Marnie, speak! Good girl.

Dear Blogger software,

Hi, how's it going. Can we talk? Maybe we should go somewhere public, just because.
We've been together now almost two years. Heaven knows that's a long time to invest in someone else, but you were my first and I had nothing to compare you to. I still remember when we met. I'd seen you everywhere and you were easy to be around. I didn't need try too hard, you just did your thing and I did mine and it all seemed to be... good. My blog, and thus, our relationship flourished. I would see you several times a week, sometimes daily, sometimes less, and while you occasionally acted up, I chalked it up to the normal highs and lows of a relationship.

But lately, you've been temperamental. I can post to other people's blogs with you, but I can't post to my own. My initial thought was that it was me, that I had done something wrong, but Blogger, nothing had changed. Nothing! The day before I had posted with you and you were fine and then the next day and for days after, you snubbed me, stating only "Broken Pipe Error".

I blamed my ISP, I harassed them. I said "Blogger says it's you." And I believed it, Blogger, I did. But you know, they showed me something. They showed me logs that said that you weren't where you said you were, that you were trying to post to directories; the wrong directories.

I wrote your help department and I asked for help and I was denied. So Blogger, we are over, I'm moving on.

I've met someone new. His name is Movable Type and we're going to give it a shot. I haven't had much time. With my work schedule we've only done breakfast and dinner and an occasional lunch, but already, I see things getting better.

I'll keep our memories. Your archives, are still here, but Blogger, it's time for us to say our goodbyes. I know you aren't one to get emotional, heck, you're completely unresponsive these days, so maybe you were just pushing me away, hoping I'd do this.

I wish you nothing but the happiness.
My best regards,
~marnie

For those of you still able to find your way to my blog, I'm so glad you have. A few things have been and continue to be a little wonky around here.
For starters, my feeds aren't working quite right. They are there, you can load them, but they don't tell you when anything new gets posted. I can't figure out why, the feeds are one of the few things I didn't monkey around with. Let's hope it's just a matter of time.

As for comments, they've been working sporadically. That's completely my fault. They should be A-OK now, so, by all means, comment away ;o).
Otherwise, I think things are working fairly well. Let me know if they aren't and I'll try to sort them out.

Despite all the problems, I'm still really happy I made the move from Blogger to Movable Type. I haven't had a lick of problem posting and the features are very slick.

I have lots to post about, so even though my feeds aren't ok, you should still stop by when you think of it.

This is cool. My Heritage offers a free face recognition utility online. You upload a picture of yourself, preferably from the front and of fairly high resolution. I uploaded a not-so-terribly-flattering picture of myself that fit the criteria.

Results after the bump

I had enough time to make a few spots for the little Dragon Hoodie, before the gift was due to be received. I really like how they look in front.

The back of the sweater, and notes on this version of the pattern, after the bump.

Matt and his girlfriend left town yesterday after a fun filled weekend of eating, partying and eating some more. We also did a bit of snacking between meals. I'm not sure if meeting Leo and me completely doomed Matt's relationship with Jess but if that didn't, perhaps seeing Matt do karaoke did.

Because I'm a loving and good sister, I recorded said karaoke for all the world to enjoy. Do you have Quicktime? If so, click on one of the links below

Small
Medium
Large

Don't forget to crank those speakers.
This was about a half hour before midnight on New Year's Eve. We went down to Santa Monica where we found a bar full of happy people enjoying some of the flat out worst karaoke I've had the opportunity to experience.

More pics from the weekend, after the bump.

Warning, only read this post if you aren't bothered by politics.

This is art and craft of exceptional quality.
Found via Drawn

I may be wrong, but I suspect that a lot of this is actually machine knit fabric, cut and sewn into shape and other pieces look like they may be crocheted, but without being able to see them more closely, it's hard to say. Either way, amazing stuff.

UPDATE: Urraca informs me that the artist is Patricia Waller and the pieces are all crochet. Some of those are either huge pieces or some extremely fine gauge crochet. Make sure you check out Patricia's site for more of her beautiful work.

I don't believe that I use any sort of ninja death grip when I knit. My hands don't get cramped and my gauge is fairly loose. Nonetheless, I have managed to break stitch markers while knitting.

For many years, I have happily used my Susan Bates stitch markers. They are readily available and cheap as can be. A small box of 20 will run you less than $2.00. It was not until I crushed a few, mid row, that I decided I needed to see what else was out there.

