keep y'all in the loop (without giving any fun details) as to what the hell is going on over here. TO abruptly change the subject, and possibly give each and every one of you severe conversation whiplash, I give you the smartest and cutest child in the entire wide world, MHP. Or then again, you can just imagine how him and his rockin' science fair project look, because BLOGGER SUCKS BIGTIME AND IS NOT UPLOADING PICTURES AGAIN. THAT'S IT, I'VE HAD IT. I am going right now to check out Typepad. YOU HEAR THAT, BLOGGER DUDES? I'VE HAD IT WITH YOUR PICTURE UPLOADING PROBLEMS AND DOWNTIMES AND ALL OF THE OTHER BULLSHIT. I'm taking my toys and going home. For you to while away the time it takes for me to figure out how I can justify paying for Typepad, take a look at this picture of Pamela Anderson, and tell me you don't worry about her children. First off, I can't say anything nice about her in this picture. Her hair is kind of helter-skelter, and her face...she looks tired. (Hello, lady who lives in the glass house? I'm looking more hideous than normal these days.) But the bruises on her arm are what freak me out. Don't those look like fingers to you? Some dude grabs ME that hard, you better realize his nose is going to be relocated under his right ear and his nuts packing up camp and moving into his upper abdomen. Hells to the no.

So you know how I've been excessively cranky lately and all messed up? Well, for those of you on your computers on a weekend, you'll get the answer to why, and a special secret. TB, MHP and I (along with a chunk of family and friends who are available) are flying to Vegas on Wednesday for a wedding. My wedding. We've been planning this for a while, but I'm freaking out. Why am I freaking out? This is all very weird, and I have another secret that TB can't know until after the wedding. He doesn't know that I'm pregnant. Only a couple of weeks, but still. Me. Pregnant. Again. *sigh* Happy April 1st, everybody. The joke's on me! :)

All of the things in the title are not completed all together. Well, not the baby part at least. I don't drink in front of the young and impressionable, unless you count my brother. Who is 23. I am currently knitting my ass off (or fingers to the bone, or whatever you may choose) for an impending baby. Not mine, don't get excited. I am not pregnant. My co-worker is. Not the Twat, another one. Moving on. She's so cute and girly and pregnant that it almost makes me want to have a baby. Then I remember how I should have had my right to be pregnant revoked because I was so bad at it. I was not glowing, I was sweaty. I was not glorious and angelic and Mary-like, I was mean and nasty and zit-faced. It was awful. Of course, I got MHP out of the deal, so I'm good with the 9 months of barfing my face off and eating 2 Caesar salads a day. Oh, and the 19 pre-natal test series I had to go through because they thought MHP had Down Syndrome, because his head was so big. I tried to tell them everyone in my family has giant melon heads, but they didn't believe me. Then MHP was born, and they believed me. Dude's head was the size of a 6 month old's head, and he was super long. ANYWAY!! I'M TALKING ABOUT KNITTING! Jesus, I'm wandering away in conversations now. I need a leash for my tongue. SO! I'm knitting my ass off for said baby. The momma-to-be is into luxury things and girly bits, so it's a good thing she's having a girl. She would have been lost if it was a boy. Everything I'm knitting is out of alpaca and cashmere and silk and blends of soft things, (there's a couple of acrylic things in there that are soft, AND she can put them in the washing machine!) and almost all of them are pink. Y'all know me, (at least those of you that have stuck around for a while do...sort of) and I don't do pink. I don't wear pink, I don't really buy pink things...my main colour is black. So I'm knitting the bebe a pair of black booties with little red stars. The petite chou is getting 5 pairs of booties and 3 hats from me, so I think she's going to be covered for a while in the shoe department. I love starting shoe whores at a young age. It's fabulous. SO! I have no idea why I started writing this post, and I've had 2 Red Bulls and a Full Throttle, so I should probably stop typing now. So I will stop, but only because the stupid Blogger is not uploading pictures AGAIN, so I can't tell the story about how I saw Monkey yesterday (I'm serious, I have PHOTOGRAPHIC PROOF) or explain the fireman throwing eggs off a ladder. So y'all will have to wait one more day. :)

The Twat has declared war, so I am busy fighting the good fight. And winning :) Today has been declared National "Tell Libby Big Secrets She Has to Keep to Herself" Day. I hate when people do that to me. I have had not one, not two, but SIX people come into my office and tell me things I'm not a) supposed to know and b) supposed to tell anyone else. Lucky for them, I have a short memory :) So, in lieu of a big long entry, here are some pictures from the past 5 days of my absence from blogland:

A double rainbow (taken from the car, again...) last Friday, when the sky was literally half black and half blue

Rat City Rollergirls!!

The lady who sang the National Anthem at the bout, telling my father that he was "cheeky". (My father is a bible-thumper, yet he hearts roller derby. This is the first drag queen he's ever seen in real life up close. He almost had a heart attack.)

Here's MHP, with his fan club sitting in front of him (he had 4-5 ladies my age following him everywhere because he's so engaging) and his GO SOCKIT WENCHES pompom.

I spent my lunch break today watching this man drop eggs wrapped in various containers off a hook and ladder truck :) Story tomorrow.

More tommorow.

I'm so suffering from cabin fever right now. Well, maybe not THAT kind of Cabin Fever (I distinctly recall SEEING the movie, but not the movie istelf) but the kind that consumes your entire being and requires you to be completely irritated and nasty with everyone that comes your way, even the cute pregnant girl in your office. And this Cabin Fever may or may not require you to write nasty emails and delete them before sending. It also may or may not require you to mutter "Stupid Twat" under one's breath everytime the Twat walks by. It also may or may not cause you to hide all of the tape dispensers and staplers and things of that size/bulk to prevent yourself from throwing them at the next person that comes along. I have not left my desk in 4 hours. I cannot see outside. I want to punch someone. I really wish this giant stack of papers on my desk would burst into flame and provide some sort of entertainment for me, but NOOOOOO!!! I'm sitting here listening to the Twat argue with the cell phone people about nothing (an extra $4 in text message charges on the boss man's phone because he got bored during a meeting) and to the dude down the hall with gastro-intestinal problems issue forth a belch of earth-shaking magnitudes.... It's great. I'm fucking ecstatic that it's Friday. Someone pointed out that I neglected to post pictures of the oven mitt and Socks that Rock Club stuff I got in the mail over the weekend, and they were right. I do that sometimes. I'm slow. So to the left here, you will see a really kick-ass oven mitt that Angela over at Nashville SNB made, because I told her my embarassing Martha Stewart story. On the left of the picture, you'll see a skein of STR yarn, a bumper sticker that says "Don't come a knockin; if your socks ain't rockin", a pattern for socks (duh, I know) a button and a teensy tiny keychain skein of yarn that says "for emergency use". Thought that was cute. Anyhoo, yes, I've cast on for the socks, which means I have a grand total of 4 pairs of socks on the needles. I'm not horrendously in love with this pattern...it's OK. The colourway of the yarn is a little odd. I'm not one to put yellow and brown together on purpose, but it looks OK in this pattern. I'll have to post pictures if I get any more done this weekend. Rat City playing tomorrow - Throttle Rockets vs Sockit Wenches, and Derby Liberation Front vs Grave Danger. So that will take up most of my weekend. Hope you enjoy yours!

