If You Live in THE VALLEY

You can always bunk up at my place. 'Cuz you aint getting home tonite.

Sigh.

Ah LURVES heeeeim.



Check it out

At Least SOMEONE Cares About Me

And my advancing ennui (gawd, I *love* email):

From: Monkey Gurrl
Sent: Wednesday, March 28, 2007 3:45 PM
To: Monkey Gurrl’s Friends @ Work
Subject: I'm Bored.

I dare one of you (or all of you) to pull the fire alarm. Or call in a bomb threat.
-MG

-----Original Message-----

From: MGF@W #1
Sent: Wednesday, March 28, 2007 3:49 PM
To: Everyone
Subject: RE: I'm Bored.

I'm bored too, but I don't want to file down the stairs of the building. Instead, why don't you strip naked, walk into Administrator’s office scratching yourself and shoving pennies up your nose and tell her you might need to go home soon because you have bugs on you?

-----Original Message-----

From: MG
Sent: Wednesday, March 28, 2007 3:50 PM
To: MGFs@W
Subject: RE: I'm Bored.

I can see where that would entertain me, but what about you?!

-----Original Message-----

From: MGF@W #1
Sent: Wednesday, March 28, 2007 3:52 PM
To: Everyone
Subject: RE: I'm Bored.

I'll happen to passing by her office at the precise moment, with a cake on my head, walking Suri Cruise on a red velvet leash. So I'll see it all.


-----Original Message-----
From: MGF@W #2
Sent: Wednesday, March 28, 2007 3:53 PM
To: Everyone
Subject: RE: I'm Bored

Y'all are crazy.

I'm Bored.

I'm uninspired. I'm swatching (yes, SWATCHING) for either Marnie's Pismo or Carlsbad for a very dear friend, but he's out of the country and won't be receiving it for months - just in time for summer, no doubt.

I cleaned out my "convenient" stash - that what sits around me downstairs, and managed to come up with a garbage bag (scented, no less) of cast offs that I'm going to donate to Karyn and her kids. When I go through my upstairs stash, I think I'll split it between the Pali kids and Stitches. I like that most of the stuff Karyn's kids go to Stitches when completed, but I also like that a lot of yarn from Stitches goes to senior centers, where older folks on a fixed income can get their hands on fibery goodness (even if it is acrylic).

But I'm totally stressed out on the whole moving thing. I *hate* moving, and you would think I'd be used to it by now! There is so much freaking crap I have to get rid of (4 large garbage bags over last weekend!) The worst part is when it comes to crap that I know I *could* sell for some profit (every little bit helps), but then I remember that the only thing worse than moving is having a moving sale. Especially when you have no available "yard". Urgh. So I think I should donate it, but there are only a few specific places I'll donate to (on principle), like women and children's shelters, and they only have certain hours for accepting donations, yadda, yadda.

Aurgh. I need inspiration. And since I have no knitterly pix, I thought I'd share these with you - Baby Steven and Baby Oh decided to have a birfday party for Gus-Gus and Stella. Don't they look excited?!
Stella, with the ever lovely Miss Oh!

My Gus-Gus!!

Miss Oh! and "Baby Steven" who, according to his mom "has been such a shit for a week. talking back. not listening. calling me names. pushing his sister. and when he gets in trouble he says he doesn't care. i am ready to strangle him." Oh, I think I can relate!!!

Hah!

I think I'm gonna have to go with Ucc's suggestion, sort of. Granted, I had to look up "High Quark" in wiki, but it was the definition of top quark that got me: "The top quark interacts primarily by the strong interaction but can only decay via the weak force. It almost exclusively decays to a W boson and a bottom quark."

Boson looks too much like bosom to ignore, and by the time I'm in my 80's, well, I have no doubt I'll be reduced to a W Bosom. :) But beyond that, it's not gender specific, so it's even more appropriate.

And yes, I generally do throw these away, but for some reason, this time I thought, "WTF? Why NOT respond?" It's not like any of those yahoos will remember me, anyway.

