Job!

I have excellent, excellent news!

I had simultaneous job offers from an ad agency and a software company's creative services department. I loved the agency. But I went with the software company. Both because the offer was fantastic and the location couldn't be more perfect, and because the agency was a little flaky. And don't get me wrong, I totally get being all loose and nontraditional and stuff, but when it comes to making a job offer, I'd like to see something a little more grounded than just "we'd love to hire you! Let me know what the other company says..." and then ignoring my emails.

I'm super excited. The office is located in a historic district and overlooks a little cobblestone street of shops and restaurants. The building has hardwood floors, wide-open windows, gorgeous fixtures. I felt creative just breathing in there.

I also have a backlog of some really cool yarn to put up in the shop, and now that it looks like my start date will be somewhere around Nov. 8, I'll be able to focus some energy on that.

Last chance

Don't miss 20% off savings in my shop! The sale ends tonight.

I couldn't be more content as I type this, because napping on my lap is this little baby sweetie:



Her name is Starbuck.

Gertrude, who is not yet a Battlestar Galactica fan, keeps asking what she can call the kitty.

"Starbuck," says Gary. "That's her name."

"Can I call her Ruby?" says Gert.

"No. You can call her Starbuck."

"I think I'll call her Hopscotch," says Gert.

"Um, that's not her name either."

I think she's having a hard time not being the one who named the small furry things in the house.

Matilda, on the other hand, who is ordinarily completely indifferent to the animals (because they're not her boyfriend. She's indifferent to everything that's not her boyfriend) is head over heels in love with the kitten. It's really sweet.

Mmm. Kitty love!

What to do with this?

Gert just announced that she'd tried to hack a classmate's online reading assessment account. She knew his user name, so she tried a few times to figure out his password. She bailed on the attempt when the system alerted her that it was going to notify her teacher that "he" was having difficulty logging in.

She just wanted to take a few reading tests for him to boost his overall score.

At least her little hacker heart is in the right place.

20 Percent Off, right now

This is just between us, okay? I've figured out how to run a sale in my artfire shop and everything is freaking 20% off until Oct. 15! (I'm just kidding. I'm promoting the hell out of it.)

But here's what really is a thing just for my blogger peeps. If you put a note in your order that you heard about the sale on the blog, I'll throw in a free gift. Because I love you and I want you back. ;-)

Cold

It's a fingerless gloves day. Fall reminds me of how much I don't love winter. Sorry. When one has to sit on one's hands just to get the feeling back into one's fingers, that is not a good time.

So I have this yarn that I just unraveled and it has multiple plies per strand that aren't really twisted together. That's how a lot of machine yarns are, they just grab the right number of plies needed to make gauge for the garment and then feed them into the knitting machine. The yarn is still fine for hand knitting, it's just more prone to splits.

I'm considering spinning it by hand to give it a better look and knittability. But that would add time invested, which would raise the price per yard, and it's hard to say if that would pay off.

On the other hand, it would be fun. And if this whole venture fails, it's not like I'm going to let all this yarn go to waste.

I'm so entertained by technology

Is anyone still reading??? It's been so long! Anyway, I'm so happy to be back. It feels like coming back home after a long vacation and everything is weirdly familiar even though nothing is quite where you thought you left it and it has a funky smell to it (which I'm just going to go ahead and blame on the cat).

Check out the fun widget over on the right! It's not only a link to my new artfire shop, you can also (supposedly) buy things just by clicking the little shopping carts. I haven't tested it, but I'm so impressed with it.

I'm entering Month Two since The Firing. You know that "At Will" clause written into everyone's employment contract that everyone knows about but no one really takes seriously because every decent company has a sane policy for hiring and firing employees? And even though a company says they can fire you without any warning or cause no one really believes it because there are procedures in place to protect us from that sort of insanity?

Not if you work for a crazy person.

I'm not going to say anything more about it, except this:

The Sunday before that Tuesday afternoon, when I took Cally to the pool with my laptop so I could get in a few more hours of overtime on the vet bookguide and the Herlihy brochure, Cally was standing in the 4-foot water waving at me to get my attention. I barely glanced up from the screen.

"Mom, watch!" she shouted. "Watch me do flips!"

"I'm watching!" I called, briefly looking up. As soon as she went underwater, I went right back to writing. I didn't see her flip.

And my efforts that weekend all went into a black hole of nothingness, because on Tuesday afternoon, after putting the finishing touches on that brochure, I stepped into a "meeting" to be told I was being terminated.