Now my collection of stitch marking paraphernalia looks like this:

In my knitting nook, I have a set of those dishes you put your soy sauce in when you eat sushi. In one dish, I keep standard safety pins, some with the loop at the bottom, some without. In another dish, I keep a variety of closed ring, circular stitch markers. In the third dish, I have split ring and locking stitch markers, and in the last, I have a beautiful set of hand made stitch markers my friend Amy gave me.

If I haven't bored you yet, read the rest of my post on stitch markers, after the bump.

Last we met, we were discussing my stitch marker collection. Here they are again:

• Purple: Clover Soft Stitch Markers


• Black: Bryson Ring Markers


• Silver Pin: Standard safety pin


• Pink: Clover Split Ring Markers


• Orange: Clover Locking Ring Markers


• Brass Pin: Quilter's Brass Safety Pins


• Red: Susan Bates Stitch Markers


• Blue: Clover Stitch Marker Rings


• Dangly Sparkly: Nifty handmade stitch markers from Amy

While I have plenty of uses for the split and locking stitch markers, they don't do much of the heavy lifting here at Chez Marnie. I have to say, though, the feedback I got from the previous post was interesting. It appears that most people fall into one of a few disticnt groups.

There are the people who are most concerned with aesthetics. Having something cute or sparkly brings a smile to the knitter's face. While others are economical and practical. Using bits of string, hair elastics or a cut up straw means never worrying about lost markers or spending too much. Finally, there are people like I am. So without further ado, go ahead and read a bit more about the madness to my method, after the bump.

I'm here at Stitches West and it's been quite an adventure. I should preface this by saying that Leo and everyone I work with have been sick for the past month or more. I said to my mom, a couple weeks ago, "I bet you anything, I’ll catch a cold right before Stitches." I was wrong, I caught a cold the day OF Stitches. Lucky me. So between hacking up a lung and not sleeping well, it's made me less than 100% of myself.

But I did go to Sally Melvile's speech the first day.

This was just before she went on stage, so do enjoy the view of everyone’s head and nothing else. She was discussing the process she used for designing pieces in her newest book, Color.

Here's my mom modeling a scarf/necklace thingy she knit and felted. Oooh, so cute. This is apropos, nothing, really, I just think she's cute.

She and I both had our first class together. We took Debbie New's Labyrinth Knitting course. If you aren't familiar, it's a technique from her Unexpected Knits

Here are some of my swatches.

None of mine are exactly right, but I got the concept. You basically make a jigsaw of your knitting and work them out to fit exactly into a certain shape. Very interesting stuff.

Between classes I've been working on my Voodoo top. I actually got an email from someone who wishes to remain anonymous, but who took umbrage with my last post, so I've taken it down. I believe it to be at least partially, a misunderstanding. I think this person thinks I plan to figure out the construction of the inspiration piece and write it up as my own pattern for distribution. This is simply untrue I've just knit this piece for myself, but I'm afraid I wasn't able to coherently communicate this and it's clear the offense has pushed the issue beyond reconciliation. I feel bad about that but I can respect this person's feelings on the topic.

That said, I'm very happy with the results so far. Here is the piece with all the knitting done and none of the ends sewn in. I still need to crochet more trim and add a closure.

I originally planned to use a frog closure but I lost mine in the travel from LA to here, so I've since bought some buttons, which I'll post soon.

Unfortunately, I can't find any pictures online of the original inspiration piece. It's called Red Dragon and it was issued by GGH/Rebecca magazine, but it's a bit like this and this. I just love that look and incorporating it into knitwear poses some interesting construction challenges that were fun to play around with. Don’t worry, all those ends will be woven in and there is more trimming to do. Oh and it needs a serious blocking as well, but just pretend that bottom hem is straight. I’ll post all my notes and a decent picture, as soon as I can.

Well, times a-wasting and it is my birthday, after all.

This Sunday, we decided to take Panda to the mountains so she could play in the snow. We live about 40 miles from the San Gabriel Mountains, so it's hardly an inconvenience to pack up the girl and head for the hills. So we shook off the sleepies after a night filled with Salsa dancing (well, I did the dancing, he stuck to scotch and people watching), grabbed the little fur ball and began our journey.

We drove along, listening to an audio book and taking in the sights. We realized, though, that we were a little off track when we saw a sign for this land mark.

For those of you who know Southern California, you may have already guessed where we ended up. For everyone else, you can find out after the bump.

Now that Leo is working downtown, we spend a lot of time together. We commute in together, eat our lunches together and commute home again later on. Even with all that time together, we still find ourselves touching base throughout the day. Both of us use our IM accounts to do actual work (who'd a thunk it?) so it's easy for us to write each other, throughout the day, when things come up.

