Logic is My Kryptonite

story: The Perfect Marriage

2011-09-18T09:39:00.000-07:00

Title: The Perfect Marriage
Category: Character Study (sort of), Romance (sort of)
Rating: G
Word Count: ~150
Summary: Written because I was wondering what a 'perfect marriage' would be. You can decide if I mean it earnestly or not.

I see him at breakfast.

We sit together in the early morning hours, he on his side of the table and me on mine. We drink tea together, sometimes coffee, and watch the sunlight through the window. We eat toast with jam and fresh fruit.

We speak to each other quietly. He tells me his business and I tell him mine. We decide to buy this piece of furniture, call that plumber. We pay the bills in soft words.

Afterward we clear up, putting everything in its proper place. The dishes are gleaming in their cabinets and we lean over the kitchen counter to give each other soft kisses on the cheek. He smiles at me. I smile back.

He pulls on his jacket, pats my hand, and leaves the kitchen. He goes to his job and I go to mine. I will not see him for the rest of the day.

story: Better in the End

2011-09-17T13:04:00.000-07:00

Title: Better in the End
Category: Fairy Tale, Humor, Happy Ending
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~800
Summary: The ending of the Cinderella story, rewritten. What if the shoe had fit one of Cinderella's stepsisters?

Prince Charming looked up at her, his beautiful blue eyes shining with happiness. He stood swiftly and swept her up into his arms, spinning her around.

"It's you! I'm so glad I found you!" he cried, fairly glowing with delight. The girl laughed and smiled, sharing in his joy. The shoe had fit. The new princess was found.

"But..." said Ella. She still stood in the back of the room, unseen by its happy occupants. Her stepmother gloated, Josephine beamed, and Carmen smiled a sickly jealous smile. The prince and his steward were entirely focused on Josephine, with hardly a care for the servant girl in the corner.

But that's supposed to be me, she wanted to say. But... he was supposed to be mine.

Things moved quickly then, while she stood shell shocked and frozen. The prince gathered up his new bride and her family. He met her eyes once, and he stared right through her. There was no soul-deep recognition, none of the gentle charm from last night. Just the Prince instantly dismissing Cinders, the scullery maid.

Ah. So that was how it was.

Fine then.

Ella waited until everyone was gone, until the royal servants had come and left with her step-family's belongings. Then she retreated to her kitchen, and called her fairy godmother. Godmother shimmered into being and smiled pleasantly at her charge.

"He didn't pick me. You set me up with a complete and utter idiot!" Ella shouted, clenching her fists and glaring at the woman in front of her.

"Did I, dear? I don't recall setting you up with anyone," said the woman, smiling brightly. She always smiled. It made Ella nervous.

"It's what I wished for," Ella said, crossing her arms and frowning.

"No, dear. I have your wishes right here," Godmother said, pulling a pink piece of paper out of thin air. "Item one, an invitation to the ball. Check. Item two, proper clothes and conveyance to the ball. Check. Item 3, someone to love you forever. Still in progress."

"Oh," said Ella, deflating. "I see. Still... still in progress?"

"No need to sound so sad. Think for a bit, dear. It'll come to you," said Godmother, then promptly poofed out of the room.

Think about it. Right. Stupid sparkly nitwit.

__________

The next day, Ella's stepmother came to visit. She arrived in a sumptuous carriage, wearing her best dress and most contemptuous expression. She sniffed at the house and Ella's tattered gown, and refused to sit down.

"Obviously, my daughters and I have been elevated to much better accommodations. We have no use for this... house any longer," she said. Ella ground her teeth – the way Judith said 'house,' she might as well have said 'hovel.' Judith saw the expression on Ella's face and smirked. "In any case, I have chosen, out of the goodness of my heart, to leave it to you, according to your father's wishes. Use it as a sort of remembrance for the kind of man your father was... And all the things he couldn't give you."

With that, Judith swept out and back into her carriage. Ella waited a moment, then strode into her kitchen. She took a deep breath, then screamed, long and loud. Ella's father was a wonderful man, who gave her everything she ever needed. Food, clothing, thiswonderful house, and all the love in the world. Ella's father did better in the short time she had him than Judith could ever hope to do in her daughters' entire lifetimes. Hell, even Ella could do better than her. She'd shower the children in love, and they'd never be neglected or forgotten...

Oh. That's an idea. Ella grinned.

Ella clapped her hands, and when the glitter-bedecked woman appeared, she said,

"Godmother? I've thought about it. We have some work to do."

__________

Ella converted the house into her Home for Children, with help from her godmother. Around twelve children live there, while dozens more visit constantly. Word among the younger set is, Miss Ella makes the best treats, and her friend the sparkly lady tells the best stories, and every child is welcome. Ella still cooks and cleans all day. She doesn't mind so much now.

She is surrounded by love, and that's exactly what she wished for.

__________

Thank you for reading. I would love to hear from you

The Universe is Trying to Kill Me

2011-07-17T15:26:00.000-07:00

I know what you're thinking.

“Haha,” you think, “Kira is making another 'funny joke.' The universe is trying to kill her. How droll.”

No. I'm fucking serious.

I don't know what I did in a former life to deserve it, but I swear to Spock that someone or something has a grudge and is trying to kill me.

Reasons that I know this:

Every time my friend tosses something to me, in inevitably hits me in the face.
I'm allergic to everything. Okay, not everything, but all those things normal people take for granted? No can has.
1. Wheat? I'm gluten sensitive.
2. Dairy? I'm lactose intolerant.
3. Grass? Allergic.
4. Certain soaps? I'm allergic to at least two, that I know of.
5. Pets? The dander makes my eyes itch.
6. Nature? I live in terror of pollen. It makes me cry. Literally.
7. Nickel? Gives me hives. And did you know that nickel is in practically every piece of jewelry ever? It is.
I fall down stairs. A lot.
I fall up stairs. A lot.
I have three younger siblings. If that's not revenge of some sort, I'll eat my pants.

Damning evidence in my favor, isn't it?

“But... Kira,” you say, “Couldn't this all be explained by heredity, happenstance, and your own clumsiness?”

God, you're such a smartass. And sure. Maybe it's all just a coincidence, trumped up by my own ego and paranoia.

But then how do you explain THIS LETTER?!

Dear Kira,

I hate you. I'm going to make you die.

Love,

The Universe

I rest my case.

Review: The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

2011-06-09T22:54:00.000-07:00

Review: in which I whine like a little girl about a very naughty book

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

by Stieg Larsson

2/5 stars.

I did not like this book.

I found it interesting. And I couldn't let it go. I finished it, which I suppose is some sort of victory for the author.

But let me make this absolutely clear: the only reason I finished this book is because I am a very, very stubborn girl. Once I start a book, I have to finish it. Because, you see, I can't let it win. I know it's not particularly well-reasoned, and that really I'm only torturing myself (and the people I bitch to about the books), but it's the way I am. That's not the point, though.

The point is that I hated this book. I had a bloody, knock-down, drag-out fight with this book for six months because I just could not let it go. I couldn't let it win.

