she's just saying...

She can ski, shoot and knit. All at the same time!

Just when I was bemoaning my fall from scuba diver to knitter, here comes a true athlete. Biathlete AND knitter, Magdalena Neuner. She even has her own pattern and yarn line.

Here's her blog banner:

Hmm. Maybe I need to get a rifle.

I can't say it any better

From Forbes.com:

What's ironic is that I am an advertiser on NBC. Granted, I don't buy national airtime for a car brand - it's a museum in the Central Oregon market. But hey, I'm paying them money. And even as an advertiser, this total lack of respect for the viewers really pisses me off. I'm close to pulling my media buy but for the fact that I care about my local franchise and my reps. I've let them know how I feel, but I doubt it's going to get back to 30 Rock.

And yes, we're still watching the Olympic prime-time coverage at home - what choice do we have?

Oh wait: I take that back. I could be watching the Olympics right now (Sat. afternoon): NBC is providing live coverage. Up now:

Men's Hockey

Late round-robin action features the Slovakian men versus Latvia.

Phrases I'll ban when I'm Queen

This is officially a Friday Frylet, as it's Friday.

This week's phrase: "Game changer" 

GAACK! I HATE this phrase. Everything's suddenly a game changer this year. Who started it? There are books, blog posts, editorials and pedantic pundits who are now calling anything new a "game changer." Quit it!

In my opinion, this is the only thing that can be called a Game Changer:

Yes, that's a doggy remote-control holder, available here.

And Kathi D: they didn't make a Sheltie version.

Obama and the Lama

But will anything change?

(Official White House Photo by Pete Souza)

President Barack Obama meeting with His Holiness the Dalai Lama in the Map Room of the White House, Feb. 18, 2010.

(Sorry - couldn't resist that title)

The first sign of spring

Feb. 18:  Pitchers and catchers report to Spring Training.

Feb. 23: All other players report to Spring Training.

I have to admit that if I read a similar post regarding football in August or whenever they all report, I'd think "what a loser." But hey, it's my blog, so it's cool.

An alien ate my homework

Henry and I saw Percy and the Olympians: The Lightening Thief yesterday. (awkward title, but comes from the book series.) It was mildly entertaining --100% formula, a sort of Harry Potter-very-lite, but with a nice original Greek mythology theme.

This particular formula goes like this: teen feels like a misfit; hooks up with other misfits; together they save the world from _________ (evil wizards, aliens, motor vehicles who transform into aliens, Greek Gods, spy kids, superhero-villains); gain coolness and set the stage for the sequel. All with hipness, wittiness, hottieness and all the other attributes misfit teens possess. Adults are either 1. ineffectual, 2. non-existent, or 3. clueless losers who get in the way. 

There's the usual geeky (or in this case, goaty) sidekick, the cute but unavailable girl, the bullies and bad guys, fight scenes and diner scenes. All normalcy returns in the end and the misfit gets the girl.

There were some amusing effects: Pierce Brosnan as a horse's ass (his words, not mine!), Uma Thurman as a wonderfully campy compelling Medusa, and Rosario Dawson as a very hot Persephone (a little geek greek mythology humor there - get it?). Unfortunately, next to the adults, the kids are a little colorless. Lots of no-names with no personalities, frankly. Maybe they'll develop in the next ones.

As a pre-teen, Henry eats up these movies. I wonder what messages he's getting. I also wonder where these kids get the money for food and gas and how they're going to describe this adventure on their college admissions essays.

Uma's having a bad hair day.

Update: embroidery scissors no longer terrorist tool

From the Transportation Safety Association: good news for flying fiber crafters:

Item	Carry-on	Checked
Box Cutters	No	Yes
Ice Axes/Ice Picks	No	Yes
Knives - except for plastic or round bladed butter knives	No	Yes
Meat Cleavers	No	Yes
Razor-Type Blades - such as box cutters, utility knives, razor blades not in a cartridge, but excluding safety razors.	No	Yes
Sabers	No	Yes
Scissors - metal with pointed tips and blades shorter than four inches	Yes	Yes
Swords	No	Yes

But, please, leave your meat cleavers in your checked baggage.

Sock fetish

This guy should be in the Guinness World Book of Records, if they cover knitting events.

He's knitting 14 socks on one needle. Seriously. And, each pair is in a different (and intricate) pattern.

Why? Because, um, I have no idea. But it's pretty impressive.

fibery goodness 2010

Warning: this blog is being highjacked by knitting topics for the next few days. If that isn't your thing, come back on Monday, when it will be released into randomness again.

