The Obligatory Blog Quiz Results.

My Bloginality is ENFP!!!

As an ENFP, you are Extroverted, iNtuitive, Feeling , Perceiving.
This makes your primary focus on Extroverted Intuition with Introverted Feeling.

This is defined as a NF personality, which is part of Carl Jung's Idealist (Identity Seeking) type, and more specifically the Champions or Inspirer.

As a weblogger, you may not be consistent in posts. (Gee, ya think?) Although, if you find a specific focus on their journal or a very flexible manner of writing, it may be more fulfilling. Because you are warm (!) and see so many possibilities in life, you may inspire others to follow in your footsteps with a journal. (Or you'll just make everyone nuts trying to figure out wtf you're all about...)

Ain't they cute?

"Fun Buns"

...Mother found them abandoned near the mailbox. In fact, she didn't know what they were, and asked me to identify them (she feared they were some kind of gopher intent on destroying her well-manicured lawn--shades of Caddyshack, indeed!) Since the weather last week was especially horrid (i.e. hotter than hell and twice as humid) I checked in on them when I went to get the mail Thursday last--only to discover that there was only one bun(-ny) left. He hopped out onto the grass, and nearly into the street! But I attempted to guide his hopping so that he'd land in the big bag of timothy hay I brought out for them to snack on (since there was no hide nor hare (ha!) of a Mama Bunny around. So I guided him into a little box with lots of hay, and we headed off to the humane society (because Miss Pearl and wild bunnies aren't a good mix).

Since this global warming thing you know, heated up, the yard is basically some kind of homeland for wild rabbits--and they're all over the place. Actually, I prefer them to opossums--they're kind of homely, and also like most everyone here, rather overweight.

Okay, bye.

A Little Passive-Aggressive Fun 'n Games

This photo was taken while Mother was totally out of it, during a recent nap. The enormous furry blue-green lumpy heart-shaped pillow was plopped in her lap, and she didn't even flinch! In fact, if nobody ever mentions it to her, she'll be none the wiser.

You know, there's something deliciously evil about knowing that anyone in the world with time to waste and a decent connection can see this...

N.B.: The pillow was eventually given to our dear friend Fredericka, who is well into her 90s, and appreciates the sentiment behind the gift, if not it's lumpy, furry splendor. She (unlike Yours Truly), has a very kind heart to go with her new pillow.

Gable in Iced Orchid

This is my version of the pattern 'Green Gable.' As you can see, it's in no way green. Instead, I chose a lovely shade of pink (No. 1086) in KFI's King Tut (I liked the sheen). Sadly, the pattern stopped just short of meeting the needs of my 'full-figured boobs,' so I was forced to do a bit of math to enlarge it accordingly. Hopefully my alterations will allow for a tasteful adaptation to my massive melons(?) while diminishing the prominence of my gut. If not, I'll just suck in a lot while wearing it.

It's my goal to finish this thing before the end of this year. Wish me luck.

The Story of "Armando's" Anal-Retentive Bike Tour & Hygiene Festival

So...Thursday evening rolls around, just like it does every week, and I decide to go to String of Purls for a little SnB. And on this particular occasion, I decide to park myself near This Lady (whom I promised not to name because I'm about to repeat this tripped-out story about her husband, and this thing he did during a recent cycling trip in Colorado...)

It's laid out like this:

This totally would have simplified things
more than we'll ever know.

Her husband, whom I will refer to as 'Armando' (because I like that name) was on this crazy long, intensive cycling trip and had pedalled his way to Telluride, where there was nary a laudromat to be found. The nearest town with such facilities was 50 miles away, and a very mountainous 50 miles, at that. So he got the idea to shower with his clothes on, so he could get a two-fer (you know, scrub himself down, as well as his gear).

I found this to be uproariously funny, yet anal-retentive as all get out.

So that's why I'm posting it here. I told The Lady I was going to out her husband and his goofy little story here on my blog, but that was like three weeks ago...(hey, I been real busy). Just so I don't come across as a complete liar, I'm posting it late. Actually, the real reason I'm posting it so late, is because I've been depressed as hell, which is what happens whenever I get trapped in the reddest of the red states on earth (that would be here, for those of you who aren't already hip).