And here is the fruit of my labor.

The short, spoiler-free version:

Things you should know about GwtDT:

1.Stylistically speaking, the writing is superb. The prose is obviously well thought out and put together well.

2.As may be expected of a crime novel, certain events that many find triggering were described in stark detail.

2.The characterization is quite good, and I was left feeling that each and every character, even minor ones, were actual people I could run into in the street.

Things that frustrated me:

1.The writing is quite dense.

2.The book is stupidly long, for no reason that I can fathom. The first third of the book could, and should have been condensed into a fraction of what it was.

3.The pacing upset me. The first half nearly put me to sleep. The next quarter was halfway interesting. The next sixth was heart-pounding and riveting. The last part of the book was back to merely being halfway interesting. Why couldn't the entire book be riveting?!

4.There are quite a few cultural references that I suspect only Swedish citizens would understand. I had to look up the dollar to kronor exchange rate so that I could understand monetary references.

5.The ending is shit. At least it is, character-wise. I can't tell you why without spoilers, but I can tell you unequivocally that I hated it.

And now for the spoilery bits.

Mikael Blomkvist. I hate him. He has a relationship with his best friend, Erika, that is basically friends-with-benefits. He describes himself as not being able to stay away from her, even after she got married. Fine. Whatever. I think that's bullshit, but I suppose I can accept that. Then he gets married. ...Fine. The wife knew what she was getting into, in regards to Erika, and decided to marry him anyway. Okay. Then they had a daughter. Then Mikael continued to cheat on his wife with Erika, and his wife realized that no, she actually couldn't deal with it, and divorced him. I understand that too.

From that point on, he becomes basically uninvolved in his daughter's life. He only visits sporadically, and doesn't devote any time to getting to know his daughter and keeping up with her life. He gives no good reason for this besides slight shame, apathy, and what I think is laziness. This is when I realized that I hate Mikael Blomkvist, and it was within the first fifty pages of a six-hundred-page book. First of all, you don't bring a kid into the kind of fucked-up relationship he has with women. Second, I refuse to allow him any leeway in the effective abandonment of his only child. He was a successful journalist and half-decent human being for most of her childhood; he had the means and opportunity to do better. He should have been there. No excuses.

Lisbeth Salander. I love her. She's the only thing that made this book tolerable for me. She has cool tattoos and piercings, is sarcastic and antisocial, and a tech-literate bisexual. Also she has a motorcycle. I liked her instantly. I found her character multi-layered, complex, and immensely interesting (as opposed to Mikael, who I thought rather shallow). I liked reading about her reactions and choices.

I was extremely incensed by something the author did to her, particularly because of the context. You see, Lisbeth is brutally raped. Perhaps I could have accepted this event as a necessity of exploring and growing her character. But. Remember how I told you how Mikael just can't keep his hands off women? Well, within twenty pages of Lisbeth's rape, Mikael gains a new amour. This upset me. Throughout the novel, Mikael remains a static and frustrating character who enjoys success and overall good luck. This event, in this context within the novel, made me feel as if perhaps Mikael is only a thinly-veiled stand-in for the author, so that Larsson could live out a charmed and interesting life through his character. It made me question his attitude towards women. It made me dislike this book, and Mikael, even more.

As I said before, I found the first half of the book unforgivably boring. The plot crawls at a snail's pace and at times seems nearly dead. Nothing interesting happens. There's a great deal of financial journalism and Swedish politics, but all that did was serve to irritate me. Nothing that was important to the plot and character development could not have been written in a third of the first half. I found a fraction of the book honestly attention-grabbing and adrenaline-inducing, the way I expect a crime novel to be. The quality of prose in no way makes up for this.

The tone the author took during the novel was surprisingly apathetic, especially for a crime novel. I never felt real emotion in the language, except in the climax, and that was, again, but a fraction of the entire novel. I found that frustrating. When I read a book, I want to be engaged. I do not want to feel apathy from the author in his own work. That's boring, and frankly I consider it to be bad writing.

The ending is shit. Lisbeth realizes that she's in love with Blomkvist. I hold none of the same affection for him, and I think that she could do much better, but I understand and the author did a good job of making me believe it. Lisbeth decides to confess her feelings, because to do otherwise would drive her crazy. She buys a gift, a thoughtful one, something she's not known for, as an excuse to see him and tell him. Cool. She goes. She sees him going home with Erika, obviously to have sex. Her heart is broken. She throws away the sign. She goes back home without telling him. Her already fragile self-confidence takes yet another beating, and she thinks to herself that no one could love a freak like her. The book ends.

KIRA RAGE. Not about Lisbeth's reaction, nor her feelings. I believe those and understand. What I don't understand is the author's choice to end with some kind of namby-pamby so-called 'literary' ending. It's a shit ending. I don't give a fuck about 'literary' endings or endings fraught with 'meaning.' I could care less that the author is attempting to create a poignant moment or some shit like that. Pointless angst does not a good ending make. I am not left with a positive feeling about this book when you beat up on my favorite character yet again, Stieg Larsson. It makes me angry. Is this ending supposed to provide further depth for Lisbeth's character? Bullshit. Depth can be found in happiness. Complexity is found in joy. You sir, are just not that good of a writer. You leave Lisbeth in the dust, as Mikael literally walks into the sunset of his success, as static and anger-making as ever.

May this book forever reside in the special hell.

So...

2011-05-30T18:58:00.000-07:00

I may have gotten a livejournal account.

But blogspot, baby, it's not because I don't love you! I do! You just... you don't have all the cool people. That is to say, all the nerds who post fanfic and stories on livejournal. And it's not like I won't visit anymore! I will!

You're still special to me, blogspot. We'll just be... seeing other people. You always said you wanted me to be more open in our relationship, right? Now we'll be super open.

Cracktastic Hemingway & Carver Style Vignette

2011-02-20T11:11:00.000-08:00

The man in the chicken suit sat down in the cafe and ordered a hot chocolate. Minutes later, a young woman came jogging up to the table. She collapsed to her knees next to the table.

“Why did you steal my pants,” she said.

“For the same reason you do not love me anymore,” said the chicken.

“That’s crazy. I don’t even know you,” she said.

“Do you not,” he said.

“I don’t. Please give me back my pants,” said the young lady.

“I am sorry,” said the chicken, “I no longer have them.”

“What? But you’re holding them right there,” she said. Both young lady and chicken man looked down to see, indeed, a pair of pants in the man’s hands.

“Ah,” said the man. “Would you like them back?”

“No. No, that’s fine. Keep them,” she said. She took the seat across from the chicken. A giant butterfly flew into the room, exploded, and shattered into pieces of blue glass. Neither chicken nor young lady took notice.

“Would you like a hot chocolate?” asked the chicken. The girl nodded, and the chicken man summoned a young barrista. “Mi amiga quiere un chocolate caliente.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak Spanish,” said the barrista.

“No, I changed my mind. I would like a gin and tonic,” said the young lady.

“We don’t serve alcohol here,” said the barrista.