Really Quick-Like

I just got the questionnaire from my grad school for the Alumni Directory. I need a suggestion for my "prefix" and "suffix". I was thinking, {Lady} MonkeyGurrl, but that kinda reeks of the patriarchal societal crap. Any suggestions? {Lord God King Boofoo}?? And my degree was a Master of Arts. So should I put "M.A." as the suffix? MAMA? Finally, since I hold the esteemed position of Secretary, I was thinking about putting "Slave to the Ever Oppressive White Man" or "Cog in the Machine" - is there something more amusing? I know all y'all are learneded folk, so what would you put?

I Wanna Say "THANKS!"

To Uccellina and Miz K, first of all, for finding those exquisite listings. I owe y'all BIG TIME for helping to KEEP ME FROM MOVING TO THE VALLEY. Next, thank you to all the WeHo SnB'ers that were there last nite, and supported the WMG. I swear, I did NOT come up with that idea (WMG is quite clever when she wants to be), and you guys made her very happy. She just loves coming to hang out with y'all, but the buying of the chocolates was serious whip cream for her.

Y'all are the best. And even 'tho the Westwood SnB has "comfy chairs", I'll always come back to you!!

Aw, HELL

For all my kvetching about the Crappy Little Apartment, Karma got back to me and informed me I get to move!

So. All my local knittahz, can you he'p a sista out?

Housing Needed - Clean, quiet, low-key, responsible family (1 kid) needs 2+ BR townhouse/house/apt for max of $2000/mo. Must accept our very well-trained, well-behaved (husband works @ home) 10 y/o lab mutt. We would love to stay in the Wilshire Vista/Picfair/Miracle Mile area, but have been priced out of the market, so we will consider any leads. Please call Johnny at 310/739-6366 or email Johnny@MysterieTalent.com.

'Sup, DAWWWWWG!

Jaggers, my 100-lb Lab Mutt, with her fuzzy overlord, Bucket.


One thing that surprised the heck outta me when I moved to LA was to find what a dog-dense town it is. I don’t know why, but I never would have thought LA would be as dog lovin’ as it is. I *love* dogs, and they love me. When I take my beautiful Jaggers for walkies, we are greeted by the neighborhood dogs.

First, there’s the old shepherd from the green back house, ½ block down. Then crazy Maisy, a HUGE pitty that looks JUST like a cow (and I don’t mean this in a mean way!) She is tall, white and has rust-colored spots. :) She charges down the driveway like a bat outta heck. Next door to her is Persia, a beautiful golden ridgeback, who never barks until Jaggers is directly in front of her gate, then stops as soon as we walk past. Sometimes, just for fun, I’ll back up (to set her off) and forward (to make her stop) a few times.

Across the street is Piper, a standard poodle. Despite my inherent fear/loathing of standard poodles, I ADORE Piper. She’s a doll. Then there’s an older dog of indeterminate breed (he’s behind a fence), who goes crazy when we walk by, and his next door neighbor, Jay-Jay, a spunky little (is there any other kind?!) terrier, whom we can’t hear, but we can see him barking like a maniac from inside the picture window.

There’s an Aussie sheepdog across the street from Crappy Little Apartment Building, who twirls like a dervish when barking at us, then old collie mutt whom I just love. There are two dogs of varying degrees of lab that live next door to the CLABuilding. They are crazy and love having each other for company. Their family is textbook – white, middle class, husband, wife, grandmother and grandson (about middle-school aged). And within the CLA Building, there are three (one brand new) Yorkshire terriers, a mini-chow type, two Chihuahuas, a gorgeous Rottie named Tina, and of course, my Jaggers. They are all happy, healthy, friendly dogs.

Like babies, to me, all dogs are beautiful. But there is one dog of which I am constantly aware. She* is a beautiful blond lab. She looks purebred by her color, shape and bearing. She is a GORGEOUS dog. The backyard of her family’s house butts up to our next door neighbors’, so I have a perfect view from my nosey-neighbor-next-door bathroom window into her yard. I don’t know when I first became aware of her, but she’s certainly been their the whole time we’ve lived here (almost two years). I think I really took notice of her because she is such a GOOD dog. She has a thick, gorgeous coat, excellent structure and a beautifully round head. She seldom barks. Only when the neighbors’ dogs come out and run to the wall to say “HI! HOW YA DOIN’?! WANNA COME OVER AN’ PLAY?!”, she’ll respond. But neighbor doesn’t let his dogs stay out too long; I don’t think he likes the noise.