Here's a picture of the half-finished spider sock and my keyboard. For some reason, looking at that picture makes me a little seasick, but I can't wait to wear these socks. I love old commercials, don't you? I normally despise Lindsay Lohan and everything she does. However, the Prairie Home Companion looks cute. And it has Tommy Lee Jones, Kevin Kline and Woody Harrelson in it, and you can't beat that trio. (Unless Vin Diesel, Wentworth Miller and Jason Statham are half-naked and oiled up with cooking spray in my kitchen. Then you really don't care about Kevin Kline and them.) I was going to do a meme that Cara posted, but I'm tired and have already blogged a lot today, so I'm going to lie down and wait for this workday to be over.

I'm kinda bored today. I have stuff to do, but I really have stopped caring. I do, however, have a few random notes on life, and things that go bump in the night: 1. I love BuckCherry. I have no idea why. Their new song is about my ho-bag friend, who will remain nameless. 2. I have finished something. I was talking to Christina during our yarn crawl Saturday, and realized that I finish a whole mess of things that I don't tell y'all about. Today, the count is at 2 (actually, 1 1/2) things. I have finished a Clapotis that I started...um...like 9 months ago? And a Pomomonohouthastous sock. (I call it the hippopotamous sock because I have no idea what the actual title is.) Here are some pictures. (Look at me! I am sort of smiling instead of snarling like a rude little Irish girl! This is because I finished something!! I am, however, not wearing makeup. I look like death.) 3. I am stuck on a colour scheme for everything I am buying. It seems to be either oceanic colours, or black. This is leaking into everything, including the new Saturn. (Which is not so new, since I've had it for like 2 months, but apparently, I neglected to tell y'all I had bought a new car after the death of the Beast.) 4. I need sleeping pills. I cannot sleep at night. I wake up in a dead panic, convinced that someone is trying to break into the house. It is usually only the GODDAMNED CAT scuffling around in the bathtub. I will, one day, learn to sleep through the cat's noises. It's only been a year. 5. I just came from a meeting with the Twat and the Teletubby. I couldn't look at either of them, which made speaking with them very difficult. (For those of you who don't recall, the Teletubby is the sidekick for the VP that the Twat is temporarily supporting. He has braces, and he's 50. It makes me giggle.) However, the greatest thing of all is that Teletubby told the Twat that she needs to find more to do. He says that I'm taking on so many responsibilities that she can't handle, that they're thinking of eliminating her position altogether. :) I'm ecstatic. That just means more work for me. *sigh*

Here is MHP. At his karate test, because he wants to be the Chuck Norris when he grows up. Either that, or a rollergirl. He is the darling one on the left. Then, we have mail call. And yarn crawl bootay. I went on a yarn crawl with MHP and Christina. We started off at Village Yarn & Tea, where I bought a skein of Trekking XXL(#5 in the picture), since everyone and their mom has been raving about how neato-keen cool it is. Then we went out to Acorn Street, where I bought a skein of Opal in American flag colours to make socks for MHP (his choice, #3 in the pic) and 2 skeins of Lorna's Laces in Camoflauge (#6) because I am obsessed with all things camo. Then, off to Weaving Works, where MHP got to pick something else out, the lovely blue Manos (#2) for a hat for himself. Then to Tricoter, where I proceeded to cuss out a breastfeeding woman (long story behind that) and almost hit a brand-new Saab (we were in the "upper class" neighborhood of Seattle) and generally be a pain in the butt. I also bought a skein of Socks That Rock in Rolling Stone, even thought I knew I was getting more STR from my Sock Club :) (#4 is the STR) As you can see, they did not last long in skein form, as I am in love with the ball winder that TB got my for Christmas. MHP also hearts the ball winder. :) I was exhausted after that, went home and crashed out on the couch. Sunday was a BIG mail day. Yes, I know it was Sunday, but we do nothing all weekend, including fetch the mail. What did I have in the mail, you ask? Why this loverly package (see left) from Cari! I bought some yarn/fiber from her when she had a big stash-busting sale. #1 is a pound or so of merino (I think) in a colourway not named, but Cari calls it Melted Clown. So Melted Clown it is. (No, I don't have a wheel. Yes, I have more fiber than most people with a wheel. I'm saving up.) #2 is 2 skeins of a brushed kid mohair in some kick-ass reds, of which I should have really left in the skein (instead of winding it into a ball) because I want the blood-red as chunky highlights in my hair. Ah, well. #3 is a kit for making beaded spider socks that are so much fun to knit, that I almost finished the entire spider part last night while watching "Walk the Line". A side note: I hate Reese Witherspoon with a deep and unbridled passion. I don't understand why. I've met her several times, and she is a very nice person. It is inexplicable. HOWEVER - I love her with an equally deep-running passion in "Walk the Line". I don't think she deserved the Oscar (flame me all you want) for this movie. More packages arrived this weekend - I got my Socks that Rock Sock Club kit, and a really kick ass oven mitt from Angela at NashvilleSNB! (I won the oven mitt by telling my embarassing Martha Stewart story that I will tell y'all some other time.) I'll post pictures later - Blogger hates me again. God, I should probably just bite the bullet and switch to Typepad.

So. I love Saint Patrick's Day, and every Day-after-Saint-Patrick's-Day, I say I should not drink so much. *Sigh* I never listen to myself. SO! I went to the Funhouse, and you people were not there. That's entirely OK, because I'm not 100% sure I would have known it was you, even if you identified yourself by your blog name. The Throttle Rockets were having a shindig, and I wasn't entirely sure that we would stay all night. We got there at 10. I was drunk off my bar stool by 10:45. I saw a whole bunch of people I recognized, and lucky for me, one of my favorite RollerFans hung out with me so I wouldn't fall off my stool. It was gr8. Here is a montage of pictures, of which you will have to discern your own captions. In fact, if you have good captions for any of these, feel free to share. God. I am a drunk ho. I have to explain the kissing one...wait, no I don't. Make up your own story, but no. None of those dudes up there is TB. And I have no idea why my arm looks so giant in that last one with the cowboy dude. SO! Onto sober things, and yarn of all kinds. Saturday started off entirely too early, with MHP's karate test. Disregard peoples, Blogger has stopped uploading pictures AGAIN. I've apparently taxed the limits. I'll post the yarn crawl pictures and MHP's karate test pictures this afternoon or tomorrow morning. PS - congratulations should be in order, I am the #5 result for a Google search for "Catholic Schoolgirl Stripper". Let the party commence.