“Ah, I see. You’re racist,” said the chicken. The barrista gave up and left. Young woman and chicken man were silent. A mime walked in and attempted to order via sign language. Chicken and girl watched as the barrista broke down in tears. They returned to their conversation.

“I hear it’s nice in Prague this time of year,” said the girl. The man nodded.

“You never take me there anymore,” said the chicken.

“Mmhm,” said the girl. She watched as a man took a bowling ball, swallowed it, then promptly regurgitated it. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Indeed.”

“I can keep a bowling ball down much longer than that.”

“I once held a shoe for longer than seventeen seconds.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“You never do.”

“I don’t even know you,” said the young lady.

“Exactly,” said the chicken. The girl looked at the chicken for a long moment.

“My legs are cold.”

A man in a skintight gold leotard walked in and stopped next to the chicken man.

“Isn’t there homework you’re supposed to be doing?”

The girl ignored the man in gold and started coloring a napkin with a purple sharpie. She drew a pair of pants and a shirt. As an afterthought, she drew a pair of underwear. She looked out the window. A bucket was beeping at the top of its lungs.

“I should be going. I have things to do,” she said. She stood and walked out of the cafe. The man in the chicken suit and the man in gold watched her go.

“She has very nice accoutrements.”

“It is a bit nippy out.”

“Goodbye.”

It's winter.

2011-02-07T23:13:00.000-08:00

Dear Mother Nature,

Look, on an intellectual level, I recognize that yes, it is winter. That means that things such as snow and sniffles and random ice patches just happen. I know this. I do.

Proof that I know winter when I see it.

But, just I can't seem to help the cycle of 'what the hell' that I go through every week. It goes like this:

Sunday: Sleep in. Do not leave house. Spend time doing silly things like reading fanfiction and taking twelve different naps. Generally a day of contentment. Completely ignore ridiculous phenomena such as "weather."

Monday: Wake up, unhappy because I'm awake before the sun. Take one step outside. Realize it's fucking freezing. Wonder, "WHY?" Realize: It's February. Damn.

Tuesday: Snow has had time to melt. I'm happier, because that means I can wear my comfiest shoes. Only, it starts snowing halfway through the day, and by the time I'm leaving school, my footwear and outfit are no longer okay, and in fact anything short of some sort of fur-lined parka monstrosity will leave me cold. Double damn.

Wednesday: Take one step out door. Fall on ass. Curse creatively.

Thursday: Fuck, I hate winter.

Friday: Oh thank god it's Friday. ... maybe winter isn't so bad? ... Nah.

Saturday: Burrow into blankets and conveniently located warm bodies. Forget about this whole goddamn season. Winter? What winter?

This cycle has been repeating itself since about January. By March I will be some sort of rabid beast that roams the land in search of sunlight and dry ground.

So consider this my formally lodged complaint. I object to the existence of winter past the month of December. I object to the freezing cold, the biting wind, the slippery ice, the sniffles, the nosebleeds, and the cabin fever. I'm done.

Best Regards,

Kira

P.S. - I have strep right now, which I totally blame on winter. If I sound cranky, or spiteful, or incoherent, blame it on the fact that I can't swallow a single fucking thing without feeling like I'm shoving a hedgehog down my throat. Ta.

On Pain of Death

2010-10-06T14:49:00.000-07:00

There is a reason I am posting. My friend will tell you it is because she asked nicely. She is wrong. I'm not saying she threatened me with bodily harm should I not update, and soon, but I will say that the maniacal look in her eye created a deep pit of fear inside me. So, I am posting, but it will be stream-of-conciousness style.

I don't really like eating fish, except for sushi. I'm not sure why. I think the texture is odd. Which is also the reason I don't like eating plain bananas and yogurt.

You know who's hot? Christian Kane. He's Eliot in Leverage, and he sings, and, and. :D Yeah.

Tasty, tasty Will Smith. Should I be trying to write this while trying to watch Wild Wild West while I should be doing homework? I think, yes.

Walls are nice. I like the way they... hold stuff up.

Oh! Oh! I'm almost done with a short fic called "Peggy Hill Dies" (or maybe "The Death of Peggy Hill," I haven't decided yet), a fanfic for a show called King of the Hill. It's going to be around 1500 words, and I'm getting a kick out of killing off an incredibly stupid character. I've also joined a creative writing club, so it'll actually get edited before I post it. I'll definitely post it on FanFiction.net, and might post it here.

I also have a poem I might post. It's called "The Emo Poem". It is, by most accounts, hilarious.

Oh, and I have a new addiction. Reading fanfiction. It's just so awesome, and free. And for someone who reads as fast and prolifically as I do, it's extremely convenient. There's all these awesome stories right at the tips of my fingers, and I can just read and read and read and never stop. Well. Sometimes I sleep. But whatever.

And now I think this is long enough to save my life. Good day. And I will post later, probably within two months.

Columbine by Dave Cullen

2010-08-06T22:54:00.000-07:00

Columbine by Dave Cullen is, as you might expect, about the tragic shooting at Columbine High School in 1999. It's non-fiction account detailing the attack, its aftermath and the events leading up to it. It was written by a journalist, so it's in the pyramid format - most important information presented first and formost, everything else arranged after.

After reading this book, I found I had to give it two different scores. One for emotional impact, and one for the technical aspects and prose.

For the emotional impact, I give it a 4/5 stars. The events and emotions involved were related skillfully, but it was done by a journalist. As a journalist, Cullen is trained to present the facts in an impartial and fair manner. He purposely wrote himself out of the narrative and maintained professional distance in the writing. The story was conveyed with compassion, humanity, and skill, but the emotional distance required to render the story impartially took away some of the impact he could have given it from being an on-the-scene reporter at the time of the attack. I feel its a balance he struck well, though, and the impact was still impressive.

For technical aspects and prose, I rate it 5/5 stars. Cullen has spent ten years researching the attack, and was one of the first reporters on the scene at the time of the attack. His prose is clear and concise, and maintains interest and compassion. There were no grammatical errors that I noticed. The notes at the end of the book, and the bibliography, are especially revealing. The amount of effort and skill put into this book is apparent and inspiring.

I definitely reccomend this book to others, especially those looking to find out what really happened at Columbine, who the perpetrators really were, and the lasting impact it has had on the community. I found the section on psychopaths especially revealing.

Blargh.

2010-08-05T16:18:00.000-07:00

I missed posting yesterday, which I feel kind of bad about, but I feel I have a legitimate excuse. See, my laptop has contracted this weird virus that means I definitely can't use it for the internet, and it's annoying to use it for anything else. It'll be at least a couple of weeks until I can figure something out and get it fixed, if I can. And I spent half of yesterday trying to figure out what the hell was going wrong with it, and the other half working on my summer homework. So there. Not my fault. :P

Anyways, I had a bit of a scare today. Remember how on Tuesday I didn't post much of anything because I was sick? Well, I'm not really 'sick' with anything, but my allergies are being a complete bitch. My forehead feels like it's caught in a vise half the time, my throat feels weird, one of my ears is stuffy, and my nose is runny and blocked up. And today I've been having trouble breathing. I mean, I was having trouble breathing before, what with all the mucus in my airway and all, but now I just can't seem to get enough air every time I breathe. It's like a constant mini asthma attack. I talked to my dad, and he says the same thing happens to him with his seasonal allergies. He also gave me an inhaler in case it gets worse.

