And the knitting spree continues

This has to be the most labour-intensive and most difficult project I've ever actually finished. The number of four-inch-long, never-to-be-legwarmers knitted panels I have lying around is astounding, so I'm probably prouder of myself than I should be for finishing this hat. I used a pattern from ravelry.com called Intuitive, although I used bigger needles and yarn than the designer did, and didn't adjust the number of stitches to cast on - I've always been of the belief that I have this unfathomably huge head, but it appears this isn't the case. So the hat is kind of big; I think I'll have to put some elastic in the ribbed part so it stays on my unfortunately-normal-sized head.

The BF is in Japan for the week, and as such missed out on the second annual Dannygiving (which also happened to be my first proper Thanksgiving celebration), during which I drank no less than half a gallon of Grown Up Eggnog (I made it myself, and, I don't mean to brag, it tasted like it was made by the gods themselves) and ate my weight in turkey, candied yams (henceforth known as "yammy pudding") potatoes, green bean casserole, and many, many pies. Thus far Thanksgiving is my favourite American holiday, by a mile. It is the one time a year that you're actually encouraged to not hide the fact that you're a fat-ass glutton. Obviously, this sits well with me.

When I was 22

First ever F-Off huge pumpkin at a pumpkin patch in Lafayette, IN

At the age of 22, I:

-       moved overseas

-       spent time in three countries

-       Visited more than twenty cities, in more than 15 different states.

-       Lived in a college dorm (FML)

-       Navigated my way through NYC, Toronto and Ottawa, as well as countless airports all by myself.

-       Studied abroad for a year

-       Was accepted to complete my degree overseas

-       Joined a roller derby team

-       Overcame my crippling social retardation and can now almost function in most social situations

-       Saw Spoon in concert

-       Lived without a car for one year, for the first time since I was 17

-       Lost 15 lbs

-       Met more incredible people than I could even possibly count

-       Learned to really appreciate good beer

-       Didn’t die

When I was 22, I

-       saw snow

-       ate pulled pork

-       ate smores

-       experienced Thanksgiving

-       experienced Halloween

-       experienced Fall

-       got stitches

-       played dodgeball

-       got an A at university

-       competed in an actual team sport

-       saw a huge pumpkin

-       went to Homecoming

-       went to an apple orchard

-       went to Canada

-       sang karaoke

for the very first time in my life.

My favourite bands when I was 22 were The Smiths, The Cure, Beck, Spoon, They Might Be Giants, Ben Folds, The Hives.

My heroes when I was 22 were David Sedaris, Suzy Hotrod, Eddie Izzard, Bonnie Thunders, Michael Cera, Quadzilla, Kristen Wiig, C. D. Payne, and your mum. 

My favourite foods when I was 22 were pulled pork sandwiches, French fries, bacon, and beer. Ha ha! Thanks, America, you sonofabitch. I’m confident that when the novelty wears off, I’ll go back to normal food again. I have this strange thing with eating food that isn’t normally available to me, even if it’s really bad. For instance, I really don’t like stuff that’s pumpkin flavoured, but I’ll buy it every chance I get and choke it down, just because I never had the option before. Same goes for root beer. Jon says he won’t be allowing me to buy either of these things anymore, now that he knows the truth.

I feel as thought the enormity of the last year makes up for the mediocrity of the previous 21. One of my friends who is quite a bit younger than me told me how I had done and seen so much more than she had, but I reminded her that this is literally more than I did in the first twenty one years of my life put together. 

In any case, I'm kicking myself and trying to figure out why I didn't decide to do the 365 project, because this has been an effing amazing 365 days.

Well, I guess there's always next year.

Feelin' Knitty

I have been feeling knitty over the last couple of weeks. I think it's because I find the repetition and the act of physically making something soothing, when I'm constantly up researching and writing papers and reading exorbitant amounts of fiction for the literature classes I over-ambitiously chose three months ago. Or, maybe it's because it's cold as shit and I'm too poor to buy clothes. Either way, I'm really enjoying it. I just finished this divinely chunky scarf with a wooden button, a pattern by Jane Richmond, who I now officially have a craft crush on. 

