My brain works in a circle! I can knit in the round, on double pointed needles, evenly or unevenly dividing stitches between three or four needles, manipulating them with ease! I can write patterns! I can see designs unfolding, and I can adjust on the go! I can make things in 3D! I can at least make tubes, or tubesque shaped items of interest. Like wrist warmers!
Ch-ch-check it, check it, check it out!
Holy Fucking Awesome Batman!
I call them Lettuce Flower Wristwarmers. I’m not completely happy with the flower on the back of the hand there…
slightly uneven
But I can fix it with one more yarn over and by making it just a bit tighter. I even figured out thumbholes! I am very, very excited, and you can expect to see more of these soon!
Alright, so haven’t just been scurrying around painting and renovating secretly. I have been knitting!
I suffered a bit of a setback with a rather dumbass move a few weekends ago. I had been scrubbing the kitchen with Vim and got down to the sink and stove. I reached into the sink before realizing the stovetop would be a better choice – it would dirty the sink after all. Right, I’m so clever. So I reached over to pick up the heavy metal burners of my gas stove – forgetting of course that not one minute prior, said stove was my primary source of heat in this less-than-insulated box. Ohmyfuck, hot ! It took nearly 30 minutes for the nauseating pain to go away. 20 minutes later there was no feeling at all, and it turns out that the little spot on my finger is not so much burned as cooked.
Ow! Ow! Fuckity! Ow!
Yeah, gross. I nearly puked again.
The not particularly awesome healing process has hindered me quite a bit. It’s been two weeks and only just healed enough to pick up any knitting. I didn’t entirely waste my time, although I have watched more t.v. this month than anytime in the past year or so. I brushed up on some new knitting techniques and bam! I can knit in the round on double pointed needles now. I found a tres terrific green yarn that perfectly matches a pashmina I wear. I’ve even given a hand at writing my own pattern. Turns out my brain can wrap itself around a pattern much more easily when there’s no need to worry about the wrong side. If all goes well, I should be able to finish at least one tomorrow.
This means faster project turnout, very exciting!
Anyways, here’s a few scarves I managed to get done before branding myself.
Greycicle
I really like this scarf, and it was easy to make. The yarn is pretty fun, there’s a white version as well that I’m going to knit up into a scarf named Icicle (Is it bizarre that I name my scarves? Probably not considering my favourite rabbit is Finnegan Cabbage Esq., and his offspring were Hannibal and Brutus. I like naming things. Don’t even get me started on baby names.) This is a greyer version of that yarn, hence Greysicle.
Gypsy Scarf
I like how this scarf looks in this picture, but it’s a little washed out with the sun. This is a better representation of the colour.
looks like this
It’s really light and meshy, but long enough that you can wrap it around enough to be warm. The twisted drop stitch is responsible for the meshiness, as well as the fact that I used needles slightly larger than the gauge of the yarn. I used the same technique on this last one.
Peasant Scarf
I finished this number at May’s house, hence the fabulous photo-op. Anyways, as per usual these are available for sale. If you’re interested, just hit me up in the comment section. As for me, I’m off to whip up a fabulous pair of wrist warmers, or ‘pulse warmers’ technically since I haven’t mastered a thumbhole yet (I just figured this out yesterday, give me a break!) If I can figure out a ruffly finish I’ll be set to start putting some up on the e-shelves ASAP.
Okay, this is when I start getting really sick and tired of the snow.
It’s post-Christmas, post-New Years, and Josh and I aren’t doing anything for Valentines (It’s a Saturday this year, he’s in jail on weekends, it’s kind of hard to celebrate these holidays long distance unless you ship gifts, we’d rather save the money, and it’s a retarded Hallmark holiday anyways.) Any excitement that may have come with the first snow of the season is now long gone, replaced with “OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD AND ALL THAT IS HOLY, WHY?!?!? WHY MORE SNOW?!?!?”