Frankly, it gave me a mini freak out not being able to breathe like I'm supposed to. I feel better now that I've sort of gotten used to it, and I think it's gotten a little better, but it's still unnerving. I hope it stops soon.

God, I hate allergies. I hate summer. Blargh.

Anyways, I'm going to go finish Columbine (by David Cullen) for my homework. I might post a review when I'm done with it.

Ta.

I am sick.

2010-08-03T21:36:00.000-07:00

So today we will discuss things that make me happy. Such as tea.

Mmm. Tea.

And puppies.

Mmm. Puppies.

And let's just throw in a unicorn for good measure.

Well, I don't know about you, but I feel better.

And now off to drink tea and work on my summer homework.

Ta.

I Heard the Owl Call My Name by Margaret Craven

2010-08-02T20:46:00.000-07:00

My father is an English teacher, and he reads books (shocking, I know). Sometimes he really likest the books he reads, and so he makes me read them too. For my own good. Sometimes I really like them, as much as he does. Sometimes I... don't. This is one of those times.

I read this recently under the best possible circumstances (on vacation in California with a friend), so I know for a fact that my own moodiness couldn't have affected my perception of the book.

And I like the book. I do. It's just really... dense. I couldn't decide whether the prose was beautiful or frustratingly annoying, or both. It seemed I had to reread every sentence twice just to get the meaning. And while that probably says something about my own reading level, I find that I just don't care. I believe prose can be both beautiful and effortless. Fahrenheit 451, for example, took my breath away. The only reason I reread passages in it was because they were so beautiful. Not confusing or dense.

The characters, though. The characters were very well-done. And I am a sucker for a good character. Which is the biggest reason I like this book.

On the other hand, there's no plot to speak of, the prose is frustrating (though at times lovely), and the read overall is surprisingly dense for such a short book.

So I give it 3/5 stars.

It's Raining

2010-08-01T18:20:00.000-07:00

I love the rain. I like to dance in it, and watch it fall, and listen to it as it collides with every surface. I love it.

I'm going to be doing Blog Every Day August, so this is my first post.

Unfortunately, I don't really have much to talk about, since I took a massive nap today. So this post will just be a random collection of thoughts.

I um, I read some manga today called Strawberry Marshmallow. It was cute. Though, there weren't any makeouts.

Spellcheck doesn't accept 'makeouts' as a word. Pfft.

I still haven't done my summer homework. School starts the 19th, which is about two and a half weeks. That's enough time, right? All I have to do is read a book and answer some questions intelligently. I do that all the time anyway.

I'm really looking forward to later this week, when my dad and I are doing our yearly Lord of the Rings Marathon. I can't wait to start making jokes about Frodo and Sam's 'special' relationship.

I am so done with summer. I hate the heat, and the sweat, and the sunburns that you can't seem to avoid because the sun is death.

Aaaand, that's all.

Ta.

Invisible Treehouses

2010-07-24T18:42:00.000-07:00

First: Your daily dose of awesome in the form of INVISIBLE TREEHOUSE

Second: I met my daily writing goal and posted the next part of The Wolf Who Eats the Silver Apple on facebook. Today's writing kind of reminded me of why I love writing so much. I was just sitting there, making up an entire world and story out of my head, getting caught up in this character's story, and I had a moment where I thought,

"Shit, this is awesome."

And after this week, where trying to write felt like pulling teeth half the time... well, it was nice.

Third: I went to see Inception, which was actually amazing. I was almost expecting it to suck for all the hype it was getting. But it was just glorious, and I can't say anything more about it because it's just so twisty and complicated and awesome.

Gilroy Garlic Festival

2010-07-23T18:04:00.000-07:00

I went to the Gilroy Garlic Festival today. "What is that?" you ask. Well, it's, uh, a garlic festival. In, um. In Gilroy. Apparently it's one of the largest food festivals in America.

While I was there, I ate a garlic steak taco (very good), got a hand-made stoneware mug (named Charles), ate half of a Minute Maid frozen lemonade (disgustingly sugary), and made my friend touch a leather top hat (hi Vicky!).

I also had the pleasure of paying five dollars to climb, then slide down, a giant blow up slide. You know those blow up bouncy castles? It was kind of like that, only much more awesome. I felt just a teensy bit silly standing in line with a bunch of six-year-olds, but it was worth it. And frankly, I firmly believe that everyone needs to to do silly things like slide down a giant blow up slide, or, I dunno, put stuff on your head.

However, as you might know, Gilroy is in California. And it is currently summer. In California. So it was freakin' hot out. And going to the garlic festival basically consisted of walking around for hours outside, in the sun, surrounded by the pungent aroma of garlic.

I don't like the heat. It makes me feel cranky, tired, and disgusting. So the festival was less awesome for being hot and crowded.

It was all worth it for Charles, though.

I've been writing...

2010-07-23T16:33:00.000-07:00

...and the evidence of it is here:

All of those are parts of a story I'm working on call The Wolf Who Eats the Silver Apple. My plan is for it to be in the neighborhood of 60,000 words when it's finished. I hear that's the average for YA novels.

I'll probably continue posting parts of it to facebook as I go.

I Wrote a Poem

2010-07-23T16:27:00.000-07:00

Supernova

by Kira Gerbitz

The sun is too hot

I wish it would just go die

go supernova

Today

2010-07-22T11:14:00.000-07:00

words at start: 4068

words at end: 4744

words written: 676

sandwiches eaten: 2

socks knit: .5

Review: Kitty Norville Books 1-5 by Carrie Vaughn

2010-04-05T19:31:00.000-07:00

The Kitty Norville series is about a werewolf in Denver who has her own midnight radio talk show about the supernatural. Kitty can't seem to stay out of trouble, and she has many adventures.