I am having a day, people. Or, as the case may be, I am having one of those months. One of the months where the stupidity of some people is absolutely FLOORING to me, and I just walk right by like "Yeah, whatev. Do what you want, just don't involve me. Some people apparently have too much money and really don't care that they were a kick-ass Jedi Master at one point in their career, so they make a movie like this. My head hurts just thinking about it. Then, there are self-important pompous dickweeds who are actually gender-less aliens who pretend to knock up a virginal Catholic schoolgirl to promote their image and jump on couches on international television and act like utter morons, and then force Comedy Central to cancel an episode of South Park. Good thing you can find that entire episode here. Then there are people who are Irish by decent, and act like utter idiots on Saint Patrick's Day because they feel they are entitled. Oh, you want an example? Me. I am a prime example. I have a specific sweater from an outdated hockey team, the Toronto St. Pats, that I wear EVERY YEAR. And have since I was 14. You say you've never heard of the St. Pats? Well, they won the Stanley Cup in 1922, and they're known today as the Toronto Maple Leafs. Yes, I am a dork. I also have a recent addition to my Saint Patty's Day wardrobe, the "Everyone Loves an Irish Girl" teeshirt, bought last year at the local Target store for $1.99. (Ignore my sullen look. It's an Irish thing. We drink and fight, it makes us tired. Plus, I can't seem to find my mascara.) I also have my green Jaywalker socks, but I'm not wearing those today because they're dirty. MOVING ON! If anyone in the general Seattle area cares to join me for some Irish/Roller Derby revelry this evening, I will be at the Funhouse around 9. Look for the redhead with the beer. I know, that sort of narrows it down. You should probably LISTEN for the LOUD redhead with the beer. Maybe that's not a good clue. Hey, if you want, come on down. Should be a good time - the Throttle Rockets are hosting a party down there. PS? I love that I'm drinking an Asian produced beer on an Irish holiday. One of the people from our Asia-based team just came and toasted everyone. And now my cheeks are all red. Time to go home!

In place of an actual blog today, I have found the following links to keep you entertained. I am trying to find the other half of my brain, and my rollerskates s I can properly pound someone into the rink tonight at practice. I will make up for it tomorrow. I promise.

• This is more fun than a bucket of chicken. (No, I don't know what that means. I just waste a lot of time, causing a lot of hurried task-finishing at the end of the day)
• Can't watch television because you have derby practice on Sundays at the same time as Grey's Anatomy and Desperate Housewives? (Not that I watch either of those shows, but GOOD GOD why did Meredith sleep with George, and what the hell are they doing to Bree?) Read up here, it will do you some good.
• Go see the girls with the Fug. I cannot stop laughing sometimes at them. With them. At their writing. Whatever.
• Here is an entire gallery of people with a love for Photoshop and a lot of skills. Mad skills. Like bow-hunting skills. And computer-hacking skills.

I need a nap.

So, I will give you the Cliff Notes version of what is going on currently in the State of DeNile. (aka my workplace, where everybody pretends that nothing is wrong. The elephant gets ignored.)

• I have not yet punched the Twat. But I would really like to kick her in the box.
• My boss went to bat for me with the Big Man (aka the VP, Twat's "boss" right now.). Big Man is scared of me, since he is only 5 foot 5, and I am an Amazon woman. Big Man told the Twat that she needs to leave me alone, because she is not my boss.
• The Twat spent most of yesterday pouting in her office with the door closed. When she came and went from her office, she slammed her door really hard. A picture fell off my wall. I promptly fell out of my chair laughing. This only enraged her further. I didn't care. It was the greatest moment ever.
• I had to try really hard not to gloat yesterday and today. I really wanted to point and laugh. But I worked...instead of calling everyone I know to bitch about the problem, knowing FULL WELL THAT MY NEIGHBORS CAN HEAR ME. Silly Twat, Trix are for kids!

I'm done with this for now. Until she comes into my office again. Then I'll have to hurt her.

Practice on Sunday was BAD ASS. Our coach, Warden Peace (ha! He used to be a prison warden; I take FULL CREDIT for his name!) let us have BOUTING practice!!!

The short version, for those of us just joining the program, is that we skated around in circles and hit each other real hard. The long version can be found here - if you're interested in the intricacies of derby. (And this is just plain cool...I like Apple ads. I am a nerd.)

So I went balls to the wall, for this one. I'm one of the bigger girls on our team, height-wise and girth-wise. I'm a menace. I took out half of the team before I landed on my own skate on my already injured posterior.

Ow.

Needless to say, I think I'll have to hit up a couple more blocking drills before trying to seriously injure other people. Doesn't mean it wasn't the best thing I've done in weeks... *wink*

And to end a really loverly post, here are some pictures from the Rat City Charity Brawl a couple of weeks ago.

Nevermind. Blogger is not uploading photos, and apparently is arguing with me. I will post this post before it deletes all my wittiness.

ps - finished the body and hood of the Rogue. Started a sleeve. I just may have this finished by Friday. And by saying that, I've guaranteed that I will end up in tears at 3 am on Friday morning because I cannot figure out how to set in sleeves on the goddamned thing.

Oh, things are getting messy here at work. The Twat thinks she's my boss now and I may get fired at any second if I follow my gut and throw this tape dispenser at her. (No, not the plastic ones that you find in the store, the heavy black ones that look cool and work as window breakers if necessary.) I'll keep you posted, but if I still haven't posted by Tuesday, you'll know I'm probably in the clink for kicking her fat butt. I have my skates in the car, just in case ass-whupping is on the menu today.

Well, hello there internets. I have not seen you in quite some time. At least since yesterday. Wasn't yesterday Tuesday?

I am tired, I am cranky. I am overly sensitive. I am not witty today at all, and the Twat is back on the rampage.

I had no energy to deal with her yesterday, so I shut the door to my office.

As a gesture of thanks for shutting my door to keep all of the insanity and cuss words in my office, I get the following email from the Twat (who sits next door to me):

Libby I would ask that you please have your door either fixed or stop slamming your door ASAP!!!! You constantly are slamming your door and it’s very disturbing especially when I’m on important phone calls for {the Vice President}!!! Thanks, The Twat

Dear The Twat,

I have several problems with this email.

