So I've been working on the same craft project since I don't even remember when. I got it from my Grandmas' spare craft kit because I forgot to bring a project. I was still alive and pretty healthy, and she died in 2003 from cancer. Anyways - its this really lovely counted cross-stich afghan with daisies and tulips and little pink budsy things.
I know I was working on it in 2000 because my friend Danielle came to visit me and surprised me with the news that she had gotten married to her boyfriend (we don't talk about him). Being a recent graduate and pretty poor - I decided that I would finish it for her as a wedding present.
So here is what happens. I work on it, lose the instructions, find the instructions, work on it, move and lose the thread, months later find the thread but working on something else, pull it out, work on it, lose the instructions again, Etc. Etc. Etc. At this point - the instructions for this poor thing are FALLING apart and folded in a bazillion weird pieces.
And since I declared that I would give it to Danielle, I have had to change it from being a wedding gift to a divorce gift (Yay! and that's not a sarcastic yay) to a 30th birthday gift to a Finishing Business School gift. It was at the boyfriend's house when he died and his parents ended up giving it back to me and I dumped it in the pile with all the other things they returned back to me that I couldn't bare to look at.
Well, I discovered it a couple of weeks ago. And somehow there is now a stain from the bag it was stored in (hopefully it will wash out). And I have a lot of outlining to do, but I am forcing myself to finish it this year. Currently I have stuck it in my work bag and basically I work on it on my morning and afternoon bus rides (because its way more productive than playing stupid games on my cell). And Danielle will still get it when I'm done- stains and all (if the stupid dye stays in). But this time it will be a "See I told you I would finish it" gift.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
The Thrill of slugging
This morning I missed my regular bus by about a block. I stepped out of my house, and the bus was passing my stop which was a block up. Never mind that I was leaving the house at the regular time and the bus usually comes by about 10-15 minutes later. But we never have a regular driver so there is some irrgularity to the schedule.
Anyways - so instead of waiting for the next bus to come by (which was in another hour and would make me WAY late for work - something you don't want to do after your boss tells you that she would like to promote you soon) - I hiked a mile to the bus stop on the nearest major road. I have to add that this morning I decided to forgo the regular tennies and put on my slightly painful pumps. While it was painful to walk that mile, at least my feet looked cute doing it.
Of course I missed a bus there by like 2 minutes and had to wait another 15 minutes for the next one. There were two other ladies waiting with me. So here comes the main point of this entry. We had been waiting for about 5 minutes when a woman pulled over and asked if anybody needed a ride to the pentagon. This is known as slugging here. Or you could also think of it as reverse hitchhiking. The driver needs two additional people so they can take the HOV lane. The riders - well, we would get to where we want once the bus came so its not really the rider who is holding out the thumb. Anyways - 1 lady climbed in, the other deferred, so I took the back seat.
I've slugged a couple of times in the past couple of years and the truth is you never know who you are going to be riding with. One time I got in a car with some ladies who wouldn't speak in English once I got in the car but were listening to Uber Christian sermons on tape. Another time I rode with a guy who teaches ESL to university level students who are attending universities in the area. This time the woman was really nice, and had a tendency to flip between the local news radio and NPR.
Slugging is nice because you don't have to wait for anymore bus stops, nor do you have to pay. But I have to admit that there is always that tiny bit of apprehension as you are getting into the car. For a split second I always ask myself, "Am I getting into a car with a total loony?" And then you have to shove that thought back because you've made the decision and have to stick with it so that you aren't late to work. When a rider picks up multiple people it does ease the worry because you know that you aren't the only one stupid enough to get in a strangers car*.
Anyways, today's ride was pretty pleasant. The driver was even kind enough to drop us off in the city instead of the regular drop off (mostly because the police had ropped that area off due to a "Strange Vehicle"). But I will tell you that tomorrow I am going to make sure that I get out for the bus early.
* I have made it a rule not to get into vans of any kind. There's just something really sketch about that.
Anyways - so instead of waiting for the next bus to come by (which was in another hour and would make me WAY late for work - something you don't want to do after your boss tells you that she would like to promote you soon) - I hiked a mile to the bus stop on the nearest major road. I have to add that this morning I decided to forgo the regular tennies and put on my slightly painful pumps. While it was painful to walk that mile, at least my feet looked cute doing it.