There was a massive power out in Toronto last Thursday/Friday covering most of the west end of the city. I’m smack ass in the middle of this ginormous area, and yet not only did I retain power, I had wireless internet. Some poor schmuck in my vicinity is apparently not too concerned with how secure his connection is. Sweetbombs, I totally rule.
Or not.
Saturday rolls around, and my apartment is as cold as all the witches teat, mother in law, puritan housewife, and any other frigid jokes you can think of combined. So I plug in my electric heater. It roars along nicely until I also get hungry and zap a bit of leftovers in the microwave. The only thing I zap is my breakers. Out go the lights. Out goes the heat. And outside, it is a blizzard. I call the guy who lives across the hall from me, he’s normally the dude to handle this type of everyday snafu. But he doesn’t answer, and I’ve been seeing his mail pile up. He’s not there, and won’t be any time soon.
Oh crap, I’ve got to call my landlords. I hate having to call my landlords. I’m sure they’re very nice, but I can never understand their heavy accents. This makes communication very difficult, and for a neurotic second-guessing ball of nerves such as myself, when I can’t communicate with someone it freaks me out. You can only say “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that” so many times before you have to start guessing and worrying about saying something totally stupid. We’ve all seen a hilarious episode of Seinfeld, I’m sure. And I’m sure it’s hilarious if you’re a nasally comedian.
I also really don’t like having people in my space. It’s a small space, and I haven’t done too much to liven it up, but there are as many touches of me as I can work into such a tiny, temporary place. The dresser I dragged up the stairs, the trunk rescued from the curb, the plants I coddle, and of course, the rabbits. It’s my itty bitty world, and when people I don’t know or like are in it, it’s an unwelcome intrusion. And not just for those few minutes. If someone bumps your arm it doesn’t hurt, but it bugs you right? Visitors can bump my day; it will irritate me to the point of all day pissiness to have an unwelcome body in my home.
I also have a ridiculous fear of getting kicked out of my apartment. It’s mostly unfounded, but not completely so. You see –
1) It’s so cheap it’s retarded, and I’m convinced that the landlords will one day realize that they may not be able to raise my rent 80%, but they could sure jack it up for a new tenant.
2) I had a few checks bounce once upon a time. Like four. That was a rough year.
3) There were a few loud/messy roomies what seems like eons ago. Same rough year, only one of them paid rent.
4) I stole a garbage can from the not-foyer, which is what I’d like the call the two foot space between the front door and the winding magenta stairs. I was poor, lazy, the roomie was messy, I needed a bigger garbage can and some fucker was keeping not-rinsed wine bottles in there. Sure, someone left bottles outside my door for a week, but I still have that garbage can!
5) I’ve had way more pets than is necessary and/or healthy, and while I’ve done much improvement, there are still telltale signs. Like chewed walls.
6) Oh, and I sort of half reno’d and then half reno’d back what I’m sure was intended to be a bedroom and is instead…well, I’ve got a dust pile in there that I was planning on sweeping up sometime this week.
Anyway this was mostly years ago, but I still feel particularly unliked, like they’d be happy to get rid of me if they had half an excuse. I’ve read the books and there are plenty of loopholes to get rid of a tenant if you really want, especially in smaller buildings. I’m pretty sure that the chewed up walls could be the final straw for anyone wanting someone out of their highly coveted property.
So the landlord is on his way down from way north of the city, and I’m sure he’s going to knock on my door to see if everything is okay and notice the –
1) Chewed up patches on the walls.
2) Missing floor tiles (sure they come up pretty easily, but so do hangnails and pantyhose runs – I pick at both.)
3) The horrible state of the windows due to the old and cracking sealant that I really should have had him replace but would rather ignore.
4) The scent of what one could guess as a handful of bunnies, really only two bunnies just very close to the door (and on the day before litter cleaning day.)
5) A ridiculous amount of wiring very obviously responsible for his 45 minute trip into the city (I’m sorry, I live on the internet!)
