Numb + Scared + Really Pissed Off = Me

Ok, so you know that thing you do where..ya know...you get up in the morning and you eat breakfast, then you shower and get dressed and drive? That...uumm....damn...oh yeah! Work! That thing! Ya know where you have this...job thing and it helps you buy yarn and gives you a place to live where you store the yarn? Oh and it pays for the vehicle that takes you to the yarn store? Ooh ooh and it pays for the internet thingy where you get to talk to all your blog friends? That work thing? Yeah....

So Tuesday afternoon we found out they're doing lay offs at work. So like, my last day is December 29th. And remember how I said T and I work at the same place? Yeah so his last day is February 28th. So like, 2 people, married, living in the same house, both getting laid off. And we live in a town where ' job market' is an oxymoron. There isn't one. You can work at the college where they don't hire anyone unless you went there at some point, or retail and I am so not going back to retail. No really. I feel rather strongly on that subject. No retail. Allow me to demonstrate the ability for me to hate retail.

Me: So what the hell are we gonna do now?

T: Ummm.....

Me: Yeah, my thoughts too, dude.

T: Well, we have options, baby. It's not like we don't have job skills.

Me: *glare of hatred* Don't say it.

T: Well, darling, you are good at retail and you have all of that experience.

Me: Looking for sharp object to poke your eyes out with now.

T: Don't be silly, I'm being serious.

Me: I totally told you 5 years ago I wasn't ever going back to retail.

T: I know you don't like it but...

Me: No! Are you deaf? No retail. Don't make me cuss at you. Don't look at me like that, I will cuss you.

T: You're being unreasonable.

Me: Ok, let me explain. Retail + Me = NOT. I won't go back to retail. No. I would rather stand on the edge of a cliff, take a full bottle of arsenic, slit my wrists, drink a bottle of bleach, take an entire bottle of sleeping pills, then shoot myself in the fucking face so that I fall off of said cliff before I go back into retail.

T: You're not right. In the head I mean.

Me: No retail.

T: Well, I gather you feel rather strongly about this.

Me: Just a smidge dear, just a smidge. And you made me cuss you. You were warned.

T: So how bad will the disappointment be when you tell your blog friends you can't make it to Austin.

Me: I'm sorry, were you speaking?

T: We have to save money.

Me: Eat shit, dear, I am so going to Austin. I will eat light or whatever. I really, really need this trip now and if you try and tell me no, it won't be me on said cliff and it will be a different face I shoot. *glare*

T: Well, ok, so you'll have fun in Austin then.

Me: Yep.

So yeah now what? I mean, starting over sucks ass, guys. I've never left a job without another one lined up. We can't just pack up and move, we own our house. We have 5 dogs and a cat. Apartments are kinda out of the question. T's medicine is $1,500 a freaking month without our insurance. Plus, this is kinda putting stress on him and if he relapses due to this shit? I am so gonna sue the pants off these bastards. And dammit, I like my job! I like the people I work with! I make good money for our area. ARRRGGGG!

Tuesday I cried. A lot. Wednesday I was numb. Today I was just really pissed off about it all. I hate corporate politics. We have a guy in our room that is in the middle of adopting a baby. We have a 50 year old woman with cancer. We have a 52 year old supervisor that sold everything after her husband died, packed up and moved here to start over. We have a lot of single moms where I work. Out of 120 people in our location, 66 are being laid off. For where we live, that's flooding the market with people looking for the same types of jobs.

Did I mention how much I hate retail?

Hear Ye, Hear Ye!

The time and date are set. The management has been forewarned. So come one, come all, to the First (maybe only) Annual (bi-annual, monthly, or whatever) Texas (Or where ever) Knitter/Crocheter/Blogger/Crazy Persons Get Together!!! The title is a little long, but I wasn't making t-shirts anyway. So here's the deal. If you wanna come hang out and meet up and get to know your fellow bloggers, you're invited! If you wanna come just for food and laughs, you're invited! You don't have to be a knitter or a crocheter or a blogger. Just be aware you may be one or all of these things before you leave. Hell, you don't even have to live in Texas. It just makes the drive shorter.

DETAILS!!!!!

What: A bunch of loonies sitting around yakking, eating and possibly playing with yarn.

