tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87131392024-03-14T11:14:05.536-05:00Just A Knit WitJust A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.comBlogger572125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-42089949433768557002009-10-30T20:17:00.003-05:002009-10-30T20:23:14.050-05:00Sewing!I made my costume this year. Because, yeah, there wasn't enough going on this month. Anyways, here I am!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOvNuBAPiX0Kj_UmCTO3q1_Phut_TJMTfXG2HjYT3lCL8bvOSnUv_rtts8r05hmHfh-owWRAWNo2TqNzYdqvtIiA8gZZR0tXRIjGewEyDnns2YTs3cnQWDmxhfEqbbBv15zaQl/s1600-h/costume+009.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOvNuBAPiX0Kj_UmCTO3q1_Phut_TJMTfXG2HjYT3lCL8bvOSnUv_rtts8r05hmHfh-owWRAWNo2TqNzYdqvtIiA8gZZR0tXRIjGewEyDnns2YTs3cnQWDmxhfEqbbBv15zaQl/s320/costume+009.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398567389292145826" /></a><br /><br />I'm supposed to be her:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPr3avE-zfKR11540LsJDlFwX6XBYga8pEr8R9nzW89rxp3XMi1fG8Vs9-UqI_YkG82mwfnlQFb3wsGI1cGrmIq_q7je5PQVmpjnUeFggcMUkY6YRO5jMFT9v33CLtKnKdVc00/s1600-h/daisy.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPr3avE-zfKR11540LsJDlFwX6XBYga8pEr8R9nzW89rxp3XMi1fG8Vs9-UqI_YkG82mwfnlQFb3wsGI1cGrmIq_q7je5PQVmpjnUeFggcMUkY6YRO5jMFT9v33CLtKnKdVc00/s320/daisy.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398567993777517970" /></a><br /><br />This is my first sewing project that involved a pattern or anything more complicated than a square. I'm rather tickled about how it worked out.Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-70179150147197685012009-10-03T09:07:00.004-05:002009-10-03T09:14:43.200-05:00The Blank CanvasA quick tour of the apartment, before all of our stuff got moved in:<br /><br />The master bedroom:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWTXF6qaxH02XmSNwxT6pz4OB4UMXl3xNzz7g_2AOsdeTadWRZF19vacjVjei5fO1H_pZOztOdRsQwFn8lvOI1LsBoRjpWP_0lDdkCGe95Yos_TLTq5HWgDxs1xP0uAkOF1nKa/s1600-h/Apartment+030.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWTXF6qaxH02XmSNwxT6pz4OB4UMXl3xNzz7g_2AOsdeTadWRZF19vacjVjei5fO1H_pZOztOdRsQwFn8lvOI1LsBoRjpWP_0lDdkCGe95Yos_TLTq5HWgDxs1xP0uAkOF1nKa/s320/Apartment+030.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388375530694787586" /></a><br /><br />The second bedroom (also known as the game room):<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWHlDnVBPRfxlcBm3K2RdQSJm2F0_M6ZvmTLruyGhtJCppzOspneHSewnnszx4jTEHV34rPs2HgpQ77bVYRzZ6uT3m3js4ksgI6XMD3JKsO5dVjgozcpvS4wxPW8xAfOCbdKvz/s1600-h/Apartment+029.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWHlDnVBPRfxlcBm3K2RdQSJm2F0_M6ZvmTLruyGhtJCppzOspneHSewnnszx4jTEHV34rPs2HgpQ77bVYRzZ6uT3m3js4ksgI6XMD3JKsO5dVjgozcpvS4wxPW8xAfOCbdKvz/s320/Apartment+029.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388375522609374850" /></a><br /><br />The living room:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPWJKETrJr5BRQZ5Fkhxj1PJ-FLY5hH7a9IkZKTqgzZ2yNV2HxgEMnCTCNMQR9j386ZY9IOIXYFlQPhai8hjjTHjhX_3DJH4gSRE8Etvs7iSqDx73IJNrakSYAGps6AGU5Se9F/s1600-h/Apartment+028.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPWJKETrJr5BRQZ5Fkhxj1PJ-FLY5hH7a9IkZKTqgzZ2yNV2HxgEMnCTCNMQR9j386ZY9IOIXYFlQPhai8hjjTHjhX_3DJH4gSRE8Etvs7iSqDx73IJNrakSYAGps6AGU5Se9F/s320/Apartment+028.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388375517030975346" /></a><br /><br />The kitchen, with the grooviest tile in the world:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho_8BAWeZ_DV1l9Ww0mj6aHU6cZZMK4SmE-jihixwKknLVqm6-d5T_vL50VXyQUrm0FgCnKOL2DiGKFh3JPuSAdl2G25cZJQ-HwB-XwCNHBj8Iat9XMBl5_6bzYYO7gCVmmRNj/s1600-h/Apartment+026.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho_8BAWeZ_DV1l9Ww0mj6aHU6cZZMK4SmE-jihixwKknLVqm6-d5T_vL50VXyQUrm0FgCnKOL2DiGKFh3JPuSAdl2G25cZJQ-HwB-XwCNHBj8Iat9XMBl5_6bzYYO7gCVmmRNj/s320/Apartment+026.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388375510404752834" /></a><br /><br />The cats are slowly adjusting, but here are a few shots of them from the first day:<br /><br />Stinky had to be taken out of the litter box after a few hours:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil8pqwksie-UOvoBNNUcYxlSGRJ-mNkXl-308E55C78PGTqRAAf2uHKK9ar0wKk3b-rLWzWDq7Nva1TD_ttmraSmr2NF2n88c5PkOYEHTrrdYrs7AxxRJD7edDOXHmzZNO6PdT/s1600-h/Apartment+036.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil8pqwksie-UOvoBNNUcYxlSGRJ-mNkXl-308E55C78PGTqRAAf2uHKK9ar0wKk3b-rLWzWDq7Nva1TD_ttmraSmr2NF2n88c5PkOYEHTrrdYrs7AxxRJD7edDOXHmzZNO6PdT/s320/Apartment+036.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388375800817617330" /></a><br /><br />Brother and sister protecting each other:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikb1EXATrsqThiufQ4K0LIgzIh49xlNZZ0LabNRFJRMi65D9HNzXNqDfsGUahp1B7cDAtlhwr8XwjChoXiyN20V_Vk4URgr0H6u4HAyUT5RP6cjvZtfL5sqlxYF7s1IPPSazus/s1600-h/Apartment+035.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikb1EXATrsqThiufQ4K0LIgzIh49xlNZZ0LabNRFJRMi65D9HNzXNqDfsGUahp1B7cDAtlhwr8XwjChoXiyN20V_Vk4URgr0H6u4HAyUT5RP6cjvZtfL5sqlxYF7s1IPPSazus/s320/Apartment+035.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388375539536409122" /></a><br /><br />They're doing better now. They're still leery of the new place, but they're exploring a bit more. They still prefer to be in whatever room Dan is in.Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-81102840873909191952009-10-02T13:59:00.002-05:002009-10-02T14:34:08.536-05:00ScaryDan and I moved into our very first apartment together yesterday. (Photos to come, I promise!) The cats are traumatized to the extreme and probably won't forgive us for a few days. <br /><br />In other news, I have a problem student in the class that I am teaching. He is extremely disruptive in class and basically acts like a high schooler. <br /><br />A few weeks ago he got really upset at me for asking him what his paper topic was and I got so alarmed by his violence that I contacted the Dean of Student Affairs, in case anything further happened. <br /><br />Well it did. Today I kept him after class because he was screwing around, as usual, and he went off on me. To the point that another student actually stayed in the hallway when she heard, to make sure that I was ok. I contacted the Dean again for help and he's being charged with two counts of student misconduct and has to have a meeting before he's allowed back in my class. <br /><br />Oh yes, and there will be a plain clothes police officer in the hall outside of my class on Monday. Just in case. <br /><br />God it's horrible that these are the plans that we have to make. Apparently the police officer is standard in these situations, to make sure that the student doesn't come and do anything stupid. At first I just thought they were being over dramatic, but when you think about the different things that have happened recently... <br /><br />I'm just glad that I have such great support from the other departments. And a house full of boxes to unpack and distract me.Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-91098821960932311762009-09-16T10:35:00.003-05:002009-09-16T10:43:44.007-05:00It's a World of Laughter, A World of Care...Imagine if you will...<br /><br />I am sitting in a small conference room with seven other graduate students, all of us preparing for the wacky adventure called teaching. <br /><br />It's during a break. We are chitchatting, discussing ourselves, our lives and other unimportant things. I confess that I'm living with my boyfriend in his parents' basement until we find an apartment. Another woman laughs and shakes her head, "All these things you keep saying remind me of my ex."<br /><br />I smile and nod. "That's cause I think I am dating your ex. Did you date Dan Lastname?" Her expression answered the question for me. She looked HORRIFIED. I, on the other hand, having come to the conclusion a few days prior to this, was laughing hysterically. I think it's the funniest damn thing that's happened to me in a long time. <br /><br />It's a strange situation, you can't deny that. She's in another class with me and sometimes I look at her and wonder "Why did they date?" and at other times I look at her and understand "Oh, that's why they dated!". It's a weird opportunity to observe this woman who he used to love. I try not to compare, and we're very different so it's easy, but still... there has to be something about me that is similar to something about her.<br /><br />It's a small, small world.Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-65774677881416814442009-09-13T15:39:00.004-05:002009-09-13T18:43:44.625-05:00Meet The KidsWhen I moved in with Dan I got a lot of things that I didn't have before. Access to back rubs 24/7, a nightly blanket thief, and a whole slew of Steven Seagal movies. I also became co-owner to three furry blobs.<br /><br />Stinky: <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXWK2GU9YB5qHiOkS2bYoS0Rcstmfsna142nfparoUJwBcNBtEE581ufiOEKPqz3jCySdpueLdaPMNslxvAmMcVB5K81NimoqExgYmjZ7ljyiSp6FXNw3aarZRw-AldWY7P9pY/s1600-h/Stinky.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXWK2GU9YB5qHiOkS2bYoS0Rcstmfsna142nfparoUJwBcNBtEE581ufiOEKPqz3jCySdpueLdaPMNslxvAmMcVB5K81NimoqExgYmjZ7ljyiSp6FXNw3aarZRw-AldWY7P9pY/s320/Stinky.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381054766770348674" /></a><br />Stinky, so named because when he was rescued he thanked Dan by tooting in the car all the way home, is my cat. I have adopted him as my own 100%. He is the fall guy for the other two. They'll cause trouble and poor Stinky gets the blame. I've become his protector. Admittedly he is a trouble maker, but he does it with good intentions. <br /><br />Isis:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVJk5EmYn9c0047WlonuETNc-0g1IUEIE6Z4CioDuXSEZMPcdBHgqlcwQexBlz9eM1QVS4PhgS-JVnWDB-GwXGgMUyvSCPxePw_wDOFsMVjRGUQNPqn_LAhf7Ac9WSkGMvrEVU/s1600-h/Isis.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVJk5EmYn9c0047WlonuETNc-0g1IUEIE6Z4CioDuXSEZMPcdBHgqlcwQexBlz9eM1QVS4PhgS-JVnWDB-GwXGgMUyvSCPxePw_wDOFsMVjRGUQNPqn_LAhf7Ac9WSkGMvrEVU/s320/Isis.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381054761021812738" /></a><br />Also known as Princess PrissyPants, Isis is Dan's baby. If the world was ending and we were getting into an escape pod, Dan would help her get settled and then decide if there was room for me. She's a very sweet cat who loves to share my desk chair with me. She has the cutest little chirruping meow and is so fat that she looks like she swallowed a cantaloupe. I'm trying to figure out a kitty diet for her. <br /><br />Sebastian:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHP8k7B7O-il52TmVN9HvciHw8lMHn750sO4SqwJue1_MYrCLNWRhK8GLnemtvcAvrvwQenZ3LAA6nTHnJNFXEWXh55Jv2jTU3lysW6Vvq5X4RaVDX3X4YoeHTV1J0oAfYBmIZ/s1600-h/Sebastian.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHP8k7B7O-il52TmVN9HvciHw8lMHn750sO4SqwJue1_MYrCLNWRhK8GLnemtvcAvrvwQenZ3LAA6nTHnJNFXEWXh55Jv2jTU3lysW6Vvq5X4RaVDX3X4YoeHTV1J0oAfYBmIZ/s320/Sebastian.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381054753914825810" /></a><br />Brother of Isis, Sebastian, also known as Bubbah and Captain FuzzyPants, is as dumb as a post and is 100% Dan's cat. He wants nothing to do with me. If Dan is at his desk, Sebastian will be in his lap within seconds. He is also the most photogenic cat I have ever seen. <br /><br />The cats are all adorable and they're slowly getting used to the idea of me being around all the time. I don't think Isis enjoys sharing the bed with another female, but she's getting used to it. I'm eager to see how they react to having a whole new house to explore. <br /><br />Next post: It's a Small World After All, how I found out that Dan's Ex is in the same Master's program as me.Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-72902601866484571552009-09-10T10:12:00.003-05:002009-09-10T10:26:33.314-05:00A New Sort of LifeI almost feel like this is a whole new beginning for the blog, it's been so long since I posted anything with real content. Whole new life, whole new location, whole new Kelly to go along with it. <br /><br />Here's a short, short version of everything that has happened since graduation:<br /><br />*Mom made a full recovery from her sickness. <br />*I spent the summer getting hit on by middle-aged men while serving beer at a golf course. <br />*On August 8th, I moved in with Dan, in his parents' basement. <br />*On August 24th, I started teaching and taking graduate classes.<br />*<a href="http://knittinginthedark.mypodcast.com/">I started a podcast!</a> <br />*On Sept 7th, Dan and I signed the lease on our first apartment together. <br /><br />The whole apartment thing is... almost eerie in how well it worked out. We had been looking for a while, always disappointed because they wouldn't allow 3 cats. Then we called this one ad, but the apartment wasn't in the area we wanted. <br /><br />But wait, said the guy on the phone, I have another apartment coming available soon in the area you want. For a rent that seems like pennies. And I won't charge you extra for the cats. And I'll pay for your heat, water, sewer and trash. Would you be interested? <br /><br />Needless to say, we were. It's an adorable apartment, 2 bedrooms, in a nice area, close to everything, including school, and on October 1st, it's ours. After signing the lease, we decided to celebrate in as adult a manner as possible:<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/v2OKTZ_NhuE&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/v2OKTZ_NhuE&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />Next post: Meet my new kitties!Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-5641485737787123672009-06-08T20:03:00.000-05:002009-06-08T20:04:38.339-05:00Work At A Golf CourseYou'll be out in the sun!<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qoygXdTHh0E&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qoygXdTHh0E&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-6247012527117286582009-05-27T23:26:00.004-05:002009-05-27T23:48:06.346-05:00Nothing Short of A MiracleIt's been a long time since I posted. Two or three lifetimes it seems. <br /><br />Mom is coming home tomorrow. After a long stay in a physical rehab place to regain her strength after being sick for so long. Her recovery still makes me glance upwards in appreciation. <br /><br />As I said in my last post, she went downhill abruptly in the middle of the week. The doctors were planning to do the tracheostomy on Monday. When I spoke to the nurses on Sunday evening, May 3rd, that was still the plan. <br /><br />I was at work on Monday (May 4th) when my phone started ringing. I dropped what I was doing and ran to take the call. It was Dad. <br /><br />"She's awake. She's... they... She's off the breathing machine, awake. I was going to check on her, sit with her for a while before going to work and I turned the corner and she was up, looking at me, with just the mask on her face." <br /><br />Needless to say, we were all in complete shock. Dad called me somewhere around 10 times that day and just kept repeating himself "I turned the corner and she was up, with just the mask on..." <br /><br />None of the doctors can explain it. She hadn't been making very good progress at all, but apparently that changed overnight. <br /><br />She stayed in the ICU for a few more days, then was in a regular room, then was sent to a physical rehab place. And tomorrow, between 10:30 and 11:00 she is coming home. Home after over a month in the hospital, 10 days in a coma, brushing elbows with death and coming back to her family. <br /><br />It's nothing short of a miracle. <br /><br />And in the midst of all of this, I graduated. It was hard, knowing that I wasn't going to have any family at graduation. Dan and his entire family were coming, but it just wasn't the same as having my own family there. <br /><br />Night before the big day Dan was helping me with the last minute packing and suggested we go out for dinner. We headed out and I got the shock of my life. There, waiting at the restaurant, was my brother and sister. He had flown in from the West Coast, picked up lil sis and drove the 5 hours down to school to surprise me, because he didn't want me to not have family there at graduation. It meant more to me than I think anyone will ever know. <br /><br />Graduation itself went off without a hitch. I do wish Mom and Dad could have been there, and they've both tearfully told me that they would have given the world to see it, but what is important is that I still have both my parents with me. And Dan recorded it, so it's all on video. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2MeqBDaaKV9cnLSPP1bfCbj_s127YwmmEV-8OQqvTZDCs1er9JOKr-8oATkrpb1XfWTicI-q12DXIo9cubmSpyocupMyzjfNwEIza3lN5xhXfwR-2DffYynDpLLrkBd7eNinO/s1600-h/Happy+Grad.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2MeqBDaaKV9cnLSPP1bfCbj_s127YwmmEV-8OQqvTZDCs1er9JOKr-8oATkrpb1XfWTicI-q12DXIo9cubmSpyocupMyzjfNwEIza3lN5xhXfwR-2DffYynDpLLrkBd7eNinO/s400/Happy+Grad.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340731297285363634" /></a>Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-8973951647809257992009-05-01T14:38:00.002-05:002009-05-01T15:41:32.353-05:00It's all... bigTwo weeks ago today my mom went into the hospital via ambulance because she couldn't breathe. She had been fighting a chest cold for a week at that point. <br /><br />On the following Wednesday I got a phone call at 8am from my Dad that they were moving her from a regular room into the ICU. I left work, Dan left his student teaching job and we drove back home. I spent the night in the ICU with her.