The other day, a squirrel stole an orange from the neighbors’ back yard. He sat on the crossbar of a telephone pole, nibbling at the orange, directly over the Blond Lab, teasing the heck out of her. She barked that day. On Saturdays, when the kids from the apartments directly behind us are yelling and squealing ALL DAY LONG, she’ll bark once or twice to say “HI! HOW’YA DOIN’?!”

Some mornings, when I’m getting ready, I can hear a difference in the morning sounds – more than the usual sing-song of the hydraulic brakes from the bus stopping on Fairfax, the ravens being chased by the little brown birds protecting their nests, the cars honking to pick up their rideshares. If I look out my window, I can see my Blond Lab standing up, wagging her luscious tail, as if to say, “HI. ARE YA COMING OUT TO SEE ME?! HOW ARE YOU?? I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU IN *SOOOOOO* LONG!!!” But she doesn’t bark. She is such a good girl.

She is cooped up in the corner. Her cage is made of chicken wire and spare 2x4s. There’s a makeshift “house”, just a roof, really, made of more 2x4s and some spare roofing material. She guards a yard overrun with rotting, rusting, festering junk. Stuff made of Grand Ideas and Good Intentions. Her nearest company is an old Pontiac on cinderblocks, covered by a worn blue tarp. That tarp has not come off the car in the two years we’ve lived here. She could knock over her coop with just one jump; one accidental sitting on a 2x4. But she doesn’t, because she is a good girl.

She was probably originally gotten for a child who has long since forgotten about her, and someone else remembers to feed and water her daily. She certainly isn’t malnourished. Or she was intended to “protect” the yard, but she doesn’t have a vicious bone in her body, so she was relegated to the furthermost corner. But the coop was made for a much smaller dog, maybe constructed when she was but a pup. She barely has enough room to turn around without knocking the fence. When she settles under the “house”, the whole structure shakes, as if it’s being held up by a few stray pieces of bubblegum and duct tape. But she is careful not to knock the structure too much, to not disturb the delicate balance of the southwest corner of the junk-strewn yard. Because she is such a good girl.

I fantasize that one day, I’m going to go over and meet her. I’m gonna pet her and play with her and give her the love and attention she deserves. But I know I won’t, because I’m just like her - each cooped in our too-small cage, pretending to be such a good girl.

I NEED HELP, Part Deux

Now that I have a sizable stash, there is nothing I want to knit. :( Nothing for WMG, because she is on my sh*tlist for her behavior (and if I'm not lovin' the recipient, I'm not lovin' the knit). No babies are due. I just finished charity work and a BOATLOAD of knucks (although I am considering making another pair for Sandy, to replace the ones stolen by the Egg Donor). Toys aren't thrilling me. I need something portable and mindless and quick.

Any suggestions?

Oh, and just because he's yummy and he brightens up my day:

Playing Ketchup

I am too verbose. Which is why I never maintained friendships as a child when my family moved from place to place - I would start to write a letter and end up detailing every miniscule thought and circumstance, and by the time I got to the 4th page of the handwritten single-spaced missive, I just said, "F*ck it", and went on.

In both high school and college papers, I was reprimanded for going OVER the page limit. By the time I got to grad school, I learned to curb my yammering (somewhat).

One reason I don't post as often as I'd like to is because I start describing things and feel I should tell the entire backstory and get so bogged down with the minutae I begin to wonder who in the HECK would want to read all this crap?! and give up and go home. I know. Already I've lost you.

So I'm trying a new tact: Listing.

1. The Egg and Sperm Donors - after thinking I was granted a reprieve, they showed up on Sunday at our CLA, *just* after I dropped Unca Douggles and the Wee Monkey Gurl off at the theater. They would rather miss seeing their granddaughter than have to endure 5 minutes with the Unca. Whatever.

