Camel Fleas

 

This happened to me today:

 

 

 

I go outside to get my son off of the bus from a half-day of school.  A shitbox car pulls up behind the bus.  I'm navigating my way over a plow pile at the end of my drive and this douche bag honks his horn at me.  Seriously?

Generally, I do not curse in front of my children.  Especially my five year old.  He's both autistic and a wonderful mimic.  As the passenger MANUALLY ROLLS DOWN HER WINDOW and screams at me to 'hurry the f**k up you stupid c**t!!'  I forgot my usual rule.

The bus driver put the bus in park and gets out with her phone already recording.  I went to the driver's side and she went to the passenger's side.  I pulled out my phone and hit 'record' while the aide on the bus has stepped out to do the same.

I asked the lovely moron behind the wheel if he had anything else to say...?  This dumb ass screams his reply, "I know where you live, bitch!!"  And then a really long and colorful description of EXACTLY  how he'll kill me ensues.  I asked him, "Why waste time?  Get your bitch ass out of the car right now and I'll beat you stupid in front of your ugly woman."  At this point, the woman went to jump out of the car and the bus driver smashed the door back into her and snatched her head full of greazy hair right through the window.  Douche bag put his car in reverse and hit the gas with his woman's hair still in the driver's hand.

Twenty minutes ago, a cop showed up at my door.  I showed him the video I took and the videos that the others sent to me.  He just shook his head and said "Douche bag about covers it, huh, ma'am?"

Gotta love life in NY.

I'm going to knit now - I need a little bit of ZEN.

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9 comments

1:59 PM

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People are sooo inconsiderate in every possible situation. I'm sure that wherever they were going was sooo much more important than you safely retrieving your son from the bus. ‹headdesk› #ohthehumanity  

2:02 PM

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I think you deserve a drink! Thank goodness you thought to record it.
Will you be pressing charges for death threats? Maybe get a restraining order? In that way he can't go down your road again

2:04 PM

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Big hug +Dori ONeal 

2:07 PM

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hugs!!  Definitely need some zen knitting.  Some people....

 

2:07 PM

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Omfg! I'm glad you recorded it all. YouTube! Jesus. Please have a drink and a knit. Man Oh man. 

2:15 PM

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That's ridiculous! 

2:16 PM

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I try to sympathize most of the time. Circumstances may have been terrible for them. But sometimes there is just NO EXCUSE. AT ALL. Holy wow.

Dori ONeal

2:22 PM

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You're right.  I know my description of this couple is significantly less than flattering, or even unbiased.  I try not to wish ugly on people because I don't want ugly back.  But, I would love it if he came down with an enormous infestation of camel fleas on his junk.  Not lethal, just karmic. 

Surrounded By Muggles In The Wizarding World Of Fiber

This evening was the live broadcast of Stephen & Steven Mixed Tape Tour...loved it!  They are the professors in the wizarding world of fiber arts.  The textures and color matching that they come up with is nothing short of splendifferous!  Magical!  Delectably scrumptious!  It is a good thing that fiber is not ice cream; you would have to roll me out the door like Violet everyday.  But in listening to them both, it did remind me of how small the fiber community really is.  Not just knit and crochet junkies, but spinners and weavers and dyers.

I was at the doctor's office earlier today and brought my knitting.  I check-in, sit down, and start knitting.  Every time I do that you'd think I had four heads and tentacles coming out of my ass.  Is it really necessary for, "Look at that woman over there.  What is she doing?  Should we be worried?" while you are elbowing someone in their ribs and pointing with your muggle finger?  I've actually had someone ask me to stop knitting because they found it offensive.  Seriously?  I find it highly offensive that you actually leave the house and punish society with your presence but I at least have the decency to let you be as some things just can't be fixed.  So I just warmly smiled, plainly and calmly said "Bite me" and proceeded with my knitting.

But then you do have people who are just curious and ask questions.  I love it when a kid comes up and is all starry eyed with wonder.  That is awesome.  That gives me hope that not all muggles are ignorant knuckle dragging primates, just the direct descendants of the Dursleys.

Rather than learning Klingon, I think my next response to a feces flinging howler monkey will be to recite a pattern.

  

But again, I do have hope.  Knit and crochet fashion is coming back.  I recently received my copy of Harper's Bazaar and saw knit items.  I cringed while turning pages at times seeing that God awful 70's pants suit is making a comeback.  With the pukey colors in grotesque patterns too.  I've survived that already, I'm not sure I can do it again.  But there was a lot of inspiration in those pages too. Wonderful texture and vibrant colors paired with subtle earth tones.

Big Thank You to West & Be for their time today!  As well as Yarn Mountain and Patrick Lyddy! (And I love the name of their tour.  I remember my aluminum foil antenna on our little radio that when you heard your fave song on the station, you had to hurry up and press record/play at the same time, remain absolutely quiet and hope that damn dj wouldn't screw up the song by talking at the beginning or end)

And to all my fellow wizard folk who perform magic with sticks and string... 