Kitty and the Midnight Hour (Book 1): I really liked this book. I read a lot of urban fantasy and paranormal romance, and I'm extremely fond of kick-ass chicks. While Kitty doesn't have twelve different mystical powers or a half-vampire/half-weresquid lover, and she can't bench-press small buildings, she is definitely kick-ass. For the past few years, she's been at the bottom of her pack's hierarchy. She's been regularly abused, both emotionally, physically, and sexually. She's stayed, because a wolf without a pack is no one, and has no one to rely on. But times are changing, and Kitty's growing up. She starts her own radio talk show, starts making more and more decisions about her life, and finally allows herself to be independent. She starts standing up for herself in her pack, even to her Alpha. And I have to say that that took real balls, considering he was the one to abuse her the most. Throughout the book, she fights for her right to be herself and have her own life. She's so kick-ass. (4/5 stars)

Kitty Goes to Washington (Book 2): This was a book of really great characters (sexy brazilian dude, awesome victorian vampire lady, etc.), and dragging plot. I skipped an entire section in the middle, and I didn't miss anything, so there you go. It was interesting, and Kitty is her awesome self, but I didn't like it as much as book one. (3/5 stars)

Kitty Takes a Holiday (Book 3): Kitty goes on vacation in the mountains for a little R&R, but of course that doesn't work out for her. There's so much in this book I want to squeal in happiness about, and rave about, but it's all SPOILERS, so I can't. Just, know that the characters are awesome as always, and I got frustrated with the pacing (again). (3/5 stars)

Kitty and the Silver Bullet (Book 4): DUDE. This book has so much going for it. I loved the action-y bits, and all the bits with Ben in them, and especially the part where Kitty finally gets back at some assholes I've been waiting books to see go down in flames. It's probably my favorite Kitty book I've read so far. (4/5 stars)

Kitty and the Dead Man's Hand (Book 5): Kitty goes to Vegas, to shoot a live TV version of her show, as well as some other reasons. We meet some of my favorite supporting characters in this series (let's just say they wear leather and are in town for a gun show). My favorite bits are, again, the bits with Ben in them. Have I mentioned how much I love the characters in this series? They're so well-done. And Kitty gets to spend time in a harem (there were columns, and well-tanned men fawning over her)! (3/5 stars)

I'm looking forward to reading the other Kitty books, as well as Carrie Vaughn's other work.

Ciao.

Easter and Tingles

2010-04-04T22:27:00.000-07:00

"Whatever hour it is, it is too early for me to be awake." (11:45 a.m.)
"The short people in my house are freaking the frak out for no apparent reason and also I have no eardrums because they have melted. Also I want coffee. Good morning, World!" (12:50)
"What was that, mother? You wish me to function? Ha. Ha, I say. I have not even found the apricot jam this morning, and I am sans coffee. I spit on your dreams of a coherent daughter." (12:55)
"I HAVE NOW ORGANIZED EASTER. You are welcome, family. Let us now hide the not-fetuses in a festive manner."
"Wait, how many eggs did we start with? Sister dearest, do you know how many eggs there are? No? Brother, dear, stop chortling at our 'amateur mistakes'. When we find the missing rotten egg in two weeks, it will be in your face that I will SMASH it."
"OMG I LUVS ME SOME WARM BLOODY MEAT. STEAKS FOREVAR."
"Oh no, my parents have given me a GINORMOUS BASKET full of delicious things. They are the worst people in the world." *noms on chocolate bunny*

That's pretty much how the first part of my Easter went. Also I had many debates with my father on the pagan fertility origins of Easter. Which was fun.

Then, I did some other stuff that was less exciting, including reading (remind me to post my reviews for books 1-5 of the Kitty Norville series) and the aforementioned bunny-nomming.

I then managed to write more than 700 words, which I am very happy about. Normally I clock in about 250-500 words in a day, less if I have other things planned. So, yeah, happy.

Ta.

Oh, So That's How That Works

2010-03-29T20:57:00.000-07:00

Item #1: If I write, I won't feel so twitchy. (Shutupshutupshutup I know I keep having to figure this out, shutup.)

Item #2: There's, like, this thing called eating, and it's where you like put this thing called food into your tummy. It's all very newfangled. I've never heard of it before.

Item #3: If one were to, say, get up and move around, it would considerably tire one out. Especially compared to sitting on one's bottom all the time.

*cough*

Not that any of these items have anything to do with my day today. None whatsoever. *shiftyeyes*

Imaginary Conversation with Myself

2010-03-24T15:04:00.000-07:00

Me: Hey self. You know how I've been kind of twitchy and irritable lately?

Self: Uh, yeah.

Me: Well, I kinda spent most of today writing.

Self: Yeah?

Me: Yeah. And... and I feel much better. Like, a whole lot better.

Self: Really.

Me: Yeah. I'm a little surprised. I totally did not see that one coming.

Self: Me either.

*silence*

Me: Well, uh, I'd better get going. Books to read, hot cocoa to drink, all that.

Self: You do that.

Me: Um, well, bye. [leaves]

Self: Bye. [waits]

Thank god she's gone. Where'd I put the whisky? You'd think we were a bloody idiot, the way she carries on. [shakes head sadly]

Coraline Graphic Novel by Neil Gaiman & P. Craig Russell

2010-03-19T10:34:00.000-07:00

8/10 stars.

I love Coraline, so reading it again was fun. This graphic novel closely followed the book, which was nice. But I didn't feel like the art style matched the story, really. P. Craig Russell's art is very clean, detailed, and specific. Coraline, and Neil Gaiman's stories in general, tend to have a dreamlike quality to them. You're not really sure of anything, but the logic within it makes sense in its own way. The two styles didn't really mesh well for me. However, I really like Russell's rendition of the Other Mother and Mr. Bobo the crazy man upstairs.

Overall, it was good. I may quibble about the art, but reading Coraline in this form was still delightful.

Fun with Words

2010-03-10T19:32:00.000-08:00

So the title of this post is a bit of a lie. I have not been having fun with words, much to my detriment. I have been busy catching up on work I missed from when I was sick with strep (or something, I never did find out). I have also been taking TESTS, which are very stressful, VERY IMPORTANT, and also very boring (which is contradictory but there you go).

So the whole point of this is that I have not been writing. I am also very twitchy, and I have not been sleeping well. These last two things definitely relate to each other, and most likely relate to the first.

I WANT TO WRITE. I am at a really funny scene where the main character is very high (not on drugs, because she's a bit of a stick in the mud), and she's decided she must dance. I really want to finish this scene, because it is hilarious and also furthers the plot, both of which are good. Also I just need to write. Have I mentioned I'm twitchy?

The upside to all the twitchy and the sleep deprivation is that I've been getting some good reading and knitting done. I'm reading Broken by Kelley Armstrong. I love Armstrong's books - they're so well-crafted, funny, and the characters are not just floppy cardboard messes. I may or may not post a review when I'm done with it. It depends on whether I can get some sleep.

Ciao.

Ink Exchange by Melissa Marr

2010-01-09T22:58:00.000-08:00

7/10 stars.

I absolutely adore Irial - he's such a well-drawn, fascinating, compelling, and sympathetic character. I really, really wanted Keenan to get a deserving and wicked punishment for all the disgusting manipulation and other various actions he committed, but he didn't. Maybe that punishment will come in later books, but I want it now. Or perhaps Keenan was meant to be a sympathetic character as well, though I doubt it. Anyway, I just want him to get his.

I also felt that Marr, when writing about Leslie's choices and her way of making them, went the blunter route instead of a smoother, more delicate approach. I applaud her for facing Leslie's issues head-on and giving real insight into what exactly those issues were and how they were dealt with, but I wanted her to be a little less obvious. It almost felt preach-y, which dismayed me.

I admire Marr's ability to make me completely disgusted with Keenan. I already liked him after having read Wicked Lovely, yet the actions he made that made me hate him were completely believable for his character. The fact that he didn't get some form of tangible punishment in this story was disappointing as a reader, and dimmed my happy glow from reading.