2. Their Progeny - since I thought I was going to see the Brothers and my one In-Law, I finished a pair of knucks for Sandy (Kev's wife). They ended up quite nicely, out of Twizé Twing, to which I added a beaded skull-n-cross bones (chart courtesy of Severina, which is possibly the best S&C chart EVER. Simple, but effective.
WMG wanted them (natch), but they were too big.

L'egg donor (who is very disenchanted with her only daughter-in-law - god only knows why) decided they were too good for Sandy, but perfect for her. Seriously. She absconded with them. She who usually sniffs at my "little knitting", grabbed them like they were the golden fleece and would not let go. The thought of her wearing a skull design was amusing enough to let her have them.

Plus, she scares me and I was afraid she'd physically injure me if I tried to get them back. (She's little, but she fights dirty!)

3. My Girl Boss had a birthday. She's the one that saw the knucks I knit for my use in the office in Regia Bamboo (they look like a party on my hands), and said, "Oh, gosh, those are really great. Really, Really great. Those sure are great." Also, she's the One Person in the office that is cold as often as I am. She wears a lot of brown, so I knit her knucks in Debbie Bliss baby cash in a rich, dark chocolate color.



I have no patience for patterned embroidery, so I did some "free form" stuff (doesn't that make me sound crafty?!)




I was kinda going for a cherry blossom thang.





5. It was also my niece's birthday. Guess what? She got knucks. She loves dogs. I thought I had a pic, but maybe not. They are in LB Microspun in a beautiful royal blue, with "DAWG LUVR" on the fingers, and little puppy buttons on the hand part. Of course, she loved them. :)

6. I've been feeling charitable. So I knit up some headbands for an
Irish dance troup. They were a fun diversion. Very easy and fast, so it make me feel like I accomplished something.


7. On Sunday I met some friends from out of town for brunch. The food and atmosphere were both fabulous. Michael Tyson came in midway and sat at a table directly to my right. I didn't believe it was him until he turned to the right and I saw the ink on his face. He is a LOT better looking in real life; or at least, a lot less scary. Afterward, we all wanted to walk the Kinney and Venice Boardwalk. I think *EVERY* Southern Californian needs to hit The Boardwalk at least every year or to so as to remind themself why people living everywhere else in the world think of us the way they do.

8. Although I managed to avoid it for most of the week, I made it to the end of the sale at A Mano. Even at 75% off, I managed to spend a few bucks. But stash enhancement is life, no? It was Jman's first time witnessing yarn procurement. I think he was overwhelmed. But I gotta new toy, and Shannita was nice enough to explain to him why I was so excited. Since I have no current projects (and they only had them in size 0US and 1US, I'm playing with them now. :)

Hmmm. Looks like this listing stuff doesn't abbreviate me much, huh?!

Sometimes Life Is Scary

Sometimes we do things that frighten the beejeezus out of us. For me, it's not something like skydiving or riding a motorcycle in a miniskirt or hanging out with the hookahz in D.C. (not hooking, just hanging out...)

Everything I've ever done, I've done well. When I give answers I'm generally right. That's not bragging - the trick to all that is I *don't* do what I don't do well. Skiing (water and snow), ice-skating, dance? I kicked arse from the get-go. Tennis, golf, bowling? I think I've done each (maybe) twice. In my life. Basically, anything you can do as a solitary endeavor, I rock; things you have to do in a group (or that generally involve someone other than me) frighten me.

I can take any general info standardized test and score in the 90th percentile (or higher), but I can't speak in front of an audience to save my life. As a matter of fact, I almost didn't pass the comps in grad school because of this inability.

A few people have recently confessed their nervousness at attending their first Stitch-n-Bitch (or facsimile thereof) meeting. Y'all aint got nuthing on me. I knew Purl and Miss K virtually, but I still (get this) had to take 2 antihistimines, a cocktail (gin, of course), and a VALIUM to calm down enough to walk up the stairs at the Farmers' Market. Seriously.