<br /><br />The next morning, Thursday, she was placed in a medically induced coma and put on a ventilator because even with an oxygen mask on, she was unable to keep her O2 levels within a safe zone. <br /><br />It was very scary, watching her struggle to breathe. And when they decided to put her in the coma and on the ventilator it was such a rushed decision, my dad and I were pushed from the room and I didn't get to say anything to her. The last thing I said before she went under was when she got upset at me and I told her not to be sassy. <br /><br />Since then, everything has been hurry up and wait. Wait for her to get better. Wait for her lungs to empty of all the fluid that is, in effect, drowning her. Wait to see if she's going to be called away from us. <br /><br />Because the semester is coming to a close, Dan and I were only able to stay for a week. Leaving her bedside was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. <br /><br />So she was placed into a coma. And she FOUGHT against it like you wouldn't believe. The nurses said that, with the medicine she was on, she should have been completely unconscious. Instead, stubborn as always, she kept waking up and looking around, a few times she woke up, looking over at me and started to cry. <br /><br />In the midst of all of this I was at the house, washing dishes when Dad came in. There was such an expression of... pain on his face that I was positive he'd gotten bad news from the hospital. He looked at me for a second before looking away. "You know that we can't come to graduation, right?" I told him it wasn't even anything that he needed to worry about right then. Before I headed back to school to finish out the semester he gave Dan the camcorder so that he could record graduation. (I'm graduating cum laude!!)<br /><br />Since I left her condition worsened considerably. This past Wednesday she was recieving 95% oxygen and her body was only retaining 92%. The doctor in charge of her case told my dad that he had never seen someone as sick as Mom was. <br /><br />Then... last night I got a call from Dad. Mom's nurse for the next few days is a self proclaimed "Stubborn Polack" who was sick of seeing Mom in her ICU, so she was going to force her to get better. After a few hours in this woman's care she was down to 60% oxygen and was retaining 98% of it. This morning she was down to 55% oxygen and was keeping 93%. <br /><br />I don't want to risk jinxing it, but I'm really hoping that she's starting to heal. This upcoming Monday they are going to do a tracheostomy because they can't keep the tubes down her throat for any longer because it'll damage her vocal cords. The good thing about this is that with the trech it's easier to wean her from the O2 because if she has a crisis all they need to do is clip the tubes to the trech instead of intubating her. <br /><br />Now I just hope that they don't wake her up until after graduation otherwise she'll make herself worse worrying over missing it. As for me... I just want to go home and be with her.Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-57284302864764595592009-04-05T21:39:00.004-05:002009-04-05T22:00:21.972-05:00Cahokia MoundsEver since I changed my minor from linguistics to anthropology, I have been learning things that I never knew existed. Such as Cahokia Mounds. <br /><br />Cahokia was an ancient Native American city located near modern day St. Louis. It consisted of hundreds of mounds, serving both ritual and common needs. The largest of these is known as Monk's Mound, named for the monastery that was built upon it. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKQNNmlwcDI0FXTtf11zgQDtPQo2CwbQzDAfCud_bMRZlrL-P6e7yR32rvJcS59RJeSgM-9P58SgjgQx5Y5HQbsEsBUv2EnerIgfgCfpeym0qpkM3e1wLWVQtj0m5j-rMoi-8n/s1600-h/Pics+029.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKQNNmlwcDI0FXTtf11zgQDtPQo2CwbQzDAfCud_bMRZlrL-P6e7yR32rvJcS59RJeSgM-9P58SgjgQx5Y5HQbsEsBUv2EnerIgfgCfpeym0qpkM3e1wLWVQtj0m5j-rMoi-8n/s400/Pics+029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321403565442032514" border="0" /></a>This is Monk's Mound. Estimates believe that it took around 167 years to build and is made entirely from dirt. See that tiny speck at the top of the mound? That's Dan. :)<br /><br />We headed to Cahokia to listen to a lecture so that I could earn some much needed extra credit in my New World City States class. After the lecture we headed out to Monk's Mound.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_tOy4N_NNzZeGxlw7-5vv3fALxJdE3SYwvlXSbo7LBPz_AIanbw9yeCHCcx4Q-peG_n-HlNETNRs0yBua_Vq4z_PWH58TTVB7EJUdZKo3WQ_QrpX6F70q5TYzeV8y2xFAlCYF/s1600-h/Pics+016.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_tOy4N_NNzZeGxlw7-5vv3fALxJdE3SYwvlXSbo7LBPz_AIanbw9yeCHCcx4Q-peG_n-HlNETNRs0yBua_Vq4z_PWH58TTVB7EJUdZKo3WQ_QrpX6F70q5TYzeV8y2xFAlCYF/s400/Pics+016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321402992929270082" border="0" /></a>It's quite a climb to get up there. I lost count when I was trying to count the stairs. It suddenly seemed more important to remember to breathe. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhyphenhyphenhhbu17RepkMRamyuOv-AHuXk0l_cFZgX7DuDKenWifq5birceqv5lqn-jD6o0a15FMjfuqt8OQz8_xTrk3doTclGogMLruNfGqlOFvLghyphenhypheni8GuAz8_CmduR0LdD0m_q4f9t/s1600-h/Pics+024.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhyphenhyphenhhbu17RepkMRamyuOv-AHuXk0l_cFZgX7DuDKenWifq5birceqv5lqn-jD6o0a15FMjfuqt8OQz8_xTrk3doTclGogMLruNfGqlOFvLghyphenhypheni8GuAz8_CmduR0LdD0m_q4f9t/s400/Pics+024.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321402995234785154" border="0" /></a>This is the second set of stairs that you have to go up to get to the top of the mound. This set alone has more than 100 stairs. The first set of stairs isn't as large and only has, at most, 50 stairs. <br /><br />We were both winded. Mouth to mouth was necessary for survival. ;)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgylVA1rtSWsILQY6qyKzhSo599LBCgUpdfy987f_or0u-ahMDRR_0v0ddUTvWl72ro1xejI7IBZEfK-3_7ocCq2RIDQd6cipZYXJkwRbMWhTAsWz5iwgN1xcFcA5kLzlNIib1m/s1600-h/Pics+023.