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You say you want a revolution well, you know... ...we all want to change the world |
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Sponsor my private revolution:
What am I selling on Ebay today? Let the Revolution begin... *You can be any age to join the knitting revolution. It's not just grannies any more. *To join, just grab the nearest pointy things, and tie them to the nearest string-like substance. Wave them enthusiastically in the air, yelling passionate cries such as "och aye the noo!" *The revolution requires that you supply your own weapons. Er, needles. *Knitting can be sexy. Sure, it can. Go to knitty and be inspired! *Knit in public, and if anyone looks at you funny, you've always got a sharp metal thing handy with which to poke their soft bits. *Get all knitting-zen on people. Then when you really let your hair down, you can get away with it, because you're "that nice person, who knits". *insert evil laugh here* *Oh, yeah, almost forgot. The revolution will not be televised. Or... something like that. I moved to Canberra last November, and am now involved in the best Canberra knitting group! ... so any locals or visitors interested, go on over to Canberra Stich N Bitch yahoo group and join us in our dark endeavours! I mean, creative meeting of minds... er, yeah. Something like that. We meet at Starbucks in Civic on the first Thursday evening of every month, and the third Sunday of the month at 2pm. Come along! If you feel shy, feel free to post online first, or email someone to ask a few questions. :):):) If you want, use the contact button and I'll give you my details so we can get in touch. Always happy to get the interesting people of Canberra out of the woodwork... I know you're there, ya just hard to find sometimes *chuckle* Sydney Knitting Adventures continue at "my" previous knitting group in Newtown: Meet up for coffee, cake, and knitting adventures galore at Barmuda Cafe, Australia Street Newtown. It's opposite the police station, and across the intersection from Newtown Train Station. See the SSK Website for details :D You, and this many other people with a cramp in their forefinger: Interesting in knitting, and what other knitters are doing? Or are you just bored, or farting off at work while the boss ain't watching? Well then, I have just the thing to keep you busy for hours on end... go exploring the wonderful world of knitting blogs. Can you believe there's so many of us? I have my favourite blog-days, and these are some of them: A hairy tale Horn-y knitter Musical tongs God on the brain Blogging from behind a mask Creativity and productivity I am SUCH a nerd Deliver me from Swedish furniture Feminist backlash Modern beauty is a myth Instant karma’s gonna getcha Go feminism Harris the Well Clad Fish The love is in the food Embarrassment, Humiliation and Joy Booty The birth of a grammar avenger Beetles Traffic Lights, part 1 Spawn of Satan Traffic Lights, part 2 A long time ago, in a knitting bag far, far away... And my other blog, complete with a few little patterns: http://miscsqueak.blogdrive.com  
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A brush with nature in a computer lab I know, I know. No updates. But that's because all I've been doing is running madly about, studying, and rehearsing. Exciting life, not so exciting to blog. And as for blogging boring crap, I'd rather be dead than mediocre, darlings! So I walk into the computer labs this morning, and there's a fat little orange ladybeetle sitting right on the corner of my computer. I thought maybe he was dead, and breathed gently on him, much to his disgust. There was much antennae-wiggling to be had at this, but he didn't start walking anywhere so I figured I'd take him downstairs and outside when I left. He had other ideas, however. I'm mousing away, and I feel this tickling sensation on one of my fingers, and voila ducklings, here's Monsieur Coccinelle toddling along my hand. Soooo cute! Obviously he knew a free ride when he saw one, so, chatting amiably, we walked outside and he zoomed off into the garden. While on the topic of nature and coolness, I'm a year late on this but so is the Daily Telegraph... Waverly Council have decided that people who poison trees to get their ocean view back are seriously fucked up, and are going to fuck them over in return in a very creative way. I'm a bit of a fan of cruel and unusual punishments, and I think this one's a beauty. For every tree that is poisoned, they intend to replace it with two. Bloody brilliant!!! *cheers* Stick that in your view and scrutinize it!
Wha... so cooool!!!
I am, apparently, evil Information obtained by my nifty bravenet tracking thingy: If you put "evil knitting" into google, I'm right there, fourth from the top. Gosh. *bats eyelids innocently*
Colour bragging, and vesty progress Mmm mmm! I am moving out of neutral and back into mad energetic Monica mode, a la running around like a chook with its head chopped off. I loved it when my mum used to say that all the time when I was a kid, until I found out that this actually does happen. (Niiiice.) So, considering I have 1000 things to do, I'm trying to get a little bit of pocketmoney happening again, and have put a couple of bunches of wool back on ebay. This is the Provence colourway, all purpley blues, relisted with a gorgeous new photo... And another bunch of stuff in very cute purples and greens, which I'm seeing a lot of people putting together as a colour combination this winter. Very cool. So, the bragging bit??? My friend Emma bought some of my rather lovely melange of green and blue river colours (Jenny Greenteeth) and made a groovy off-the-shoulder number which she wore to a function which also had in attendance Anton of Anton's groovy fashionable and heinously expensive fashion, darling, who just LUUURVED the colours, and asked to know where she got the wool from. *puffs out tiny chest in happiness* Unfortunately, he didn't immediately phone me to order 3,000 skeins of the stuff, but I have my phone switched on at all times, just in case. *hehe* Finally, the vest! There is progress, but I'm afraid I'll have to put the photo up later, as my ftp thingy has the shits with me and has decided not to work anymore. Was it something I said??? ...no, hang on, we are GO FOR LAUNCH! It's blurry, but here's what it looks like if you've left your glasses off. Nearly done, nearly there, all it needs is a few more rows, a bit of crochet and a couple of buttons. 