6) The seriously, seriously gross bathroom walls. I take super hot showers, there is no fan, and the bathroom door has to be closed when it’s dark (otherwise a small, vaguely Asian ambisexual child will come get me because I’ve seen way too many movies and my brain forgets to forget.) Sure, I could alter any of these factors if I really cared about the state of the walls. But I don’t, I only care about someone else seeing them.
Right, except the landlord is on the way. Like now. Shit, shit, shit. Panic, panic, panic. I’m gonna get evicted if for no other reason than I’m a ridiculous neurotic moron pacing around her cold, dark apartment worrying about pissing off someone who should have fixed the damn windows and ventilated the damn bathroom before I moved in. I will be so glad when I have Josh around to –
1) Stop me from being so ridiculous.
2) Keep the house in good condition in the first place .
3) Provide ample sexy times.
4) An assortment of other fun past times
So what seems like hours of standing and spinning later, the lights pop back on and there is an inevitable knock at the door. I do the foot-half-out door-blocking shuffle and thank my stolen garbge can full of candy wrappers that my hips have gotten a little wider as of late. There’s the initial “oh thank you” and “oh, yes, so funny this situation, sorry I made you drive 45 minutes in a blizzard but it’s kind of not my fault.” I’m pretty sure he told me not to run my coffeemaker and my toaster at the same time. (I don’t have a coffeemaker.) Some chitchat about how the tenant who is away should have his mail taken care of, and then “okay, yeah, I’ll call if it goes out again, yeah, safe drive now, okay, yeah bye, yep I can still see you on the next landing down, okay byyyyye!”
I don’t think he noticed the walls or floor. But as soon as he left I painted over every chewed patch in the place and a good chunk of the bathroom as well. Yeah, just pulled that can of paint right out of the closet with the brush right next to it, just where I’ve left it every weekend for months. And then on Sunday I mopped the melted paint off the bathroom floor (right, the humidity in there, hence the state of the walls in the first place) repainted, and set up my rotating fan to dry it. Then I made a trip to Canadian Tire where they didn’t have peel n’ stick floor tiles, and a trip to Honest Ed’s where they didn’t have them either. But they did have caulking guns and caulk, and yes my hands are sore.
*pause for laughter*
Sooooo. Yeah. That’s how I spent my Sunday. Next Sunday will be spent recaulking the windows after I dry them properly. *ahem* And these things will henceforth be Josh’s job. Oh, and floors. I really need floors.
So, am I totally nuts for spending a day fixing shit instead of calling my landlord and having him unintentionally ruin my day? Or for spending not really a lot of money occupying myself while the man is away and making my place at least a little bit nicer? Maybe. But even if all I did was take something that’s totally falling apart and make it pretty enough to stand while it continues to fall apart until after I move out and someone else has to deal with what’s growing under the paint, well at least I don’t have to deal with it.
Oh great, it’s snowing AGAIN. Stupid snow. I’d say at least I’m moving to North Carolina, but guess what? It’s due to snow there too. Bah post-holiday humbug!
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go finish peeling caulk off my windows.
Okay, okay, I’ve dragged it out long enough. A crafty update for you people, my flavourite flavours of the internet. Yes, a fish related crafty update.
Ta-da!
Fish scarf! Fish scarf!
It’s a FISH SCARF!!! Or to be more correct, a fish tail scarf! I figured out this nifty little piece all by myself. Now I’ve got to figure out a wave pattern to connect the two tail ends, the one I’ve got right now stretches out too much and just looks straight once you wear it a bit. If I can figure out how to get some beadwork going on here too, that’ll be even better!
Woo exciting! Now I want to make a seaweed scarf and maybe a flower scarf and all kinds of fun shaped scarves.
I’ve got a few other things to show you too, and more fun pictures from Christmas, but right now my apartment is freeeeeezing and I’m hungry so I’ll say a quick adieu and see you peeps later.