But every once in a while, I have to call him at his desk. Whenever I do, he answers with a chuckle. Why? Because his caller ID sees both my cell phone and office number as follows:

When I call, I'm announced as "SUPERTRUNK." Being she who bears the interloper, aka "Junk in the Trunk" I'm rather shocked to hear that it's detectable, even by a phone system.

Now, the past couple of months, I've certainly been given said "trunk" a bit of extra exercise. Whenever Leo and I meet for lunch, I scale the 2nd street hill of doom.

Trust me, it's doomier than it looks.

And then I climb two flights of stairs up to MOCA

And I'm a brisk walker indeed, no breaks along the way.
So while I'm amused, or perhaps even flattered that Leo's phone thinks I have a super trunk, perhaps I shouldn't be so surprised.

And if conversations about my derriere are off topic for this blog, well, so be it. I'm a bit loopy from work exhaustion. Perhaps, if there is not a mass exodus from my blog after this post, I'll introduce you to the mutant flowers near our favorite lunch spot.

Yesterday was St. Patrick's day, which means clovers, leprechauns and lots of green beer. To be honest, I'm rather indifferent to the holiday. My MacLean ancestors are Scottish, if you were wondering. But it's not even a matter of lineage, as I've been assured that I do, indeed, have some Irish blood coursing through my veins. There's no real reason, per se, I just don't feel any huge draw towards the holiday. But, yesterday, I got myself a little holiday cheer.

Leo and I both had a long week at work and we decided to try to find a new sushi restaurant near work, seeing as I'm right next to Little Tokyo.

On our way there, between light bursts of rain and sunshine, we saw this.

It's no four leaf clover, but it was definitely a visual pot o' gold.

I got word, yesterday, that starting Monday, I'm officially promoted. Yay! I had been vying for a couple open supervisor positions at my company and both managers had told me I was their top pick, but last minute I was asked to decline those positions in exchange for equal title/pay/grade level and remain in my current role, at least long enough to complete a large project I've been working on. In essence, it means better pay and I appear more qualified, on paper, but in truth, nothing much will change about my job. I have asked to be able to attend management training courses, as they are made available, so that I will, at least, be able to beef up those skills in some way.

So to celebrate, here are some more pictures of the shawl. They still aren't quite what I want, picture wise. I'm hoping to actually don my handmade apparel, to get a better picture, sometime soon. But these are definitely better than the blocking pictures.

This picture really shows the stitch pattern well, but doesn't really show the color, because it's backlit.

This is the best representation of the color, but is a little soft in the details.

I see it worn over a black dress, on a mild spring night.

After my last post, I got together with a bunch of my girlfriends for dinner at a Tunisian restaurant.

There was wine and, well, belly dancing.

See, here's the thing about me, there's really not much more than a thin veneer of self decency that keeps me from breaking into dance at the drop of a hat (or in this case, drape of a scarf). I love to dance. So when my friends hoisted me, bodily, at the belly dancer who was trying to coax another of the group up to dance, well, I didn't put up much of a struggle. And hey, just because I've never belly danced before, doesn't mean I won't try to fake it.

And if you aren't having an hearty laugh at my expense yet, I will add that while I had had a little bit of wine, I wasn't even buzzed. I act this way sober.

Anyway, enough of that.
I've been knitting some trim onto my cardi.

There are something like 1500 stitches going around the edge of this piece, and it is taking me days to cast off. The saddest part of all is that I'm not sure if I like this treatment. I'll bind off and see, but I'm thinking I might want something a bit softer, less ruffly. I did try it on up to this point and it looks pretty cute, but, it's not quite what I envisioned.

Would you like to see that ruffle a little closer?

It's a completely reversible ruffle that I designed for this piece, though I'm sure others have come up with the same sort of idea. If I do end up ripping this out and trying again, I'll probably try the same thing again but with fewer increases and a wider ruffle. Or, I'll get fed up and try a different style.

And since I'm in a non sequitur kind of a mood, here's a dog in a raincoat that I saw yesterday while walking to Leo's office after work.

I got so many great comments and even more votes in my little poll. It appears that around 62% of folks that voted like the cardi as it is. However, most commenters leaned more towards softening or modifying the ruffle. I think, based on the feedback, I'll keep the piece as is for now. It seems like most of the people who didn't love the ruffle are not ruffle kinds of people anyway. What can I say? I'm pretty girly sometimes. I'm also working on a matching camisole with no ruffle, to wear with the cardigan. It's a simple square neck, fitted piece with a very simple crochet border that should compliment the cardigan without making the whole thing too busy. Yes, I know, a good blogger would have a picture. Sorry about that.