Most people think I am one of the bravest people they know. If only they knew the truth. I'm brave when it comes to things that scare normal people. I'm a little chickensh*t when it comes to normal stuff.

Like. . . Asking for favors. I was brought up poor and proud. In my mind, needing help is a sign of weakness. EVEN IF I KNOW THIS IS NOT TRUE objectively, subjectively my insides curdle at the thought. Included in this are things normal people have no problem with - like asking for a reference letter from a teacher or a boss, or advice from a friend who's career is relevant (like, talking about a MEDICAL ISSUE with my BEST FRIEND who is a DOCTOR, or asking my boss, who is a LAWYER for LEGAL ADVICE). Or, asking a complete stranger for a charitable donation.

Every year, Wee Monkey Gurrl's school holds a high-brow "Silent Auction" to raise funds to pay for the auxiliary services the school offers. Now, this is in addition to the "annual donation" (about $350), and the catalog sales and the candy bar sales (in this day and age?! Where are the healthy-eating police when you need them?!) and the t-shirt sales, etc., etc. FOR A PUBLIC SCHOOL. I think this is a great school (when they're not constantly hitting me up for my non-existant dollars), so when an opportunity recently arose, I took advantage of it... FOLKS, I ASKED FOR A DONATION.

And you know what? The earth didn't stop turning. I wasn't immediately struck by lightening, and the Four Horsemen didn't come.

Ah'z so proud of me.

And by the way, he said "yes." So, y'all, seriously, if you're in the WeHo area and want to hit a gallery, or if you're in the market for Fine Art, go to the Glass Garage Gallery. Because it was my first time and he was ever so gentle with me.

Wow.

Some nice Italian dude decided to give me a million bucks. SCORE! (but don't tell anyone!!!)

Date: Mon, 12 Mar 2007 6:11:04 -0500
From: Fondazion Di Vittorio
To:
CC:
Subject: DONATION GRANT

Fondazion Di Vittorio, ITALY
http://www.fondazionedivittorio.it

Concern.

The Foundazion di Vittorio, would like to notify you that you have been chosen by the board of trustees as one of the final recipients of a cash Grant/Donation for your own personal, educational, and business development. The FDV, established 1977by the Multi-Million groups and now supported by the Economic Community for West African States (ECOWAS), United Nations Organization (UNO) and the European Union (EU) was conceived with the objective of human growth, educational,
and community development.To celebrate the 28th anniversary program, The Vittorio Foundation in conjunction with the Economic Community for West African States (ECOWAS), United Nations Organization (UNO) and the European Union (EU) is giving out a yearly donation of US$1,000,000.00. each to 100 lucky recipients.

These specific Donations/Grants will be awarded to 100 lucky international recipients worldwide; in different categories for their personal business development and enhancement of their educational plans.

You were selected among the lucky recipients to receive the award sum of US$1,000,000.00. as charity donations/aid from the Vittorio Foundation, ECOWAS, EU and the UNO in accordance with the enabling act of Parliament.(Note that all beneficiaries email addresses were selected randomly from over 100,000 internet websites or a shop's cash invoice around your area in which you might have purchased something from).

You are required to contact the Executive Secretary below, for qualification documentation and processing of your claims.

After contacting our office, you will be given your donation pin number, which you will use in collecting the funds. Please endeavor to quote your Qualification numbers (N-222-6747, E-900-56) in all discussions.

Executive Secretary: Gianlucci Carlo.
Email: gianlucci_carlo@yahoo.it

You are by all means hereby advised to keep this whole information confidential until you have been able to collect your donation, as there have been many cases of double and unqualified claim, due to beneficiaries informing third parties about his/her donation. [What, you mean, like me posting the info on my BLOG?!?!]

On behalf of the Board kindly, accept our warmest congratulations.
Regards.
Mr. Malcom Sparo.

Way to Go

WeHo

Also, I find this amusing: A trainer at the San Diego zoo got the end of his index finger bit off by a chimp he was training. "Another chimp in the cage rescued the severed tip when another trainer gave the signal for the chimps to retrieve items that didn't belong." "Zoo officials theorized that Ikela, the 15-year-old chimp who did the nipping, might not have been feeling well. Ikela is pregnant and could have been annoyed or tired by extra monitoring due to her pregnancy." Boy, I can relate!