1. Nobody constantly does ANYTHING. Unless you are OCD. Quit exaggerating. You're constantly blowing things way out of proportion.
2. The grammar is atrocious, as it is with most of the emails I receive from you. (To and Too are TWO different words. It's a wonder you know how to use them. Oh, and they're and their are two different words. THEY ARE NOT INTERCHANGABLE). I'm no college graduate, but I have a bit of appreciation for the English language. Don't abuse your right to use it.
3. You're representing the VP of our organization. Do not take his name in vain, and do not use eleventy billion exclamation points in a two sentence email, citing him as the excuse. The important phone calls of which you speak are usually to the cellular telephone companies to try and find out what's wrong with one of his 9 cell phones he uses. (No, I'm not kidding. I don't know why he has 9 different phones. Maybe he likes to call himself.)
4. I'm sure my boss would approve the $450 charge to put a piston door jam thing (I don't know the word for it, but it stops doors from slamming) onto my office door because it disturbs you. Let me go ask him. I'm sure he won't laugh out loud and ask me if I'm joking.
5. If you didn't slam your door every 18 minutes, vacuum at least 2 times per day and play CELINE DION at top volume all day long (without bothering to turn it off when you leave for your 2 hour lunch) then I would probably be a little more receptive to your constructive criticism.
6. You hide behind your emails. You can't tell me stupid things like this to my face (HELLO! I work a whole 9 STEPS AWAY FROM YOU!) but you can berate me in email? Pussy.
7. My boss sits on the other side of you and slams his door all day long. Would you like me to forward this email to him to let him know how much you appreciate it? I thought not.
8. I wouldn't have as much of a problem with this if I didn't hear you call me "insubordinate" this morning in conversation with another of the Menopause Squad. (Oh, and "insubordinated" is NOT A WORD.)

Much love, hugs and kisses,

The Slammer

I might be overly irritated by this, and you may think I'm just being a total idiot (or a Twat, as the case may be) but add up all the stuff I haven't told you about that she's done, plus the fact that I have a migraine and a pulled hamstring, PLUS I think I'm coming down with something, and it all adds up to the fact that I'm whining about something I really could care less about.

I just like to have something to blog about :)

Skating last night and Wednesday night went really well. I need to start sleeping more...I've been averaging about 5-6 hours of sleep per night, and that makes it hard to practice when you're falling asleep during laps.

I'm working on finishing the Rogue sweater by Friday (next Friday) since it's green, and I'd like to wear it for St. Patty's Day.

I'll post more pictures (than this one lonely pic) of the Rat City bout tomorrow or Monday - I'm warning you now, though...they're pretty grainy. The lighting was bad. And my camera skills suck.

Happy Friday everyone!

I was planning on filling this second blogger milestone in as many days with pictures of roller derby girls and some stories of what happened at the bout this past weekend. Then my computer crashed again. Fan failure, and "thermal event"...whatever that means. Like it's a volcanic eruption coming out of my CPU. Stupid computer. So I got nothin' today. I refuse to talk about the Twat atall...regardless of the fact that I had an entire post written about how irritating and brain-damage-causing she is, and then my computer randomly shut down. MHP is doing really well...no major incidents to report as of right now. TB is fine...um....the roommate hasn't killed me yet for not having the Beast towed as of today...I think that's all I've got. I've got practice tonight, so I'm all ready to punish myself on wheels :)

One year ago today, PomPom introduced me to the world of blogging. And nothing has quite been the same since then. When I first started out, I had no idea what I was doing. I blabbed on and on about nothing in particular to nobody in particular for a long time. I wrote letters to my knitting. And then another letter to the same knitting project. (Which, incidentally, I never did finish.) I wrote a letter to a man who burnt toast in the office kitchen. I openly begged people for comments, and got some. I started with pictures from my cell phone, and progressed to pictures from a real big girl camera. I made mistakes. I went to a Mariner's game (Stitch & Pitch!) and I met the Harlot. I went to Las Vegas and celebrated MHP's first day of kindergarten. I took a WHOLE LOT of quizzes. MHP had issues at school. I mourned the death of our blogging-cam. I mourned the death of my relationship with TB. TB came back. We got a smoking ban, I was the "fat friend" and I posted random IM messages from Vegas Shannon. We will not speak of Goliath. Or anything to do with him - that's still a sore subject for me. We had a giant turkey. A couple of them, in fact. It snowed about 1 bazillionth of an inch and the entire Seattle Metro area freaked out. I got drunk at work, and jumped on the Frappr bandwagon. I took a couple (or 3) business trips. I had my annual Christmas nervous breakdown. I got a new tattoo. I peeled the "onion". I started up with roller derby. I celebrated the arrival of the new blogging-cam. I had another birthday. Doesn't everyone whip out their cameras driving down the street to take pictures of the mountains for their blogs? Anyway - so that's a year in the life of Stringer's Bell. Happy Tuesday :)

I know most of you have had the one person in your job history that annoys you so much that you literally have to sit on your hands to prevent yourself from choking the life right out of them while they blab on and on and on about answers to questions nobody cares about. (And if you haven't, it's because you are a very sweet person and I can't imagine you not getting along with anyone.) Which brings us to why I have been notably (or not-so-notably) absent from the internets for 4 whole days. The twat is still here. (Random side note: I am cutting my hairs tonight. I have not sat down since Friday morning, or I would have done it earlier.) Not only is she still here, but she's launched a campaign with 3 very serious goals, all of which have an impact on my sanity/work-life/ability to stay out of jail. Here, in a nutshell, are the goals of this campaign:

1. To ask as many inane and mind-numbing questions as possible, while wasting as much time of as many people as one is able to. You want examples? We had a giant breakfast meeting with the corporate VP yesterday morning (Monday). At 3pm Friday, I call the catering department to confirm that there will be food. Long story short, there's no food because it was never ordered. BFD, right? The Twat launches on an email tirade about what a disaster this would have been if nobody had caught this and how bad this looks and how terrible this all is (NOTE: NOONE WOULD HAVE KNOWN IF SHE HAD NOT SAID ANYTHING). And CC's our department head and a bunch of other mucky mucks on the email. When they respond saying "Well, it's a good thing Libby caught it then, huh?", she says "But what would have happened if she didn't catch it? Who would have taken care of it? I'm only filling in, and I don't have the time to learn all of the intricacies of the job!" (Take note of that last part. It's important for the storyline)
2. To muck up as much stuff as possible, causing FUBAR situations and forcing someone else (read: Libby) to have to clean up the mess. So I am typing this from a loaner computer, because my regular desktop I use at work has overheated and needs a new part. (The tech guy says I work too hard, and I blew out the exhaust fan making my computer work so hard. HA!) So I'm a little slow, because I've been setting up all of my profiles, downloading my necessary tools, etc, so I can actually DO MY JOB. She came into my office yesterday morning (being well-apprised of the situation) looking panicked. "We're supposed to have this video meeting tomorrow morning, and there's no technician scheduled to assist!!" she whines. Duh. That's because I went through 4 hours of training a couple of weeks ago so I could set up these meetings myself and not bother with technicians, who are always late and never helpful. So I explain that to her, and she says "Ok, well I'll call and schedule the technician then." So I have to spend a half hour on the phone with the tech guy (when he calls, because he's confused as to why I wouldn't handle this) explaining. *sigh*. Then there was the narrowly-avoided Korea ticket disaster, where I was handling the VP's travel for NEXT WEEK because she said she was too busy, and she returned the tickets to travel when they were delivered because she didn't order them and didn't know what they were for. Which, in turn, caused me to have to drive to the travel department to wait for the courier to retrieve them again. The other one is a really long complicated stupid story that I'll email offline (hotrodlibbyloo AT yahoo DOT com) if you want to hear it because I'm getting tired of typing.
3. To actually interview and possibly take over Pom's old position. Hence the reason I told you to remember the last line of #1. If she interviews for this position and gets it, you can be damned POSITIVE that I will not stay here. I've already expressed this to the HR department, my boss and her possible future boss. I've made it abundantly clear that yes, I am being 12 years old and pouty, but it is increasingly difficult for me to do both my job and her job for the interim, and that she has FUBAR-ed more situations than I care to explain (oh would you like examples Libby's Boss and HR lady? Of course, here are 10 pages of emails sent in the last 2 days that you both have also received on the recent Breakfast Catering Fiasco Narrowly Avoided. Read up.) and I don't want to be put in a long-term position to continue this, when she would be in a "more senior" position and getting paid nearly twice what I do. And I would not get hazard or combat pay.