Hey there my jolly little ho ho ho’s, this is Josh, the lesser seen coauthor of 800 Miles. I’m here to do a little collaborative XXX-mas recap with uh, stories, and … pictures I guess. Lot’s of recappery and what have you. And if you have a problem with a Christmas post in the middle of January, kiss my pearly white ass, we have stuff going on, and real lives tend to interfere with bloggin.
Let me briefly tell my Christmas experience, and then we’ll ask Emerald how it went down with her. I spent Christmas eve with my family, and my grandparents came over. We did all our gift exchanging then, cause Christmas day is always so hectic. (Hectic means they now have accepted that I like to get drunk with my brother and hate family functions.) I got money mostly, and some weird knick knacks, none worth mentioning really. After that we watched Prince Caspian, which is a really cool movie for my family cause my mom used to read the Chronicles of Narnia to us over and over when we were just little kids. It was done pretty well, not awesome, but pretty good. I can’t wait for the Voyage of the Dawntreader.
Then me and my brother and sister in law all headed over to Nate and Sami’s house and got drunked up. LP was house sitting for one of his friends, so he borrowed his Xbox 360 and brought it over. I got him Gears of War and Fallout 3, but he hadn’t gotten his game console yet, it was coming in a week or so. Then we pretty much just sat around and drank beer and tequila sunrises blowing up mutant alien things for a few days. It was a pretty awesome Christmas. Also, Nate introduced me to a game called Combat Arms. It’s a multiplayer online FPS with modern warfare, and it’s free, as in, you don’t have to pay ANY money at all to download or play it, so that pretty much rocks. If I had made a new years resolution to become a gaming junkie and spend waaaaaaay too much time doing geeky shit like playing on the same team as my brother and kicking n00b ass, then I would be doing very well for the year indeed.
(Emerald will henceforth be in italics.)
I spent Christmas eve at May’s house. I figure this is going to be my last Christmas in Canada for a bit, and it seems kind of pointless if there aren’t kids around to be excited by Santa. So Talea and I went there and hung out with the kids and exchanged gifts. Talea got a fun set of wrist warmers from May, and I got a knitted pair of socks although May hadn’t finished them yet. I got them this weekend. Talea knitted May and apron that she also just finished, and it’s super cute. We got the kids some cool stuff too, though the funnest part for me were these customized Santa videos I did up for the kids. You just go to this link and type in the names, age, blah blah blah and it creates a video of Santa talking to you. It was fun times. Christmas morning I woke up by myself and enjoyed a quiet morning with a nice view and an awesome breakfast. I made eggs on English muffins with hollondaise sauce, and I forgot the orange juice part of my mimosa idea, so I just drank a bottle of champagne.
Christmas Breakfast - Giggity
View from the back window - South!
Well that’s really the important part anyway.
Ha, totally. I was very okay with it.
Why do you think Santa was so jolly, and Rudolph’s nose was so red?
Because Mrs Clause bitches a lot? Anyways, I didn’t see my actual family until boxing day. Thats because every year we all rush out to the suburbs for this big noisy affair that I’m tired of pretending to care about. Apparently it was very nice this year because my grandparents have moved to Quebec. My grandmother is totally awesome and everything, but, well….she has her charms.
Heh, lucky charms?
Well, did I ever tell you about the time my grandfather broke his arm?
No. The word charms just makes me think of three lesbian hottie witches eating cereal off of each other.
Right. Well, he was a maitre d’ at the Royal York here in Toronto for almost 50 years. One day years and years ago, he was training a new guy who I guess didn’t like his style or whatever. They got in a fight and my grandfather ended up with a broken arm. Which is a big deal because back then it meant he couldn’t work, and a righteous pain in the ass for my grandmother with a bunch of kids to feed.
Don’t you guys have like, free mansions for people who break their arms and stuff? Isn’t that how Canada works?