I sooo need to find me one of these!

2015 - The Year of the Stash Bust

If you're an avid crafter - of just about any type of craft - then, you'll know all about the STASH.  Your stash is all of your supplies - all the little (and big) things you've collected over time that aid you in your craft.

For those of us that love the fiber arts - your stash can often grow to be more than just your essential supplies.  To be fair, I only need a single pair of knitting needles, or a single hook to knit or crochet at will.  As long as there's some string around - I can make something.  But, I don't have just a single set of needles - or a single hook and a single ball of string.  Instead, I have lots and lots and lots of each.

Because I've got sooooo much fiber, in all those lovely colors and types and weights, it means that I'm utilizing quite a bit of space to store them.  As I can only work on one project at a time - that means that there's an awful lot of pretty string around here waiting it's turn to be transformed into something fabulous.

So, in an effort to get to each of those lovely colors and fibers in turn, I've made a resolution for the year of 2015:  I will not purchase a single skein of dyed yarn.  (it hurts a little bit to even type that...)

If I have a project that is just screaming to be made, and I don't have a color that is jumping for joy because IT gets to be that fabulous project - then I will just have to dye my own fiber to suit the project in question.  If that doesn't work, I'll have to move on to another project that's screaming for a turn - there are plenty. :)

This means that for the entire year of 2015, I will be working 90% of the time from yarn that I already have and maybe 10% of the time from yarn that I will dye on a project-specific basis.  There is only one exception to this rule of the 2015 Stash Bust - the WEBS Tent Sale.  For the Tent Sale, all bets are off.  I'm trying to be a good girl, but, let's not get ridiculous here.

In any event, it's now the 17th of January, 2015 and I haven't purchased a single, little tiny piece of beautifully colored string - not a single skein, hank or cake of yarn has been brought into the house by me.  (My lovely, amazing, completely ROCKING sister sent me some beautiful yarns and that is going to have to hold me over until the Tent Sale.  THANK YOU, KAREN!!!!)

We'll see if I can keep to this Resolution.  I'm at about a 50/50 split right now - half of me really wants to do this Stash Bust and the other half of me is ready to go surfing and see just what is on sale at Knit Picks right now...

Must, resist the pretty...

Never Lose Your Sense of Humor

In reading my sister's prior post, which we were total Daddy's Girls, it brought up memories of winter time when we were kids.  We lived exactly one mile from our elementary school.  According to the school board, we lived on the wrong side of the street to get bussed to school.  We grew up on a corner and a very busy one at that.  So Dori and I had to walk to school and it was uphill, both ways.  I remember walking to school and having to say this to my teacher:

I looked like Randy from "A Christmas Story".  I did fall in a huge pile of snow once, measurable by the foot, and could not move.  I was stuck.  For real.  It was a Laurel and Hardy routine when Dori had to come pull me up.  We were in elementary school for Pete's sake.  Think we are tiny now? Thumbelina was a giant compared to us but we made it through each year.  But that wasn't as funny when we would jump off the little league dugouts into the super deep snow.  Oh wait...that's right...I didn't jump...my sister flung me off into the snow, face first.  Isn't childhood grand?  Especially when you're the youngest sibling and your older sibling is forced to take care of you?  Actually, I was a stinker for a sister and deserved several of the whompings I received.  That instance, however, not so much.

But through the years of living in the north, it becomes an "Eh, whatever" with winter.  So many a time I find myself rolling in laughter at those who live down south who only see snow when watching "It's A Wonderful Life".  Shut down an entire city for a dusting that melts within hours.  Funny stuff.  

It's even funnier when you see someone from the south driving up here in the winter for the first time, as long as you are not on the road with them.  But the funniest isn't the driving, it's when you have to get out of your car and walk across what you just barely traversed in your vehicle.  Grown men crab walking on their tiptoes to make it to the front door, priceless.  But even those who are old hats in driving during the winter are void of all sense of reason sometimes.

But there are ways of knowing who grew up in the north and who are transplants.  I hate the winter, this is more than true, but having been through soo many, you know how to prepare and roll with the punches.  For example, a new northerner...

Lifelong northerner would be stocked to the eyeballs by mid-August

We get a ton of those here in the Chicago area.  Stocked up on salt by mid-July.  I've had it snow on my birthday and leave a foot.  I was born in mid-April, my husband late April, still snowing.

Grilling happens all year around, period.  Shovel a path to the grill if needs be.  The choice of food to be grilled may vary slightly from above, but the thought has run through many minds.  Sorry Phil.

But through it all, one must never lose their sense of humor.  Winter can be lots of fun and it's a blast watching the kids go sledding, snowboarding, fort-building-trash-talking-snowball-fights, making igloos/dugouts from the 9-10 foot tall snowdrifts, snow angels, and the classic snowman. Growing up, we loved reading Calvin & Hobbes.  Love Calvin.  Here's a homage to the little boy that makes us remember how cool it really was being a kid.

