Blogging Without Obligation.  Hmmm.  You mean I should let go of guilt about not blogging?  Let’s discuss . . .

Thanks for the link, Dave.


Career Meme

September 15, 2007

Love Cecily’s new meme:

The career meme…
1. Go to Career Cruising,
2. Put in Username: nycareers and Password: landmark.
3. Take their “Career Matchmaker” quiz.
4. Post the top twenty results.
5. Put the careers you have seriously considered in bold.
6. Italicize any that are part of your current job/career.






Foreign Language Instructor


ESL Teacher


Desktop Publisher


Computer Trainer


Cartoonist / Comic Illustrator




Fashion Designer




Set Designer


Costume Designer


Addictions Counselor


Motivational Speaker


Corporate Trainer


Communications Specialist




Graphic Designer


Print Journalist



Since I’m currently unemployed, I can’t italicize anything.  I did get a kick out of some of the choices.  Maybe clergyman (or clergyperson) is in my future. 😉

I’m 16004 days old.

September 8, 2007

How about you? 

Personality test

August 15, 2007

Click to view my Personality Profile page

I’ve taken this test before, and this time it actually seems to fit me. And the test said only 2% of the population are “dreamer, visionary.” Read here: freak. Sure looks lopsided.

after I read this.


August 4, 2007

I’ve read on several blogs that people are resurrecting their unfinished objects and finishing or frogging them.  I know, I’m eight months behind; so what else is new?  I looked at the enormous stack of UFOs unfinished for many reasons, mostly my easily diverted attention span, and decided to frog several projects.

I don’t have any pictures to prove it, you’ll just have to take my word for it.  The entrelac bag that was almost done and then had a BIG mistake, a couple of shawls begun and stopped mid-pattern (where do I begin again?), the first few pattern repeats of a mitered bag, a baby kimono that was going to run out of yarn before I finished . . .

I began to ravel (or unravel, you choose) the yarn.  The pulling apart of stitches had a soothing, rhythmic feel of finality (except for the Noro Kureyon which felts into itself and won’t come apart @#$##@).  I thought about the objects I’d planned to knit that wouldn’t be made.  I could have finished them, but I disliked them–for different reasons.  Wrong shape, mistakes, lost my place in the design and would mess it up for sure if I restarted.

I could have gone ahead and finished them, but I know I would have been unhappy with the results.  Yes, I’d have the take-away of “lessons learned” (like don’t be a lazy*ss) or a gift I could give someone.  I could say I persevered.

Another part of me spoke up–that yarn is beautiful; use it for something I love.  Don’t spend any more hours on something that will not be worth it.  Don’t guilt myself into finishing the project.  Would I really want to give someone a gift I don’t like; would I want to receive something like that?  No and no.

I opted to frog the stack of UFOs, wind them into balls or hanks, and set them in a pile.  The yarn is twisty, kinked from the memory of stitches held.  I’ll have to wash it and lay it out to dry to smooth out the yarn.  Or not.  With that choice, any new project will retain the bumpy memories of former projects.

It struck me that I am like my unravelry.  I am in the process of pulling apart the stitches of a marriage and a life that is a UFO–tossed in the neglected pile–unloved, unwanted.  I can leave it stuffed in one of my hundreds of bags, hoping someday to return to it, to correct the mistakes, to love again what is now hopelessly too small or too outdated.  Or I can unravel it and save the yarn.  The fiber is beautiful, even if the half-finished garment leaves something to be desired.

And so I frog; it’s worth saving.  I will pull apart each stitch with care; I’ll keep unraveling though the yarn breaks, gets knotted and has a million kinks.  I won’t give up.

Someday–maybe today, maybe not–I’ll look for a new pattern.  One that’s more flattering, one that’s a different kind of challenge, one that shows the beauty of the yarn that is me.

What would you call this?  The only comments I can come up with are snotty, so I’ll let you guys weigh in.

In my Easter bonnet

April 5, 2007

with all the frills upon it . . .

How happy we look standing in front of my dad’s favorite car!  I wonder what we are giggling about.  Some sister thing.  Notice the reflection of the trees in the car window–a little Palm Sunday reminder.

I’m the little one who, from all appearances, has on nothing that matches.  Green dress, lemon-cake-with-fondant-icing Easter bonnet and red Mary Janes.  I won’t even blame my mom because I bet I demanded to wear the red shoes. That’s how I’ve always rolled.  And see how big my gloves are?  I still can’t find gloves to fit.

The cutie on the left is my big sister, and I’m embarrassed to say that I can’t remember how to spell her name.  My parents usually call us by our initials, so to me she is TA (then there’s LK, HK, JT and JO).  She went to heaven 39 years ago February.

She loved Jesus.  One day when she was five, she told my parents very emphatically, “I want to go see Jesus.”  They did the usual parent thing, “You will–someday.”

“NO! She told them, “I want to go see him NOW!”  Not long after that, she did.

