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I finally went to the knitting group at my favorite yarn store, Knitch! It was awesome, I’m so glad I went. I met a lot of really great knitters and people brought wine and food…it was just great! I’ll definitely be back. We had a lone needlepointer who was impressing all of us with her awesome needlepoint and her doctorly knowledge (she’s a doctor). I left at 9pm, and I was ridiculed for being lame. These knitters were giving me a hard time for leaving after being there for 2.5 hours and said it was too early. Fantastic! I love the knitterly spirit!
I managed to take one picture. I meant to take more, but it didn’t happen. Maybe next time.
And then, shortly after this picture was taken, she moved to another table and it was sad. Frowny face.
Oh! You know how, the other day, I said I wanted to get a bunch of non-green wearing co-workers to wear the badges I made? Well, I got a least half of them to tape the badges to their shirts with pride. It was amazing!
But. There was one. Who refused to wear it. He says “declined.” Whatever. Then we had an intense conversation about arguing for something you claimed to be right about. And how you should argue for it, even if you realize you’re wrong. Because you have to take a stand and let people know that you’re passionate, and more importantly, a control freak who always needs to be right. My kind of person. And then I brought up how I felt like the whole badge wearing refusal was his way of arguing for something he knew he was wrong 
about, but he was just making a stand and even though all of the cool kids were wearing them, he just had to be different. He kindly (more or less) disagreed. But then, he made me a badge. And I wore it proudly (to, you know, prove I was right). It’s pretty awesome here.
Out of boredom yesterday, I started reading the Notorious Killers sections of Crime Library. I was looking for the Bizarre and Strange section, but I guess the powers that be have done away with it in the past 6 years (last time I came to this website). Interestingly, they do showcase a Terrorists and Spies section. This is new.
I am reading about a Black Widow named Marie Hilley from the Appalachian Mountains in Alabama. Reading this is teaching me a lot about how to not raise a serial killer. First and foremost, don’t move to Appalachia, duh. Second, discipline your kinds. Hilley’s parents didn’t discipline her at all, even though they were poor and she was lazy, and look what happened. Take that capital punishment! Third, don’t tell your kids they are special. Working in the textile factory was too good for Snooty Pants Hilley. Her parents wanted her to get an education. The nerve. (You know, my parents told me I was special and I grew up thinking that I was going to be part of the Rapture and help Jesus bring all of the saved Christian souls to heaven while the rest of you heathens had to deal with Satan taking over the earth for seven years. But, that is another long, weird story. It’s actually pretty amazing I didn’t end up killing anyone–’pat on the back’)
Fourth, if your daughter is really pretty, you’re probably screwed. Fifth, don’t let your really pretty, spoiled daughter marry the first dude she meets. You might have to lock her in your barn for a few years, but she will come out okay.
And, now that she’s married, she’s out of your hair. If I were you, I would move away and change my name so that when you does go on the killing spree, you won’t fall victim.
Oh, and Happy St. Patrick’s Day to all of you who are into that stuff.
P.S. None of my coworkers wore green today. So, I printed out this sticker for them. We shall see how many of them will wear it.
Update: So far, I have at least 10 people with these taped to their shirts, maybe more.
As I have previously stated, quitting smoking is pretty much the hardest, shittiest thing ever. Ever. I’ve spent too much time recently wishing I could go back in time to tell my 15 year-old-self that there is absolutely nothing cool or glamorous about smoking. Nothing. Unfortunately, life doesn’t work like that. I’m at a point right now where I can’t imagine my life continuing to smoke 
and I can’t imagine life without smoking. Cigarettes are truly making my life unmanageable and I can’t do this to myself anymore. I’ve tried to will power through quitting, but there will be a weak moment when I will smoke one. I feel like I just can’t win at this point. Everyone who has ever quit smoking is my personal hero.
After a friend recommended it, I bought this book. The Easy Way to Quit Smoking by Allen Carr. I have heard that this is the book that has helped many of my friend’s friends quit. So, today, I started reading. And it sounds good. Carr encourages me to continue smoking while I am reading the book and guarantees if I follow the directions, I too will find smoking freedom.