Okay, well, it's past my suppertime, so I gots ta go now....

One,
- D.

P.S. If you want real names and identities, I'm open to bribery. Especially if it involves yarn...try me!

Meanwhile...

In an effort to cheer myself up, here's a photo of Eva Longoria, sans maquillage:
There now. Don't you feel better? I know I do.

Holla!

Pissed off; and yet...

Some things defy regulation, doncha think?

...I have managed to get stuck in this bucolic hellhole yet again.

When I'm able to circumvent the ultra-bland force field that has sucked all the chi from my very being, I'll tell you exactly how this travesty began. As for now, send positive, healing thoughts my way, because I seem to have racked up a veritable shitload of bad-travel karma, come of late.

And Mona, not-to-worry. I have your Mountain Colors Bearfoot in Mountain Tango, and Joe sends his regards. For real.

I kind of like this one.

Exotic Dancer Name Is...

Felony

Exotic Dancer Name Generator

Time for me to go now...

You know, I've been in Omaha for approximately three weeks, and apathy has already set in. I'd post more, but in all honesty, I'm not hyped.

My knitting continues (okay, mostly ripping out stuff I've attempted to knit), I managed to get devoured by any number of biting insects in places I can't begin to scratch in public, and my Mother is still able to get on my last nerve, even while she's asleep (as she has mastered the art of whining while snoring while farting and flopping about restlessly like a dying fish). I've developed some kind of weird addiction to Arby's Sourdough Ham & Cheese Melts (mostly because they're not fried and they're cheap), and as if this place isn't already repressive enough, the town is overrun by Britney Spears wannabees serving as groupies for the shitload of baseball players here for the annual College World Series. Once upon a time, baseball used to be fun for me to watch, however in my middle-age, my patience for sweaty, drunken midwesternerers and their slack-jawed offspring has essentially evaporated. They're all so "wholesome" and oozing with how-do-you-say, "family-values" it's enough to induce projectile vomiting. (I hate them so much, right now...)

That's about all for my rant--now, I have to go strip down and commence to scratching like a baboon. The only calamine lotion in the house is so old, it doesn't even have a UPC code on the bottle. You think that stuff goes bad after say, 17 years?

Wish me luck...ciao fo' now.

Do I Make You Proud...?

I adore CanCon as much as the next person. But this makes me positively burst with pride!

Just make sure you have your speakers on, and for gawd's sake, don't even think about checking this out at work.

Thank you.

She's back...(see?)

Obligatory Knitting Content
featuring The Back of My Head

Finally, I have arrived in the land of Berkshire-Hathaway. I got here Monday, however, I've been too wasted to post until now. Big ups to everyone in my knitting posses who sent warm wishes and words of encouragement--they are greatly appreciated.

Tuesday, I presented the knitters at Mangelsen's with cheap-ass loonie candy from Dollarama, and a shitload of Coffee Crisp (I think they liked it, Mikey)! Who knew?

...At first I thought it just said R.I.P.

Thursday, I reconnected with the gang (and I use that term in the least violent way possible) at String of Purls. Carin, the official Nurse of our weekly SnB's, presented me with this incredibly charming-yet-practical baby sock that doubles as a stich marker holder (and inside were five of the cutest stitch markers that matched, no less)! How crafty is that shit? Color me amazed.

Lorna (who is abnormally thoughtful) brought a big ol' bag of scones, freshly baked by her sister. Naturally, I took the few leftovers home. Mother attempted to steal them, but I caught her during one of her rooting episodes and managed to get them away from her. And here's the deal--if you take the fragments at the bottom of the bag and put them in a bowl with a dollop of butter and a few squirts of honey, they taste great after you nuke 'em for a few secs. Try it--you'll like it.

Dead Folks doing what they do best.

The annual Death Tour has been split into fragments, due to the incredibly ginormous monkey wrench the Ass Clowns threw into our travel plans. Monday, I went from Lachine at 6h to Hiawatha, Kansas at 18h, then back to Omaja by 21h. We got back just before the thunder and lightning started . But I managed to get in a few pics for your viewing pleasure.

