Wasting My Time in the Waiting Line

So, in a continuation of Thanksgivingy posts, I have to talk about Black Friday. 
Yes, I am one of those people.  I stand in line for bargains with hundreds thousands of people to save $10, maybe $20, on gadgets that will probably be just as cheap in a few weeks.  For me, it is the best part about Thanksgiving.  Being thankful for the year and family and friends, yada yada yada is the point.  I get that in a perfect world, that is the best part of Thanksgiving.  But, in my world, I am thankful for that stuff all year long so I take the Friday after Thanksgiving to elbow people for a Garmin.  My trooper of a husband was so good at sticking to my shopping strategy.  You have to get in, get someone in line immediately while the other people shop.  That is a rookie mistake that many amateur Black Friday shoppers make.  If you have a lot of places to visit, you can't waste time in the line waiting to check out.  This year, at Staples, they had a line wrapping around the store.  We were at the very first corner of the bend in 30 degree weather.  Some guy gets out of his car and hops in line behind us.  After about 5 to 10 minutes of waiting there, he looks at me and says, "What is this line for?"  Yes, he saw a random line and decided to get in it, and eventually got out when he found out there was nothing there for free.  I can say that I have never gotten in a line because I saw one.  I feel like that is something I need to do.  The very next long line I see, I am going to jump in it with an open heart, hoping for something free. 

A Heart Attack, Ack, Ack, Ack, Ack, Ack

Well, I am home today.  I wasn't expecting to be, but I am deathly ill, much like most people on my husband's side of the family.  Someone brought the plague to Thanksgiving, which is the reason I am watching TLC in the middle of the day. 
Can we talk about Thanksgiving?  Well, Mr. Cutthroat and I go to his side of the family in the Midwest for Thanksgiving.  I love the town from which my husband hails.  If it had a place for me to work, I would move there in a heartbeat.  The best part about the town is that every time we go back to his home, there is some kind of fundraising festival taking place.  Thanksgiving is no different.  There was an athletic boosters fundraiser for the high school my husband attended.  This fish fry may have been the single greatest event I have ever been to in my life, and I am including my wedding.  There is a wheel of holes and numbers surrounded by plexiglass.  Then, the cowbell starts ringing.  Then, the mouse comes out.  You bet on which hole the mouse runs into.  That game turned me into a degenerate gambler, one quarter at a time.  I was screaming and heckling and dancing and cheering.  How have I lived this many years without ever betting a quarter on a mouse??  Also, why hasn't this tactic worked its way into other fundraising events?  There is no reason that people wouldn't bet on the mouse for a political event if Bill Clinton was holding the bell!  Oh wait, there is a reason.  The mouse sometimes gets so scared by people yelling and screaming (ie. me) that he has a tiny heart attack! 
Rest In Peace, little barn mouse caught by an Amish kid.  Thanks for winning me 5s of dollars. 

You'd Think I Ought to Be Used to That by Now

"You are starting to look like an alpaca," Mr. Cutthroat pointed out at lunch today. I couldn't argue. In fact, I kind of agree with him. Almost every article of clothing I wear is covered in a layer of beige fiber. This might be an insider trading tip but, I would recommend every reader buy stock in those little lint rollers that are basically backwards masking tape rolls. I go through them constantly. People on the street probably get the impression that I am some crazy cat lady who hoards animals. When they see me on the commute to work, they are probably imagining what my house looks like, thinking that I live like an episode of Hoarders with cats running across my stove and mummified cats under my sofa cushions. My cats are probably annoyed at the extra layer of fur they are carrying around. And, as far as Mr. Cutthroat is concerned, I will keep pulling fiber out of his beard. But, I will not attempt to recard it into the stock.

You Better Beware, and Don't Go There

One piece of advice:  Never Google "hot ass cucumber."

I spent much of my weekend sitting on the couch knitting and spinning while Mr. Cutthroat perused random cooking shows.  I think he is loving all the special orders I have taken in so he isn't forced to travel outdoors, or really even shower.  He was watching the Barefoot Contessa and I was spinning yarn, not really focused on the television, except to make observations here and there.  She was making a "feast" for a dinner with her friends.  And, I say feast in quotes because she make some lamb skewers, spanakopita (or as my mother says Spank-O-Pita), and a Greek salad.  Definitely not a feast.  But, then again, this could be why I am fat.  To others, this might be a feast.  In the midst of her making this "feast," she said that she was going to cube a hot ass cucumber.  I was only half paying attention but, I swear this is what she said.  My husband and I kept rewinding it over and over again.  So, I told my husband to do what ever good American does in this circumstance:  Google it.  We did not find the information for which we were looking.  We did, on the other hand, find a lot of information about people who really, really, really love cucumbers.    There is a whole subset of the population who have cucumber fetishes.  And, even fewer still who have a foot and cucumber fetish.  Yikes!  I am going on record to say that I never want to do anything that I found by Googling hot ass cucumber.  I felt like my innocence was robbed due to the Barefoot Contessa's inability to clearly articulate what kind of cucumber I am supposed to use in a homemade tzatziki sauce.  What a jerk!