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 349px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgylVA1rtSWsILQY6qyKzhSo599LBCgUpdfy987f_or0u-ahMDRR_0v0ddUTvWl72ro1xejI7IBZEfK-3_7ocCq2RIDQd6cipZYXJkwRbMWhTAsWz5iwgN1xcFcA5kLzlNIib1m/s400/Pics+023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321402996093446226" border="0" /></a>I love that we wear our geekiness on our shirts. He with his Chuck Norris, me with my Ghostbusters. <br /><br />This sign pleased me more than I can say...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDK0zMhqimiYa54CKZkYUs6gHfoGCr1Zn7KxRwvDKhZ1GdE6E-IL90HHQJWQsVYRuaqzTnqL14GIcjHGvg5YRx8ygjUbRu7isB0_dCkQ4g3_wi3ilLfiFX470R9uvGI3sQl4X-/s1600-h/Pics+031.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDK0zMhqimiYa54CKZkYUs6gHfoGCr1Zn7KxRwvDKhZ1GdE6E-IL90HHQJWQsVYRuaqzTnqL14GIcjHGvg5YRx8ygjUbRu7isB0_dCkQ4g3_wi3ilLfiFX470R9uvGI3sQl4X-/s400/Pics+031.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321403572110300290" border="0" /></a>Sledding down that huge hill hadn't even occurred to me. Especially as there is a major road directly in front of it.Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-43885174084725256152009-04-01T17:19:00.002-05:002009-04-01T18:05:20.834-05:00Wow...<span style="font-size:180%;">I GOT THE GRADUATE ASSISTANTSHIP!!!!!!!!!!!!</span><br /><br />I'll be teaching three courses over the next year. One in the fall and two in the spring. My tuition will be paid for by the department and I will also be receiving a monthly stipend from them. I am SO excited!!Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-47092884067421283522009-03-19T15:18:00.001-05:002009-03-19T15:22:34.992-05:00I GOT IN!!!!!I GOT IN TO GRADUATE SCHOOL!!!!<br /><br />Time to party!!!<br /><br />Still waiting to hear back about the graduate assistantship.Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-64135993538904612212009-03-04T14:46:00.002-06:002009-03-04T15:02:35.284-06:00Alive, But Just BarelyI can't believe it has been nearly a month since I updated! I hang my head in bloggish shame. <br /><br />However the time in between posts had not gone idly by. Dan and I got married. <br /><br />Just kidding. :) <br /><br />I submitted my grad school application. And my application for a Graduate Assistantship. And submitted one of my papers for a scholarship award that's being given out later in the semester. <br /><br />Not kidding. <br /><br />Now the waiting begins. Waiting to find out if I was accepted into the grad school. Waiting to find out if I will be getting my tuition waived, teaching a course <br />(!!!!!) and helping students out in the writing center on campus. Keep your stitches crossed for me! <br /><br />It's highly stressful. I keep suddenly realizing that all this stressful life changing stuff is out there, waiting in the ether, waiting to be judged, waiting until I hear back about whether or not my life will continue on the path that I'm hoping it will, and then my heart stops, my stomach twists and I have to try not to cry. <br /><br />I have two FOs that I need to photograph and post, but my knitting time has been drastically reduced by the amount of homework that I have from day to day. Spring break is next week and I'm not going to have any time then either, as I'm scheduled to work 37 hours, have 3 books to read and two research projects to get started on. But I do have a few projects that I'm hoping to work on during the break. <br /><br />How have you been?Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-30183219689038748152009-02-18T19:24:00.001-06:002009-02-18T19:25:57.446-06:00RosesLook how beautifully the roses Dan got me are blooming!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3HDtmkeA5-q80jDZX0J7ZnZ6f0QZtn1lmjGB8Hq8Goa7QiS8QL5Skz9olf-6ddYshtcvJOaitMV0Ztt8ZgEoHjEFep26yySxl9SncVSIkSkkjFhLzciTCU_MO3rg5bqKvSXIe/s1600-h/Pics+011.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3HDtmkeA5-q80jDZX0J7ZnZ6f0QZtn1lmjGB8Hq8Goa7QiS8QL5Skz9olf-6ddYshtcvJOaitMV0Ztt8ZgEoHjEFep26yySxl9SncVSIkSkkjFhLzciTCU_MO3rg5bqKvSXIe/s400/Pics+011.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304313481219398770" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPJG-vBwFsuAgMVbjCcDZ98Fa8u6YuIzxTyQXvjTZDvejjAKiD5C9AFY5gXwOqtGHB0uagPq1jOmS2mn1AfP4oRKwJGCyu7C_rNfRBvGdV-At96BmGhDU3YHVxSR-iyJnZt23G/s1600-h/Pics+010.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPJG-vBwFsuAgMVbjCcDZ98Fa8u6YuIzxTyQXvjTZDvejjAKiD5C9AFY5gXwOqtGHB0uagPq1jOmS2mn1AfP4oRKwJGCyu7C_rNfRBvGdV-At96BmGhDU3YHVxSR-iyJnZt23G/s400/Pics+010.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304313476605735138" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRJriv3fv87Bxl4v-Z8yir-2QOjzpEm1g7Zv5B90RBRI4SsnKtcDP_lXoWMo97001q1aalztFE_hb8aMjijfD6iaDk5KvrYc4nHJwT9CO3kSUhF-0QWbHYMw1qe50O9N3Tn1Br/s1600-h/Pics+009.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRJriv3fv87Bxl4v-Z8yir-2QOjzpEm1g7Zv5B90RBRI4SsnKtcDP_lXoWMo97001q1aalztFE_hb8aMjijfD6iaDk5KvrYc4nHJwT9CO3kSUhF-0QWbHYMw1qe50O9N3Tn1Br/s400/Pics+009.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304313472125648354" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9o45o5Itk0bZUtqRkLFfwJbATmtX8Pg4iGtCg_EtfZbO_5_t7Ihs12LRtlXDE0RwUi4wyRljhdRFD0iXf-3Oze6NCtxsSnigKltFNsNcbrtWVmPNclb2f6REuZ-AxINLiDLXd/s1600-h/Pics+008.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9o45o5Itk0bZUtqRkLFfwJbATmtX8Pg4iGtCg_EtfZbO_5_t7Ihs12LRtlXDE0RwUi4wyRljhdRFD0iXf-3Oze6NCtxsSnigKltFNsNcbrtWVmPNclb2f6REuZ-AxINLiDLXd/s400/Pics+008.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304313472441658450" /></a>Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-45630462326963895102009-02-16T22:04:00.004-06:002009-02-16T22:11:25.073-06:00Awww!Dan and I were both sick over Valentine's day, so we were unable to spend any time together this past weekend. So we spent the weekend talking via IM, poor Dan had no voice, and picking on each other. <br /><br />I teased him about faking sick to get out of Valentine's day and being 0% romantic. Little did I know!