Miss Pearl the guinea pig is doing well, and I look forward to visiting relatives from whom I've begged favors while I was away. Right now however, I'm sigining off, as it's time for me to begin the semi-regular ritual of cramps, bloating, and what Madison Avenue euphemistically once called "The Joy of Being A Woman."

Analgesics are always welcome.

Shalom, y'all.

Okay, I think I can type now...

This is the short version, because I'm still suffering from PTSD when I try to discuss the whole debacle:

• AC (which now stands for Ass Clowns) finally deliered my bags chez moi.
• This, after they lost them IN DORVAL AT THE GODDAMN AIRPORT for three days!!
• I will attempt to make an appearance in Omaja, beginning Monday.
• Hopefully I will get to knit with my beloved knitting friends soon, because
• MY NERVES CAN'T DEAL WITH THIS SHIT MUCH LONGER.
  

And thank you so much, for voting for Taylor. It is the single bright spot in my PMS-laden, menopausal, mentally disturbed world.

And Now, For A Public Service Announcement:

Air Canada
You Suck.
(a lot!!)
we now return you to your regularly scheduled surfing...

Unfinished Bidness...(ongoing, anyway).

Okay, I'm annoyed to the max that Sympatico has cut my DSL connection for reasons that nobody (here or there) seems to know. This means I am struggling through the long holiday weekend on dial-up of all things! This sucks to the utmost, and I hate it a lot.

You see, another one of my knitting friends needs to have her blog hyped to the max, so I had planned to do this with lots of graphics, some shockwave, and a link to some porn site. Sadly, the entire mess with my ISP has pretty much made that an exercise in futility. Therefore, I present to you, the stripped-down, quick and dirty version of hype, Deawn-style:

Read This Blog!
It's So Fabulous...

Usually, people that accomplished don't cop to knowing me, much less show kindness to a disturbed, shiftless, hypertensive diva such as Yours Truly. But that just goes to show what a beautiful person she is, inside and out.

Guess I'll close for now, but first, allow me to grovel for a favor that could prove bloody inconvenient for all involved. Just my luck, I'll be in Chi-town right at the time that the final episode of American Idol airs! Now, you know I'm not really into that sort of thing, but I am completely into Taylor Hicks, the Ultimate Showman with Geek Style Extraordinaire. So, if anybody out there wants to tape Wednesday evening's show for me, I'd be so grateful, that I would consider compensation in monetary or yarnish form. Please advise.

And don't forget. Vote for Taylor--early and often.

Thank you.

So fibertastic.

Those of you wondering what kind of fiber-filled fun I engage in while trapped in Omaha(ha-ha-ha-ha), need not wait any longer. I present for your perusal, scenes of crochetin', knittin', spinnin', and grinnin'.

Mica models her masterpiece
Chez Mangelsen's

Would you belive Mica's shrug began as a tablecloth? Her exquisite artistic vision morphed it into a shrug. Lily Chin really must step aside--Mica is the world's fastest crocheter!

Minnie socks it to us, baby.

Minnie is examining ways of turning her passion for spinning (and knitting) into a cottage industry. Read all about it (and so much more) at her blog, Muses of a Dragon Mad Knitter.

Carin appears as "The Spinning Nurse"
featuring Jen's Spinning Wheel

Carin has recently discovered the "Joy of Spinning" and relaxes by knitting stuff, furnishing her new home, yet still manages to work tirelessly as the unofficial Florence Nightengale of String of Purl's Sit & Knit on Thursdays. Read about it on her blog, Keeping Me In Stitches.

Although I'm missing a visual, I encourage you to browse by Erin's blog Titanium Rose. She's cool, it's cool, and I'd be ever so remiss if I didn't mention it.

So there you have it. A brief glimpse of some of the knitters I've met during my exile. Think of it as a really long virtual fiber that connects us all through cyberspace.

Can you dig it? ...I knew that you could.

More later, and remember: Vote for Taylor .

I'm all the way in the Soul Patrol, y'all.