Pull This Thread as I Walk Away

I am interested in the next frontier in my knitting:  full scale sweaters.  Up until now, I can make scarves, socks, hats, purses, and jumpers.  But, I have yet to knit an entire sweater.  I know that I possess all of the skills to make it happen, I just haven't been brave enough to try it yet.  My fear is that I throw all that time and energy (and yarn) into a sweater and it turns out looking like Theo Huxtable's Gordon Gartrelle shirt.  (I know the Gordon Gartrelle shirt is such an obscure reference, but if you remember it, this example totally makes sense.)  I am going to start small with sweaters, that much I know for sure.  I was going to start with a baby.  But, there is something more abundant already available in my household:  kitties.  I am going to start small with a no nonsense cardigan for one of my furry frienemies.  Then, once I master that, I am going to move on to children.  I have so much yarn that I have purchased over the years in hopes that someday it would make a cute sweater.  Now is the time to make it happen.  I am declaring 2011 the year of the sweater.  Maybe, just maybe, next year I will have a Christmas card that will have all four members of the Cutthroat Family in matching sweaters.  Code:  I will be buying 4 matching sweaters next year.

Your Cheatin' Heart Will Tell on You

Alec Baldwin is officially in. 
As a confident married couple, there are still those celebrities with whom you find so attractive, you may consider a one time fling.   My husband and I have our respective lists.  His is full of the same old stereotypes like Scarlett Johansson and Christina Hendricks.  Yeah, yeah, I'm really concerned about the remote possibility that Scarlett is walking down the street and she sees my husband and thinks, I'm going for it despite Ryan Reynolds.  I'm sure my husband thinks the same about my prospects.  Now, I have decided to amend my list to include Alec Baldwin.  The tide started turning toward him once he knitted in an episode of 30Rock.  And, it really grew after watching It's Complicated for the 23rd time.  The big decision comes with deciding who to take out.
1.  Chad Ochocinco.  I love a man who can commit to his career with a name change that is utter nonsense, when translated.  Also, have you seen his body?  He stays. 
2.  Clive Owen.  Foreign accent.  He stays. 
3.  Ryan Gosling.  He is very pretty.  But, he did dump Rachael McAdams and I love her almost as much as Taylor Swift. 
4.  Jack Black.  This is a weird crush, and I fully admit that.  He may have to go.
5.  Ryan Dunn.  Of Jackass fame, great beard.  And, I do appreciate a nice beard. 
Sorry, Jack Black, you are out.  I am going with Alec Baldwin. 
Now, to make it official, I need to knit it up into a little swatch.  As a warning:  Scarlett better keep her mitts off of my husband. 

How Ya Livin' Biggie Smallz?

My mom is by far my biggest fan.  Half the battle of starting this yarn shop is gaining the confidence to think what your selling is worthy of being purchased.  Every time I put a new skein or hat or other random knitted item up for sale, she tells me it is the best thing on the internet.  You would swear that my yarn was spun from gold leaves and my knitting was blessed by a thousand baby pandas.  The other night, my mother was looking up stuff on Etsy to compare to my shop.  And, before I say this, I would like to stress that there is a lot of great stuff on Etsy.  So many people are so creative, and their packaging is beyond professional in presentation.  I want to be those sellers.  Hopefully, I will be someday.  But, back to the subject at hand.  My mother called to tell me that she looked at every last item on Etsy and mine was by far the best.  It is good to have such a loyal fan base, even if that fan base doesn't knit and happened to give birth to you.  I am hoping that at some point my fan base will be more extensive than blood relatives, and eventually to those who knit.  Even Notorious B.I.G.'s mother loved his music, and it is quite possible that she wasn't a fan of early 90's rap.  Maybe she was.  I hope I can make Notorious B.I.G. money on yarn someday.  If my kid was making millions off of rap, I would be all about it.  Hell, I have my mom sporting my merchandise now and I don't have Biggie money.  Speaking of which, does the B.I.G. actually spell out something?  I always assumed that it was because he was so fat.  I should have made my company Cutthroat Y.A.R.N., a mysterious acronym that no one can guess.  I should task my mom with coming up with a sweet meaning for Y.A.R.N. 

And Then I Start Some Lyrics

Today, I reached an important milestone in my knitting.
I was knitting all day.  I have gotten some orders and I am working hard to make pretty things.  Spending a federal holiday knitting is way up there in my favorite things list.  But, back to my milestone.  About 3 o'clock today, watching First Wives Club was really boring.  Being on a deadline, I didn't have time for a nap.  So, I just laid down on the couch and knitted .  I would say it is the ultimate in laziness to lay down in the middle of a project, but I kept knitting.  This is probably a reflection of Diane Lane's acting.  I am so happy that I have mastered this skill and it has me wondering what else I could possible do while knitting.  Obviously, anything involving water is out, like showering or swimming.  I might be able to ride a stationary bike.  Some knitters in my area knit on the commute.  Me, I don't particularly enjoy knitting on the commute to work because I feel like every time I step on a train, I am instantly covered in a film of ickiness.  Nothing says "I knitted this with love" like 100 commuters coughing on your work.  Plus, I always have to sit next to someone with large elbows.  The ultimate of the knitting sickness would be if I can nail down knitting and spinning at once.  Making yarn as I use yarn... 