Not back then. So not that it accomplishes much, but every night until he could go back to work, she would go down to the hotel and wait for the guy that broke her husbands arm. And every night, before letting him pass out the door to leave, she would get right up in his grill and say “If you touch my husband again I’m going to kill you dead, you sonofabitch.” Every night, for weeks she would tell him every night she was going to kill him until the kid finally quit. Ha, I love my grandma, but anyways, she can be feisty and well, noisy. But I did call her on Christmas and I sent her some picture frames that she really liked. Anyways, I got mostly money from my dad and stepmom, and her parents were over for a visit as well. Then my mom picked me up and we went to her mothers for dinner. She has a nice house backing onto a sweet park. Mom got me mostly yoga related stuff.
Backyard
Wishin’, and hopin’, and thinkin’, and prayin’.
Um, what?
Sorry, it just came on Pandora Radio.
Haha, loser. That’s okay, I listen to Journey.
You’re the loser, I’m totally rockin out to Dusty Springfield, beyotch. Journey is good though, better than those Rush assholes.
Whatever, it’s not my fault that lame ass DJ down there keeps overplaying them in awe of their genius or whatevs. Anyways, that’s pretty much what I did for Christmas, and I’ve been sick most of the time since then.
Sure, we’ll go with that. So anything else for your Christmas story?
Well of course there’s our Christmas. 😉 Even though we did celebrate it about a week late.
Right right, and I think we should tell the people about that right now, how about in the order they were opened?
Ooh, good idea. Who went first? I think you did.
Um, well you got some yarn from my mom right? And then my folks got some candles or something from you. (My folks opened the box for ME while I was in jail without my permission, so technically they opened their presents first and should come first on this list)
Oh right, the yarn! That’s awesome. Your mom sent me a box of yarn for Christmas, with two skeins of each type, which is perfect for most of my projects. And I sent your parents candles and a lavender scent satchel thingie from an organic store called Pistachio.
And convenient, because I can never remember the word skein, but I can remember the word stien, so I just say that and you know what I mean.
Whatever works for you. I don’t expect you to care about my knitting projects. 😉
I totally do care, but in a man way. I try and show interest, anyway, I think I opened the Guk sauce first then. The Guk sauce is some kind of Canadian concoction, a real arctic witches brew for burgers and what not. it tastes pretty good, kind of like thousand island dressing, but more tangy and with something else I couldn’t quite place. The thing that really got me, the label is hilarious. First the company name is Licks, the most sexual company name since Dick’s. Also, it says “Canadian Eh” down at the bottom. And It also makes a big deal out of having no trans fatty acids, when it’s basically glorified mayo, the most unhealthy of all sauces.
Mmmmm...guk
Haha you have Dick’s we have Licks. (Put em together, hey-oh!) Oh yeah, we’re on a super health kick in Canada.
I think the first thing I opened from you was the bikini and the t-shirt. We’ll have to cut and sexify the shirt though, cause you can’t wear something that says ‘Honky Tonk Badonkadonk without having it show off your boobage.
I think Josh wants me to dress like this...
Yeah, absolutely, I love the cleavage. But unfortunately at Mule Day’s they only have one size, and that’s fat.
Haha, yeah. See, if you avoid those trans fatty acids… The bikini is awesome, but that will be for indoors only. 😉
Ummmmm....
I still don’t get that. I think you look banging in the bikini. I mean bikini’s are supposed to be revealing and sexy right?
Yeah, but generally speaking only very fit people wear them outdoors. It’s this modesty thing that I frankly wish more girls had. I don’t want to see jigglage, and I’m sure nobody but you wants to see mine.
You might be surprised, and I for one am proud to show off my fine ass woman’s body, but whatever makes you feel comfortable. You can wear a one piece or whatever. As long as I get to see you in the rebel flag two piece. (Thrusts pelvis and makes obscene facial gestures.)