<br /><br />I walked out of class today and was actually on the phone with Dan, heading towards my car, when I saw him standing at my car, with a dozen roses and his traditional gift, a jar of pickles*. <br /><br />I was very excited, not only because I hadn't seen him in over a week, but also because these were my first ever Valentine's roses. It was the sweetest surprise ever, and boy did I feel like an ass for teasing him about being so unromantic!<br /><br />*Pickles became a traditional gift when he gave me a jar for our first Valentine's day together, as he views purchasing and handling pickles as the greatest display of love that he can imagine, since he abhors them with a passion and cannot be near me when I eat them.Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-1174962800194742902009-02-02T19:33:00.002-06:002009-02-02T19:40:19.708-06:00WowSo I'm in the process of applying for grad school and an assistantship. It's all very scary and different and, as such, I think that's feeding into my whole loss of mojo. <br /><br />Enter my current English professor for my senior seminar. During class I pointed out a theme in the poem we were discussing and he got all excited because someone had spotted it and then told me to take the discussion. I spent the next 10 minutes basically teaching the class, pointing out different parts of the poem where this theme entered, etc. It was very cool. <br /><br />After class I stayed to ask him about my first paper that I'm working on. While walking down the hall he asked what my plans in life were. I told him I wanted to be a college professor his response was "Good, excellent. You know, Dr. Suchandso speaks VERY highly of you. Are you applying to grad school?"<br /><br />I said yes, somewhat stunned that anyone, let alone two PhDs, had been discussing me. He asked my GPA and I told him, cumulative is 3.64, in the English department it's 4.0. <br /><br />"Applying for an assistantship as well?" I nodded slightly. <br /><br />He smiled at me and nodded. "You'll get in. You'll get it. Don't you worry about a thing." And with that, he headed down the hall to his office, unaware that he'd single-handedly replenished the mojo I had so recently lamented losing.Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-2762642361747814862009-02-01T20:17:00.003-06:002009-02-01T20:30:01.064-06:00*Insert Witty Title Here*My knitting mojo has left me. In fact... all of my mojo has left me. I am remarkably lazy and bored most of the time these days. I started a pair of endpaper mitts and then yanked them out. Frankly I'm impressed that I managed to get my laundry done today. <br /><br />The dorm drama goes on. We had another blow up wherein I informed Cassie that she was a liar, a child and so not worth the time I was wasting speaking to her. Since then she has managed to do her cleaning so time will tell. And, as I tell myself at least twenty times a day, it's just til May. <br /><br />I'm getting a bit annoyed with how much drama is starting to develop on Ravelry. It seems like every time something good comes along, like a community site where people with similar interests can come together, it goes to shit. In the past few weeks I've seen more snotty posts and ridiculous amounts of high school clique behavior. You may or may not have seen the stuff about some indie dyer possibly faking her own death. Beyond the drama of that, the people who claimed to have all of the info about it were refusing to tell anyone outside of their discussion group, that they were, quote "Keeping this one in the family folks". Because apparently now groups on ravelry are the mafia. Oy. <br /><br />I'm really hoping that it's the weather. That everyone and everything will relax, reboot and go back to some semblance of normalcy. <br /><br />Until then... here's a photo of a cookie.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Wku-FJ0vhva0NcxQVbaj5NuoN2xFEYq3Z7nfBnpC_5mvwfphOEjlnqMGJ2Gzqv9sLv8jOOtJv8uP_eWrYnGzM0L9Jc2LFsSCIs2ZQqJ25beKAPGWML6klTSQ_haoKTFk8JAN/s1600-h/New+Hair+001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Wku-FJ0vhva0NcxQVbaj5NuoN2xFEYq3Z7nfBnpC_5mvwfphOEjlnqMGJ2Gzqv9sLv8jOOtJv8uP_eWrYnGzM0L9Jc2LFsSCIs2ZQqJ25beKAPGWML6klTSQ_haoKTFk8JAN/s320/New+Hair+001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298018849970358418" /></a>Anyone else think it looks naughty?Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-64295926759990753492009-01-20T22:26:00.003-06:002009-01-20T22:35:34.232-06:00Snippet of Conversation"Sorry I missed your call sweety. I was translating the Magna Carta for Amanda."<br /><br />"Well shit, here I am struggling to grade a few papers. Why don't you kick me in the balls while you're at it. You gonna cure cancer too?"<br /><br />And then we laughed for a good ten minutes.Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-42639918981315292472009-01-12T19:18:00.001-06:002009-01-12T19:20:13.593-06:00A Better ShotOf the hair, not so much of my face. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikY3OtOaR-bsOPsRgDpFq1JMi3uRTsqOOXuQuFCB1DxEvDNKATvvKMTEuAC8kt37PCAXSTv66UXxOrNaj3CAIW2ddEq1BQFtOomELC6FzaT5iHC33ZfR_BM2RfvUtSygIiFgK1/s1600-h/New+Hair+002.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikY3OtOaR-bsOPsRgDpFq1JMi3uRTsqOOXuQuFCB1DxEvDNKATvvKMTEuAC8kt37PCAXSTv66UXxOrNaj3CAIW2ddEq1BQFtOomELC6FzaT5iHC33ZfR_BM2RfvUtSygIiFgK1/s400/New+Hair+002.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290581857049145474" /></a>Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-87981168509130145622009-01-11T20:17:00.002-06:002009-01-11T20:28:04.183-06:00Yay!!OK, so we remember the way my hair used to look:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdEKMWf2ksVV6nGIeCGDlFFv49APT5xmrFkHT6JqA0fDaWQkmMdbIvqE6Zt4sUEM3DH0-rzv9DFMPmH35RQe8rCgAgVuQ5nYrXwZIkoFpyv4cuSS27xIJCpkHbJ6P9XWocsxAh/s1600-h/scan0010.