So I'm looking for another job.

No injuries to report from Sunday's practice, but I did go to the Charity Brawl for the Rat City Rollergirls on Saturday, and when my normal computer comes back from the sick bay, I'll post some pictures and tell some kick ass stories.

thanks for all the nice comments, and Joe, your hat will come soon enough. Quit asking.

I wholly believe Stephanie when she says that some of the most remarkable things that happen start out with that simple phrase:

• Cutting my own hair this evening. (Hence the Elvgren pin-up up there.) I'm tired of having boring hair, and apparently, I've decided that cutting it myself will make it more exciting. Don't worry, I have plenty of hair, I won't end up bald. Unless hair-cutting is like gambling, and you can't stop until you're busted.
• Dying my hair a colour not naturally found on heads. Don't worry, I'm not dying all of it. Just part of it. Crayola Red chunks. I don't know how long it will last. We'll see.
• I'm gutting my house. Not a remodel (I rent) but throwing things out and getting rid of clothes that don't fit and crap I don't use anymore (Like the Beast. Yes, it's still sitting in front of my house. Don't laugh.)
• I'm taking more risks with my skating. I've been so incredibly safe at practice lately, that I should just not bother going skating atall. I nee to push myself harder and work harder to get to my goals. I won't make a team in the fall if I don't want it badly enough.
• Play more with MHP (whose name I typed and erased 3 times before I finally typed MHP. I have issues, people) I feel like, with everything going on with me, I'm not paying enough attention to him. I suck like that sometimes.

I think that's it. Oh, and I'm designing a super-top-secret project for myself (along with the no chance in hell legwarmers) that I'll let y'all know about when I'm all done. Trust me, it's way super awesome.

So I'm going to do everything I can not to talk about work for a whole blog post. Except for that part right there. SO! Um...I got nothin'. That's not true! I have a visit to the "talking doctor" (aka Dr. Granola, my shrink, whom I adore) to talk out my issues with my mother. And the fact that every time I talk to her, I want to slap her silly. A lot. And the fact that she berates me like I'm 12 and caught smoking every time I do something SHE THINKS IS WRONG, it's just retarded. I would totally cut her RIGHT OFF if MHP didn't go to her house every afternoon for an hour or so after school...and he enjoys it. Yes, I'm looking for alternatives in childcare for him. After the talking doctor, I have practice. MHP is coming with me - he always enjoys getting to watch us skate and possibly skate a little himself. He's turning out to be a real ace on those skates, I'm telling you. I plan on doing a lot of falling drills tonight to test out the new-to-me kneepads, and see if I can find some other wrist guards instead of the cheapo ones I have. I have a plan to knit myself some legwarmers for practice!! They'll have this pattern (a snowflake morphing into a skull) on one leg, and "NOT A CHANCE" on the other leg. Since I'm practicing to be a blocker (meaning I'm supposed to keep people from getting by me) I thought those would be appropriate, non? I thought I would do it in black and white...or black and red? Any suggestions?? PS - for those of you interested in learning about roller derby, check out these websites:

• The Rolllergirls on A&E have a good video series on the rules of roller derby, bruises and fighting, and the parental unit perspective. Check it out
• If you live in a major Metropolitan area (no, I don't know why I capitalized that word), chances are, there's a league near you. Check the US Rollergirls website of leagues here. (PS - there's a BIG difference between Banked Track and Flat Track. I sk8 flat track.) GO SEE A BOUT! I'm telling you, the best entertainment there is. Ever. Period.
• For those of you cerebral types, check the Wikipedia entry here
• Any other questions - leave a comment, normally I can help you out :)

UPDATE: I need to start being more upbeat IMMEDIATELY. I am result #7 for the Google Search "abandoned, lonely, disabled, divorce." HAPPY PEOPLE!! TIME FOR THE HAPPY!!

Sorry, I totally forgot about the blog this morning. Normally, I come in and sit down and check my work email account, and then check my personal email, and then check out some blogs, and then hunker down to work, but here's how this morning went: 8:15 - ME - "MHP!! We have to get up and go to school!" MHP - "Mama, I'm already watching Jakers. Chill down." 8:25 - ME - "WHERE ARE MY SHOES??" MHP - "I put them right by the door." 8:35 (as we're heading towards the car) "WHERE ARE MY KEYS?" MHP - "They're in your hand." 9 - get MHP into his kindergarten class right as the bell rings. The principal (who, as you may recall, I have had to speak with several times) shot me nasty looks. I smiled and waved. Then I ran to my car before he could corner me to ask me "How are you doing?" I hate that. He's so frigging condescending, and keeps telling me "I know how you feel." Side note - he has a penis and a wife. He has NO IDEA HOW I FEEL and should not assure me that he does. Be a PMSing single mom. Then you tell me how you feel. 9:22 - I walk into the building. Now, let me tell you that the front door is about an ENTIRE BUILDING away from where my office is. The front door is at the front of the building. My office is at the very back. For some reason, when I walk in, my boss is standing at the receptionist's desk and demands to know where I've been all morning. Um, I've worked the 9:30 to 6 shift (with a couple hours at night thrown in for good measure) since September. I don't know what his issue is. He starts tossing issues at me like I have a steno pad and a pen all ready, with my pencil skirt and my bun and my secretary hat on. (PS - I wear jeans and sneakers to work. I can't run up and down the halls with a skirt on. Plus I have fat calves.) I tell him I need him to send me a mail (seeing as how my hands are full with my purse, my gym bag, 2 bags of swag to store in my office and 3 packages I retrieved from the receptionist. ) He gets huffy and storms off. 9:32 - after encountering several people with the same agenda as my boss (asking questions and requesting meetings when I'm not at my desk), I finally make it to my office. Which I don't recognize at first, because there are MORE BOXES EVERYWHERE. Plus, I have about 19 little teeny post-it notes ALL OVER MY DOOR. 9:37 - I boot up my computer. I have 214 unread emails since 9pm last night. I have a headache. So, I stole this check-list from Rose, because it's cool and I'm really tired of bitching about my job. mood: raging pissed, yet quite calm. I'm the eye of a hurricane. I've also decided to cut off all socializing with EVERYONE I work with, save a select few. Who I never see. So hermit-ville, here I come! cravings: Butterfinger Crisp, knitting with merino, skating. I want to skate. Right now. underwear: black low-rise, with "PUSSYCAT DOLLS, LAS VEGAS" right across the seat vices succumbed to: Ham & Brie baguette sammich, new books...a little online shopping self-mutilation: dug into my wrist with the end of a paper clip to see how long it would take me to bleed. I like to cause my own pain. fears: my mother screaming at me, my car breaking down, people stealing my sanity hateful thought: "She really should not eat that cake. She should just mash it all together and plaster it on her big fat ass. Or stop bothering me. Twat." hopeful thought: I bought MHP a new book, and I want to read it to him before he goes to sleep tonight. And I got paid. dinner: probably Quizno's chicken club sandwich profanity: all the time. Hard to pick one or two. Had a string of connected ones in a tirade against my retarded computer that lasted about a minute and a half. (One would think that, working at a very important COMPUTER COMPANY, one would have a computer that works. Such is life when you agree to beta-test software. Fuck.) friends: Crazy Melissa called. Haven't heard from her in a while. TB called, to let me know he'll help out with the bout this weekend, but only if it doesn't take all day. He doesn't care about the free ticket he gets, he just wants to help me out. AWWWW!!