I vacillated between admiring and cheering for Aislinn, and wishing she'd do a little more than just cry sun-drenched tears. I grinned a lot when I read about her being the strong and capable character I met in Wicked Lovely, but rolled my eyes quite a bit at some of her actions. Her not sitting Leslie down and having a serious talk about faeries seemed a bit forced and more a function of plot than her character. I wanted the circumstances surrounding her appearances in the book to be less contrived and more believable.

I fell for Seth all over again in Ink Exchange. I wanted more of him, though I understood it wouldn't have made sense for the story. *sigh*

Unfortunately, I don't really have much to say for Niall. As a main character, he just isn't very memorable for me. Where I devoured the pages where Irial appeared, Niall left me feeling just... meh.

I'm left feeling as if Ink Exchange needs more length, and that maybe that would give it the meat it needs to go from good to great.

Overall, I definitely enjoyed reading Ink Exchange. I found the characters interesting, the writing fluid, and the plot well-paced. It's on my wish list, and I plan on re-reading it in the future.

Bloodhound (Legend of Beka Cooper) by Tamora Pierce

2009-07-31T21:25:00.000-07:00

Bloodhound is the story of Beka Cooper, and her adventures in the city of Port Cayn in Tortall. She and one of her partners, Clary Goodwin, go to investigate a counterfeit ring - one that's been more prolific than normal. They're hoping to shut this ring down before even more damage is done, especially with winter coming on and little to no food due to a bad harvest. They meet the Rogue of Port Cayn, a most lovely character by the name of Pearl, Beka meets a dashing young chap by the name of Dale, and things of many derring-do are done.

I rate it 10/10 stars. Tamora Pierce is amazing, as always. Her characters are real, not two-bit caricatures fantasy (a genre where the world itself tends to be the main character) novels can have. The issues are real, the way the characters deal with them and their environment are real, and I'm not left feeling like anything in the story had to bend to fit the plot. The dialogue is witty, and clever. And just because Beka and her friends have had some hard knocks, doesn't mean they don't have a sense of humor. Tamora Pierce's writing has made me literally giggle with joy. I can't wait for her next book to come out.

Swords for Hire by Will Allen Review

2009-07-26T15:22:00.000-07:00

This book perfectly demonstrates why I love adventure, fantasy, humor, and all the combinations in between. All the characters are realistic and completely themselves - there's no sense that at any moment the main character might decide to something frelling stupid that you know only serves to further the plot. Rather, the frelling stupid things they do are funny, and firmly driven by who the characters are and the situations they find themselves in. I admit to having crushes on Sam, and especially Rigby, and I absolutely admire Melinda. The story is well under 200 pages, and is well-paced and packs a powerful punch. I felt like it was the perfect length, even though I very much wish to read more of the characters in Swords for Hire. It's extremely unfortunate that the author, Will Allen, died before he could see Swords for Hire in print. I'll be looking for more of his work, published posthumously by his brother. 9/10

Conglomeration

2009-07-26T12:28:00.000-07:00

I, previously, had two other blogs besides this one. One, which I used for my knitting exploits, the other primarily for book reviews. I've decided to combine those two into this one. Thus, I have imported all my previous posts on those blogs (which are not many), into this one.

I chose to incorporate all three into one, because it just got too complicated trying to think in three different blogs. And then there were the posts I wanted to make, that didn't seem to fit anywhere. Now, I'm just going to write whatever I feel like, right here.

Now that that's taken care of, I may or may not get some actual blogging done.

Sometimes I'm a Little Slow

2009-05-22T21:29:00.000-07:00

Amount written today: 0 words

Satisfaction level: 0%

I'm starting to think these two things are somehow related. Huh. I think I'll get on that right now.

Cracks in the wall

2009-02-07T07:09:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, the writing is like seeing the story on the other side of frosted glass wall. It's there, you know it is, and you can see the general shape of it, but no matter how much you try to reach it, you just can't. The only way to get to it seems to be banging your head repeatedly against the wall in the hope that you can break through, or otherwise get a spectacular enough concussion that it doesn't matter any more.

But then, sometimes you break through. You have a moment of perfect clarity which manifests itself into a sledgehammer. The glass wall receives a hole the size of Godzilla. The story and characters are there, clear and wonderful and in more detail than you thought you'd get to see them.

Guess which days I'd been having lately? But then guess which day I had on Thursday. I'm feeling good.

Nobody's Princess by Esther Friesner

2009-02-07T06:51:00.000-08:00

Beginning this book, I was a little skeptical. I had a little bit of reverse psychology working on me - I'd heard some great things about this book, but I didn't really think it could be good as all that. And besides that, it just didn't grab me. It has a lot of the things I usually enjoy in a book, like kick-butt princesses, action, adventure, and clever solutions to confusing problems. But having read the Young Warriors anthology including the short story by Friesner that preceded/inspired Nobody's Princess, I really wasn't sure if I'd enjoy the direction she'd take Helen of Sparta. I liked the short story, but for me it left a lot to be desired. I didn't want to be disappointed if Friesner didn't answer my expectations.

But lucky for me, she did. Helen is smart, driven, realistic, and so completely herself that you can't help believing in her. The story is fast-paced and intriguing - it took some turns I completely was not expecting - and Friesner's writing was fresh and to the point. What was abrupt in short story form is expanded, but still lean and without excess - perfect for a princess of Sparta.

I definitely recommend Nobody's Princess, and I'm looking forward to more of Friesner's writing.

I may or may not be a liar

2009-02-07T06:50:00.000-08:00

But I probably am. I hate making excuses for so many posts in a row, but I really haven't had the time or the energy to tackle a full-scale book review. And in the interest of actually doing what I set out to do - blather on about the books I'm reading - I'm just going to talk about what I thought about the books, and the things that particularly struck me about it. This way I'll actually probably get some posts up.

Not so much flaming out on re-entry...

2009-01-18T07:38:00.000-08:00

... as being punched in the face upon landing. I had meant to get a review up right after the holidays, but obviously that didn't happen. My apologies. I still won't be able to get a proper post up for a little bit, but here's a little teaser for what I have in store:

1. Nobody's Princess by Esther Friesner

2. Melting Stones by Tamora Pierce

3. The Naming by Alison Croggon

4. Skin Hunger by Kathleen Duey

5. Shelfari.com - how I found it and why there are now over 400 books on my bookshelf.

6. Policies and future practices of Kira's Bookshelf

7. The book fairy, and how I came to be in the possession of over twenty new books. Or, sometimes it does pay to spend book money on friends and family.

Have a good weekend.

So how's the weather over there?

2009-01-18T06:51:00.000-08:00

I've kept meaning to do a blog about my knitting adventures over the break, but it just hasn't been happening. So I finally sat my butt down and am just doing it.