Black Thursday

A very special friend of mine has taken off for parts unknown. Well, not entirely unknown, just . . . a certain part of the world that is in hideous turmoil. Where going to a cafe (or school or a funeral) can get you blown up. It's not a surprise that this friend is on his way there, but it still feels like I've gotten socked in the stomach. By scut farkus. And I didn't even get to throw a snowball first.

And it doesn't help to know that people die every day in auto incidents and gang crossfire and freak accidents, and that by being in the position my friend is in, he's probably taking more care walking down the street than I do when I play on the freeway.

To make matters worse, my Boyfriend's daughter is seriously ill. UPDATE: She's doing much better, and there are reports she was being treated for blood poisoning contracted by stepping on a rusty nail. OWWWIE, but not life-threatening. Thank the gods!

Is it too early to crawl back into bed?

The Joy of Being Unencumbered

When One is unencumbered by the constraints of motherhood for 24 hours. Oh, the trouble One can get into!!!!

First, because One doesn’t need to go home and make sure One’s WMG has completed her homework and eaten her veggies and taken a bath, One must spend an additional 2 hours (additional to the customary 2 hours) at Tarjayz, because they have some new bras that looked like they MIGHT fit so One HAD TO try them on. . . but they didn’t. Sigh. So, at closing time, One gives up and goes home.

One’s dog, who didn’t take the trip to SD, is very excited when One comes home - “OhMyGawd. I TOTALLY thought you had abandoned me!!! Do you have a biscuit? El Cat has been chasing me around every. Oh Mama, I LOVE you! Do you have a biscuit? I’m so glad you’re back!! What’s that Smell? Do you have a biscuit? I’d very much like a biscuit!” So One takes her dog for a little walkie-walk, singing silly sings (out loud) to her and admiring all the houses One would LOVE to live in, rather than her Crappy Little Apartment.

Upon returning, singing “Jagger, waggers, waggily tail. . .” One nearly RUNS INTO A DOZEN UNIFORMED POLICE OFFICERS, who are attempting a covert approach on the Yellow House Across The Street. Except that One’s dog is causing the dog next door to the Yellow House Across The Street to bark. Stunned out of her reverie by the youth, vigor and BODY ARMOR of La Policia, One quickly crosses the street to the CLA building, taking refuge in her CLA, and surreptitiously spying on the goings-on from her bathroom window.

After 15 minutes of flashlights going off and on, a bit of a skerfuffle and the carting away of one person in a white t-shirt, One gets bored and goes to have cereal for dinner. Since One is tired and there’s nothing exciting on Late Nite TV, One goes to bed.

And wakes up . . . AT THE CRACK OF DAWN.

Seriously. Without One’s Wee MonkeyGurrl to wake her up at 6am, 6:23, 6:47, and so on until WMG either gets beaten or is otherwise occupied, One will sleep until 8am and then wake up FRESH AS A FRIGGIN DAISY. Amazing. So One will decide to do some things One wanted to do. BUT FIRST, One must obsess over how One will get Uncle Douggles and WMG to the Pantages the next day, given that the LA Marathon goes right down Hollywood to Vine. One must waste HOURS mapping out the route and the street closing times and the intersection reopening times (one mile every thirteen minutes. . .), until One realizes - ONE IS WASTING PRECIOUS DAYLIGHT on something that can be done at a later time. So One goes to take a shower, but starts obsessing on One’s grey hair - not the fact that One has grey hair (which One has in copius amounts), but that some hairs will have grey tips (2 -3 inches), and then switch BACK TO BLACK (or brown or whatever) all the way up to the root. One wastes more hours tracking said grey tips to the roots (pluck if they’re skunk hairs, leave if they’re not), and then decides to CHOP OFF (roughly) 4” of hair. “That’ll take care of those grey tips!” One thinks. OCD much, any ONE?