I'm exhausted today. I'm a night owl, so I HATE HATE HATE getting up in the mornings. I'm phoning in my blog entry for today by posting this, which I stole from the Sass. No, I don't have any idea why the space is so big. I have a headache and a pile of paperwork threatening to choke me. No time to deal with spacing issues :)

the Romantic

you chose BY - your Enneagram type is FOUR. "I am unique" Romantics have sensitive feelings and are warm and perceptive. How to Get Along with Me Give me plenty of compliments. They mean a lot to me. Be a supportive friend or partner. Help me to learn to love and value myself. Respect me for my special gifts of intuition and vision. Though I don't always want to be cheered up when I'm feeling melancholy, I sometimes like to have someone lighten me up a little. Don't tell me I'm too sensitive or that I'm overreacting! What I Like About Being a Four my ability to find meaning in life and to experience feeling at a deep level my ability to establish warm connections with people admiring what is noble, truthful, and beautiful in life my creativity, intuition, and sense of humor being unique and being seen as unique by others having aesthetic sensibilities being able to easily pick up the feelings of people around me What's Hard About Being a Four experiencing dark moods of emptiness and despair feelings of self-hatred and shame; believing I don't deserve to be loved feeling guilty when I disappoint people feeling hurt or attacked when someone misundertands me expecting too much from myself and life fearing being abandoned obsessing over resentments longing for what I don't have Fours as Children Often have active imaginations: play creatively alone or organize playmates in original game s are very sensitive feel that they don't fit in believe they are missing something that other people have attach themselves to idealized teachers, heroes, artists, etc. become antiauthoritarian or rebellious when criticized or not understood feel lonely or abandoned (perhaps as a result of a death or their parents' divorce) Fours as Parents help their children become who they really are support their children's creativity and originality are good at helping their children get in touch with their feelings are sometimes overly critical or overly protective are usually very good with children if not too self-absorbed

My test tracked 2 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 25% on ABC You scored higher than 51% on XYZ

Link: The Quick and Painless ENNEAGRAM Test written by felk on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

1. When you are exhausted beyond all belief, no matter how much you love derby, do not stay up all night haunting the Rat City bulletin board or pressing the refresh button on the US Rollergirl Dust Devil Tourney site, just because you couldn't go to Tucson for the tournament this weekend. Someone will eventually let you know how the girls have done. They rock. They'll be OK without your constant hovering. And no, ESPN is not covering the tournament. Stop checking the TV guide.
2. Since you want to be a rollergirl, these pictures will help you stay focused. That (or this) is what will happen to you if you don't buckle down and quit f*cking around. You're not in shape? You're going to fall harder than these girls did. And more than normal, since people will purposely be pushing you around. So suck it b*tch and get to work.
3. Stop obsessing about the GD job. F*ck them all; the job is all they have. You have a son, roller derby and knitting. Plus some friends and a boyfriend in there somewhere. It's the weekend - anything work-related can wait until Monday.
4. Don't watch horror movies when you're home alone, or you'll whack your roommate with a pan again. She'll enjoy that about as much as she did tonight.
5. Knitting + Subtitled Movie = SUPER messed up socks (Also, you know about 9 words of Spanish. Please do not try and fool yourself into thinking that you will be able to understand the language without subtitles.)
6. Do not commit to one knitting project for an extended period of time, forsaking all other knitting projects. You will feel very suffocated and want to run screaming into the streets. You love lots of projects all at one time, don't try and fool yourself. You are a knitting whore. And that's ok. (PS - there is no support group for this sort of thing, since it is not a problem. Stop asking people in your LYS.)
7. HA! You wore a bowl on your head for a WHOLE DAY!! HA!!

I'll be offline for the rest of the weekend (except for checking in on the Rat City girls as they kick some ass and take some names in Tucson), so I'll catch y'all on Monday :)

