I *heart* the Harlot.

Like you didn't already know that, right?  Today/tonight was sooper terrific.  I'm pretty sure it'll take me days, nay, weeks (okay I might be exaggerating) to process and recover from tonight's festivities but, man, was.it.worth.it.  A quick run-down of the evening.

3:30ish

Picked up Tammany and made our way to the Barnes & Noble in Carmel.

3:45ish

Got to B&N, played with the basket o' buttons, selected one (green, woo!), and purchased the four books by the great (we're not worthy) Stephanie Pearl-McPhee that I didn't own.  I'm still not sure if I got scammed by the cashier dude (talked me into buying the B&N membership card...10% off stuff or something).

4:00ish (there was a lot of -ish going on)

Found our seats, and most will never believe that we were not the first people there...for a reading by a knitting humorist.  Seriously.

 

^first pic of the night...Tammany begins to question my mental health, I think.

4:45ish

Tam and I get in line for book signing tickets.  Again, not the first to arrive.

5:00ish

Back in our seats.  The countdown begins anew.

^These are the lovely knitters who were "lucky" enough to sit near us.  Ha.  They were indeed lovely people who put up with my strange computer photo-taking.  Love you guys, seriously.

6:00ish

Still awaiting the arrival of the Harlot.  Lots more people have arrived.  See?

^more of the wonderfully patient and obliging knitters

6:30ish

The drawing-of-the-names for door-prizes donated by Stitches & Scones.  And.....I won one of them!  Woo!  Two balls of Panda Wool in Basil Curry (#443), a ruler, a Circular Solution port-a-pocket bag, and a coupon for 15% off a purchase at SnS.  Woot!

^Ooh!  Lookit!  15% off!  Oh, the damage I could do...

^Hmm, what shall I make of this (free!) sock yarn?

^Bet you didn't know a bag could double as a hat like that.  Ha.

6:45ish

Final pictures taken of the audience.  I amused some and annoyed others, I imagine.  But, I enjoyed myself, ha!

7:00ish

Indiana freaks Stephanie out as we (finally) execute a group wave (as seen at baseball games) in her honor.  Stand-up routine follows.  Huh.Larious.  Seriously funny and clever lady.

9:00ish

Got to meet Stephanie, had wonderful conversation regarding Post-its, had all my new books signed, she worked my compy (same as hers) and got some pictures with and without the sock.

cross your fingers...i know i've got mine crossed.  can't say why just yet...but cross 'em just in case.  now excuse me while i go over there ==> to hide and mumble to myself in the corner.  thanks.

Meet Liam.

Liam Wolfgang Sebastian Plank.  Really.  What were they thinking?!  Anywho....Meet Liam.

The requisite cute, happy baby picture.

You can't understand just how much this picture brands the kid as a Moreno.  The ears, the nose (oh, the nose), and the general look of suspicion.

Yep.  He's a Moreno.

And the last....which I must admit is my favorite.

Hello, angry baby full of bitterness!  Welcome to la familia!  You'll never be able to escape!

No, seriously...

...Why am I still awake at FIVE FREAKING THIRTY IN THE MORNING.  Can someone explain, pretty please?  I've been trying to sleep for almost two and a half hours without success.  Seriously, what up with that.  Lame.  Boo.

Fin.

TasteBook=Genius

I am so beyond thrilled to have found this thing called TasteBook.

[insert imaginary screen shot here because blogger fails at life]

It's such a great idea. It is an online, build-your-own, fully customizable cookbook. You can choose the cover, the title that you put on the book, all of the recipes inside...it's awesome. It's $34.95 for the spring-apart binder (so that you can add and remove recipes) and 100 printed recipes.

Seriously. (!!!)

Recipe sources include epicurious and several popular foodie blogs (like SimplyRecipes, where I found this). You can also make custom print outs that fit in the binder of your own recipes with your own pictures and order additional recipes after purchase. Or, if you create one as a gift, you can add, say, 30 recipes and give the other 70 to the giftee to choose for themselves.

I am truly impressed with this thing...and I have a feeling that this will become the standard wedding gift. Freaking awesome, this. Folks at epicurious, I bow down to you and your genius.

A Puckin' Great Weekend.

Yes, I had a Pucking Great Weekend, well-deserving of capitalization. My mom came down to visit for the weekend because my cousin was in town playing in a hockey tournament.

Three games of hockey in 36 hours.

It. Was. AWESOME.

I had forgotten just how much I love watching hockey. The sounds of the skates cutting the ice, seeing fully grown muscular men flying after each other, even the semi-funky smells of a building-sized refrigerator. Not to mention the throw-down-the-gloves fights. Oh, yes. Especially those. Turns out I'm quite the bloodthirsty fan. Heh.