I celebrate Easter now as I did in that picture–remembering what Christ did.  Maybe with a little greater depth; sometimes not.  He was crucified, buried and rose again the third day according to the Scriptures.  I embrace the bitter of Good Friday and the sweet of Easter Sunday.  My heart rejoices because I am reconciled–to God, to others and to myself (at least in theory).  I have eternal life; it is already begun.

In the midst of the grand celebration of this holiest time of the year, I will let my feelings spill out.  I will be loud and lift my voice with my brothers and sisters in grateful and astonished thanksgiving.  I’ll feel the awe of Easter morning that puts Christmas morning to shame.

But afterward, I shall find a time to be still.  I will ponder the quiet eagerness I feel when the trumpets have died down.  And I’ll know it’s because the little girl with the dessert tray Easter bonnet and the ginormous gloves will get to see her big sister again–some day soon.

He is risen!

He is risen indeed.

I’ve been thinking about that a lot.  Not sure why.  The one that comes to mind for me is this comment:

“Isn’t it weird that Lou Gehrig ended up getting Lou Gehrig’s disease?  What are the odds of that?”

I am NOT making this up.  Someone actually said it, and she wasn’t trying to be funny.  It makes me laugh every time I think of it.

How about you?  What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard anyone say?

Shaken, not stirred

April 4, 2007

Thanks for your advice on the nose piercing conundrum. For now, I bow to the conventional wisdom that it might be hard to job hunt with a piercing. But once I find a job–boy howdy!

I tend to seek calm waters in life (read here–comfort zone, big time). But whenever I do, something comes along to shake me up. So here’s what’s been shaking me up lately:

Amazing Grace (the movie). Some friends called it heavy-handed. I thought it was wonderful. I felt inspired to mesh a life of contemplation with a life of service and action (although I much prefer the non-action part).

And speaking of action–check out Dixon’s posts on the Jesus action figure (JAF). Are you allowed to say Jesus and nipples in the same sentence? His take on that is very thought-provoking.

Somerset Maugham’s The Painted Veil. My friend gave me the book, and I read it. Darn you, Somerset, darn you all to heck. I resisted reading it (despite the fact that I wanted to see the movie. Cannot. say. no. to. Edward. Norton.), because I am stilled scarred after more than a quarter century from being forced to read Of Human Bondage in high school. Dude managed to cram a lot of misery in those five hundred (or however many) pages. I can still feel its cloying fingers grabbing for me after all these years.

I have to confess that although I found the protagonist of The Painted Veil almost completely without merit, I was unable to put the book down. Maugham’s writing is so brilliant. I hate him. And I love him. Couldn’t he write about something happy? The whole “life sucks and then you die” approach is really draining for the reader. And probably for the writer too.

Watched The DaVinci Code last night. I love Tom Hanks; I can’t help it. And though I will never watch some of his movies on principal, he is a great actor. (I also watched Forrest Gump this weekend. He totally deserved the Oscar for that movie.) Back to DaVinci. I read the book and thought it average. I much preferred Dan Brown’s Angels & Demons. The movie, to me, felt incredibly heavy-handed. I found the whole premise incredibly hard to stomach. The actor who played Silas, though, stood out as the best part of the entire movie. His yearning to be free of the evil in his nature; his pain at his failures and his past; the dichotomy of murdering a nun and then administering last rights to her. Brilliant. And Alfred Molina and Jean Reno: love those guys.

Lots of food for thought as I sit here on this blustery April day watching random snowflakes flit past my window. Last week it was 80 degrees. This week? Not so much. That’s the mystery of spring, I guess.

Speaking of spring, my greatest accomplishment so far is spring cleaning. Those of you who’ve seen my house know exactly how enormous that is. My kids and I spent a big chunk of spring break cleaning, and I am pleased beyond measure at how much better the house looks and I feel.

I gave the dog his spring haircut and bath (I think I could make three other dogs from the hair I cut off). Now he has to wear a sweater because he’s almost bald and shivering. But he’s clean!

On the knitting front, I’ve started a prayer shawl using the Chatelaine stitch (knit one row in main color, purl one row in MC, P3K3 next row in contrasting color, K3P3 in CC). So far so good (on row five). Now that I’ve cleaned up, I can take a better inventory of how many UFOs I have and what needs to hit the frog pond.

Speaking of frogs, I met a guy recently who recommended the book–Eat That Frog!: 21 Great Ways to Stop Procrastinating and Get More Done in Less Time. The premise is that if you have to eat a frog a day, it’s better to do it first thing in the morning. I’m happy to say that I’ve been eating the frogs of cleaning, bill paying, organizing, making appointments, putting air in car tires. There’s a whole durn pond of frogs awaitin’ to be et, but I’m making progress, my friends.

Next time, I’ll post about shopping bargains, packages received and some kickin’ yarn. And just a quick observation. I keep getting hits from porno sites because one of my post titles is a reference to a burning bush (A PLANT, you perverts!). Guess I’ll have to change it to Moses’ verge or something. Good grief.  They’d better watch out or I’ll sic my Moses and Jesus action figures on them.

Maybe it’s all the frogs I’ve eaten that have left me a little shaken. Ah well, I’m hopping off to fix some dinner for the tadpoles.