I’m depending on you, Carr. Please don’t let me down. (At this point, I’m really excited for what the book says it has to offer)
I don’t know if I can possibly explain how happy I am that daylight savings time is here! I am beyond ecstatic. I feel like getting to work in the dark and leaving work in the dark has taken a real toll on me. Since the last time change, I have become such a lazy blob. I never want to do anything at night anymore. It’s too cold and dark to leave the house once I am home. Well, no more! I am going to be out and about and it’s going to be great!
Do the short winter days make you depressed?
I like to ghost hunt. Which pretty much means I like to go to “haunted places” or walk around weird graveyards in the middle of the woods late at night and get scared by the rustling of squirrels running through the leaves. Sometimes we bring Ouija boards (which, you can no longer buy in stores for some reason!! What?! We have to make our own). Almost every time I have done this, I am the instigator and I have strict rules about scaring people in our posse, namely because I don’t want people jumping out from behind trees or graves at me. I’m super scared of the dark. Like, not kidding at all, it freaks me out. This doesn’t match with wanting to go ghost hunting at all. I am aware of this conundrum.
I have rules though. You can’t take anyone with you who takes ghost hunting extremely seriously. If you so much as think of EVP’s, you’re out. Or mentioning that you’re bringing your camera to do that weird flashy thing that shows orbs (dust specs) on your screen. And you can’t be too unserious about it either. My major personal rule is that I won’t do anything inside. No haunted houses or anything. Only haunted fields and stuff.
First, it’s really dark in there and there are more places to hide. Most of all, the dark. Creepy. Secondly, one time I did it and some crazy man tried to bash my head in.
That’s right. A crazy man. When I was 17, I was on a first date and he was all like, “We’ve finished dinner, instead of taking you to the movies to make-out like a normal guy, I want to take you to this abandoned mental institution that’s haunted!” And, I really liked this guy, so I said, “Great!”
When we got there, we didn’t have to break in because the door was open and the guy was all like, “This is weird, it’s always locked.” And I was thinking, you’re freaking crazy and I can’t believe you’ve been here before. It was pitch black dark in there. Dumbass that I was with didn’t have a flashlight, either. You can imagine my excitement knowing that we would be walking the halls of a supposedly haunted mental hospital in complete darkness. Elation.
Once inside, we heard someone scream. Dude screams back and I was about to piss myself. You don’t scream back at unknown screamers. In the dark. Duh. Am I the only person who knows this? We hear running and we can’t see where it’s coming from because we have no flashlight so we just run (quietly) and hide in one of the hundreds of hospital rooms lining the halls.
Then, the unknown runner starts banging what sounded like a metal pole against the wall. I could hear him getting closer and closer and I thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest. I just knew that I was about to get my head bashed in and no one would find my body.
After what felt like forever, we ran to safety and I have never gone into another dark, dilapidated place at night again. And later, the police would stand outside of that hospital to keep out high school students because they used to find dead prostitutes in there all the time. True story.
I had an interesting dream last night. Wait! Before you quit reading because you don’t want to hear about me interpreting my future because I had a vision of a unicorn in the sky and he told me my dead cat said to keep on keeping on, it’s nothing like that. I promise.
I was hanging out with some friends (in the dream) and I noticed that none of them were shaving their legs (I probably had this dream because I might need to shave mine, but our shower head is clogged and the water comes out in a pathetic drip). Curious, I asked one of them what the deal was and they were all like, “Oh, we’re not shaving because of the recession.” Which made sense to me in the dream. And I thought that was weird. And is a really random and weird life like situation to dream about. I do remember thinking these people are a little weird (again, in the dream) and that I might need to get new friends. Just sayin’
I don’t know if news sources outside of Georgia are talking about this, I might have heard a snippet on the Today show this morning, but I can’t remember. Just in case, I want to alert you all to something absolutely atrocious. Probably, there are a lot of Hustler subscribers reading this blog right now.
Last year, innocent, 24 year-old Meredith Emerson was killed while jogging or hiking or something. And she was decapitated and a lot of horrible other things. In some of the crime scene photos, 
Meredith’s body is naked and posed “suggestively” (whatever). So, Hustler has decided that they want these nude photos. And because they are public record (crime scene photos) they thought they could just ask and receive. Well, Georgia is all like, hell no, bitches. You can’t have these photos. And Hustler is planning to sue the Georgia Bureau of Investigation on infringement of first amendment rights. ’sigh’
Not that I have ever looked at Hustler as a serious publication, but I thought they had a little class. I will admit, I have never seen a copy of Hustler but I thought that they were just into sex photos and stuff. I never imagined that this magazine (or any magazine really) would want to display a nude, dead body as a sexual image. I mean, she is someone’s little girl. Meredith Emerson is a person for God’s sake.