I'm currently knitty a slouchy beanie; my first foray into circular needles thus far looking promising. I'll upload a photo and a link to the pattern once I'm done! I don't want to show you what I'm aiming for yet, because if and when my hat turns into a tangled clump of wool resembling a soggy pancake, I don't want people ridiculing me and making my immense shame any worse.

As I sat on the bus last week on my way to have coffee with my super cool new friends, knitting my scarf and listening to Pomplamoose covering Mrs Robinson, excited to see Jon and full of butterflies for that weekend's bout, I realised something important: my life is awesome. And, surprisingly, it wasn't the huge deal of living overseas that made me realise that - it was silly little things, like laughing and drinking coffee and fawning over my half-scarf. 

Speaking of being overjoyed, it's my birthday tomorrow - look at the present I got from the sweetest girl in the world. Literally, Steph is the sweetest girl in the world - and I can say that now, because I've been to the world. I'm going to take my new Diana camera to Chicago with and me and buy some 120 film so I can get some great photos of the WFTDA roller derby Championships, and of Jon, my friends and I buffooning around the city. 

How not to holiday

Ottawa, ON

August 2010

I am a spectacularly crap tourist. Once upon a time, when planning holidays, I would spend the month leading up to my trip researching my destination to within an inch of its life. How do I get downtown from the airport? Where is the airport? Where should I stay? What should I do? Where do the locals eat? Where can I see a band? Do they have a good art gallery? Where can I get a crème brulee? Should I bring thermal underwear? And, speaking of underwear, is there a laundromat close enough that I won’t have to resort to the ol’ 'inside out 'n' back to front'?

For my first overseas trip, I constructed an enormous Word document featuring a hideously detailed itinerary, a backup itinerary in case anything on my real itinerary turned out to be lame or a scam, and contact details for any and all airports, hotels, and car rental companies I might come into contact with. I researched public transport options from the airport to downtown, then put together a walking map from the drop-off point to my hotel. I then printed the whole thing out and had it bound together - I was basically a fanny pack and a sun visor away from being a 50-year-old Floridian woman.

These days, however, my forward planning involves booking a flight, and, if I’m lucky, finding somewhere to put my stuff and sleep for the week. The situation deteriorates even more so, should I find myself travelling alone. I arrive in the airport at my destination, excited but largely disorientated and confused, and head directly towards the giant wall of brochures that every plane station invariably features. I make sure to grab a good city map, and then proceed to furiously molest the display, rabidly snatching up every brochure I can see - these will constitute my itinerary for the trip. After tracking down some sort of transportation from the airport to my hotel, I use the drive downtown, not to look at my surroundings, but to sift through my hefty brochure loot. It's at this point I normally realize that I have three copies of most things, and that half of them are advertising elderly walking tours and scenic helicopter rides – i.e. largely unappealing, and/or for millionaires only. After whittling out the lemons, I’m usually left with maybe two ideas for things to do, which might keep me going for about one afternoon.

For some reason, the idea of being alone for an extended period of time is generally accompanied by that paralyzing fear we all know and love, regardless of the situation. Whether I've gotten lost in a Super Target for days and haven't been able to find a single staff member, or if I'm travelling in a beautiful and fascinating city, the ominous feeling of my impending loneliness is always the same. I become overwhelmed by the prospect of having to find enough activities to occupy myself for the whole time, and invariably end up running errands for the duration of my holiday. Suddenly I realise that replacing the screen protector on my iPod Touch is my first and only priority. I mean, the corners of my current one are peeling up, they're losing their stickiness - we're talking life and death. I can't fathom how I didn't recognize the severity of the situation until just now - and what luck, that I should have this week away from all my responsibilities to devote 100% of my focus to the task of acquiring a new one. And this is a recurring phenomenon - when I was in Ottawa last month, I visited six different Shoppers Drug Marts one day trying to find a Neutrogena cleanser I had seen in SELF magazine on my flight up there and realized I couldn't live without. 

So if you ever find yourself traveling somewhere with me, I apologize - but you have to realize that if I don't find a place to get a haircut immediately, we're both going to be in trouble. 