You have simply GOT to cheer for this guy, even if you don't bother with that whole American Idol mishegoss. The only reason I got caught up in it is because my mother insisted upon watching it, and well--I love a good train wreck. But the fact is, since the very beginning,when we saw this spastic white guy (with a luscious gray mane), trying to resurrect Brotha Ray, we took notice. I mean, he's got this voice that shouldn't come outta that body, and for a change, we agreed on something, Mummy and I--and that is, this guy is effing out there! I mean, he's straight up spastic. Yet it doesn't matter, because he's having a real good time on stage. But most of all, he's talented, as well. And that really ought to count for something. (Especially since Mandisa and Paris ain't on there no more).

The thing that nailed it for me is that this guy has two pet goldfish named Lamont and Ray. The Pisces in me loves that they have their own blog. The outcast in me appreciates just how weird that is for a grown man to do, but he goes on ahead and does it anyway. That shows he hasn't totally gone big time, and recognizes the beauty in all creatures, great and small, if you get my drift (sorry...I couldn't resist).

Oh sure, Katharine was positively killer with her rendition of "Over The Rainbow." But when you consider how week after week, Mista T always managed to bring it, even when they made him sing a song that wasn't of his own choosing at the last minute ("Just Once"). What a trooper!

Therefore, I expect all of you South o' The Border to do the righteous thing, and make sure Taylor wins the entire shit.

Any questions? (I din't think so...)

Bad place to take a vacation...

...and you wouldn't want to have to spend your winters there, either. As for those of us who do, read more about it, right here:

I took this picture one day while killing time (sorry) before contemplating a visit to the gym. I had just finished this entormous, cholesterol-laden sandwich when it occurred to me that his has got to look strange to people from outside the area. Dig it-- What's more, someone actually had the bright idea to make an entire burial ground for butterflies. What's more, whoever made the sign can't spell for shit, because they inadvertantly added an extra 'i' when hammering out the authentic wrought iron. So I wiped my greasy mouth, and snapped a photo for all the world to see. If you look carefully, you can see the red and white 'KENO' sign in the lower section. What better spot for an insect burial ground than the back yard of a keno parlor! (Who needs city planning anyway?)

See? Omaha really is a 'No Fun Allowed' Zone!

As if that wasn't enough to completely blow your mind, I decided to take this picture, while waiting for something (anything, really) to happen, across the street from La Casa de los Muertos. After 6 in the evening, you can loiter, scratch, fence stolen property, and purchase drugs to your heart's delight. But during normal business hours, don't even think about it! (You've been warned).

But here's the good news--four of my five boxes shipped have arrived, as of this posting. I expect to get the last one today (or tomorrow, since the mail dude only bothers to deliver mail three days out of the week). Something tells me I'm damn lucky to get stuff that often, since he doesn't appear to be the sharpest tool in the shed. More news as it develops...stay tuned.

Ben voyons donç !

(If I actually said that in France,
they'd have yet another reason
to wonder why 'I talk funny...')

Your Inner European is French!

Smart and sophisticated. You have the best of everything - at least, *you* think so.

Who's Your Inner European?

Useful Things.

During my exile, I tried knitting a necktie with self-striping sock yarn.

I failed miserably.

My hands/arms/elbow/shoulder/neck got sore from trying to wield the ultra-unwieldy size 2.75 mm needles, and what's more, my vision limitations meant I couldn't see fuck all!

What to do, what to do...

Turn the half-assed Piece-O-Shit into Something Practical, that's what! (Despite my scorn toward all things in America's Heartland, I have to admit, my innate Midwestern practicality remains within, not unlike my ongoing battle of the bulge; but I digress...)

As perimenopause transforms rapidly into full-blown menopause, I find myself needing more and more little pouches to shlepp around in my purse for various and sundry ephemera, e.g.:

A great way to eliminate wrapper fatigue!

High-tech protection!

Sometimes you have to double-bag it.

But then, you never know...

When the flood gates open, it expands!

And finally,

Relief from those pesky hot flashes!

I was going to include a photo of my self-striping pouch holding my digital camera, but since I was using it to take the picture, I gave up on that. Sure, I could have used my phone to snap a pic, but I can't remember where I stuck my phone's USB cable. (It's around here somewhere, but then hell, what isn't??)

Okay, well...that's all for now. Peace.

Finally! A Quiz That's Timely (but still a bit inaccurate)

You are Bettie Page

Girl next door with a wild streak You're a famous beauty - with unique look And the people like you are cultish about it

What Famous Pinup Are You?