It's Getting Hot in Here

I have been feeling pretty blah lately.  The weather is changing, and my body is in revolt.  I woke up today with a pounding headache, and a last minute call from my husband reminding me of the veterinarian appointment for my youngest furry frienemy.  I threw on an old sweatshirt, baggy jeans (not to brag, but all my jeans are baggy due to the diet), and the cat in the carrier and off we went.  We get to the veterinarian's office and, truth be told, it was nicer than my house.  I waited in the lobby, along with 15 desperate housewives who seemed to have perfectly normal pets.  I got called back with my cat.  And as I sat there, I just wanted to get in, get out and go hit up the people doctor. 
Then, Dr. Handsome McHotpants walked waltzed into my life.  He opened the door and seemed to have floated in on a cloud.  Instantly, I wanted to go back into time to put on some makeup and a halter dress.  Or, at the very least, I wish I would have brushed my hair.  It is hard to be witty and attractive while holding your cat as the hot vet puts a thermometer up your cat's butt.  No, it isn't hard.  It is impossible.  It isn't like I am going to hook up with him, but just because I am married doesn't mean I am dead!  We discussed why my cat has chosen to show how much he hates me by peeing on my side of the bed.  Dr. Hot Vet said that the cat may not like my particular scent.  To which I replied, "So, you are telling me I smell like a litter box?"  It is a good thing I am married, I am terrible in those situations.  I definitely need to get Mr. Cutthroat a veterinarian uniform. 

Where is My Motivation?

In May, I attended the Maryland Sheep and Wool festival, along with every other person east of the Mississippi who has even heard of yarn.  I bought the softest cashmere yarn from a small booth.  Cashmere clothing items aren't cheap, and neither is the yarn.  It is hard for me to believe that cashmere comes from goats.  They are certainly not as cute as sheep, and they certainly don't have personalities like alpacas and rabbits.  But, they somehow fetch huge money for their wool.  Anyway, I started knitting this up with a pattern I doctored up from a stitch pattern in the book Knit and Purl.  (By the way, I highly recommend this book.)  Right away, I started on this scarf and got about a 1/3 of the way through.  Then, I put it down.  That is the death of any project for me.  I get bored with the stitch, I get turned on to something new.  It has been sitting on the needles until last night when I was husbandless and watching Couples Retreat.  I decided to seize the day and get it done.  It took me a good hour to try and figure out the pattern, but I am back on track and it is roughly halfway finished.  I put it down because I lose interest in things that I make for myself.  I only like to keep the items that I royally screw up.  The last scarf I made, I only kept because one of my furry frienemies pulled a thread.  If people judged my knitting skill based on the knitted goods I wear, they would think I am the outlet mall of knitters.  But, with cashmere, it is hard to sell something handmade given the cost of the skein and the time it takes to make it.  So, I will begrudgingly finish this scarf with myself in mind.  If it looks too good to keep, I will put it up on Etsy.  

You're a Sex Bomb

I have always been on the lookout for fun knits.  A knitter can live on scarves alone!  I found a few patterns for some risque knits.  Now, I am not sure how I feel about knitted lingerie, and it is certainly not something you can sell.  But, I think I may try out something small.  Can knits be sexy?  I know the sheer act of knitting doesn't really trip Mr. Cutthroat's trigger, but maybe if I made something that showed a lot of skin, it may turn his whole attitude about knitting around.  Perhaps a bra?  A bra, I can assume, would provide little or no support.  And, it would definitely show under your clothes.  I think that it is more of a novelty knit.  Maybe I can knit up some pasties and take this yarn show to some exotic dancers?  I could start a new craze!  Although, now that I'm starting to think about it, I don't know how pasties even attach.  Are they stickers?  Are they suction cups?  My husband claims he has never seen one in person, but he seems oddly confident they are stickers.  Once again, more topics I need to look into further.

My Friends Say I Should Act My Age

I have had a ton of stuff going on over the past few days.  I am a regular social butterfly, you might say.  But, it definitely is starting to catch up to me.  Today, on the commute home, I found myself sleeping like Big Bird.  My face was basically tucked into my oversized sweater and I may or may not have been snoring like a bird.  Had I been wearing yellow, people may have asked me for my autograph.  Leading up to this, I have been dining out, meeting up with friends, drinking wine.  I am not that person.  I am usually pretty lame in that I watch a lot of Kardashians and knit.  Lately with the success diet, I feel like I have the energy to do everything and wake up early for work.  It's amazing what a few fruits and vegetables will do.  Embracing this, I am going to test the absolute limits of what my body can withstand--much like college.   I need to start acting like I am in my late 20's and not my early 80's.  I may need to amend this to say, that I will go out and be social like I am in my late 20's, but I will vow to always carry my knitting with me like I am in my 80's.