Finally (somewhat) decent for travel OUT OF DOORS ON A SATURDAY, one goes to a yard sale TWENTY MILES AWAY. Because all the local ones are crap, you know? Naw, One goes there solely to mock to the Yard Salers because One knows yard sales are NO FUN, and promptly upon arrival announces “I’m not going to take Any Thing because I already have too much crap at home.”

Of course, One manages to walk away with SEVEN Things. One is glad One didn’t see the Sylvester ashtray or the CD holder made to look like a t.v., b/c then One would have taken more Things that One doesn’t need or have room for.

When One is hanging out with the Yard Salers, One invites herself into the house under the guise of wanting to meet Yard Saler #1’s furry creatures. The group gets to chatting in The Cat Room, and Yard Saler #2 starts to turn a deeper shade of purple (given her allergic disposition toward felines). Before the group has the sense to leave the Cat Room, One and Yard Saler #1 were talking about age, and One mentions how she is far older than YS1, which YS1 doesn’t believe (bless her heart!)

“Why,” says YS1, “How old ARE you?”
“How old are YOU?!” One retorts.
“I’m 34 - but I’ll be 35 in (some spring/summer month that One has already forgotten, no doubt due to her advanced age.)”
“I’m 43.”
“Wow,” disbelief registering on her face. “You must moisturize.”
One finds that infinitely amusing.

One Journeys On.
One goes to a sale at a local yarn store. But first, One gets stuck in traffic on the legendary freeway (101, of course!). One gets confused as to which way One is going (b/c One seldom goes to The Valley), and so what should have taken 20 minutes ends up taking nearly an hour and a half. That Fresca One enjoyed at YS1’s house is starting to force it’s way out!!

So get this (and tell me if maybe it’s just me that’s crazy), One walks into the TINY boutique store where there are “designer” clothes on one wall, and cubicles filled with yarn on the other. One only knows about the sale through the LA SnB list and there are no signs anywhere, so One asks the proprietress, “So, what is the sale?”

“It’s on yarn.”
“Yes, I understand that, but what is 'ON SALE'.”
“Some are 30, some are 50 and some are 75 percent off.”
“Well, how can I tell which is which, unless I’m supposed to bring each skein up and ask you?”
“OH. Well, the yarns with the green dot above the cubbies are 20% off. . . .blah, blah, blah.”

Now, perhaps it’s just me, couldn’t that have been answered two questions ago?

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT...

One walked out of there with a bagful of yarn for under $60.
Here it is all loosey-goosey

(One got soy and bamboo and "Wick", OH MY!)

And here it is, ready to go into The Stash

Monkey says: YUMMMMMMMMY!!!!!

One is exhausted. One wants to go home. One drives down the street and sees Pinkberry and considers stopping, but it’s crowded and on the east side of the street. One drives through Koreatown and sees a store front with the name “Seoul Dogg”. One hopes it’s not their specialty.

One heads home where One must take out the trash, change the linens for the visiting Uncle, and generally tidy up the CLA. One again has cereal for dinner. One thinks about YS1’s cute little house and how jealous One is that YS1 is unencumbered, and thinks, the grass is always greener...

Then One gets ready for Sunday, because that’s going to be an even BIGGER adventure!

The Condemned Woman Has Been Granted A Reprieve

Or, "How to fix it so you don't have to go to dinner with your family". (Hey, not everybody can have a family love fest like CAP!)

Thanks, everybody, for your suggestions. The Newsroom sounds like something I would like to do WITHOUT the crazy Donors, so I could enjoy myself! Some other places I was considering were ammo cafe, citizen smith, hollywoodandvine, eat on Sunset, and social hollywood (based on the Strip atmosphere and $$$ ratings), as well as La Boheme, The Terrace (at Sunset Tower), Republic LA and Asia de Cuba (for just the $$$ factor).

HOWEVER, The Donors could not cope when I told them the Unca would be joining us, and used some flimsy excuses (oh, WMG's got too much going on, there's the Marathon going on, Kev says there's no where we could get reserves for Saturday... Blah, blah, blah) to beg off until they come through again in May. Sperm Donor said, "I'm sure the boys can be a little flexible", to which I replied, "Well, they've waited YEARS, they can wait a few more months." HAH. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

So we're probably still going out to dinner on Saturday, just us and Unca Douggles, and probably to one of the Culver City haunts I've been wanting to check out (Ford's Filling Station, maybe?)