This weekend, I also learned that Deciduous likes to go out dancing. Want to see pictures? Check 'em out after the bump.

My friend Chrissy is an animal trainer. She also gets a kick out of dressing up dogs.

This is Beowulf

Her parents' Pomeranian. See what she's done to him, after the bump.

I took a couple rough photos of the machine knit cardi and cami

The pictures aren't so good because there was only a little daylight left when I took them. And I've been doing housework all day, so the hair; it is in no condition for photographing. But, I think it gives you a general idea of what the pieces look like.

I'm now fully engrossed in Leo's sweater.

This is the back piece. I'm about halfway to the armsceye. It looks thin, but it will block out much wider. So far so good. I got most of it done while watching a movie over at a friend's place. It was a great, relaxing evening.

Leo went out with some friends and brought me home this:

He’s so sweet. Little things like that make knitting miles of ribbing seem fun.

Last night there was a package for me.

It was from Australia.

It hasn't been light out during any time since I got it, so just know that these pictures don't do the contents justice.
If you would like to see what's inside, it's all after the bump.

Do you ever feel like you have to apologize that people think you are better than you are? I'm seriously not fishing for compliments here but, I've been asked to be on a panel at the BlogHer convention in July.

The topic: "Is the Next Martha Stewart a Blogger?" I'm told that all I have to do is sit there and answer questions when I can. While I can assure you that I am definitely not the next Martha Stewart, I can't help but be flattered by the whole thing.
Did I say yes? Do bears relieve themselves in the woods?

I'm told that one of the rules is that I'll have to answer questions but not give speeches which is fine and dandy by me. If someone said I had to give a speech, I would have definitely turned it down. I don't mind talking to a crowd but I do mind having a script.

Blogging may be sparse over then next few days. I've been asked to work out of the Orange County office for the week, to oversee part of a project we've been working on for a few months. This effectively doubles my commute, which, when added to 10 hour days, means that I'll have time to do little more than wake up, drive, work, drive, go to sleep. Fun! I don't mind so much except that I can't take public transportation so my knitting time is almost nil. Thank god for lunch breaks.

In the mean time, take a look at the beautiful silk yarn I spun up from the care package that Lynn sent me.

It's about a light sport weight and was spun up on my 0.9 ounce Golding.

Warning! Politician banter ahead. You definitely don't have to agree with me, but please play nice.

So anyway, my brother, his girlfriend and I met up for dinner and we were waxing politically, as we are wont to do. I asked the question, "Hey, you know that whole Sodom and Gomorrah thing? Why did we get "Sodomy" but not "Gomorry"? And that's when it occurred to me. We need this word.

Click the image, or get the full definition after the bump.

In the mean time, I say we all start using the word. No, it isn't just a liberal thing, apply liberally (or conservatively, or even judiciously) as needed. Got an out of control school board? Is your mother really irking you? Did a crappy driver cut you off and then drive 10 miles under the speed limit? This word is free for any of the many uses you might find.

Le Ann commented in my last post, that she felt my credentials as a woman, exceeded hers, ostensibly because I was working on a sweater for Leo that contains miles of ribbing. Well, this story will either solidify her assertion or, more likely, make her wish to retract her comment.

The evening was like any other; Leo sat at the computer, while I sat 10 feet away, knitting and watching tv. There was a crinkle of a potato chip bag, then several satisfying munches. The conversation was light between us; events of the day and whatnot, so there was no need for constant eye contact. And then I saw it. Panda, tail a wagging, was heading towards a prize. Leo had dropped the largest chip he could find in the bag. Seeing that I had caught him in the act, he prodded Panda on. "Go on, Panda, get the chip." I countered, "Leave it! Don't you eat that chip." The challenge began.

She licked it, but backed away. I swooped in to pick up the offending chip and toss it. With a self-righteous tone I said, "I'll give her a proper doggy cookie." I pull out the bag of Tiny Tots

They smell a little bit like beef jerky and they are fairly soft, almost malleable. Panda finds them delightful. Leo scoffs "Those suck!"
"Oh do they?" I reply, "How would you know, have you ever tried one."
If this were a wild west showdown movie, music would have started playing. Our eyes locked and two very stubborn people sized up the situation. Still holding the bag of treats, Panda placated, I pulled one of the treats out and placed it in front of Leo.