And to those who haven't lost their sense of humor in adulthood, you rock.  We have a lot of front yardage, I think we can come up with something good...

Snowman on snowman violence...why can't we all just get along?

Frosty my ass...wwhoooo-aaahhhh

I wonder if this is Gulliver's twin in a parallel dimension

Henry didn't quite catch on as to what would happen if he lost the bet with Barry and Wendall

Answers that question

Being a major fan of Halo, this is nothing short of kick-ass

My all time favorite land animal

But no matter what you do to pass the time during the snow laden winters, always remember to never lose your sense of humor.  And always have a good stock of alcohol.

Daddy's Girl

Even though this post is completely going to date me (and poor Karen, too), I'm going to plow ahead anyway.  I'm a child of the 70's.  Born in 1971 (which puts me at 44), I graduated high school in 1990.  Go, Bulldogs!!

I wasn't lucky enough to have hippy-dippy parents, though.  Nope, no wandering the countryside with stoned-out loons for this kid.  (And by the time Karen came along, in 1976, things were rolling into the 80's and the hippy-dippy-parent dream was dead.)  Our dad was a chef.  A chef who combat-served with the 82nd Airborne, and more** in Vietnam.  All my life, I remember people coming up to Dad - really, really excited - and begging for his autograph.  Everywhere we went they thought he was Jerry Garcia.  No matter how he changed his look - the requests would come.  Eventually, he gave up trying to explain that he was not the famed Garcia and instead just gave them his autograph.  His OWN, that is.  Lots and lots of people walked away with a quickly scrawled, 'all the best, Dan the Man'.  Seriously used to crack us up to no end.  But, as he was a Dead fan, I don't think he actually minded much. ;p

I've been thinking quite a lot about my Dad lately.  Having grown up a tried-and-true Daddy's Girl, I truly enjoy watching the same bond between my daughters and husband.  All three of my girls are Daddy's Girls.  They truly adore that man.  So, I just wanted to take a moment to acknowledge all the Dads out there and all the Daddy's Girls.  Love him lots while you have him, girls, and be sure to pick a man that will adore YOUR baby girls just as much.  I did and it's a blessing.

Thanks, Daddy. I love you!


**our dad spent time in Special Forces - he entered a PVT, left a PVT and his jacket only states TDY for the entire time in-between with no destination or designation assigned**

What To Do In The Middle Of A Blizzard....BINGO!!

One of the things that a person must do when they live in the north is have a backup plan for everyday in the winter.  The weather can shift in an instant and any plans that you had for the day could totally explode in your face.  For example, when I went to bed last night it was 45°+ with dense fog and a very light mist.  I drove with the windows open at 7 o'clock last night to pick up pizza and wings for the fam - yup - totally punked out on making dinner.  I woke up this morning inside a snow globe.  It is currently 20° outside and the temperature is dropping.  We will get roughly 8" before the evening is over.  And because I live in a rural farming area, there are not a lot of trees so the wind is insane around here.  Yay.

I had planned today on going to the grocery store, post office and my local yarn shop.  So, yeah.  We instead will be taking down the Christmas tree and I will be playing Bingo.  And knitting of course. That never stops, no matter the weather.  I could be lounging on the beach with a Mai Tai, garnished with a lil' umbrella, the palms listing gently in the soothing tropical breezes as the ocean waves playfully lap along the untarnished white sands, littered with tiny unique seashells that have made an amazing journey throughout the seas, and I, hoping they would share their stories of what they have seen and experienced.  But I would be swearing at the pattern that I am trying to hammer out and failing at an epic rate.  It's messed up I know, but hey, at least I would have alcohol.

I do miss playing Bingo at a local Moose Lodge, church, or rec center.  I play Bingo Blitz for free on my tablet. It's fun and cool but it lacks the little old lady surrounded by her multitude of trolls, 6 different colored ink blotters and her worry stone she rubs the entire time she's playing, all the while greatly impressing me that she has 24+ squares in front of her and I'm struggling to keep up with 8 squares.  I once had a lady who was sitting next to me blotting my numbers as I was falling behind while she had stamped all of hers, had a sip of coffee, crocheted a dishcloth, washed her car and fed her cat.  But that instant where you get to yell "BINGO!" and have every eye land on you, wishing they could shoot laser beams through your skull is awesome!  Unless you are the one wanting to shoot the laser beams.  Especially with a big pot; they can reach into the thousands.  You're a liar if the thought doesn't flash through your mind of knocking out an old lady in the parking lot.  I call liar, liar, pants on fire.  And don't forget the knee high pile of pull tab cards...

So to all of those on a beach right now, I really don't like you.  I am stuck in the house with two top-of-the-line weirdos cheering on the snow, screaming "More! More! More!"  At least I would have alcohol with my knitting on the beach.  OH!  Wait!  I think I have some Smirnoff left!  Gots ta go! Hafta take my anti-weirdo liquid medicine!  BINGO!