But like any good knitter--especially one practically from Canada, as Michigan is more Canadian than most will admit--I did take some yarn and sticks with me. I started a toe-up, short-rowed, plain stockinette sock using some yarn I bought from ThankEwe on Etsy in Scuba Dive. Dood, I am completely in love with this stuff. Super soft, wicked colors. And the good news is that I have three more skeins from her in different colors. Yessss.

top: photo of Scuba Dive yarn from ThankEwe's etsy listing

middle and bottom: Scuba Dive at home after the games, in the recliner

I made it all the way to the heel in three games. My mom was making fun of me (nothing new, that) because at the end of the third game, which went into sudden death overtime, I was knitting faster and faster. And then they won the game--and hence the tournament--and all was good with the world. I was kind of disappointed for a while because my cousin is a senior and had been playing Indiana University in hockey for four years and I just found that out. Seriously, I could have gone to his games! B-ton is pretty much right next door. Lame. Non-lame, though, is that he's taking the family college plan and sticking around for a fifth year. Hoorah, now that I know he'll be in town I can go to the games! I'm ridiculously excited about that, I think. And he'll also be in town over the summer with the hockey camp that he works with. But for now, his team is heading to Florida to play for the National Championship or something, and they're hoping for a three-peat. Woo, go DU! Woo, hockey! Woo, sock!

Edited to fix an overabundance of verbs. My bad.

Chivalry is dead.

Today wasn't all that remarkable, as far as days go.  That is, until I tried to leave work.

I turn off the shop lights, shut down the computer, set the alarm, lock the door, ponder the fun I will have scraping a quarter inch of ice off my windshield, walk to my parallel-parked car...and just stare at it for a while.  

Well, crap.

The lovely and thoughtful motorist driving the car in front of mine felt the overwhelming need to park their car a mere SIX AND ONE HALF INCHES FROM MINE.  (Yes, I measured.)  This might not have been a problem had the lovely and thoughtful motorist driving the car behind mine not done the same.

I'll say it again.  Crap.

So I did the logical thing and sifted through my options.

1. Wait in the store for one or both of those fine people to show up and kindly move their vehicle that I might move mine.  Nope, too much like a doormat.  I'd never forgive myself.
2. Walk home.  Nope, doable but hell...it's cold.
3. Go check at every restaurant in a two block radius for the owner and politely request that they attend to their car.  Nope, not my job, and I most assuredly would not have been polite.  And it's cold, remember?
4. Use my little Saturn to, ehrm, "redesign" the cars' bumpers to the point that I have enough room to maneuver.  Nope, while this would be oh-so-satisfying...I doubt I'd have the balls to go through with it.  Plus, in all likelihood, I'd only end up redesigning my own wee plastic car.
5. Go back in the warm store, call the police, let them tow the car, and then go home.  Yep, this is what I went with.

So, an hour after I tried to get in my car and leave, a cop shows up.  Sirens blaring and lights flashing and everything.  So the cop went and did cop things, including #3 from above.  She managed to find the Schmuck that had the bad judgement to park his car illegally behind mine.  (Did I mention he was parked illegally?  Yep, he was.)  So they come back as I'm scraping my car, which was about as much fun as I figured it would be (read: no fun at all), and it turns out that Schmuck is a Horizon league referee in town to ref the Butler Basketball game, I assume.  And the following conversation unfolded as I scraped my car:

Schmuck:  "Hey, that your car?  Young lady, that your car?"

Me:  *unbelieving stare at the ridiculous amount of belligerence in his tone*

Schmuck:  "What's your problem?!  There's plenty of room.  A little effort next time, huh?  I'm parked legally.  I don't know what your problem is.  How much room do you need?"

Me:  "Well, enough that I can actually move the car without getting your silver paint all over my bumper.  Two feet of space would be great."  

(Did I mention he drives a silver Ford Escape?  Yep.  So anytime you see a silver Ford Escape in the midwest, feel free to key it for me.)

Schmuck:  "You got two feet.  There's a foot there *gestures to the front of my car* and a foot there.  *gestures to the rear*  That's two feet."

Me, after some more staring:  "Actually, it's only 6 1/2 inches.  I measured.  Pft.  Is that the kind of judgement you use when you ref games?  No wonder you're still stuck in the Horizon league."

Schmuck, now very red in the face:  "Fine, let's go.  Move your car."

Me, not so much staring anymore as coming up with creative new uses for the extendo-windshield scraperbrush in my pissed off little hands:  "Uhm, no.  I still have to close my shop and finish scraping my car."

Schmuck:  "Are you kidding?  You had an hour to do that."

Me, beyond caring, totally losing it, and gesturing wildly with the aforementioned scraper:  "Dude, you are the one who blocked me in, wasting an hour of my life.  Yaknowhat?  You're on my time, now.  Stop complaining."

Schmuck, not taking this well:  *manly groan of frustration and contempt followed by him getting into his car, slamming the door and moving it back about 8 inches, turning it off and getting out in a very pissed off fashion*

Copper, who until this point had just been watching and being police-like:  "Sir, you're now parked illegally.  Please move your vehicle."

I cannot even begin to express how much I laughed when the po-po made the guy move his car AGAIN...and to the parking lot not 150 feet away.  

So, I finished scraping my car, closed up shop (again), and finally got home over an hour after closing time.  

Where I promptly opened a bottle of shiraz and got my drink on.  Two-buck Chuck saves the day.

Fin.