Reasons I am an Idiot, #481

What I meant to say at the beginning of the whip/plow drill: 
"Do you want to whip first, or do you want to be whipped?"

What I actually said at the beginning of the whip/plow drill:
"Do you want to plow first, or do you want to be plowed?"

I'm extremely fortunate, in that my teammates don't seem to mind the fact that I am an imbecile. Or, perhaps they think that it's because I'm foreign, and I might be normal in my own country.

Either way, I think we can all agree that I should never operate heavy machinery, or give directions to anyone.

I heart Verhoeven

I hope you won't judge me when I tell you how hilarious I find this tweet.

Reasons why September will be awesome

Summer in America was a strange time for me. It felt a lot like what I imagine living in a black hole would be like, with a touch of Groundhog Day thrown in for good measure. In my various eavesdroppings around the coffee shop in which I may as well live for the amount of time I spend here, I've heard people complaining about how fast the summer went. It had the complete opposite feeling for me - I had nothing to do all day for about three months except go to roller derby practice, clean the house, and muck around with my friends. I had a ridiculous sleeping pattern, normally sleeping from 2am until midday, then waking up feeling completely disoriented and...blank, somehow. It felt like I was living in a bizarre alternate universe, where school or employment didn't exist.

I find it really hard to be productive in any way, shape or form when I have no regular routine or daily schedule - and, as a result, I wrote a grand total of nothing for the whole summer. Inexplicably, now that I'm incredibly busy again, I'm feeling inspired to write again and have started writing three different pieces. I'm hoping I'll get them finished, edited and tidied up in the next couple of weeks, because I'm feeling incredibly guilty for ignoring my poor blog this whole time (does anybody else feel like an absolute wanker using the word 'blog'? I feel like a pretentious turd when I say it. I shall henceforth call this site my digital portfolio. No, wait, that's almost worse).

In any case, I thought I'd kick start the semester slash month of September with an exercise in gratitude! Think of me as a poor, white Oprah, passing on my favourite things to all and sundry. Without further ado, I present to you: Reasons why September will be Awesome.

***

The new season of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. I can't even explain to you all the ways in which I love this show. It's a pretty incredible story: a bunch of friends wanted to make a TV show, so they did. They filmed their pilot for less than $100, presented it to a bunch of networks, and one of them picked it up. The end. This tumblr is incredible, by the by. Here are some of my favourites from it:

***

Three day weekend in t minus two days!

***

Indy's Irish Festival in downtown Indianapolis. The manfriend and I have three day passes - I'm going to drink a ton of beer and pet a leprechaun. 

***

Easy A comes out. I'm all about Emma Stone, and by golly, if Easy A doesn't look freaking awesome. When I first happened upon this video, I watched it about forty times consecutively. 

***

One of my derby heroes, Suzy Hotrod of Gotham City 

A month of intensive derby conditioning. After a crazy couple of months for the Lafayette Brawlin' Dolls (three bouts in seven days! Two five-hour road trips to away bouts in as many weeks!) we finally have a month off. That in no way means we have a month off, however, as we're changing up practices, implementing new drills, and skating more than ever. I'm skating about four days a week now and kicking my ass at practice - I really want to work on my endurance, and getting my five lap time down to 45 seconds. 

***

It's no longer so warm I get heat stroke on a daily basis. Up until about two weeks ago, it was so hot here every day and night that there was little else I could do beside sit on the floor in my bedroom (because that's where my window-mounted fan points) and watch TV on my laptop while not moving. It was starting to get really old.

***

The leaves start to turn. This is officially my first Fall ever, what what! We went to the Fort Harrison State Park last week and walked through the foresty bit, where I got to step on many a crunchy leaf! I can't tell you how excited I am for the whole place to look like this:

***

Getting to spend a heap of time with this guy:

I know, right? Go me.


***

This so closely resembles my own life that it's not even funny. 
 

New 30 Rock! Oh, Liz Lemon, you've come back for me! 

***

Finding a ton of sweet new music to listen to:

I love this 80s-sounding version even more than the one I have. Swoon!

You, my dears, are welcome.