When: October 14, 2006 from 11 am until they throw our sorry asses out the door or we decide to go torment someone else.

Where: Opal Divine's Penn Field at 3601 S. Congress Ave. Ste. K100 in Austin, Texas.

Why: Because we can! And we want to! And if you guys leave me sitting there alone feeling stupid I shall show you the true meaning of Stalker! (Kidding. Maybe.)

How: Now here's the trick. I suggest car pooling and a designated driver. Seriously. Jesus loves me and if you get into an accident and die because of our get together, he will resurrect your ass for me so I can kick it all over this state and kill you again. Nuff said. We don't play that drunk driver game here. Dammit.

Now, it has come to my attention from the dear Tina that this date is also the same as the Lonestar Knitters Knit Out and Crochet at Border's Bookstore. Anyone for combining brunch at Opal Divine's then descending on Borders to digest, knit/crochet en mass to scare the (To coin a Harlot phrase) muggles with out hooks and pointy sticks? I love the idea myself.

Now, the brunch thing is not a concrete engagement. I'll be there at (or around, you guys know me, huh Dene) 11:00 am and plan to hang around for quite a few hours and letting people drift in and out as they see fit. Just come in, grab a seat, order food and chat. You don't have to stay just cuz I am. I had planned to head off to the Knit Out around 3 pm anyway just to see what I could see and meet who I could meet. Fun stuff, dudes. Plus, there are yarn stores in town to hit up. Seriously.

If you don't make it to the restaurant and you see me at the Knit Out? For the love of wool people, stop me and say hi. I don't bite unless you ask nicely or spill queso on your shirt. Then all bets are off. But I would love to meet as many as I can cuz I'm a total dork. Just ask Christina. She knows what a big dork I am.

Who's going? Who all do I get to meet? Who all do I get to see again? This is gonna rule.

The Perfect Autumn & Winter Potpourri

The Perfect Autumn & Winter Potpourri

This is the perfect smell for your home for the Autumn and Winter seasons. If you like the smell of fresh apple pies, Christmas cookies, fruit cakes and wassail you’ll love the way this makes your house smell.

All ingredients are option and can be changed to suit your needs or wants. Basic recipe below.

1 small apple (Don’t go for the best taste, go for the strongest smell.)

1 small orange

1 small lemon

Vanilla Extract

Whole cloves

Nutmeg

Cinnamon

Allspice

Peel the apple, orange and lemon and place the peels in a 1 qt glass sauce pot. Add vanilla and spices according to what smells good to you. Like more vanilla? Go for it. Like more cinnamon? Let your smell guide you. Add water until about an inch from the top of the pan so it covers all ingredients. Place on stove and let heat over lowest heat possible. Walk away and enjoy the scent. As the water boils out, simply add more water to keep the ingredients from burning. You can cover and refrigerate over night and the scent will last approximately 5 days. Not bad for less than $2 in fruit!

If you’re worried about wasting the fruit, cut up the apple and the orange and place in a bowl with a sliced banana. Squeeze the juice out of the lemon into the bowl, mix and enjoy a light fruit salad.

____________________________________________

Dear Anonymous,

I have no idea who you are, but I am properly freaked out now, thanks. Do I still win a prize for being chicken shit? Cuz, I totally deserve one of those. I mean sure, I know people who know me personally and read the blog, but I don't know any who know my brother. My folks, yes, but my brother?

So, tell me who you are then umm..yeah so I know if my mom is actually reading this so I quit saying things like fuckerpants.

Love,

Stalker

Because Stupid Conversations Are Hereditary

So yesterday was my Mom's birthday (Happy B-Day, Boo!) and I didn't forget, but it was late when I was getting around to calling her. There was work, we needed a new vaccuum, Tinker needed toys, and I needed fruit for some potpourri. (I'll give you the recipe for the best damn homemade potpourri that will have you drooling, if you want it.) Getting home, there was hanging of the toy for Tinker to play with, assembling the new vaccuum (alone since hubby was outside) and dinner. So as I was winding up to call Mom, my cell phone rings. It's my brother.

Me: Hello?

Bro: You need to call Momma.

Me: Umm, yeah I know, it's her birthday. Hi to you too.

Bro: Then why haven't you called her yet? I was the first one to call her and I'm always the last cuz I'm an asshole.