Vacation knitting: I finished a sock and started another. I was kind of burned out from the Christmas knitting, so I mostly did it during car rides and while watching TV. I'm following Wendy's Generic Toe-Up Sock, but substituting the short-row toe for Judy's Magic Cast-on, because I think it looks prettier, and I like the feel of it on my foot better. I'm also using helical striping, which I'm finding absolutely charming, and there's a wonderful explanation here. I'm using two colors, teal and tan. They're my Beach Socks.

I had a little adventure while binding off the first sock. To begin with, I've been a little worried about the yardage I've got left in the two balls I bought for this project. I figured 220 yards would cover a pair of ankle-high toe-up socks, with my feet being somewhat small in the bargain. So, I thought, to conserve yarn, why not just do my usual bind-off, which doesn't need and more yarn but what's on the needles? Well, first because doing it was a bitch. I don't mean to curse gratuitously, but I pretty much went cross-eyed while I was trying to do this bind-off with these tiny little stitches, in grippy yarn - and I'm a tight knitter, too. Then I tried getting the sock on my foot once I was done. I'm not entirely sure what I was thinking, since I had long since realized while doing the BO that maybe it would be a little tight, and it had no elasticity whatsoever. But, I thought, maybe it will straighten itself out once I was finished. Right. I nearly amputated my own foot trying to get that &$&%8 BO over my big toe. So that was out. And I then had to undo all those tiny, tight, little stitches, in that grippy yarn, while realizing that I'm probably not as smart as I like to think I am. But now the sock fits like a dream, and it's oh so comfy. Now I just have to finish the other one. Here's hoping there's enough yarn left.

Here's a full list of all my Christmas gifts, since I'm still amazed I finished them all:

1. Slippers

2. Socks

3. Dashing wristwarmers, from Knitty

4. Fetching wristwarmers, from Knitty

5. Spiderman mittens, using a chart from the Yarn Harlot's blog that I am in no way trying to hunt up again

6. Thrummed mittens, using an old mitten pattern which I have no idea where it's from

7. An Unoriginal Hat, by the Yarn Harlot

8. Couvercle, from Knitty

Now that I'm not delirious from sugar cookies and coffee, I actually want to do it again. Something about marathon knitting, where you're trying desperately to reach a deadline you're not sure you can reach, while deluding yourself into believing that yes, you actually can...isn't that the extreme sport of knitters? For those of us who want a thrill? Normally, I wouldn't go for it, since my knitting is for relaxing, but once a year ... maybe. Plus, it's the one time a year where when I glare at family murderously while brandishing DPNs and caffeine, they back away, understanding. (My family is usually the almost in-your-face, 'Who do you think you're brandishing those at, anyway?', but they are accepting when they know it will get them pretty things. Also, they know that 'murder' and 'defending the stash' are almost one and the same during the holiday season. Smart, lovely people, my family.)

I have also finished a hat since you've seen me last. I used brooklyntweed's Turn a Square pattern, which I enjoyed very much. It's just tickling my pink that when you wear it, you have a SQUARE on your HEAD. Mayhap I haven't had enough sleep lately, but I still think it's pretty darn amusing.

That's all for now. I'll try not to let pass another millennia before I post again.

Please excuse the radio silence

2008-12-26T14:42:00.000-08:00

It was a little bit frenzied near the end of the Christmas Crunch there. I ended up staying up 'till about 5 am on Christmas Eve (really Christmas, but I'm counting from when I went to sleep) to finish everything. (BTW- it seems like everyone liked their gifts. This does not bode well for future Christmas Crunches, since their approval means I'll be just as likely to go to such lengths again. I feel a little ashamed that I'm so easily bought. But, eh, what're you gonna do? [I'll tell you what: Not much. You're probably enjoying seeing me go to such lengths. I'd claim knitters were sadists if they weren't the nicest people I've ever met.])

Therefore blogging was not at the forefront of my mind.

Unfortunately, I'll still be a bit remiss with the postings. I'm going to California tomorrow (you should see my bedroom. I'm normally a tidy person, but all the things I'll need are in indiscreet piles all over the place.), and I generally don't do much internet surfing while on vacation. Look for me after January 5th.

What's on the needles:

Vacation knitting - my 'beach' socks. I'm trying out helical striping (I love it) on a pair of socks for myself, in sand and teal colors. I'm going to try and finish them in Cali.

When I get back, I need to order needles for my older brother's birthday present (shh. He wants it to be a surprise. We'll see how long it lasts. I might just spontaneously explode from the effort.), then I'll be raring to go. I'm very excited, because it'll be the first time I'll be working with bamboo needles. I've heard good things.

[On a side note: why are KnitPicks metal needles nickle-plated? I'm allergic to nickel, and I know many people are. The last thing I want when I'm knitting are burn-y hands. You have to think it's not a good business decision to potentially alienate part of your customer base. ]

I also have some fixing to do on a pair of mittens I gifted. The pattern called for them to be knit flat, then seamed up. I did one accordingly, but the second I did in the round (I also didn't size down a needle for the ribbing like it said in the pattern). The second one was quicker and more fun, not to mention it actually fit. I think I need to find a better basic mitten pattern, or leave a note in ink to myself to knit all future mittens from that pattern in the round. Anyway, the recipient is anxious for the first mitten to be reknit, since he likes the second so much. I shall oblige.

Bye, and I'll see you after my fun-filled week in Cali.

(Have I mentioned what I'm looking forward to most in California? Going outside. I live in Colorado, so this week of not having to wear three pairs of socks will be quite the treat.)

Bits and pieces

2008-12-21T15:29:00.000-08:00

I'm kind of all over the place, trying to finish my Christmas Gifts and whatnot, so this entry will be rather scattered. I'll try and keep it somewhat organized via numbered list.

1. I finished my sister's wristwarmers (Fetching wristwarmers in Knitty) on Friday. They're lovely.

2. I'm thinking about knitting a headband/earwarmer thing out of the leftover yarn (I got a rather large skein) for her. On top of all my other projects, before Christmas. I might be insane.

3. I finished my brother's wristwarmers today (Dashing wristwarmers in Knitty). I am supremely jealous. I'm trying to convince myself that it would be bad karma to steal them back after I give them to him for Christmas.

4. I had a wonderful time out today with my friend. We hung out at our local Borders. She read, and I knit.

5. I bought her her Christmas and birthday gifts and gave them to her, since I'll be out of town for her birthday. She knew exactly what I was getting her, even before I went to the checkout. I didn't even pretend I was going to 'surprise' her.

6. I'm going to attempt to knit the majority of a hat before I go to bed tonight. I'll probably have to eat and rest sometime between now (4:40) and midnight, but I can work around that.

7. Ravelry is just more addicting than I gave it credit for. I went to log my Christmas projects and new yarns (what I assumed would be a twenty minute job), and I ended up spending over an hour on various pursuits. On the upside, I found the perfect pattern for a Christmas gift next year. On the other hand, 40 of those 60 minutes was intended for the hat I'm trying to finish today, so I can stay on my knitting schedule.

8. I have a knitting schedule. I have set a project for each day. Yesterday wristwarmers, today hat, tomorrow mittens, Tuesday another pair of mittens, Wednesday slippers/earwarmer-thing (if I can manage it), Thursday/Friday hat to be done by Saturday before my flight.