Of course I missed a bus there by like 2 minutes and had to wait another 15 minutes for the next one. There were two other ladies waiting with me. So here comes the main point of this entry. We had been waiting for about 5 minutes when a woman pulled over and asked if anybody needed a ride to the pentagon. This is known as slugging here. Or you could also think of it as reverse hitchhiking. The driver needs two additional people so they can take the HOV lane. The riders - well, we would get to where we want once the bus came so its not really the rider who is holding out the thumb. Anyways - 1 lady climbed in, the other deferred, so I took the back seat.
I've slugged a couple of times in the past couple of years and the truth is you never know who you are going to be riding with. One time I got in a car with some ladies who wouldn't speak in English once I got in the car but were listening to Uber Christian sermons on tape. Another time I rode with a guy who teaches ESL to university level students who are attending universities in the area. This time the woman was really nice, and had a tendency to flip between the local news radio and NPR.
Slugging is nice because you don't have to wait for anymore bus stops, nor do you have to pay. But I have to admit that there is always that tiny bit of apprehension as you are getting into the car. For a split second I always ask myself, "Am I getting into a car with a total loony?" And then you have to shove that thought back because you've made the decision and have to stick with it so that you aren't late to work. When a rider picks up multiple people it does ease the worry because you know that you aren't the only one stupid enough to get in a strangers car*.
Anyways, today's ride was pretty pleasant. The driver was even kind enough to drop us off in the city instead of the regular drop off (mostly because the police had ropped that area off due to a "Strange Vehicle"). But I will tell you that tomorrow I am going to make sure that I get out for the bus early.
* I have made it a rule not to get into vans of any kind. There's just something really sketch about that.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Why being a gidow sucks
When Chris died one of my friends said to me, "You are actually pretty lucky. Since you guys were only dating and not living with each other, it's not like you have to find a new place to live or find a new job or something."
And yes, I did not have to deal with trying to find a new apartment, or with settling out his accounts, or like a bazillion other technical things. His parents got left with that.
What I did lose was my sense of a future. I had begun in my mind building the future that we were going to have. It was a very quiet thing that I didn't really share with anybody, not even him. But when he died - that all went away. It can never happen. And it makes it hard to just look in the future in general because you know how easy it is that it can be taken away and so you just stop dreaming.
Like when I have to put my long term goals down at work. It's pretty much - don't get fired. Other than that - it really doesn't matter.
At least with kids - I would have to hold on to the fact that they would have a future.
So this is why being a gidow sucks.
And yes, I did not have to deal with trying to find a new apartment, or with settling out his accounts, or like a bazillion other technical things. His parents got left with that.
What I did lose was my sense of a future. I had begun in my mind building the future that we were going to have. It was a very quiet thing that I didn't really share with anybody, not even him. But when he died - that all went away. It can never happen. And it makes it hard to just look in the future in general because you know how easy it is that it can be taken away and so you just stop dreaming.
Like when I have to put my long term goals down at work. It's pretty much - don't get fired. Other than that - it really doesn't matter.
At least with kids - I would have to hold on to the fact that they would have a future.
So this is why being a gidow sucks.
A change
I used to have a blog. Just me rambling on about whatever. It was on myspace and it was good. Then I got out of the habit because I started dating someone who was private and I didn't want to post anything he wouldn't feel comfortable with. And when he died, I thought I could go back, but I couldn't - because all of a sudden myspace had turned into a meat market and you couldn't turn left or right without some guy contributing a lame pick up line. And the truth is grieving really doesn't make one receptive to pick up lines.
Anyways - so I created this blog to write about losing weight - which was really great until I started gaining the weight back with depression.
And one of the things I realized is that I really miss having that one forum where I can write whatever I want. Whether it is about what I'm eating or exercising, or how I'm feeling, or even how scared I am that Chuck may not be on next season. So from now on - the Sassy Strutter is no holds bar.
Anyways - so I created this blog to write about losing weight - which was really great until I started gaining the weight back with depression.
And one of the things I realized is that I really miss having that one forum where I can write whatever I want. Whether it is about what I'm eating or exercising, or how I'm feeling, or even how scared I am that Chuck may not be on next season. So from now on - the Sassy Strutter is no holds bar.
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