There was a fleeting moment in which his gaze wavered and a look of doubt crossed his face. Then, like a cobra striking, his hand darted out, snatched the treat, and he bit off half, all the while, his eyes never leaving mine. His face was smug while he chewed once, twice, three times and then there was realization. Slowly, his eyes widened and panic set in. Half a cookie still clutched in his hands and most of the other half sloshing between his teeth, he gasp and let out a meek "It's awful!"

He leaped up from his chair and ran to the nearby kitchen sink, spitting and splashing water into his mouth at the same time, I tried to hold back laughter but cannot. He cries "It's stuck in my teeth!" He runs to the bathroom and brushes his teeth for what feels like minutes. I'm laughing so hard, I'm having a bit of trouble holding myself steady, Panda just looks on bemused. I hear a pained “It’s like puke mixed in play-doh!” and it’s all I can do to keep from keeling over from asphyxiation.

This is a moment, not unlike many between Leo and me. We are two very stubborn people and the result is usually that one person eats crow, or in this case, something far worse.

Not two nights later, I was enjoying dinner with my brother and mother. I had an experience that would make any Freudian psychologist dance with glee. Some of you may remember this post from December 2004. Well, my little brother has exceeded his previous goal, and/or, sunk to even deeper depths.

click image for Quicktime movie

Does it bother me that my brother and boyfriend are both willing to put themselves through undue suffering to prove, who knows what? No more so than it bothers me that, politically, they are so similar they could live in the same bomb shelter together, nor that they have the same sardonic sense of humor. I’m sure it should trouble me that their personalities are so similar but I’m resigned to it. Hey, look how much amusement I get out of life. Why change a thing?

I can't quite decide what my the PPO portion of my medical insurance is referring to. I thought it was shorthand for "the world is your medical oyster" but I'm finding myself a tad frustrated today. The short story is that I need to get some inoculations so I can take a business trip to India in July, which is a very cool opportunity but is involving a lot of effort I hadn't originally considered. I think I've sorted most of the confusion out in what appears to be the first instance of my insurance company being more helpful than the doctor's office. Who knew? Anyway, I have two sore upper arms and a yellow card detailing my immunities to some rather icky viruses. There was also a bit of time to knit on Leo's sleeves.

I will still need some boosters and a tetanus shot, as well as a few prescriptions, but I've got the stuff that needed a lot of lead time out of the way.

Working on Leo's sweater, I've given myself little leeway to do much else. Obviously, I knit Gir but there really hasn't been much else. I occasionally pick up my spindle which has some lovely alpaca on it.

It's not that I'm not enjoying spinning it, it's just that I really want to crank through Leo's sweater and I cannot spin and knit at the same time. But, imagine if I could...oh my own vision of Valhalla.

Knitting miles of ribbing does give me ample time to consider what comes next. I'll definitely be working on the clown hat, but what should I do in India. July = monsoon season in the area. Temperatures, apparently, can average around 120 degrees though I'm told it's quite a bit cooler where we'll be. Even so, I'm thinking small, portable, and able to be worked on mindlessly. All signs point to socks. I'm not a huge sock knitter, but I am feeling that 2 socks on 2 circs will prevent second sock syndrome AND be more likely to survive a trip through security and customs without a lot of explanation. I like working on DPNs, but having a preference for metal to wood means that's probably a bad idea.

So last night I ripped out a partially knit, now abandoned project that was started with some Socks that Rock in colorway, Carbon. It needed a bath and hanging to get the kinky bits out but now looks as good as new.

I also have some solid shades of koigu around and plenty of self patterning sock yarn, all of which will only take up a small amount of space in my luggage but which should easily entertain me for my 24 hour long commutes to and from India as well as the small amount of down time I'll have during the trip.

I grew up in NH and stayed in New England until Leo and I moved to California about 5.5 years ago. Some people are forever nostalgic for where they grew up, I am not. For all the natural and not so natural (smog, shootings and Anna Nicole) disasters we face in California, I wouldn't go back to the harsh winters and constant cloud of biting bugs in the summer, for all the tea in China.

I do, however, have some loved ones in the area, such as my parents, some aunts and cousins, and my dear friends Janet and Bill. Janet and Bill live in the boonies of a rather boonie-ful state. Their roads are paved with dirt and postal delivery to their area is only reliable in its unreliability.

They find humor in every nook and cranny of life and even the recent storms of the area have had no ill effect on their sense of irony. Case in point, a picture Bill took with the caption "Promises Promises"

You gotta love it.