I do not wear bathing suits generally speaking, mostly cause I don’t go swimming generally speaking. It’s rather pointless when you’re half blind. But I will wear the top around the house in jeans and you can take advantage of whatever situation you wish. 😉
Next you can see I opened my two new shirts. These are SO me, it’s unbelievable. They are fairly self explanatory, but for anyone who doesn’t know, I would say 99% of my wardrobe consists of t-shirts with some kind of comedy printed on the front. What can I say, rednecks like shirts you can laugh at.
That's MY Captain Awesome!
heheheh...
I think cool people like shirts you can laugh at, they’re definitely part of the trendy scene hipster life up here. Are you listening to Bon Jovi?
I am NOT a hipster, for the record. And yes I am listening to Bon Jovi.
I know, hence the Bon Jovi. 😛 I’m only teasing, I bought a copy of Slippery When Wet back in the day.
Emerald, I’ve been shot through the heart,and you’re too late. Darlin, you give love, a boner! Mwahahahahahahaha!
I thought it was “and you’re to blame,” but I won’t admit to reading lyrics, so I won’t argue.
You give love a bad name, except you don’t really, so it’s a boner now.
No, I meant “and you’re too late” should be “and you’re to blame” (Em was right)
Okay, so the next thing I opened took me another week at actually open because it was a frigging alligator head.
seriously, wtf?
Yeah, that alligator head cracked me up. Nothing says I love you like sending a decapitated animal head to your vegetarian girlfriend. I laughed so hard.
I bet you did. Jerk. It was funny though. I’ve got it on my bookshelf now. It’s name is Larry.
Larry huh? Like the pickle?
I don’t know of a pickle named Larry, but I figure it goes well with Snippy the Squirrel and Wally the Garden Gnome. Larry the Decapitated Alligator.
Next up I opened the first season of the Office, which is not going to do anything but drastically increase my “that’s what she said” usage. I am sure I will thoroughly enjoy it, because I really like the characters, and Pam’s face/sexyness. Speaking of which, I wonder if there’s any rule 34 for Pam from the office. I’m hesitant to look it up for fear of finding some rule 34 for Dwight instead.
That's what she said
I would be incredibly surprised if there wasn’t one for each of them.
Turns out there are sexy pics of Jenna Fischer. Here, here, and here, and a lookalike here, but no full fledged fake Jenna Fischer porn to be found with a brief search. I will look harder next time. 4chan needs a search option.
Next I opened up the locket you got me, which I love to death.
Awwwwwww
Yeah, and I found it really adorable, but also funny as hell because your reaction was just so intrinsically female. I knew it would strike that feminine romance and emotion chord with you, but I never in a million years would have considered that it could be an heirloom, and you were all over that right away.
Well duh, that’s what us girls do. I can be extra girly at times. Besides, everyone around me is getting married and having kids, so I’m a little more extra girly than usual. And that’s like prime heirloom material, the first piece of jewelry you got me, for our first Christmas together. I think it’s sweet.
I thought it was sweet too, in fact I was counting on it. People think guys just pick gifts haphazardly, but we really do put thought into your reactions to them. That would have been guaranteed poon had we been celebrating together.
I’m sure our readers are thankful for that mental picture.
I’m sure they are, Merry Christmas everyone!
Next I got a bad ass razor thingy. It’s got like, twelve billion blades, and one on the side for detail trim work, and a hair trimmer on the end, and it pretty much rocks my balls off. I had been shaving with this archaic Mach3 Turbo, (stupid three blades is stupid) that I had run out of blades for three months ago, and so it was pretty much just scraping the hair off, and when I went to shave with the new one, well let’s just say it didn’t feel like I shaved anything, but my face totally felt like a really really, extra soft babies ass, made of chiseled iron of course.
I’m glad you like it. Next from you I got an iHome. It’s so awesome, I brought it to work so I can have Jazz Day at my desk.
