There are now 43 people signed up for the Peace Project! Woot!
My cold is doing a little better. I managed to get some medicine from the Farmacia near the apartment, and it is working wonders. I’m 80% human today, rather than the 50% or less that I have been lately.
I think I may spend too much time reading Crazy Aunt Purl. Last night I had a dream I was knitting one of her berets, and it got to be enormous and took over the world. Mutant country eating berets!
This weekend has been quiet, between Cho going off to Venice for Carnival, me being sick, and Alice and I being stuck indoors by rain. Most of my time has been spent knitting. I’m almost done with the back of my turkish rib tank. I’m just about ready to start on the straps. I can’t decide if I want to do a provisional cast off and then graft on the straps, or if I want to knit the straps on each side and then sew them together in the middle.
I need a project to do once I finish the tank, though. I’m going to have about six extra balls of cotton yarn, four in a pale sky blue and two in a more grey-blue. I thought about making myself a skirt, but I’m going to be sewing one at some point. I just need a project I can take with me to my various classes to keep my hands busy. And also to keep myself from strangling people, like when my art history prof says “loov-ray” rather than “Louvre,” or when I have to sit through three hours of bad poetry written by preppy Bostonians. I have nothing against Boston or Jersy or NYC, but I do have a problem with the millions of stuck up little Wheaton girls we have roaming our halls, looking down on gritty fantasy writers, and sticking up their noses at us mid-western girls who don’t own a designer anything. All of them write bad poetry about drugs, clubbing, and sex, and don’t like prose because it isn’t “creative” enough. I’m sorry, but I actually LIKE making sense and following a few loose rules of grammer.
Okay. Enough ranting. You can see now why I have the icon I do, even though I’m promoting peace around here. I am not perfect. There are people I don’t like. But when I do dislike a person, it’s for their actions or their attitudes, rather than their polical or religious leaning. I don’t want them dead, I just daydream about strangling them and maybe pushing them them down the circular staircase in the Design Studio. There is a difference.