Me: Ok, no argument there. And dude, it's called "life." You should get one.

Bro: Well I already called Larry (our oldest brother) and left him a nasty message.

Me: You so need to stop sucking up. You're already Mom's favorite and your head is so far up her butt that if she turns too fast it'll break your neck.

Bro: *Laughing his ass off* Oh like you're not Daddy's favorite.

Me: Well duh, I'm the girl, but I don't kiss his butt like you do Mom. I bet you told her you were gonna call us, didn't you.

Bro: Hell yeah

Me: Suck up.

Bro: Whatever, just call her and at least ACT like you love her.

Me: Oh what the f*ck ever, dude! Who took her on a freakin cruise?? I did. She knows I love her, and besides, none of you called me on my birthday.

Bro: I did too.

Me: Nope. Not you, Larry, Mom and Dad, the in-laws...nobody.

Bro: Well, nobody calls me on my birthday.

Me: That's cuz nobody likes you.

Bro: Why?

Me: Cuz you're an asshole.

Bro: Oh yeah. Call Momma.

Me: I will when you get the hell off my phone.

Bro: Oh yeah. Ok, see ya sis.

Me: blah blah blah.

Bro: *laughter* Bitch.

Me: *laughter* Asshole.

Don't you just love family?

At A Loss

I have no idea how to follow up that last post. The response was so awesome and you guys had me in tears laughing. I cannot tell you how often I giggled while knitting the sock just thinking about that post. So, I'll go with the basics. The pattern is an adaptation of Widdershins in the Summer 2006 Knitty. Basically, I just skipped the leg part and went straight into the cuff. The yarn used was Knitpicks Parade knit up on size 3 DPNs. That sounded like I knew what I was talking about, huh.

And since I am dying at work, I will simply distract you with an overload of cuteness. I leave you with Tinker and Alex napping.

For The Record

For this post, my dear Stalkees, there will be loads of sarcasm. I know shocking. For your enjoyment of this post, I recommend that anything that resides within quotation marks, such as "Hi, I'm Stalker Angie," should be read in the whiniest, nastiest, mocking, nasally voice known to man. Or woman. Think 5 year old children mocking each other with "I know you are, but what am I?" and you should be fine.

Hi! Me again. I think we need to set some things straight. I'm Stalker Angie. I stalk knitters. I crochet. I am a Crocheter. It's what I do. It's what I love to do. I do own knitting needles and they are quit pretty on their little knitting needle shelf where they will remain sitting pretty.

Don't get me wrong, I have knit in the past. A couple of scarves here, a hat or 2 there maybe even a cable once or twice. This does not even qualify me to be a knitter. I am so far from being a Knitter, it's unreal. Yes there is a difference between knitter and Knitter. You know there is. Here's my problem. In all my stalking and blog reading and such, I have become enamored with knitters and your gossamer lace shawls, your cabled sweaters, your fair isle cardigans, your quaint little socks and your felted purses. A lot of what you create has no equal in crochet. Well, not yet anyway. We're working on that and busting out of the granny square, but that's another tale for another time.

There are so many of you I consider friends and I know you mean well, but this has to stop, people. There are things in life I just don't do. I don't eat right. I don't exercise. I don't keep schedules worth a shit. I don't like cats. I don't knit socks. Stop suggesting the socks. Yes, I love sock yarn. I have lots of it. Why would I knit them? I have weird feet. I live in Texas where it is just hot as hell and we don't need socks. I don't like having my feet enclosed anyway, which is why I live in flip flops.

Every single time I wonder what project to move on to, what do I hear? "Oh, Stalker dear, you should knit some socks."

No.

"Have you tried knitting socks?"

No.

"Oh I bet you'd love knitting soooocks."

No.

"I'm not sure but look at these lovely socks I just finished."

Nice. No.

"Oooh, you could join our sock-a-long."

Hell no.

Stop it! I don't knit socks. I don't even like socks. Socks are the tool of the devil. It's like putting your feet in hell. I don't even own that many socks. Three pair of socks will see me through the winter and I only have to wash once a week. So for the very last damn time, I don't knit..