Super Bad Ass
Yeah, I thought it was really bad ass, and it’s the kind of gift I would get myself, so I know it totally rocks. Plus I imagine that it’s really really loud, but I didn’t try it out because at that point I did not have an iPod. I guess your work is a little different than mine though. We play System of a Down and David Allen Co. at top volume, you have quiet jazz day so as not to bother your clients or coworkers.
Yeah, I already pissed my boss off once playing opera too loudly while he was on the phone. I didn’t realize at first that when you turn it on it starts quietly and turns up gradually. So I had cranked the volume and then left my desk. Ooops. That’s what happens when I don’t read manuals. Speaking of work, I got a lot of rad stuff from clients too. Especially chocolate, I’m going to do a post just on chocolate. I would say most of my holidays were spent knitting and eating chocolate.
My desk! I'm busy and important!
That's what I'm talkin' 'bout, Willis.
Fuck him, next Christmas we can get him a sense of humor. We purposely do loud and sexual things when my boss answers the phone.
My boss has a plenty good sense of humour. His bosses, not so much
Yeah same here, they got mad at us for bringing a playstation to work. We didn’t get rid of it or anything, but they weren’t happy.
And last of all, I opened the gift that Jesus sent to me. An iPod shuffle. Did you know those things are smaller than a matchbox? For reals for reals! My last MP3 player was cool and all, but it was kind of huge, imagine something between a tricorder and an eighties cell phone. This one is sleek and sexy, and it even makes my dick look big. I’m totally going to be iPod shuffling all over the place. Congratulations Apple, you finally impressed me with one of your devices.
w00t! iPod!
Haha, I was totally worried you’d find baby blue unmanly.
No way man, techno gadgets are totally manly, and Blue is a guy color. Besides it’s so small I can just hide it in my chub rub or something, and nobody will ever see it.
Um….chub rub?
You know, when your dunlop rubs against the front of your pants and causes chaffing, cause you’re too fat and your pants are too tight?
Dunlop? oh god, these terms! we don’t have these fat terms up here!
You know, when your belly dun lopped over your pecker.
Haha, okay, so then what’s the chub rub part? And you don’t have a dunlop by the way.
It’s when the chubby part of your belly, the chub, rubs against the top of your jeans creating chub rub.
I see. Well you might have slight chub, but I would not say a full out dunlop.
Anyway, the point is that the iPod is really really small and can be hidden anywhere. (One more pointless joke choked to death by a literal interpretation.)
Sorry, I do that a lot. Eventually I will get all these jokes when my brain stops doing that thing it does with words. 😛 I like that we both got each other something iPod related.
I know right, I heard that four out of the top ten gifts this year were made by Apple. That brings me up to a grand total of one Apple device, all the rest can kiss my shiny metal ass. Especially Macs. Macs are only good with cheese.
I’m so getting a Mac next computer. Vista can bite me.
Fuck that shit, Vista is for people who aren’t assholes. Mac’s are lame as hell and if you have troubles on it, you have to figure them out on your own because trying to use them makes me want to skewer people alive, with a Mac.
Well it’s been nearly a week and I’m just now crawling out of the slight but constant head daze that seems to have resulted from whatever strain of flu settled in my ears shortly after Christmas. I worked up the courage to open the bottle of Buckley’s – even the guy at my corner store made ‘the face’ when I asked him if it works – and still coughed my way through the weekend. I’ve got that really scary deep cough that makes me sound like a creepy old man offering candy and rides to playgrounds.
Anyways, there has been at least one rad thing about this past week. While all the stores are taking down the decorations and the trees are lined up on the sidewalk, I got to open my gifts from Josh!
Woot!
I really wanted our first Christmas post to be written together, however, but his weekends are…otherwise occupied until April. We didn’t get to work on it until last night and I still have to put the pictures in. But it’s almost done! So you’ll hear from both of us really soon, but in the meantime, here’s a quick peek.
Josh sent me a few things, but my favourite is now kept right here in this little box.
800 Miles 