9. Every night I panic slightly around 11 pm as I worry that I won't finish the day's item. I've stayed up past midnight the past three nights to finish.

10. I'm a little short on sleep and coherency.

I think that's all. I'm off to try and finish a hat.

There are people who can keep their gifts secret...

2008-12-20T22:31:00.000-08:00

... I am not one of those people. I was just thinking about it, and I realized that each and every one of my gift recipients (okay, excluding one, but only because she lives over 3,000 miles away from me) knows exactly what they're getting, and have likely been subjected to rants and long-winded 'thoughts' about how I'm going to make it.

Subject #1: MOTHER - socks - Complained about acrylic yarn. Taunted with finished product ("I know your feet are cold. Suck it up. Christmas is only five days away. But have I mentioned how cool it is to wear hand-knit socks?"). Watched me slog through final vortex of stockinette.

Subject #2 FATHER - slippers - began slippers as favor months ago. Promised to have done before weather got cold. Forgot about them, though was gently reminded in October that "Sweetie, my feet are getting kind of frosty". Implied he would get them for Christmas. Recently smiled sweetly when yet another cold-foot comment was made and said, "Wow. Sucks to be you. Wouldn't it be awesome if someone did something about that?" Most recently implied that he wasn't getting anything for Christmas, though the slipper components were sitting out in plain sight.

Subject #3 FRIEND - hat - at Thanksgiving, showed friend cool hat pattern I thought would look fabulous on her. May have made comment such as, "And I'm thinking a pomegranate or rich plum color. Do you think you need an Adult Small or Medium?". May have later stated that "I can't wait to start your awesome hat!".

Clearly I cannot be trusted to keep such a thing a secret. It might be combination of my zealous geekiness for fiber, and the fact that I don't want to give a gift that won't be well received, but I think it all comes down to my extremely 'straightforward' personality.

Luckily none of my peeps crave surprises.

I think I Might Be a Masochist

2008-12-19T14:21:00.000-08:00

At the moment, my right eye is trying to commit suicide. I was up late last night attempting to finish my mom's Christmas present, and it seems that my eye objects to trying to start another gift on the heels of such a fiddly one (which I admit was done in poor lighting). This has made my day so far delightful.

I was so happy to finish my mom's present, because my main thought when knitting it was not, "Oh, she'll love this" "What a delightful colorway" or some such thing. It was mostly, "F@!$ing acrylic". I truly hate the stuff. It's stiff, scratchy, and doesn't hold heat well, if at all. I only used it because I had it sitting around, and I'm cheap. I also didn't think it would really be that bad. I thought I was giving a better gift, because the socks will last longer. I did not realize I was committing myself to a slow death, as I tried to knit cardboard socks on little needles, with yarn that seemed to hold the needles in a dramatic death grip. (I do not lie when I tell you that those needles are now bent. They've got this curve to them from trying to wrangle the acrylic crap off of them and into socks.)

Needless to say, I am a much happier person, now that the F*&$ing Acrylic Socks are done. I even did a little jig as I wove in ends. 'I am free!' I thought.

Then I remembered what I'm making my mother next Christmas. And I began to feel a little sick.

See, my mom has these two really big skeins of yarn that she's had for a while. One is red, and one is green, and my mother would really like a Christmas sweater made out of them. Before I began the F$%*ing Acrylic Socks, I thought to myself, "I will do it. I love my mother, and I know she will adore having a Christmas Sweater." But now that I have finished the FAS, I realize there will be some problems when I try to make this sweater.

1. It's acrylic. I despise acrylic.

2. It's a sweater, so I will spend a lot of time with the acrylic.

3. I lied before. The yarn isn't 100% acrylic. It's 95%. But the other 5% is metallic thread. It is in there for sparkle and to make the yarn more eye-catching. I assume.

I privately believe that this yarn is special yarn sold in special stores, to masochists. To those knitters who feel the need for penance in their lives. I'm not sure how my lovely mother came to have this yarn, as she is not what most people would call a masochist. (She did decide to raise five children, and chose not to sell us on the black market. I personally believe, though, that she is merely insane, not a masochist.)

But I am still going to knit the sweater. I love my mother, and I want her to have her f)*%&ing Christmas Sweater. This may make me a masochist.

3 Things to Start off With

2008-12-17T18:46:00.000-08:00

1. I will not be posting often, or religiously. This is because I am in the Christmas Crunch period. I am trying maniacally to finish all 430o5 projects I have left, in the next six days.

2. I do not own a camera. This makes knitblogging somewhat difficult, as I admit to skimming new blogs for their pictures. I depend on the pics to show me the knitter's skill and creativity.

You will find none of that here.

3. Some of my current projects lack, shall we say, "zest". I am on seconds of most of my pairs gifts (second sock [plain and in acrylic], second wristwarmer, another second wristwarmer...), and I would find it difficult to describe the sheer excitement that knitting seconds entails.

It might get exciting when I get around to putting together my dad's present, since I've really backed myself into a corner with that one. (I am not a seamstress. I persist in believing I am. What I call "putting together" actually involves somewhat complicated stitchery, and my sewing machine is broken anway. It will be Fun.)

So my apologies, but hopefully things will pick up a bit when I dig myself out of this rut of seconds.

Reasons I Should Have Spent My Christmas Gift Money on Books

2008-12-17T18:25:00.000-08:00

1. I Should really be trying for personal growth and enrichment. You know, enlightenment. Being able to sound intelligent in front of my peers. I hear books can help with that.

2. Really, my friends/family have enough "stuff", anyway. They really don't need any of the things I got them. And buying myself books wouldn't count as "stuff", anyway, because I am obviously doing it to attain a higher understanding of the world.

3. Really, I'd be giving back to the family. They trust me for the recommendations I give them, not to mention the witty insights into daily life provided by my constant reading. ("Your nose is stuffy like the padding in Alanna's armor! [re: Song of the Lioness by Tamora Pierce]" "...What?" "I thought so.")

4. Re: Giving back - they always end up borrowing my books anyway, since I'm the one in the family who reliably has new good reading material. I could almost count the books as my gift to them. Except, like, mine. Because I would never let them permanently keep my precious books.

5.Terry Pratchett, Laurell K. Hamilton, Tamora Pierce, Meg Cabot, Robin McKinley, Dorothy Parker, etc. I do not own, nor have I read, all of their books. This is a travesty that must be fixed.

I'm sure I could find more reasons that my attempts to buy my family's love are remiss, but I'd rather not acknowledge some of the ways I've tried convincing myself that I don't really need to prove my affection over and over again each year, and it's really a disgusting holiday anyway, considering all the waste and ill-will that goes into it generally... I do love my family. Really, I do. But...Amazon.com has free shipping for orders over $25. Does anyone but me realize how many books it is possible to get for $25?

...I should really stop now, before I dig out my receipts and this gets even uglier. Besides, now that I've gotten all my presents, I can spend my money on books. Hey, yeah!

PS- Book review forthcoming.