I want my Sunday back.

The blog is alive!

It's back! Oh blog, I've missed you.

A couple of 2010 predictions

Here's a baby step back into blogging. Everyone's making resolutions or predictions for the coming year. I actually have a few things could say about 2010 that are bound to come true.

1. I will turn 35.
2. I will not finish a single book, but I will start several.
3. I will reach some sort of career-altering breaking point.
4. I will make a great deal of progress toward that elusive inner peace thing.
5. I will promise myself that this is the year I’ll finally take down the ugly wallpaper, of course I’ll never actually do it.

Follow me here!

Hey, until I get back to blogging (which feels like such a commitment! I don't know why) let's hang out on Twitter. It's like a quick cup of coffee as opposed to dinner and a movie.

Good morning, Grandma!

Good morning, Morning Glories
Originally uploaded by squeakyweasels.

When I checked on my garden this morning, I found these!

I thought this vine was a weed, and almost pulled it out a few weeks ago. But I liked the shape of the leaves, so I let it stay.

These morning glories are my Grandma's way of saying hi there, I'm sure of it.

New teen in the house

Sunday I was carded for buying beer, which means at least one person on this earth thought (or pretended to think) that I might be a teenager. And today I have a daughter who is a teenager. That's just weird.

Happy birthday, little baby girl! Your hair is still blonde and your eyes are still blue, but your nose has a handful of freckles that weren't there a few years ago. Your eyes are the same eyes, but now they sparkle with wit and personality.

Maybe I love the weird, but still.

The following are musical elements I always feel unnaturally attracted to:

1. Electric cellos
2. Disco percussion
3. Two-part harmony in a minor key

I’m just saying. It could be a recipe for genius.

TMI

Did you want to know something I bet you didn't want to know? Come on, I know that's why you're here.

For the last 3 or 4 weeks, things haven't been quite right in my intestular region. Let's just say that whatever I eat doesn't stick around for long. In fact, meals have been riding the express bus to Toiletville more often than not.

I know. But I warned you.

So I went to the doctor where they leeched some blood to confirm I wasn't dying, because that's what it starts to feel like after a while. I think my exact words on the phone with the nurse were, "I'm pretty sure I'm dying."

Then the nurse came in with a few vials of various shapes and sizes. "We're going to need you to bring Hank in to get checked out."

"Are you sure that's necessary?" I said. "Because Hank isn't one to make a lot of public appearances."

She assured me that it was necessary, and I left with my assortment of vials.

The next day, with Gert in tow because we were on our way to try on leotards for her new gymnastics class, I swung by the doctor's office to drop Hank off at the front desk.

(And yes, I brought Gert along because I thought maybe I could pretend the whole time that Hank belonged to her. We all know parents are far less shy around Hank when their children are involved.)

I approached the girl at the front desk holding my paper bag, and leaned in to inform her that Hank was here for his check-up.

Gert sort of overheard. "Mom!" she said, in a loud, outraged voice. "You stole a sample?"

"We'll talk about it later!" I hissed at her.

The girl at the front desk looked sort of alarmed, which sort of alarmed me. She said, "Oh, there's no one here to take that!"

"What do you mean?" I said.

"All the people from the lab are gone for the day. I'm sorry!"

I said, "No. Please. Can I pay someone to take this bag? I have $20 in cash..."

Gert said, "Is that the sample you stole?"

Lots of people were looking at us. I exhaled and collected what was left of my dignity, clutching Hank's bag and taking Gert by the hand.

And then we went to try on pink leotards with Hank stuffed in my purse.

Lonely, etc.

Gary's in Chicago for the day (a day that began at 4:30 a.m.) and I've no one to talk to. It's not so much that I have anything really interesting to say, but I like being able to pick up the phone and chat for five minutes for no reason.

Not having those five minutes during the day makes me really aware of everything my job isn't right now.

I'll tell you what it IS... 19 catalogs due to design by Friday. And that makes me want to cry. Or give up.

Uncle, already.

I miss my honey.

Also, I'm not ready for my 12-year-old to walk to the pool by herself to meet another 12-year-old friend there when I'm stuck at work and my honey is in Chicago. That makes me very unpopular with her at this present moment. But sorry. Not today. It's summer, read a book. That's what I wish I were doing.

Crashing! And is that smoke I smell?

On Monday, feeling feverish and snotty, I called in sick to work. I don't remember the last time a virus has actually knocked me on my ass (thank you, vitamin D) but there it was.

