Sunday, April 30, 2006

second pair


second pair
Originally uploaded by queenmaxine.
Oh, she needs a mate... I just finished the first sock of the second pair.

Gawjuss!

Cherry Tree Hill sock yarn in "Earth" on US2.

Size 2 needles are really small. They might as well be toothpicks. Really. I am concerned that when I attempt size 1 or even 0, that I might snap them while knitting.

I am *that* strong.

first pair


first pair
Originally uploaded by queenmaxine.
I am finally getting around to posting the first pair of socks I did for Dear Sweet Elizabeth. She has yet to wear them, it *is* a little hot in Houston for wool at the moment, but they were finished more than a month ago.

Not too shabby. Online sock yarn on a US3 needle.

cute grrl purse


cgp close-up
Originally uploaded by queenmaxine.
The latest in cute grrl fashion. just big enough for a small wallet and a cell phone.

Woo!

Sunday, April 23, 2006

samf

My wasband is such a sorry ass mother fucker. For the past month or so, every day, I have been trying to call him to ask him about our son. Does he ever pick up? does he ever call back? Fuck, no.

So I am talking to my dear youngest and he is chatting away like normal...then it comes. I hear his dad in the background saying you need to tell your mother. Apparently he got in trouble yesterday. Big trouble. His father had to pick him up from being detained by the police. He had seeds in his pocket...those kind of seeds...so cut the dancing around it conversation we had short and then dad gets on the phone.

I hate him. I really have a hard time saying I hate this man who I was at one time happily married to, but having an affair changed him and I fucking hate the man he has become since. Can he call me back ever? No. Not until our son is in trouble and he will need help paying for a lawyer. I think I set the record for hang ups today as I hung up on him 13 times. Each time hating him more. I know I could have not answered my phone, but then I would have to listen to his voice on my voice mail and that always makes me hate him more than trying to finish the conversation in the first place.

Each time he would raise his voice or cuss or start telling me what I had to do, click. Then he told me if I hung up again, he would end up having to sue me for help paying the lawyer and for child support too. Click. He really infuriates me. Naturally, I got in the part about how he is not supervising our son enough, and reminded him he never paid child support when connor was living here, and how he demanded his son live with him and I graciously allowed it.

Did I mention that I fucking hate him?

After about the 12th hang up, I told him before hanging up on him that I wasn't in a position to handle the stress he was causing, and that would he please calm the fuck down and call me back when he was behaving more rationally and when he could speak to his son's mother with the courtesy and respect that she deserves. Click.

You know that the phone rang again right away. And I answered. I fucking hate him. And I really hate that he made me cry today and that means in some way he won some small victory. But then I got him. He was babbling on and on about how it isn't his problem that I don't have any savings( which I do) or that there isn't any money because we have been remodeling...he was reaching psycho mode in his rant, the clue being that he was mis-stating the facts I had recited to him, jumbling them all up sort of, and some of them were outright lies if not subtle fabrications. I hate him, afterall, so I was somewhere beyond giving a shit.

I asked him if he would take a breath. While he did that, I told him he missed the comment I made about the cost of my medication. Then I said the stress was bad for my disease. He asked for clarification but was pretty instantly deflated. And I was able to stop short of reminding himhow the soft sounds of my phone voice make his dick hard.

I still fucking hate him. but at least he will be calm when he calls me back after consulting with a lawyer.

Friday, April 21, 2006

The first time I kissed you I lost my legs...

That title is my new favorite inspired and profound lyric of the moment. Just so you know.

Another favorite, I just heard on the way home and I almost text messaged it to my wasband...If I ever sit to write the story I'll say something nice about you when you're dead...one more beer at the continental club and I just might have done it.

It is always interesting to go to the continental club. On Friday nights they have a house band of sorts, Molly and the Ringwalds, an 80s cover band. If you haven't guessed, it is a bit of an older crowd. mostly 30 and 40 somethings. always good for a few beers. I actually knew every song they played tonight. the interest comes in when one of the songs they play take sme to a persp, place, or time I haven't thought about in a long while. Tonight there were two episodes.

They played I want you to want me and i was thinking of my crappy first apartment in Norfolk and this neighbor I had there named Kurt. He was a geeky white boy with a bit of the brother vibe going on, but he really had a thing for Cheap Trick. I haven't thought about him since I moved from that apartment and that was in 1988.

Then they played Crazy Train and i though about my first real boyfriend, Michael. We were an item from about summer 1980 t0 82 I guess, though Michael was from Montreal so it was more a summer thing. I always remember him fondly and he is one of the people from my past I wish I was still friendly with.

Anyway, she who is dear *and* sweet has as of now been gone too long. Three nights apart is the general rule and while I wish her to have a good time with Aunt Pat, she better not be getting kicked out of any pubs without me.

Tomorrow night I am going on the tattoo parlor prowl. I heard we have a new chick in town at one of the studios and it might just be time.

Sunday, April 16, 2006

and her jaw became unhinged

When will my coworkers learn that if they ask me something they are going to get an answer whether it is what they want to hear or not?

On Friday, one of them asked me, "Well what are you gals doing for easter?"

I thought about just saying nothing. Or answering that we were doing nothing. My response was actually pretty gentle, for me, but there is every possibility that she will not be enjoying her easter ham because her jaw is still hanging unhingerd.

I told her "Well, since you asked, we aren't christian, so we wont be doing anything 'for easter', but on Sunday, we are taking a ride up to Chappell Hill to see the wild flowers and have a picnic somewhere along the way."

After she realized her jaw was unhinged and walked away, another coworker asked, "Doesn't she get it? Rothman? Jewish name?"

I really have some dim bulbs iin the box.