Since my post on Friday, I've done about 80 rows on Leo's sleeves. I am finally at the sleeve cap, which means no more increases. Not a moment too soon, I say. There were a few moments when I mentally psyched myself out and I wasn't sure I'd ever see the end of them.

There is actually a likely possibility that the sleeves are a little bit long. Personally, I'd rather have to shorten a ribbed sleeve than have to lengthen one. Ribbing is unidirectional. If you pickup and knit from the other direction, all stitches will be half a stitch offset from the point you picked them up. This means that lengthening a ribbed sleeve is best done by knitting a new cuff and grafting, in ribbing, to the base of the sleeve. I'm very comfortable with grafting in stockinette but ribbing is a whole other beast.

But you know, it's easy to find motivation when knitting for Leo. It's not all about eating dog cookies at our place. On Friday, Leo treated me to dinner at my favorite Italian restaurant.

He said he loved me so much, even the stains he leaves on his placemat are heart shaped.

After dinner, we made an attempt to go out and tear up the town, but having both gotten up around 6 am, we were pretty beat by 11pm and the bars still all seemed empty. Leo did take this cool picture of us reflected off the mirror behind the bar.

You can see his camera peaking through the bottles, if you look carefully.

It ended up being an early night, and a quiet weekend. On Saturday, I knit sleeves while I watched Memoirs of Geisha. It may not be as good as the book, but it's been quite a few years since I read the book and the cinematography alone was captivating enough to hold my interest. There were a few things I remembered well enough to feel like I could pick apart the movie a bit, but it never stopped me from enjoying it.

I think it's been 5 years now, maybe 4, my memory is not so good, but it is time. We've had a good run, going many fun places together, but let's be honest, we're both more worn than when we met and my needs are simply greater than you can accommodate.

This is the conversation I had with my old Klimt purse.

You know, I still really love the design and its small size always kept me from carrying too much stuff, but it could never quite accommodate my cell phone, wallet AND the digital camera, along with things like keys and such that are purse mainstays. I think, if the image weren't fading, I'd carry this purse forever. It was a gift from my mom, several years ago, and it's gone with me just about everywhere. I am not a purse floozy. Occasionally I'll carry something different when I'm going out for an evening, but in general, I'm a one purse kind of girl.

But yesterday, a package arrived from my mom. She has graced me with a brand new Klimt purse, which is bigger and even more lovely than the last.

Gorgeous, no? It's a deep chocolate brown and nearly twice as big as my old purse. They are both Icon purses and I can say, with some authority, that they are very well made. Despite the fact that I have carried my old purse for years and stuffed it full on many occasions, it only showed wear at corners, the main image is still perfect, and the lining has never so much as considered ripping. The new purse has a lovely assortment of pockets and pouches and even came with this matching key chain.

It has taken me all of 5 minutes to move everything out of the old purse into the new one and it feels like moving from a studio apartment into a 3 bedroom house; there's just so much extra space. Yay!

In crafty news, the sleeves on Leo's sweater are nearly done with only about 30 more rows left, I hope to have pictures soon. For now, here's a peek at some of that pink roving that Lynn sent me, which I've been spinning on my Kundert spindle.

Now that I'm in full fledged "prepare for India" mode, I'm having to get things like Visas in order. In doing so, I've had to pull out my Passport. I still keep my first one.

This was issued to me in April of 1989 when I was 14 years old. No, that's not a mullet, I had bangs and two ponytails. Those white things are, yes, earrings. I never had big hair, not even when it was fashionable, but I definitely had big earrings.

Thank god I never ended up being a fugitive while this was my passport photo because I have no doubt that every news station would have run this photo of me.

Fourteen years later, my passport photo isn't much better but at least I don't look like I have committed a crime. I got this one three years ago with the hopes that I'd have some reason to use it soon.

And now I have another fug for the files, my Visa photos

I quote my mother, who once said, after I showed her a particularly bad driver's license photo of me, "Marnie, for a pretty girl, you sure do photograph ugly." I may be paraphrasing.

I thought it'd be fun to have my mom send me some pictures from when I was a kid. These totally crack me up and I hope they'll make you smile too.

Catch them all, after the bump.

What do you say when someone whose blog you love writes you and says she'd love to work on a book with you?
You say, "SURE!"
What do you then say when she asks if you can design the ugliest patterns known to man... out of acrylic yarn circa 1965?
Well, I still said yes and am now looking into various witness protection programs. I hear the French have an excellent one. Oui Oui!
The result is that I have my name in one of the most hilarious books out there.