Here I am in a swanky moderne hotel in Tacoma, Wa. I'm here for my annual pilgrimage to the center of fiber madness in the Pacific NW, the Madrona Fiber Retreat. (I say fiber because there are a lot of spinners here as well. Funny to see these quaint wooden wheels being lugged around by funky young women. And a guy here and there as well.)

Knitters are everywhere: in the elevator, lounging in the lobby, at the bar, in the cafe. It's a bit bizarre, but you just have to let go and get into it. I got here this morning and hit the yarn market. The real finds here are the handspun, individually dyed yarns - the creators are here selling their handmade wares. Incredible subtle shifting colors, odd combinations that work, yarn from the owners' own alpacas or sheep. I've decided I never want to buy commercially-made yarn again (must stay out of yarn stores).

Of course it means a sweater will cost well over $100, so I'll be limited to making shawls, scarves, socks and such. I'm taking a few classes, mostly in colorwork (I'll post the swatches). Here's a shot of the marketplace.

Caution: fiber fumes

Ravelympics 2010 - get your needles started...

Alright. We've established that I have no life, correct? This is what it's come to: I'm getting overexcited about the start of RAVELYMPICS 2010!

From the Ravelry website:

Time for the next round of madness that is the Ravelympics. This time we’re “gathering” in Vancouver, Canada during Feb 12-28, 2010. Goal: 2 weeks of focused, intense personal & team challenges to tackle while watching the actual Olympics unfold before our eyes.

Tonight, mass quantities of knitters, spinners and crocheters are going to start projects all at the same time when the opening ceremonies begin. Right now the count of participants is 8,729, with 33 events like Beading Biathlon, Felting Freestyle and Hat Halfpipe. There are hundreds of teams and it all unfolds live via the website with forum chats, countdowns, music and general silliness.

Oh, those wacky crafters! 

I have a few UFOs to tackle and am going to challenge myself with toe-up socks on two circulars. Whoa. Hope I don't break a finger.

So who's with me? Anybody??  Polly?

Bob, the Boston Terrier, the official mascot of Ravelry and Ravelympics.

Update:Just finished my first unfinished object! Medalled! On to the next...

Top Ten Tues: boring details edition

Drowning Girl by Roy Lichtenstein

What idiot said: "Don't sweat the small stuff -- and it's all small stuff"?

Actually, he's right, it pretty much is all small stuff. But it all has to be sweated, or it won't get done. Then what do you have?? The fabric of our society torn apart, rather than just fraying at the edges.

I'm having one of those nights. Here's what I'm obsessing about:

1. Henry's 11th birthday tomorrow - I haven't planned anything
2. Buying cookies for Henry's class on the way to work in the am
3. Finishing videos and the website for the new exhibit we're opening Thursday
4. Flying out at 6 am Sat. for a knitting retreat
5. Organizing Henry for the weekend, complete with ski stuff
6. Valentines Day (the day I return) - cards, candy, etc. for H.
7. Ravelympics 2010 - a knitting event during the Olympics (I'm on Team Hopelessly Overcommitted)
8. Calling my parents
9. Getting Flash to the vet, and oh, who's going to watch him this weekend?
10. Fixing the leak over the kitchen window - needs professional help

Sometimes it's all too much. Nothing to do but have another glass of wine and tackle today's Sudoku. Or whine about it in a blog post.

What do you do when you're being sucked under by the small stuff?

SWTHDTM?* My 15 sec. of fame

Alright. Moving on.

You'll enjoy this guest post from my old friend Clif from The Boston Globe (he's not old; the friendship is. Very.) It's editorial-length, so I apologize to any blog-length-attention-span readers.

And by the way, "suffering succotash" was by far the best response.

SWTHDTM?*

By Clif Garboden  |  February 7, 2010

Editor's note: *SWTHDTM = So What The Heck Does This Mean?

“Roasted rutabagas.’’

The two-word message showed up as a post in my Facebook “news feed’’ one morning. What was I to make of this? Did my friend Melissa, way out in Bend, Oregon, want a recipe? Was she typing in her sleep? Trying her hand at avant garde poetry? Had she awoken before dawn, sleepily popped a few swedes in the oven, then impulsively decided to confess the deed to everyone she knows?

So often these days, my immediate reaction to the cryptic snippets of thought that people share online, is equally brief, namely, “What?!!!’’ Sometimes, I answer posts with a simple question, such as, “Sorry, what are you talking about?’’ but I seem to be the only one who’s curious or uncool enough to admit that I just don’t get it.