I had this whole rant planned out about my job, but frankly, I've just stopped caring enough to bitch about work. I love my job, I really do. I just don't like the women I have to deal with on a regular basis. OK! Moving on! Here's the picture from yesterday of the FSM car, but digitally re-touched so you don't see the poor unsuspecting driver's license plate. That was wrong of me, and I'm sorry, Mr. I-Drive-A-Honda-But-I-Act-Like-I-Own-The-Road.... And here is a picture of my new shoes, which! Just happen to match my new knitting bag. (Can I talk a little more about how cool my knitting bag is and how one woman at the yarn store from hell told me if she was less of a lady, she would have knocked me down and stolen my cute bag? Hell yes!) Yes, they are Vans. I heart them, so don't you dare say anything nasty about them. (PS - those are little skulls on the shoes.) And that brings us to the super-neato-cool package I got from my SECRET PAL!! So I got it on Wednesday... And good thing too. I needed a new hat, since my hair has been doing uncontrollable things and rebelling against all attempts to beat it into submission, or even into a ponytail. This hat is so warm, and the colours blend into each other and it's FELTED PEOPLE! (please ignore the sullen look on my face. We will get into why it looks like that in just a second, but yes, I am sitting in my office. And yes, I took out the hideous black nose ring.) She also sent me a book of sock patterns (yes, I am not over socks, even though I swore them off after the Jaywalkers..I need more socks!), a really cute book of inspirational quotes, the hat, a very cute card, and a tee-tiny bottle of Vanilla Schnapps. (And no, the Schnapps is not gone yet. It's in my purse, in case of emergency) Ok, so on to why I look all pissed off in that picture. So, that's from yesterday. When the Twat was getting moved into her office some more, and vacuuming for the 47th time since she moved in on Tuesday. This is what happened to MY office. I don't normally have a conglomeration of empty boxes lying around, but she nicely dumped all the stuff she didn't want in my office! Hooray! So now her office is nice and neat and very minimalistic (good thing, since she's only here until they hire somebody for the position) and mine looks like a tent city for Oompa Loompas. Or a place where shipping boxes go to die. I actually use a lot of boxes to ship things, however (as Murphy's Law would have it...) I have not shipped anything in a couple of weeks. So the boxes just keep piling up. (Some of them actually have stuff in them. I should probably ship those out or throw them out.) God - now that I look at these pictures, I wonder how I ever find anything. I am so unorganized. ALRIGHTY THEN - I'm going to go clean my office now...somehow I ended up bitching about my job anyway? UPDATE: Apparently, I am mentally disabled. The cute hat I'm wearing in that picture up there? It's a bowl. Yes, I'm serious. I'm wearing a bowl on my head. I would take the picture down and erase all evidence that I am a dork, but I kind of like that picture, and it reminds me that I should double-check everything. God. UPDATE #2: Apparently, the Twat's office has become a place where all of the other middle-aged bitchy admins go to complain about me, and spread some fun rumours about me. (Did you know that I'm a stripper on weekends? Did you know I was pregnant last year and went to have an abortion on my lunch break? Did you know I was married 4 times by the time I hit 25? Neither did I!) Little do they realize that the walls are practically particle-board, and actually AMPLIFY sound rather than muffle it. So I hear every word. It's starting to affect my performance, and make me less and less willing to get up in the morning, put on some makeup and try to look happy while listening to people bitch about things I haven't really done...and more willing to start all out brawls in the middle of the work day. :)

It's Thursday, so that means 2 things - the injury report from last night's derby practice, and RANDOM THOUGHT THURSDAY!

This is what happens when your pants melt to your leg after you forget you're not wearing kneepads and you practice your falling properly. Ow.

OK! So, since now I know that I can upload pictures, it's time for RANDOM THOUGHT THURSDAY!

A close-up of the fabric from my neato-cool bag that Lynne made me (skulls AND flames....)- and the ends of the bag, which are my favorite part...those are BOLTS, y'all. This has to be the COOLEST KNITTING BAG EVER.

Here's a bumper I saw yesterday with the "Flying Spaghetti Monster" thingy on it, in the style of those "IXOYE" Jesus Fish thingies. (UPDATE: I photoshopped the picture to remove the license plate number, since I'm a total ass and forgot to do that originally. Please see today's (FRIDAY) post for the new and improved picture.) I thought it was amusing, and I apparently have too much time on my hands. It's amazing that I don't get in any car accidents, what with me taking pictures WHILE DRIVING ON THE FREEWAY like this one with the mountain...I'm entirely too crazy to be allowed to operate a motor vehicle.

And apparently I'm done now, with the picture part of my blog...I don't know why my computer randomly quits uploading photos.

I'm still angry at "the twat". She apparently doesn't trust me to do much of anything, and I'm getting yelled at for the stupidest things. The women in my office are very catty, and middle-aged, so since I am neither, they automatically prey on me and the two other not-bitchy-or-middle-aged women in my office.

I'm just tired of office politics.

I got a package from my secret pal yesterday! I'll blog more about it tomorrow - right now I better look busy so Twat doesn't yell at me for no particular reason.

I think I'm pretty much done for this week. I'm glad today is Wednesday, even though, for most of the morning, I totally thought it was Friday. I don't know why. The only explanation I can come up with is that I'm out of my damned gourd and need to go skating to get out some of my pent-up aggression. Good thing today is practice day! WOO!! I am, however, convinced that Wednesday is the worst day of the week to have to go to work. Regardless of the fact that I get to go skating soon, it's not close enough to Monday for me to be refreshed from the weekend, and it's too far from Friday for me to be excited about the next weekend...I used to love to come to work. *sigh* Ok, so I have more pictures for those of you who are visual creatures and want something to look at while you read my blatherings. I entered a contest on Lynne's blog a while ago, for guessing how many skeins she could cram in one of her handmade knitting bags. I entered, but as is my luck with EVERY CONTEST I ENTER ONLINE, I did not win. I struck up an email conversation with Lynne, and she graciously offered to custom make me a bag. (ATTENTION KNITTERS: buy a bag from Lynne. I'm telling you. I'll show you why in a second.) She was a little wary that I wanted skulls on my bag, and that I might be putting my skate pads in there with my yarn, but she forged ahead and made the bag. It came yesterday, along with a separate package from Hot Topic, which we'll discuss at a later time. HOW COOL IS THIS BAG? Now, those of you that have been reading this blog know that I am not traditional in any part of my life. I am a practicing roller derby queen. I am a single mom, who does things rather unconventionally. I would have weird coloured hair, but my boss is mad enough that I got my nose pierced while they were all away at some convention last summer...so I needed something a little more fun and funky than most bags I could find at my LYS's...and this bag is perfect. What? What's that you say? You say you can't see the KICK ASS FABRIC that Lynne used for the bag? Um, neither can I. If you're reading this, wait for a couple of minutes and lemme see if I can figure out why my stupid computer is no longer uploading pictures. Back in a flash. UPDATE: My computer is apparently on strike, and is no longer posting pictures. You will have to wait for the exciting conclusion of this blog entry.

So PomPom is gone. I am very sad, and I have a new person to work with, which makes me really cranky. I like people, but I don't like having to get used to a new person in heavy doses. Does that even make sense? I like people. I like making new friends, but I really don't like being thrust into a situation where I have to deal with one "new" person for large amounts of time for an undetermined period of time. I want them to hire someone else. Plus, this new person is a total twat. (Pardon my french.) Ok, I'm not making sense and not being nice anymore. ON TO THE PICTURES!! When last we met, we were talking about my super cool skates and my wicked awesome falling skills. Here is the aftermath of my wicked cool falling skills from Saturday's practice - that tiny pink mark on my kneecap (yes, that's my knee...and yes, I'm aware it's completely and utterly blindingly pale) is now a bruise that covers my entire kneecap. I'm not really sure where it came from. The one on the side of my knee is from me falling on my own wheels. 90% of my bruises come from me falling on my wheels. But I love my war wounds, and I'll just keep posting them as they develop. So be warned. Oh yes, there will be blood. (Wait, didn't I say that yesterday? Now I'm starting to repeat myself. Great.) SO! Saturday ended with me, TB and TB's roommates going to a party in Ballard (a "borough" of Seattle, for lack of a better word) and getting completely lost, going to the wrong place (all the flyer said was "At the Sunset" and I neglected to read the address), ending up at the right place, having a great time, and apparently leaving before Dave Matthews (yes, THAT Dave Matthews) showed up. I leave the party too early, sometimes. (No pictures from the Sunset...I had 4 Ranier beers in 30 minutes, so I sort of forgot to take pictures.) Sunday morning, TB and I woke up, went and picked up MHP from my parents' house, and headed up to the mountain to go snowboarding. That's all I'm going to say, because shortly after this picture was taken, both of the boys threw separate tantrums, and we all got back in the car and went home. So I went and bought more yarn. I think that's the only way for me to work through a rough patch in life...much healthier than eating my brains out (which I don't do anyway...I starve myself during breakups and tough times) or running my ass off (which I tried when TB and I "broke up" a few months ago) or any of those other destructive habits people get themselves into. I've seriously come to the end of my rope with the job today - I just cannot take it anymore. I'm at the point where I would rather be unemployed and homeless than stay here every day. I've got to go - see if my therapist will give me Xanax to keep me from becoming violent at work.