I returned to my office and realized that all this time I had been just one day removed from complete chaos. The delicate balance, the bargaining and trading of one deadline for another, it had all been upended by one day at home.

There is too much work to accomplish in the hours I have every day that are free of meetings. And every meeting generates more work. I'm in time debt, speeding toward bankruptcy, with no way out.

At that realization, I was overcome by a state of complete mental paralysis.

I closed my door and spent four minutes indulging in an episode of panic. I know it was four minutes because I looked at the clock. Because it felt like four hours.

I remain hopelessly optimistic

I'm starting to feel like the program I use to balance my accounts is judging me.

When I enter receipts at the end of the week, it's comparing every amount to the routine expenses I've set up in my budget.

When I enter a $36 trip to the grocery store, a little window pops up.

Is this your scheduled $150 weekly grocery expense? It dutifully asks.

Um... No, I click in answer. The little window closes, and I continue entering receipts.

I enter a mid-week $42 trip.

Is THIS your scheduled $150 weekly grocery expense?

It was just mouthwash and toilet paper! And things like coffee creamer and green beans. Okay, and the Oreos. But what was I supposed to do, not have any toilet paper until the end of the week?

No, I click.

Hhhhhhhh, says the window as it closes.

Each time I enter a grocery receipt, the window pops up again. Is this your scheduled expense? How about this one? This one?

Finally, I come to the budgeted expense. A $191.64 total, and I'm feeling pretty pleased with myself that it was under $200.

Yes! I click in answer to the anticipated question. This is it. My scheduled expense!

Another window pops up. Would you like to change your budgeted amount to $191.64? And you should know that I'm only asking because I've observed that you are an impulse-purchasing spendthrift who can't be bothered with sticking to a simple weekly budget.

Of course not, I click.

The program shakes it head silently in grim disapproval.

Won't be the last time, I'm sure

The Easter bunny brought Gert (who loves all things Shiny) several bottles of glittery nail polish and some nail stickers.

Gert gave me a very excellent manicure last night, with silver glitter polish and a blue dragonfly on my right thumbnail.

Gert then gave herself the gold glitter treatment, blowing on each nail to dry her polish. She selected two matching pink butterfly stickers and affixed one butterfly to each of her middle fingers.

She held her hands out with a look of critical admiration, then beamed at me, looking for compliments.

"Fantastic!" I told her. "Show Daddy."

"Hey, Daddy!" Gert called, cheerfully extending both middle fingers to her father.

Here, take my sweater...

P3200003
Originally uploaded by squeakyweasels.


Happy Sweater Day from Matilda, Gertude, and a random neighbor kid!

I highly recommend that you celebrate today by wearing your favorite sweater, remembering the lessons in kindness, joy, courage, and curiosity that Mr. Rogers taught you and your kids, and listening to "The Way That I Am" by Ingrid Michaelson:

Potential Break-Up Blog

I don't ever seem to have time for you. And you're lonely. You feel like the last priority on my list. I get that. I know you're reading other blogs, and I don't blame you. I want you to be happy. I guess the kindest thing to do would be to walk away. But I keep telling myself this is just a temporary thing. Things will calm down and the job will stop being crazy so maybe we can both go back to the way it was. This blog can be good again! I still believe I can make you want to read me. But I know that's just a fantasy. Deep down I know you can't make someone read you. It's not you, it's me. I just can't let go.

This post started out funny, but I think I creeped myself out a little. Now I don't want to look in the mirror because I'm probably watching me.

The weasels are free! (watch your feet)

Since April of last year, the Adopt a Weasel event has generated a respectable number of donations for the MS Foundation from both pattern sales and weasels. If you are among those nice people who contributed, THANK YOU! I really, really do appreciate your generosity.

Now I feel like it's time to set the weasels free.

If you look over to the right under the Free Patterns section, you'll see a link to the PDF for the baby weasel pattern and his larger cousin, the beanie weasel. Both are available through the cool, new Ravelry pattern store, which I hope you can access even if you're not in Ravelry yet. (If you're not, and you can't, just drop me a note in the comments and I'll gladly send you the patterns you need.)

P.S. Update on the TMJ issue... I have dislocated cartilage in one of my jaw joints. So no surgery needed (yay!) but if I ever want to chew food again I need to splint it with a mouthguard that is inexplicably not covered by insurance. Thanks for hanging with me through the drama, and now I promise to stop talking about it. Let's all knit weasels instead!