What’s remarkable is that Mel got any responses at all. Consider receiving her communiqué via any other conversational medium. If you answered the phone and the caller said, “Roasted rutabagas’’ and hung up, you’d dismiss it as some pranking kid who didn’t know the joke about Prince Albert. If you opened a letter that read, “Dear sir, Roasted rutabagas,’’ you’d probably contact homeland security.

Yet within the paradigm of digital discourse, nobody blinked. One Friend of Melissa interpreted “roasted rutabagas’’ as the opening gambit of a silly word game requiring an equally alliterative retort, and a parade of FOMs took the field. The ensuing thread included “toasted toast’’ (lame), “pecan pie’’ (close), and (really stretching it) “likable leftovers.’’ I chimed in with a quote from Sylvester J. Pussycat: “sufferin’ succotash.’’

It’s common for people to post pithy one-line online updates such as “Off and running’’ or “Sam the Sham,’’ or “Fish for lunch?’’ all declarations that, it would seem, no response could dignify. Yet people uninhibitedly write back. “Me too.’’ “Fetch my turban?’’ “Capers.’’ Inspired by Twitter’s 140-character-per-missive limit, conversationalists are trying to say ever more with even less and creating model discussions for people with short attention spans, nothing useful to say, and an exaggerated interest in whether their friends are eating well.

In the daily expanding world of emailing, texting, Tweeting, and posting, shortcuts make sense. After all, people are often typing with their thumbs on a keyboard the size of a playing card. But I worry about the unintended consequences of minimalizing the art of conversation just to suit a new technology.

For most online users, it started with that cute email shorthand “LOL’’ for “laugh out loud,’’ “IMHO,’’ for “in my humble opinion,’’ etc. Before long, the email abbreviation gimmick spun out of control. Netlingo.com lists hundreds of examples, ranging from the ubiquitous “BFF’’ (best friends forever) to the preposterous “SODDI’’ (some other dude did it). Millions of students, many of whom should instead be sorting out the binomial theorem or analyzing “Macbeth,’’ rely on such terms to “discuss’’ things.

It sure does save time. Presumably, the American colonies would have cut ties with Britain in late June of ’76 if the Second Continental Congress had employed the economies of net lingo: “WITCOHEIBNFOPTDTPB . . .’’. Then again, there would have been inevitable delays because George III would have had no idea what they were getting at.

Which goes to show that you shouldn’t take these fads too far. Like every other technology-driven cultural adaptation, the construct of saying things in as few words as possible has already acquired a dangerous momentum. Judging from Facebook and Twitter exchanges, it has invaded our very way of understanding our own lives. A new language of brevity has emerged that’s proving to be the soul more of confusion than wit. Apparently that’s good enough for people already preoccupied doing three other things.

Last week WGBH aired a “Frontline’’ report on digital media, a good portion of which was devoted to the vogue for obsessive multitasking. Bottom line: multitaskers, generational affiliation notwithstanding, feel as if they’re doing everything but, research shows, are doing everything less well. Worse, their overall quality of thought has been degraded by distraction. One of the simultaneous things they’re attempting to do is maintain friendships through dribbles of terse out-of-context free association. Muddled minds. Truncated diction. Unelaborated thoughts. Synaptic snapshots. Message unclear. Future uncertain. Pie for breakfast. Help?

Clif Garboden is a Boston-area freelance writer.  

And just because this post needs a visual, here's a shot of him looking like the guru at the top of the mountain.

KTHXBAI. TTYL.

The poor poor men Bowl

Thoughts while watching the Superbowl:

First, kind of hard to focus while 7 boys run through the house repeatedly. Not to mention the bloody mary. Anyway, I' m not going to talk about the actual game here, as my observations are not worth your time reading. Carrie Underwood seems to have gotten her face molded in plastic, but let's move on.

They (the network traffic managers) clearly planned to run two pant-less ads back to back (so to speak), then two little people themed ads back to back in the next break. As an advertiser, that would irritate me, but you don't have that much say in when you're scheduled, other than quarters.

But what's with those themes? How did two different agencies (and their clients) come up with those identical themes? Corporate spies? They're both a little too weird for coincidence, in my opinion.

And let me just say, Aww, poor men. They're so oppressed that they're having to make self-referential ads about how whipped they are by all us mean women. That reminds me that the creative offices of major ad agencies (and the clients') are still dominated by men. 

And The Who: weird. If you didn't look, they sounded pretty good, but who wants to watch your friends' dads pretending to still be cool? And what was with the "medley"? Almost a self-parody, really.