It's like her blog on paper. What would you call that? A plog? Darn new fangled contraptions!
For those whose sarcasm-dar is malfunctioning, that was a joke
You can click on the image to go get yourself a copy, just promise me that you won't judge me by the patterns, except to conclude that sometimes, it takes a certain skill to make something truly ugly. That's what I tell myself so I can sleep at night. It's my mantra.

On another note, I leave for India on Sunday, so if I haven't replied to your comments, it's not because I'm rude or hate you, I'm just scurrying around all day, trying to get things in order. Expect light or non-existent blogging and emailing all next week. If I can get a good connection during my "me" time, I'll post updates. Otherwise, you'll hear all about it upon my return.

Really, though, maybe it should be:
This Californian is becoming an Oregonian
or
This Angeleno is becoming and Portlandian if the Oregonian variety (so as not to be confused with those Portlandians of the Mainenites variety).
But I'm splitting hairs here, the point is, Leo and I are moving to Portland Oregon. Leo goes up on Monday to start a new job on the 7th.

It is not without some apprehension that I go. I've lived in Los Angeles for almost 5 years and I have met so many wonderful people, a few of whom, to my delight, even count me among their friends. As I'm predisposed to hermit-like behavior, this is no small feat, in my mind. I will miss them terribly.

Yet, I also look upon all this as an exciting opportunity to start fresh and new and discover an area I've never been before. What? Didn't I mention that? Oh, yah, neither Leo nor I have ever been to Oregon. I'm not averse to change, and I love exploring new cities. It's scary to know I'll be jobless in a month, but with rents half the price of the LA area, I can pretty much sell hemp jewelry on a street corner and still contribute my part to the household expenses.

I've already checked and it appears there are several yarn shops in the Portland area. And those cute little Pygoras from a couple days ago? They hail from Oregon, which bodes well for my spinning future.

So if any of you who live, have lived, or frequently visit Oregon, have suggestions for me, please send them my way.

I'll do my best to keep posting during the transition, but with our home computer going up north without me, and with all the upheaval, I make no promises, expressed or implied, that blogging will continue as normal.

Who knew moving to Portland would garner me so many comments? It's almost frightening how many people love the city and how few bad things people have to say about the area (rain and you can't pump your own gas, I think I can live with both).
There are so many of you I need to write back to. I can't believe how many great suggestions you've sent and warm welcomes you've offered. I'm really looking forward to moving.
I don't arrive in Oregon until the end of August, and in the mean time, I hope to be able to see all my LA friends, so I can say goodbye.

But enough of that, take a look at my yummy pygora yarn.

Here it is almost completely spun up. The kit comes with half an ounce (about 14 grams) of each fiber, so that's just enough to fill up one of my smaller spindles.

I simply loved spinning this stuff. I don't know enough about the properties of various fibers to say why, I just know that whatever it is, I'm able to spin it up superfine, balanced, soft and with a bit of loft.

I've included a dime for scale. The yarn is a two ply and check this out...

Balance, baby!

This hasn't been washed yet, it's right off the spindle. I have just shy of 54 yards (49 meters) of yarn here. Since pygora is aplenty in Portland, I plan to get more soon.

I've now started spinning some of the Yak fiber and it's not going quite as well. It's more poofy and fluffy and I don't quite have the best technique for managing that sort of fiber. It's gotten better as I've worked with it, but compared to the pygora, it's pretty crude looking.

In a little while, I'm off to Blogher, then a visit with a friend in San Francisco, then back home to help Leo pack up the truck. It's quite a weekend, indeed.

So, the second N2JW has been progressing at a speed that would make most glaciers honk in frustration at my pace. I mean, this baby has been taking forever.

At Blogher, I knew nobody. This is not like Stitches was. I traveled with my mother, and met a great deal of friends while there. Further, in the world of knit bloggers, I'm like a C list star. I ain't no Yarn Harlot, but people have stumbled upon me on occasion. For comparison's sake, I'd put myself at about a Carrot Top. At Blogher, I had my normal anonymity, which is fine, but it does mean that I have to make the horrifying step of socializing without any safety net. Let me see if I can find a good knitting analogy here. That would be like my saying that I was going to use the most slippery needles on earth, and knit a complex lace shawl with 600 stitches per row, in mohair, with no life line. And if that doesn't scare you, I would ask you to shoosh, because I don't want to hear it.