Right now there is a lot of legislation and lawyers and stuff around this horrible request. Jill Chambers, a Georgia House Rep, is introducing legislation (which is very careful about not infringing on first amendment rights) to keep Hustler away from these photos. If this has made you mad like it has me, please send Chambers an encouraging message or something. Whatever. I just hate the thought of a magazine sexualizing Meredith’s death. You can contact Chambers here.
My mom told me last night that life is dealing with one crisis after the next. Once one ends, you begin preparing for the next. I completely disagree with this. If all I am doing is jumping from one bad event to the next, what is the point?
I am dealing with a personal crisis right now. And it’s okay. It’s not the end of the world. I have lived my whole life living preparing myself for the next horrible thing and I’m really over it. Even though I’m having a really hard time and things aren’t the way I want them to be, I will be fine. This is an awesome realization for me. I don’t know if I’ve ever been so “okay” before. My mom keeps calling me and giving me her “words of wisdom” because she’s so worried I am going to freak out and do something drastic. I have reassured her I’ve changed. “I’m really fine, Mom. Just sad, ” I keep telling her. “I wish things were different, but they just aren’t.” I hate change and I hate not getting my way and right now one chapter of my life is over and another one is beginning. While I am very sad to see the last chapter go (you could say devastated), it’s exciting to prepare for the new chapter. I want to force myself to get out and do things I’ve always been afraid to do. Or that I didn’t have time for (most of the time means I have been afraid).
This week I am going to a knitting meet up I have been meaning to get around to for three years. I have been on their mailing list for three years. This means they have sent me an email once of twice a week all this time and I have never bothered to show up. I’ve always been too afraid to put myself out there and meet new people. Even though they are all fellow knitters, who have a strong bond just because of our craft. It’s kind of like in high school when you found out someone who’d been in classes with you for years also smoked pot and you were all like, We could’ve been hanging out all this time! So, yes, I’m nervous, but really excited.
This new chapter will be scary, but I’m done preparing myself for the worst and riding from one crisis to the next. Life is worth living and I am ready to live it.
(I’m not yet ready to publicly tell what this crisis is, but if you want to know, please email me. My email is on the Contact Moi page.)
I was sent some shampoo and conditioner from the nice people over at Prive to test out. You guys, this stuff is really awesome. I reviewed TONS of hair products at my old blog and none of them had the foamy awesomeness of Prive. The product comes in this aerosol can, which is lime green metal. And then it foams out into my hand. And while I’m rubbing it all over my hair I feel like when I was a little kid. You know, when you got way too 
much shampoo in your hands and made little hair sculptures out of your hair because the bubbles were so cool. Then your mom came in and told you to wash that crap out of your hair and quit playing around? It’s like that, but way better. And, you only need a little. I enjoy making hair sculptures, even though I don’t really have enough hair anymore. But, my mom doesn’t live with me so she isn’t coming in and telling me to knock it off. Which is nice.
Prive makes my hair feel light and fluffy, a little too light and fluffy for my taste, but I have fine hair and need it to sit down. Weird story, some dude came up to me in the Sam’s Club parking lot and was all, “I like your hair” and I was all like, “Thanks?” Maybe it was the shampoo and conditioner?
This morning I was talking with my neighbor, discussing how I had planned to move and then didn’t. Her cat, Cosmos, is best friends with Caspian and Aravis. I know, cats are loners and they don’t have friends. I thought this too, but the three of them are together all the time, they take naps together and Cosmos even snuck Aravis in through the cat door when his mom was out of town. Even Roomie agrees about their friendship.
So, we were talking about the moving and I was saying how I was worried that Aravis and Caspian would miss Cosmos too much. She said, “You can’t ever move! The street wouldn’t be the same without–” Here, I thought she was going to say me. I am apparently living under the illusion that all of my neighbors know who I am and love me. “–Caspian and Aravis. The whole neighborhood wouldn’t be the same!” ’sigh’