Getting back into it all It's been a while since I blogged decently or regularly. Real life, as it is wont to do, has taken precedence over my adoration of a net-linked keyboard, and time, as always, marches on, heedless of human drama. So it's week 11 of semester, and I'm really scrabbling to keep up. Essays, paperwork for the bistro, our concert coming up at the end of May... Speaking of which, here's a little plug for it. The program is: Tchaikovsky, 1812 overture (no cannons, unfortunately, feel free to explode in the audience if you feel the urge) Holst, The Hymn of Jesus (I'll buy a beer for anyone who picks the Freudian reference in the very interesting lyrics of this piece) Rachmaninoff, Vespers (not the lot, just a selected few. We don't have all night, you know. This bit's a cappella, quite awesome) Rimsky-Korsakov, Gloria (ie Slava. This is a weird one. Sounds just like a very old Russian pub song to most of us, quite hideous. Well worth coming to hear it!) So how's that for hardsell? You can get tickets at the door for $35 or $30 (phone 95636103 or 0408241143), but if you get them through myself (email me) or any other SUMSter for that matter, you can get them for $30/$25 as long as you let me know by the Thursday before. It's at the Great Hall at Sydney Uni, and the dates are Sat 28th May at 8pm, and Sun 29th May at 3pm. Come along. Experience amazement, disbelief and spinechilling ecstasy. And after you've done that, come to our concert.
A brief update Serious stuff. I wasn't sure whether to blog this, as I generally keep my personal life out of my blogging, since this is escapism at its best, and people really don't want to hear all my whiney shit. The weird and random happenings in my life that I blog about are far more interesting than the real everyday dramas. However, this one is fairly relevant, and lots of people I know read this blog. I just want to let everyone know that Luke and I have separated, and I moved out last week. I haven't moved far, and won't be disappearing, so anyone who wants to find me can contact me via email or mobile, and as you do I'll give you my new details. This was a hard decision for me to make, and one that I did not take lightly, nor come to suddenly or rashly. I do think it has been the right thing to do. This is all I'd like to say publicly, and if you want to email me, that would be much better than leaving comments, which I may delete.
Tomatoes, the food of... oral sex? In the absence of anything remotely bloggable in my life, I'm just chucking a few little bits and pieces at the computer, and one of them is a nifty little piece of trivia I read in a food magazine. Apparently when the Spanish first saw tomatoes they called them apples of love, and they were thought to be an aphrodisiac, not to mention that they could cause moral degradation. *waggles eyebrows lasciviously* ...home-made bolognese, anyone??? So I thought, hey, I might do a little googley search and confirm this. I typed "spanish tomatoes moral love". Google helpfully asked if I meant "oral love". Oooo-kay. Not quite, but it sounds like fun, anyway. *laugh* Some sites say it was the Italians who called them love apples, and some that it was the French. *shrug* I'm not sure I could be bothered finding out, hey, it's Sunday! And it's a gorgeous day out there! I did find a nifty and informative link about the history of the tomato, as well as a heap of other weird stuff, like the tomato is considered a fruit, but in 1893 the US Supreme Court decided that when they are in America, tomatoes are a vegetable. Great to know that the justice system is put to such good use, hmm?
A couple of nerdy quotes about science and beliefs I've been studying... not very hard, but certainly enough to be getting by. And my little inner nerd got rather excited when I stumbled across these quotes - just thought I'd share, for lack of much else to do tonight. "In many ways, science has merely justified the successive substitutions of modern myths for obsolete ones as the basis for our understanding of the world." (Shermer, 1997:30) And... "A man demonstrates his rationality not by a commitment to fixed ideas, stereotyped procedures, or immutable concepts, but by the manner in which, and the occasions on which, he changes those ideas, procedures and concepts" (Toulmin, 1972:x) Ah. Love it.
Someone said to me the other day... ...that every time I put another lot of wool up on ebay, someone else got to it first. Well, you'll just have to put yourself on my "notify" list, hmm? Go on. Make me feel popular. I only have three, and I have no idea who one of them is. *eep! I'm being stalked by a rabid knitter* So here's the latest bunch. Unfortunately, my camera is being a grumpy bitch, still unhappy at its close encounter with the floor of that evil tram, and so is overexposing everything and it looks a bit pale. So, if you can imagine the colours a bit more intense and deep than they are in the photo, you're all good. I've called this one "Memories of Provence" which is a bit of a wank, really, since when we did go to Provence, it was right after lavender harvest, and all the lavender fields were rows and rows of weird-looking grey plants. But hey! What's Provence famous for? - lavender (the place literally takes you back in time to the smell of your grandma's wardrobe. Without the moth balls, that is. And that weird unwashed hair smell. And the strange cat-pee scent. Okay, maybe it's nothing like your grandma's wardrobe. Umm...) - olives (awesome. Everything has olives painted on it, we went to a restaurant called the Blue Olive, err... l'olive bleu actually, I think, and they sell marinated olives at all the markets and shops. Cool if you like olives. Which I don't, really. Umm...) - cicadas (yay! Now here was a theme I could really get into. My favourite home of childhood, and there were a few, was at Bellbird, before I discovered what an evil place it was from a social perspective and had my idyllic vision shattered. I remember summer nights falling asleep to an almost deafening chorus of cicadas. Gorgeous.) Anyway, this is the wool, or a slightly pale version of it. Click on the pic to go to the ebay page.  Aaargh! My eyes!!! Was just sitting in a Newtown cafe having coffee and toasty stuff and looked up in time to see the most spectacular rear end walking away from me. This woman was African, had tiny blue shorts and high heels on, the tiniest waist combined with an incredibly round, lush backside, and long slim legs that a human barbie doll would be proud of. And honey, she was swinging it. She was hot and she knew it. I stared, and then blinked, gobsmacked. "I think my eyes were just raped", I said dazedly. Ah. The joys of the sidewalk cafe in a beautiful sunny city.
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