In Which I Remember That My Hair Sucks.

So I thought I’d take pictures of the second knit top I made using the same block as before (which, by the way, is not the horrible tunic pattern I was struggling with- this block is very easy to work with since I custom-fit it last year… all I had to do this year was remove about 4” from the hip to account for the 4” I, uh, lost from my hips).

Now granted, I chose to take my pictures in the morning while my hair was still wet.  But still, I’m realizing (for about the one-thousandth time in my life) that hair is an evil, terrible, horrifying thing and human beings should all (yea! verily! all!) be bald.  Because my hair sucks.

Anyway, here’s the second version I made of the knit top.

Wonder Wo-maaaan!

This is a combination of knits I also got from Golden D’Or (I think).  They’re nicer quality than the last shirt.  I was a little worried it was going to be too Patchwork-Patti (I just made that up-- you like it, admit it) but I think the end result was ok.  I got multiple compliments on it, although that’s always a little suspect around here since we do not live in what anyone could call a Fashion Haven.

And for further proof of just how much trouble it is to get a photo, here is what else happened in the one and a half minutes I spent trying to get a decent picture.  There was this:

not one person in this photo has combed their hair

and this:

“Hey, I’m taking a pict---“

Lovely.  I look like I have no neck.  I seriously did not want to post such an unflattering picture, but it was just too funny.    I wish I could have gotten a simultaneous shot of the Husband’s befuddled expression.

Regardless, this is way too many people in my personal space at 7:15 am.

 

Meanwhile, SHOE-OFF!

I Told You So.

 

I have been sewing.

custom block knit top, possibly modeled by Wonder Woman wannabe

 

I just haven’t been photoing.

 

Possibly because I usually get this:

oops! timer.

 

Or this:

This Person Has Absolutely No Sense Of Humor

 

Or possibly this:

what do you mean, "camera settings"?

 

Oonaballona, rather annoyingly, usually gets something like this:

oh my!

 

Or this:

no, you don’t say!

 

Except she looks cute and adorable in hers.

 

I did get a perfectly reasonable shot of the cute shoes I was wearing.

even if they were hawked by the Olsen Twins

 

vital statistics, somewhat randomly-

pattern:  custom drafted knit shirt block (as first seen here)

alteration: reduced original side seams at hip by 4”, “twisted” neck binding, elbow-length sleeves

fabric: cheap mystery knit from Golden D’Or

And Now For A Few Things In The Random W.T.F. Category

1)  Today we are all excited because my boss declared to one of the co-owners, “We’re always closed on Good Friday.” 

We have never, no not ever been closed on Good Friday.  Trust me. 

After a hasty conferral, we all (other co-owners included) decided to just not tell him that he has apparently succumbed to a crack addiction.  So we all have tomorrow off.  This has made me inordinately happy.  I should probably investigate further why a simple day off has produced this slightly disturbing level of happiness, but for now I’m just going to revel in the unexpected holiday.

 

Did I mention that tomorrow is the Husband’s day off?  And that the kids were supposed to have an Inclement Weather day but they used it up in the blizzard this year, so they have to go to school?

Maybe my happiness isn’t so inordinate.

 

2)  I was just on Facebook (bleh) and this ad popped up in that annoying side-bar-smorgasbord of ads:

It only takes one year to complete.  I think that’s pretty impressive.  However, I think they might make the “social work for possessed demon-spawn children” part a little more clear in the text as it could be sort of a surprise for someone expecting to become, you know, just a normal social worker.

 

3) This week my DVR recorded exactly 60 seconds of “Glee”.  I clicked on “Glee”.  I watched as the screen froze.  I looked at the recording status bar as it stopped on “60sec” and then…. I just turned off the TV.  No voluble cursing or shaking of fists in anger.  No jumping up to see if it was online yet.  Just… meh.  Ok.  Whatever.

Oh Glee, Glee, Glee…. it seems our romance has run it’s course.  No no… don’t say anything.  Just let me remember you the way you were.