So we went to Eatzi's last nightand got some things for our picnic today. There is curry chicken pasta salas, sesame chicken tenders, pesto parmesan couscous, cilantro shrimp pasta salad, hummus, sundried tomato bread with cheese, and a couple of cookies for dessert, chocolate chip with pecan (not as good as mine) for me, and peanut butter for e.

I left my meditation cushion at the retreat center last weekend, so we are going out that way to pick it up, The wildflowers are in bloom, so that will be a pleasant diversion. Almost as pleasant as the company.

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

the weekend

The retreat I attended was interesting. An odd amalgam of yoga and writing. With Charles, yoga is never just yoga. I have had a trying disease flair since the beginning of March or maybe even the end of February, so I participated in some of the yoga, but not all, half being a conservative estimate. Charles practices a gentle enough style of yoga to suit me well, but the bending and stretching is not conducive to an intestinal disorder.

The writing was by AWA process and guidelines which were not completely spelled out for those of us unfamiliar with that. The short list includes giving a prompt, writing for a set length of time, usually 10-30 minutes, reading to the group, and then receiving positive feedback. "What worked for you in this piece? What stays with you?"

On Friday morning we did the 1,2 numbering off to separate into groups for the reading and feedback. I saw it happening as we went around the table. 15 of us, 10 women and 5 men, and I was to be in a group that included all 5 men. I was comfortable enough with the group to let it play out, but I really should have spoken up and asked to be in the other group. The all women group.

We did our timed writing and the groups met. Me, two other women, and the men. Have I mentioned there were 5 of them??? They were not crazy macho, thank the little baby jesus (trademark DSE)but 5 men. It was to be my challenge. The Universe was challenging me. There was a reason and I just need be patient enough to let it unfold before me.

I hated it.

The writing I did was good. The feedback I received was both encouraging and helpful. The men were interesting and well written.

I still hated it. Being in a room with 5 men and being forced to pay attention and respond was so far beyond my daily (or weekly, monthly or yearly) experience. I had no frame of reference. The last time this was in play it was because I was dating them. (not these 5 mind you) and I commanded their attention in a much different fashion. It was terrible and I had to pay attention. I had to interact with them. And there was another group across the way that was only women and I was missing something!

This really set the tone for the entire weekend for me. After dinner on Friday I opted out of the yoga/writing session and went to bed early. "Aren't you afraid you might miss something?" One of the women really wanted a serious answer. I told her that I already had missed it that morning by not being in the group of women, so there was nothing really left to miss.

Our groups changed with each exercise so I wasn't stuck with the men in the same configuration all weekend, but after Friday morning, each exercise was a decision to stay or go home. I missed Elizabeth. I missed the yappy ones. I just wanted to go home.

Regardless of all that homesick BS, I still had a good time and managed some interesting writing. One piece in particular I am going to clean up a little and post soon. I was cracking myself up. I am intrigued by Merrill, the main character. She might be going somewhere further. She might become part of Alex. Who knows.

I am certainly glad to be home.I left the retreat before lunch on Sunday missing the last exercise and closing circle. I guess it was around 12 rather than 3 or 4. I got an email from one of the other Houston women that I had left my cushion and yoga mat and she had them. We are going to meet for lunch at Eatzi.s on Monday. There will be a CD of pics available soon from one woman who was camera happy all weekend. Yi. pee.

Thursday, April 06, 2006

Less than eight hours to go

I will soon be on retreat. Does retreat begin and end when on the premises or do we include travel time? I am going to include travel time as part of the retreat for now, and if I am suffering through hellacious traffic, I might ammend this decision later. Afterall, it makes such an impact on the rest of my life. Not.

Chef Michel will be in attendance preparing vegetarian meals for the entire weekend. He really is good, and his meals will be a treat. I did a retreat at this place a few years ago with my friend Hitaji and Michel was wonderful. I could sit and listen to his stories of Picasso and France for the entire weekend. E's experience with him chefing was not as great, but I think the retreat host's budget might have affected that.

The yoga part of the retreat is under the guidance of Charles MacInerney. I have had one prior workshop with him and really enjoyed him and is teaching style. The writing portion of the retreat is with Patricia someone and I am too lazy to go look up her name. She and Charles have been working together for 8 or more years so I think it will be good.

No internet. Back after Sunday.

It's all good.

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

You can still call me Grace

As I exited Starbucks this morning, ventieightpumphalfsoyhalfwholechaitealette in hand, I stepped on a table leveling screw that was on the sidewalk in my path. Of course I didn't see it until I was sprawled out having spilled my drink. I went inside for a drink replacement and saw my scrapes, no open bleeding or torn clothing. I am going to email them tonight requesting a gift card as compensation because the staff did not offer to do an incident report or even ask if I was ok. A small gc is adequate. I am not sure what is appropriate, but there should have been some show of concern as I go there nearly daily. Grace. Less.

Monday, April 03, 2006

bowls...

I measured my bowls before they went into the washer and then a swishing they went. Two trips through the washing machine later, they are shaped and drying on the counter.

I had E help me wind up the Cherry Tree Hill supersock yarn. I bought a skein of it after the dentist a few weeks back. I bought the "Earth" colorway which is browns and reds and oranges. I also got a set of size 2 DPNs and I am currently swatching it to get gauge for my second pair of socks for she who is dear *and* sweet.

The first pair of socks is made from Online sock yarn in blues with some olive and cream and black. It was self patterning and I will photograph them as soon as I wash them, which might be tonight. The first one I did is slightly larger than the second, but that might just be because it was tried on. Washing should bring it back and I will sw if they are closer after that.

Ramble. And ramble some more.

I am going to Margaret Austin Center on Thursday for a yoga and writing retreat with Charles MacInerney. I will be there through Sunday at 3 and I am going directly from work on Thursday at 4. Ideally, it will kick start renewed activity on both fronts.