Well shit. Dammit, I blame all of you. I'm not going to start linking because it would take me forever. Oh there are some of you I blame more than the others, but I blame all of you. All of you with your parading of your socks and your self striping sock yarn. Your pretty little sock patterns that are oh so easy. You and your "Ooh look at me I knit socks." and "Aren't my socks so pretty?" and your "I don't know why anyone wouldn't want to knit socks."
Well, this doesn't make me a knitter! It's one sock! So I enjoyed knitting it. So I figured out DPNs. So I wanna make more socks. I am a crocheter! Wanna know why? Cuz 90% of you knitting suckers have cats. I hate cats! Noooo cats. I have 4 dogs. I am a crocheter. You can keep your lace and your cats all to yourselves. It's one damn sock. At least there's no..


DAMMIT! Meet Tinker. He showed up at Mom's house while I was binding off that damn sock. He lives with me and the dogs adore him. T adores him. He sleeps next to me. I blame you guys for this too. I give up. Someone hand me a crochet hook please.

Stalked! Also Hi!

Yes, it's me! I still have a blog! I just don't know if I still have any stalkees. *pout* So yeah, life has been ever so busy and it sucks and I am trying to get back into the swing of the blogging and the stalking. I have so many blog posts to catch up on it's not even funny. Well, I'm sure the posts themselves will be funny, but you get my meaning. The hardest part of this is getting back into my groove for the blog. I have a writing style. Kinda. Sorta. Shut up, do too. I just need to remember what makes you guys snort and spew coffee on your monitors is all. Cuz, ya know, I find that shit funny.

Anywho, waaaaaaay back on Aug 19th, I went to Yarntopia cuz my arm was twisted and such. You guys know how I hate yarn stores.

This is an adorable yarn store. The folks are friendly, helpful and they have a really nice selection. So anyway as you walk in, there's this sitting area on the right with a sofa and 2 chairs and as I walk in I hear:

"I'm stalking the Stalker."

I heard it, I'm just not sure I heard it right and I'd have loved to see the look on my face as the lady on the couch repeats herself with less surety and a slight question to the statement. Good job Ang. Let's make faces at the stalkees and scare them. And who was stalking me? Why none other than the very lovely Dene!

I like Dene. You guys would like her too. She's funny and tall. OMG so tall. Yes, I know I'm short as hell. Also, shut up. Dene is awesome and we had a good time playing with yarn. I promise she was having a better time than what the above picture shows. I think I caught her off guard. This is more like Dene.

I'm angry about this picture though because it was supposed to be a stalking shot and the yarn I was hiding behind didn't make it in the picture and it just looks like I tried to shove my camera up her nose for a picture. She looks lovely though. I also learned her real name and in true stalker fashion, I'm so not sharing. My info. All mine. Mwuahahahaha....*cough*...sorry.

So Hi Dene!! Maybe next time lunch can be involved cuz you were a blast to talk to. There might have been yarn purchases, but we're not saying. What happens in the yarn store stays in the yarn store, right? Like a mini Vegas? Hee!

So I've noticed something rather odd, and you guys can tell me if I just need to lay off the crack, if I just have an obsession or if it's just this way. I try my damnest not to judge people on the way they look. Some of the sweetest people I know can scare children and adults alike just by walking in the room. By the same token, I know some physically beautiful people that will rip your heart out because they want to. Granted, there are moments when some people just make me think "Oh someone needs a makeover soooo bad." But I slap myself mentally and try to find pleasant things about people.

Then there's knitters. What's the deal with knitters? I've met several in person now, I've seen a horde of them when I met the Harlot, and lots of them post their pics on their blogs. So what is it about knitters that there aren't any ugly ones? Why haven't I met any ugly knitters? Do they just appear beautiful to me because they have yarn with them? Is it because they are usually draped in something hand knit that we can fondle? Everytime I see a picture on a knitting blog I'm all "Oh wow, she's pretty/cute as hell/beautiful." Why haven't I seen a pic on a blog that made me say "Well, it's a lovely shawl....she should stick to pics of FO's."

Is it possible with all of my stalking I have just become enamored of knitters as a whole? If someone in need of a serious makeover picks up knitting needles and yarn, will I think they're pretty all of a sudden? Maybe we don't need makeover shows. Maybe we just need to teach everyone to carry yarn with them and everyone will be pretty and shiny. Maybe I need to lay off the wine coolers for a while. Or dammit, maybe you're all just that damn lovely.