But there's one thing that strikes a chord of fear in my heart for tomorrow: "Sale at The Little Knittery - This SATURDAY ONLY I will be putting every ball of yarn in here on sale. 20 to 75% off all yarns!" I've never been to the Little Knittery, and I think I may be up at the crack of dawn (or at least by noon) to go tomorrow!!!

I NEEED Help!!!!!

(NOT) short story - the crazy sperm and egg donors are coming to town this weekend. The reason? One of my older brothers, Kev (whom no one has heard from in FIVE AND A HALF YEARS), decided he wanted us to all be a family again. The younger brother, Fireboy, the same one who lived with Jman, WMG and I for over 3 years and had a falling out with The Donors (but we still supported him in all he was doing), then suddenly DISAPPEARED FROM THE FACE OF THE EARTH about 2.5 years ago, also wants to meet up.

Firstly, I tried for years to get in touch with the brothers, especially when WMG was small. Kev and his wife avoided contact with me for no reason ever enumerated. It was important to me to have WMG know her family when she was young (especially after Jman's mom died), but they avoided us like the plague. Now, WMG says she doesn't even remember EVER MEETING Kev or his wifey (she was 2 when they last met), and she's pissed at the Fireboy because he never once called, sent a card, emailed, NOTHING for the last 2.5 years. I'm not bitter, but I really just don't care to see them and I hate making a special effort to work it out.

Nextly, they want to meet up at our Crappy Little Apartment. Not only is there not enough room for my family, in addition to the Donors and three LARGE sized, full-grown adult males, but I also don't feel like cleaning up the place for their visit, and the Jman's not going to be around to do it.

To make things even more interesting, WMG and the Jman are going down to San Diego Friday afternoon. One of the nieces (who is on a softball scholarship in Tenn) is playing in a tourney at USD. Jman's other brother (who we see at least 2x a year) is coming out from AZ. And Jman's father (who we see a few times a year) has been recently diagnosed with cancer, so the Jman would really like to spend time with his family. I totally would too, but I hate going to SD for just one day. It just wipes me out.

Finally, Uncle Douggles (my best friend) is taking WMG to see Wicked on Sunday (an ex-mas gift to her), so he's coming up from SD on Saturday to spend the nite at CLA.

Oh, and don't forget - the donors don't like Uncle Douggles b/c he's my ex-boyfriend and ex's shouldn't be friends (they didn't like him when we were together b/c he is Jewish. It pisses The Egg Donor off to no end to know that he and I and our respective families are still friends, particularly after I got married 9 years ago, and EGGSPECIALLY after he got married (last summer).

Anyway, I've been a nearly-veg for most of my life. I have no philosophical objections to eating meat, I just generally don't like it. Since the Egg Donor was recently warned about adult diabetes, she's gone on a major health kick - basically eating all the stuff that I've been eating for YEARS and then LECTURING ME about it. AURGH.

So, in honor of this auspicious fiasco - er, get together, I *get* to pick the restaurant. But I MUST be sure they serve VEGETARIAN foodstuffs. I told her I know about a few great vegan places, but most of them are on the eastside.

She doesn't know what "vegan" is.

So, long story even longer, can anyone recommend a restaurant on the westside that has a considerable vegetarian/vegan menu, but still serves meat, in case The Brothers have a need for dead animal flesh? I'd prefer something outrageous (like a gay fetish bar in WeHo) and expensive (but not too, since I don't want to get dressed up), since I want to make this as annoying the Donors and their progeny as it is for me.

Oh, and I've invited Uncle Douggles to come with us. :) I'm not bitter, I'm just a trouble-stirrer.

PS - I've made a major life change. I don't know if I'll be posting it b/c of its nature, but I'm hoping it "sticks". So send me the Positive Thought Vibes, if you get a chance. THANKS!!