No, I'm not done with the Estonian HellFire Wrap, but you sure are funny for thinking that. I'm done with human beans today. I've had enough of people everywhere today, and frankly, they can all take a flying leap into a pit full of used junkie needles at this point. (Oh yes, there will be blood...I love that movie.) ANYWAY! I don't want to talk about work, people or angry monkeys. Let's talk about what I did this weekend! Saturday was weird - I don't normally have practice on Saturdays, so that threw off my whole groove. The roommate had somone spend the weekend all weekend (Thanks for asking me! Of course your slovenly friend is not welcome to stay on my couch!) so that threw a wrench in the works too. Saturday morning, MHP and I stayed in bed and watched Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (the Depp/Burton version) for the 900th time, then we went and picked up our rental snowboarding gear with TB. After that, we went and had tea at Village Yarn & Tea with Bling! and Elaine, from PinkPurlGrrl. I love them. They are adorable, and Bling played trains on the table with MHP while Elaine and I went and bought yarn. And no, I'm not showing you what I bought because I already put it all away. :) (MHP took that picture - can you tell?) Then I went to practice. As I've previously mentioned, I am not exactly graceful when it comes to falling. Since we did falling drills, I was especially accident prone. And that brings us to a picture montage. Hooray!

These are my skates. I love them. Even though the toes are all scuffed up, and the uppers are so stiff around the ankle that I'm suffering some HEAVY bruising, they are mine. My skates. And no, I don't have tree-trunk legs - those kneepads are really killing me.

And apparently my computer has stopped uploading pictures. I'll have to get to the rest of my weekend later...I'm off to knit one more row on that wrap.

At this rate, I'll be lucky if I finish the damned thing by the time the Summer Olympics come around.

Oh, and tune in tonight for the Grand Slalom and root for Libby Ludlow, will you? I went to school with her and her brother all through public school (1st through 12th grades) and we're all really proud of her. It's nice to be able to claim you knew someone back when...

I may be pulling out of the Knitting Olympics. What, with trying to break in my new skates in practice 3 times a week (and visiting the chiropractor once a week), trying to keep up with MHP, working 50-60 hours a week and trying to acclimate myself to my new additional responsibilities at work, I just don't think it's possible. Why, you may ask? It's not that difficult of a project, I don't think - it's just REALLY LONG. I'm supposed to do 40 repeats of the cute "little flowers" lace chart. Here's what I have so far:

That's 9 1/2 repeats. In 5 days. I'm sucking at this whole time constraint thing - but I am in total love with the green alpaca lace.

Valentines' Day was boring - since it's 2 days after my birthday, if TB does something nice for my birthday, he's kind of off the hook for V-Day. Lucky bastard. Since he took me to Sephora and gave me a bunch of money to spend on myself for my birthday, I let the over-commercialized-bullshit-"love"-not-a-real holiday slide.

I did, however, get these from him. He was cute enough to pay attention to the fact that I enjoy tulips, and I was lucky enough to have a vase to kill them...I mean PUT them in my office, and right where I can see them when I'm chained to my desk.

He's adorable when he's not being a total douchebag.

ANYWAY - so if I drop from the Olympics, I'll let you know...'til then, consider me an Olympian :)

Nothing else exciting - it's been nice and sunny lately, but cold enough outside to freeze a Winnebago! I responded to a few people in the comments yesterday...I'll just keep doing that unless I get lazy.

Happy Half-Nekkid Thursday!

Oh, and PS? This was such a great definition of me, I couldn't pass up posting it:

Libby -- [noun]: A level headed person who always makes the wrong decision 'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com

I got a present from my parents. I know, it's TOTALLY shocking, but apparently they came into some actual real money that did not involve them in illegal activities, and they actually bought me a real live present. And it's cool, want to see what it does?

Yeah, that's right. I FINALLY got a replacement for the brick camera that died oh so long ago. So now, you have visual aids to go along with my rambling! Aren't you TOTALLY EXCITED??

OK, so maybe you're not as excited as I am to be able to FINALLY show you things like the finished We Call Them Pirates hat (please excuse the sullen look, and that's a NOSE RING, not a BOIL):

Or one of my finished Jaywalker socks (the other was made a little too zealously, and I had to frog it to extend the toe):

So. Needless to say, I'm a wee bit excited about my digital camera, and must run out immediately to purchase a memory card, because the camera itself only holds 10 pictures.

I'm trying to think of a fun contest to have to give away some sock yarn...does anyone have any ideas?

OK! So the birthday was fun times...I won't bore you with all the sordid details, but I did get to skate yesterday, so all was good in the House of Libby. Vegas Shannon was nice enough to give me a very lovely birthday present I can share with all of you. Try not to make yourself sick from the sweetness of it all: TOP 10 REASONS WHY I’M STILL FRIENDS WITH LIBBY AND HAVE NOT CHOKED THE EVERLOVING DAYLIGHTS OUT OF HER… YET. :) 10. She’s a fucking roller girl. Dude. That rocks. 9. She let me come up with her roller derby name: removed until I become a real rollergirl so no-one else will steal my name Yup. That was all me. 8. We have the same brain. Which doesn’t bode well for me, but there you have it. 7. She chokes on lemonade in front of hot guys. Who wouldn’t be entertained by that? 6. She falls down a lot. A LOT. You don’t understand… like, all the time. Again, pure entertainment. 5. She randomly falls out of her desk chair. Something about the computer cords getting tangled around her… it makes me laugh hysterically. 4. She’s FUN. Never a dull moment. Even when she’s not falling down or choking. I can always count on her to try new things. 3. She can ALWAYS make me laugh. 2. She’s beauty-ful. Inside and out. 1. She’s a super loyal good friend. And if you talk shit about me, she’ll kick your ass. You've got to love Vegas Shannon. She's super-awesome. SO! It's not too late to