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 289px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdEKMWf2ksVV6nGIeCGDlFFv49APT5xmrFkHT6JqA0fDaWQkmMdbIvqE6Zt4sUEM3DH0-rzv9DFMPmH35RQe8rCgAgVuQ5nYrXwZIkoFpyv4cuSS27xIJCpkHbJ6P9XWocsxAh/s400/scan0010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290226219978815122" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And here, though horrible webcam photos, is my new hair style:<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpgl78XeNzOgys77s_yNgOnu2JS2qxszttgE-cuhrScC4XdB59J1Y0HyhkJv5QXMKJ95J6vEfJjEPdwGAII5f2HP-XGgOZPAQR0unzGv_4w-6isiNVaFs-xw24gQwmW0Nk6Ez0/s1600-h/Picture+18.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpgl78XeNzOgys77s_yNgOnu2JS2qxszttgE-cuhrScC4XdB59J1Y0HyhkJv5QXMKJ95J6vEfJjEPdwGAII5f2HP-XGgOZPAQR0unzGv_4w-6isiNVaFs-xw24gQwmW0Nk6Ez0/s400/Picture+18.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290225981524089266" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFp3pFV0ou7aR1bwbIlIvI8E-cVbPPpquk7XWwVXco5P6LAqOjiB5Agx4dnUzqg1BQhQkTiWy8Bo08nCvmprhObmn6Afl2-lQqmTgumpxoNUMJHZPhlEdAC5R6Jt840OidgOqP/s1600-h/Picture+19.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFp3pFV0ou7aR1bwbIlIvI8E-cVbPPpquk7XWwVXco5P6LAqOjiB5Agx4dnUzqg1BQhQkTiWy8Bo08nCvmprhObmn6Afl2-lQqmTgumpxoNUMJHZPhlEdAC5R6Jt840OidgOqP/s400/Picture+19.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290225981940983954" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I love it. LOVE LOVE LOVE it. Can't wait for Dan to see it. <br /><br />The meeting... not so good. It kinda went in a circle. Started badly, got good towards the middle and then ended badly. But I voiced a lot of stuff that I had been keeping in, including her calling me "it", "the creature" and "inhuman" behind my back. Her face when I confronted her about that... priceless. <br /><br />It ended badly. There will be fake and forced politeness and I know she'll continue to talk about me behind my back, but she knows I know about it, so maybe she'll be more careful to keep it on the downlow. <br /><br />Best comment of the meeting:<br /><br />Just because you hear me say your name and then that you're a bitch doesn't mean that the overall statement was negative.Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-47499462264903419142009-01-10T22:28:00.003-06:002009-01-10T22:41:30.734-06:00Oy...It has been a strange day.<br /><br />I left work early to go get my hair cut and dyed.<br /><br />She chopped off my hair. Then dyed it dark brown. Then told me that they needed to close and I would have to come back for the highlights. Then called the owner to see if she should stay. Then told me the owner said to come back. Then the owner called back and yelled at the woman for taking too long and told her to stay and finish, which pissed off the woman who then began aggressively combing my poor hair.<br /><br />I decided to leave and go back another day to get the highlights done. Tomorrow morning actually.<br /><br />I returned to the apartment, pulled off my jacket and wondered why it felt so cold. I checked the thermostat and found out why. Cassie had turned the heat off before she left. She had also made cookies and left them sitting out on the pan and gotten my spatula dirty without washing it.<br /><br />I sent her the following text message:<br /><br />I don't appreciate you turning the thermostat down to 55 so that I have to sleep in a cold apartment. Also, if you cannot wash my kitchen things after using them, don't use them.<br /><br />Apparently she was next door, so she ran over and started in on me. How was she supposed to know that the spatula wasn't hers? (I pointed out that if she didn't buy it, it doesn't belong to her) She didn't turn the heat off, she didn't know who did it, maybe her boyfriend did. (Whereupon I lost my temper a little, informed her that he had no right to touch the thermostat as it isn't his bleeping apartment, and either way it's still her problem to deal with because he's her guest)<br /><br />She left, I showered, got into my PJs, turned on my heated blanket to warm up my freezing room and got into bed to watch some TV before going to sleep.<br /><br />There's a knock at the door. It's the RA.<br /><br />Yes, because I confronted her about turning the heat off she arranged a mediation meeting with the RA. We're meeting tomorrow after I get off work at five.<br /><br />So tune in tomorrow for the exciting conclusion to this week's installment of<br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Dorm Room Drama!!!</span></span>Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-18040268585615509912009-01-08T19:23:00.003-06:002009-01-08T19:31:08.542-06:00Snip SnipMy hair has gotten really long. Like... stupid long. It's long to the point that I have to lift it up before I sit down in chairs, otherwise it's pinned and I can't move my head. <br /><br />So I've been debating a haircut for a while. What style, how short, highlights or no. I've decided on this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhHXtWTJ-8wBhmp9zp-41rUVp2EB8GNP4QtadPbOIOKVOrkByHcrf-1CTR3TbsMrzVCYJprPjviLaPSRr5s2UHUYmtuHeHK-5VBB70kAY7bCzm1YxhtuyRtBwLg_KsziQHZWin/s1600-h/buffy11.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 131px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhHXtWTJ-8wBhmp9zp-41rUVp2EB8GNP4QtadPbOIOKVOrkByHcrf-1CTR3TbsMrzVCYJprPjviLaPSRr5s2UHUYmtuHeHK-5VBB70kAY7bCzm1YxhtuyRtBwLg_KsziQHZWin/s400/buffy11.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289098638380469026" /></a><br /><br />I know, I know... a Buffy cut? But I've actually had this haircut before and it worked with my fat face. <br /><br />Pictures as soon as I get it done, which hopefully will be within the next week, as soon as my student loan refund gets into the bank.Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-49949168028942951032009-01-05T10:54:00.002-06:002009-01-05T11:21:27.900-06:00New YearMy year, thus far:<br /><br />I've had a raging sinus infection for nearly two weeks<br />Due to this, I haven't been able to taste food for the same amount of time<br />I had a killer migraine a few days ago<br />The thermostat housing unit on my car broke and I lost my heating system<br />My account at school wasn't cleared so I was freaking out about deadlines for graduation. <br /><br />BUT<br /><br />I'm now on antibiotics and I'm sure it'll clear up in no time<br />The problems with my car were fixed for free!<br />I called this morning, my account is cleared and all is well<br />I'm back at the apartment and there is no one else here with me. All is quiet and calm<br />AND!!!!!<br /><br />While at home I found a bag of clothes and brought them back to school with me. Sadly I realized they were a size smaller than what I'm wearing and started to put them away, then decided, what the hell, and tried them on. <br /><br />THEY FIT! I've gone down an entire size while at school. <br /><br />Classes start next Monday, I have today off of work. I'm planning on running a few simple errands and then knitting my little heart out.Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-14440776376693990692008-12-24T08:08:00.003-06:002008-12-24T08:16:24.508-06:00Snow Kisses<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgglOXnwZWygDzrPMxyFswzi_KbyUac24fb86GK7CvhCqdo3Al70zAqn338xtz8RlAOw7SxQ02AcXKjbse2Zz2Y8RfEugZ3xU0r6niLXSCinI0FHx9gBZ02PH_0TSYBNkufEafv/s1600-h/Random+011.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgglOXnwZWygDzrPMxyFswzi_KbyUac24fb86GK7CvhCqdo3Al70zAqn338xtz8RlAOw7SxQ02AcXKjbse2Zz2Y8RfEugZ3xU0r6niLXSCinI0FHx9gBZ02PH_0TSYBNkufEafv/s200/Random+011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283358642723882402" border="0" /></a>`Do you know what to-morrow is, Kitty?' Alice began. `You'd have guessed if you'd been up in the window with me"<br /><br />`Do you hear the snow against the window-panes, Kitty? How nice and soft it sounds! Just as if some one was kissing the window all over outside. I wonder if the snow LOVES the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim7zk0pSd6TH4HPpj4zqDvwLnqR0IobpiAX2RLHdxLfE-006ePlF1tfE4La5oty9VErBfcARb_rp64xtS9Kc5z5iRnl3LL6bdywrmPvYhfgUBMvCBJ8kt4-Ur9JjDAaDWNbhT4/s1600-h/Random+012.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim7zk0pSd6TH4HPpj4zqDvwLnqR0IobpiAX2RLHdxLfE-006ePlF1tfE4La5oty9VErBfcARb_rp64xtS9Kc5z5iRnl3LL6bdywrmPvYhfgUBMvCBJ8kt4-Ur9JjDAaDWNbhT4/s200/Random+012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283358885951784658" border="0" /></a>And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again." And when they wake up in the summer, Kitty, they dress themselves all in green, and dance about -- whenever the wind blows -- oh, that's very pretty!' cried Alice, dropping the ball of worsted to clap her hands. `And I do so WISH it was true!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Happiest</span> Holidays To You and Your Families</span>Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8713139.post-72764411430576308162008-12-19T18:36:00.003-06:002008-12-19T18:44:12.907-06:00Christmas PhotosAs promised, here are the pictures that Dan and I had taken last week. I'm so pleased with how they turned out!<br /><br />Dan Quote: "Aw.. your hat is bigger than mine!"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimUS-t2n-3Jmmzfwyztj2TA24AFNPllA3CcMEI1g5WmGuJ0aV74qOtTMXN0zgKczmV7o8h6jhXFtUif9BnPIT22UH07OYIU6WrTkhgeJkai6LDqwSFFaqmgfiJudHMHbasfwEP/s1600-h/scan0011.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimUS-t2n-3Jmmzfwyztj2TA24AFNPllA3CcMEI1g5WmGuJ0aV74qOtTMXN0zgKczmV7o8h6jhXFtUif9BnPIT22UH07OYIU6WrTkhgeJkai6LDqwSFFaqmgfiJudHMHbasfwEP/s320/scan0011.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281665260719546130" /></a><br />Traditional shot.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihp2ug8AaJvF6i2X7RqzxxfHEk_QxvTsKIhbyzDvwrUBYEyZ1yygy9r8g8rSo_tjHHF4RguyT87BGB-Fv0yRTnW-va4AXqzhn1BxsxVtOjTBZb7ZcMdgqF0iL3I679o_MVQe6x/s1600-h/scan0010.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 231px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihp2ug8AaJvF6i2X7RqzxxfHEk_QxvTsKIhbyzDvwrUBYEyZ1yygy9r8g8rSo_tjHHF4RguyT87BGB-Fv0yRTnW-va4AXqzhn1BxsxVtOjTBZb7ZcMdgqF0iL3I679o_MVQe6x/s320/scan0010.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281665257154040162" /></a><br />Yup... he's a wrestling nerd. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIZg5KbyDw7sCb-znsxSRPNMHvxrL7ki3azxZXOBRosJp1tNeGuQnGvy4gh4V6iFuC6wRS5TeBtKGgUVfDfnYQ4v3wDhSTv7zw6qqOWGNz_1tu3cDfix6YToAyvP8YYYhVP7Pn/s1600-h/scan0009.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIZg5KbyDw7sCb-znsxSRPNMHvxrL7ki3azxZXOBRosJp1tNeGuQnGvy4gh4V6iFuC6wRS5TeBtKGgUVfDfnYQ4v3wDhSTv7zw6qqOWGNz_1tu3cDfix6YToAyvP8YYYhVP7Pn/s320/scan0009.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281665243376509650" /></a><br />I absolutely love his expression in this picture. But here's how sweet he is. After we left he made sure to tell me that he doesn't feel that way about my knitting.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirkp-4k97VLLWXuJtfuqd_keS6rf45tcoo9XqsIkYJNcQXruaxT2s3V2exZNHMmANGXWqEGUe8ej6t_LGm5WBPy4iqoxcoJf-ko-9_yGrm66kQeI02pO1kQRQ7OTxYx9xf4oQg/s1600-h/scan0008.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirkp-4k97VLLWXuJtfuqd_keS6rf45tcoo9XqsIkYJNcQXruaxT2s3V2exZNHMmANGXWqEGUe8ej6t_LGm5WBPy4iqoxcoJf-ko-9_yGrm66kQeI02pO1kQRQ7OTxYx9xf4oQg/s320/scan0008.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281665242326119938" /></a><br />Now they just need to be put into their frames for both our parents.Just A Knit Withttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00883981410278546537noreply@blogger.com11