OK, maybe I'm feeling a little cynical. That's what the most made-up "holiday" does for me. And don't get me started on how crowded the Safeway was before the game.

Now the Puppy Bowl - that's television!! On to the second half.

Mon oeil!

[French expression for "My eye!" Similar meaning as "my foot!" oddly enough.]

Eye update. I just got new glasses.

I got my first pair of glasses in second grade. They were wonderful pink cats-eye frames with sparkles. In third grade I moved on to the blue ones with sparkles. My eyes were so bad I got new glasses at least once a year. In college I switched to contacts and never looked back. (ha ha "looked" - get it?)

The biggest obstacle for me to accept regarding my glaucoma surgery was that I now can't wear contacts. Actually, I can wear one contact. That seems a little risky. And blurry. And headache-producing. But hey, you have to suffer for vanity!

But for everyday, I really have to wear glasses. I decided on the geek chic look this time, only a few years after the trend died out. I consider these my anti-Sarah Palin look. Damn right I'm wearing glasses, and not those "let's pretend we don't have coke-bottle bottoms wired to the front of our face" rimless ones.

With these new glasses, I can drive at night again, which means taking Henry to open gym, the indoor skate park, movie night at the local swim center, etc. -- all those things I pawned off on his friends til now.

The downside to a new prescription is that I now see my kitchen floor is filthy.

The operated-upon eye is doing well - the filter is doing its thing and the pressure is down. Now we have to tackle the other eye. As Dr. Cute says, "you'd have to be crazy to get that procedure again," so we're looking at something new. Unfortunately, the doctor to do it is in Sacramento. Why couldn't it be somewhere more interesting? I foresee (he!) spending a few lonely nights in a nondescript motel on the outskirts of a dull town. Anyone want to join me?

Coolest. Quit. Ever.

Sun Microsystems CEO Jonathan Schwartz announced his resignation yesterday through a haiku on Twitter.

"Today's my last day at Sun. I'll miss it. Seems only fitting to end on a #haiku. Financial crisis/Stalled too many customers/CEO no more"

I don't know about you, but I'm pretty impressed. It almost makes me want to follow my Twitter timeline again. Of course, if you had to tweet in haiku it would be a hell of a lot more interesting.

What would you write if you were a Twitter quitter? In haiku?

I actually love my job, and believe me, I'm very aware of how lucky I am. So I don't even want to write a hypothetical resignation, in case it jinxes me somehow.

However, I'd just like to point out the following:

*From wikihow: "A haiku is a non-rhymed verse genre, conveying an image or feeling in two parts spread over three lines, usually with a seasonal reference. There are 5 syllables in the first sentence, 7 in the second and 5 again in the last sentence. ...

It is important to distinguish between pseudo-haiku that says whatever it wants in a 5-7-5 syllable pattern and literary haiku that adheres to the use of season words, a two-part juxtapositional structure, and primarily objective sensory imagery."

Sorry, Jonathan. Major points for style, taken away for pseudo-haiku. I'd say you should keep your day job, but I guess you just trashed that option.

Meanwhile, I'm now fired up about attempting to write a haiku, something I haven't done since 4th grade. And of course, I'll share my work with you, dear readers. And I'm challenging you to do the same!

Top Ten Tuesday: Let's talk about sox, baby...

Top ten reasons to knit socks

Obviously not to save money. Sock yarn isn't that cheap, unlike a six-pack of tube socks from Target.

1. You can finish them faster than a sweater, unless you're me.
2. Sock patterns can be as easy or as challenging as you like.
3. There are lots of steps, making them less boring than a scarf.
4. You can practice endless texture and color patterns, and even new "sockitecture." Seriously.
5. They're portable, especially on circular needles.
6. They make unusual and unique gifts.
7. Homemade socks are surprisingly comfortable.
8. It's fun to show them off (but really, don't wear them with sandals).
9. Unfinished socks aren't really counted as work-in-progress, so you can always have some going (one of those quirky knitting beliefs)
10. They're considered "cool" in the knitting world, so you can be too.

Pooling and flashing illustrated (technical yarn terms)

Confessions of a sleepaholic.

Mmmmm, sleep. What is more delicious than sleep, really?

Last year was a personally challenging period as I dragged myself through repeated breakups and eye surgeries. Sleep was my refuge and reward. I started going to bed earlier and sleeping later until I was up to about nine and a half hours a night.  Sometimes nothing was worth staying up for, sometimes it was my escape from obligations, sometimes I was just very tired. But it got me through the year in a relatively stable state of mind.