So how does an introvert of my neurotic level adapt? She knits. She knits like a fiend and the results; a finished pair of N2JW socks done lickity split. In fact, I was so sad to be done, I toyed with the idea of knitting a third sock, because the only other knitting project I brought is too complex to allow me to knit while paying attention to things around me.

But Blogher was great. If my battery in my camera hadn't been dead (duh) I would have pictures to prove it. The panel on which I was asked to speak was called "Is the next Martha Stewart a blogger?" and was moderated by Maggie Mason. If you ever meet her, please, stop her and beg her for insight. She did a brilliant job moderating and imparted so much level headed wisdom and kindness. I feel like she could done the panel solo and would not have left a single question unanswered.

My fellow panelists were (in alphabetical order for lack of a better option):
Andrea Scher: Despite her proclamation that she was nervous, Andrea brought a warmth and spirit to the group. She lives by the motto that things should be "Fun and Easy" which are words to live by if ever there were any. Hearing about how she came to an understanding that she needed help with her business and how it really liberated her to do what was most satisfying for her, was wonderful. I think we can all take a page from her book, there.

Gayla Trail: A true perfectionist, Gayla really drove home how important it was to impart your own values in what you do. No aspect of her business is done halfway and she gives a great deal of thought to everything she associates herself with. I really respect her sense of principal and dedication.

Pim Techamuanvivit: Like a sparkly ray of sunshine. Her enthusiasm is absolutely contagious. She seemed to have a little slice of experience in every bit of media and an air of confidence to pull it all together. She offered wonderful pearls of wisdom for expanding one's reach and did it all with a beaming smile.

I felt like a girl among women on the panel but wouldn't trade the experience for anything.

Next post: pattern notes for N2JWs.

I wanted my next post to be about my new socks, but forget that, I'm gonna have myself a pity party and you are all invited. Get your hats and your noise makers, suck the helium out of the balloons and talk like Mickey Mouse, because I have a bad case of the “poor mes” right now.

At 11PM last night I kissed my puppy and Leo goodbye and they drove off into the starlit night for Oregon. And perhaps I cried maybe a bit because a month away from the two of them sound heart wrenchingly lonely. And maybe I worry that they'll be abducted by aliens and I'll never see them again because while I don't actually believe in alien abductions I do believe in horrible unexpected things happening to people I love, so I'm sad. But Leo has been sending me pictures from his phone of the little girl enjoying her trek to lands unknown (at least to us)

The move has been no small feat for us, and the ordeal doesn't end any time soon. To start with, since we are both trying to be frugal and we are moving on different dates, Leo will be unpacking the truck by himself. On the plus side, we've decided to sell most of our larger furniture, but on the downside, we're still keeping both motorcycles, our queen sized mattress and box spring, our 32" TV, and a few other choice back breakers.

As a side note, Leo drew quite a crowd driving the motorcycles up the ramp of a moving truck. I’m pretty sure everyone was waiting for him to fall off the side or crash into the boxes already sitting in back.

Speaking of moving trucks, I'm not going to name any names, but we are not happy with our moving truck experience. The company in question (whose name may rhyme with "poo-ball") has set us off our schedule by a whole day. Originally, we were scheduled to pick up our truck on Monday morning at 9AM. We were supposed to find out which LA office we were to pick up our truck, no later than 5PM on Sunday night. At around 6PM we were informed that they didn't know when or where we'd be able to pick up the truck the next day, that they hadn't even scheduled us a truck yet and that they'd call us on Monday and let us know. We made our reservation over two weeks prior and since one of us still has a job to go to, we were looking at a long couple of days.

So after several hours of listening to hold music and being told by countless customer service reps that the branch office would be notified of the urgency of our need for a truck, we were finally told we could pick up a truck in an office that ended up taking about 45 minutes to get to. Good times.

We worked for two solid days with only the barest minimum of sleep, but we finally got most of what we hoped to pack, into the truck. Now, I need to get all the remaining flotsam and jetsam out of the house (to Goodwill with what we they'll take and to the trash with the rest) then try to sell the furniture on Craig's list.

On the upside, it'll be a lonely and grueling two weeks to get the house in order, but after that, I'm staying with a friend who has graciously offered to drive the scenic route to Oregon with me the weekend of the 26th. We'll be taking a long slow journey up the cost, camping as needed to refresh ourselves and stopping for every scenic view we deem worthy. Since I'm easily amused there may be a lot of stops along the way.

I want to thank you all for attending my pity party. Please feel free to take home any leftovers that you’d like. I definitely won’t eat them all myself. I’ll grab your jackets from the extra room and see you out the front door.