This year I have no good excuses, but now I'm hooked on it. And I have no interest in kicking the habit.

I'm a really good sleeper. I fall asleep within two minutes of hitting the pillow and don't wake up until  Flash's senior-dog bladder kicks in, the alarm goes off or cats start sitting on my chest. On the weekends, I get up, throw them all out and go back to sleep for another hour or two. I guard my sleep time and don't let anything interfere. Henry has learned to his peril not to wake me NO MATTER WHAT. Last night I slept over 10 hours. And I can't wait to get back to bed!

I don't think I'm suffering from depression or a low-grade illness. I just enjoy sleep, and it seems the more I get the more I want. (Isn't that the first sign of addiction?)

Kathi D says that getting a lot of sleep is the latest trend. (Her latest blog post is titled "Sleep is the new awake," a great title IMO). Who knew? I feel mildly disappointed that my recent obsession with sleep is just another car on the trendtrain, but that happens when you're smack in the middle of the baby boom. Nothing we do is original, ever.

I might feel slightly bad about all the time I "waste" asleep, except that I credit it for my mental and physical health. It's the only pleasure I indulge in that's actually good for me. 

I figure I'll eventually get enough, and will find a more balanced equilibrium between sleep and awake. But for now, I'm going to bed. Sleep tight and sweet dreams.

Grammar rant: verbs that aren't

I know you're all waiting breathlessly for a sock post, but in the meantime, allow me to complain.

There are some nouns that just shouldn't try to be verbs. Some have slipped in and are now accepted, but we have to draw the line somewhere. (For example, to table something seems to be legit. But you wouldn't desk something. Yet.)

Top of my list is "journal," i.e. to journal. Just typing that makes me itchy. I see wall hangings, a scented candle, new age music in the background and someone writing endlessly about nothing. (Unlike to blog which is perfectly acceptable.)

MyBigBro mentioned one he doesn't like: to gift. Actually I think there's a nuance there versus "to give," but I can't put my finger on it.

How about to parent? I don't know how to parent. I do know how to nag, cuddle, nurture, lecture, feed, support and yell a lot, though.

I can accept to medal and to impact. After all, I'm in advertising, where we concept regularly. To concept an ad is not really anything like conceiving. It's less physical, for one thing.Of course, we also wordsmith a lot.

And then there's dialoguing. This kind of fits with the crowd who journal and parent.

This brings up the old story about xeroxing stuff with a small x, but that one has kind of escaped Xerox's control. But I think Google likes the verb to google - I would if I were them.

When we worked on cell phones, Sony-Ericsson was attempting to verbify their logo, as follows:

as Logoblink.com shows it.

(I can't remember what they called that - the orb? the sphere? ) It was awkward.

As for me, I think verbing certain nouns garbages up the language. Really. So let's refusal it.

Top Ten Tues: sustainable or just cheap?

My parents are both very frugal. My mom grew up on a small farm in New England, a direct descendent of austere puritan stock. My dad grew up during the Depression in Germany. Though his family was well-off, it must have left an impression, because he's always been fiscally conservative. Putting four kids through good private college and grad school on an engineer's salary must have been tight, but we had a solidly upper-middle-class upbringing due to my parents' careful spending.

Regrettably, I can't say I inherited the trait. I think my family considers me fairly extravagant. However, I did pick up some cost-saving habits along the way. My friends used to laugh at me for them, but now they're kinda green and eco-hip.

So whether you want to save money or the planet, here are ten 3R*s I learned at home:

1. Rinsing and reusing ziplock baggies, bread wrappers, foil and paper plates - always some drying on a rack by the sink
2. Saving butter wrappers to grease cookie sheets
3. Using dishcloths instead of paper towels (sorry, KathiD: warshrags)
4. Picking all the meat off the turkey carcass for soup and stock
5. Carefully saving wrapping, bows and ribbon to reuse, sometimes for years (the common refrain at Christmas: "don't rip the paper!")
6. Putting cheese ends and bread crusts in the freezer for fondue and breadcrumbs
7. Pouring off bacon grease for cooking (I don't cook bacon, but I do render chicken fat)
8. Composting and growing our own vegetables (we composted back in the 50's - it was considered a bit weird in our suburb)
9. Adding water to dishwashing liquid to stretch it
10. All four of us taking a bath together to save water (OK, that was when I was 4)

Okay, I know a lot of you had a similar upbringing. Share your passed-down cheap green habits here.

*reduce/reuse/recycle, but you knew that