FemiKnitMafia

The MIT Stitch and Bitch donated a trunk full of supplies. Click over to the MIT blog to see the amazing stash we donated! Can you donate a little too? Click on the flyer to get a bigger view so you can see how to donate:

These days, my knitting is all Roo, all the time. Go see her newly finished cute blue scarf. As I mentioned a few days ago, I’m working on a secret project for Roo’s in utero baby boy, so I can’t post about that. But I can send some Roo-love into the blogiverse. Here’s her first scarf, made for a friend a few months ago. Notice the cute flower pins? Love those. I have a couple of the 2004 version at home. Sometime I’ll take a picture and post with more Roo-love.

And here’s the fall 2005 version of the flower pin, with the button and top-stitch details added. Yes, that’s my bust again. I’m all about the boobies these days. This is officially proof to Roo-the-skeptic that I actually wear the beautiful flowers that she makes me. In fact, if you must know, I wore this particular flower 3 times last week, including to work. Should you need further proof, Danielle will vouch for me.

Several months ago, I bought this awesome sock yarn for Roo’s preggie feet. Perhaps I’ll make said socks before preggie is complete?

In other Roo-news, she has delighted me by asking if I’ll teach her to make these awesome fingerless mittens from Melanie Falick’s Weekend Knitting. Hooray! I can’t wait to cast on. I have promised Wifey and BaseballBoyGirl (Wifey’s 13 yr old sister) each a pair of fingerless mitts. Can’t wait. Yeah Roo. You’re getting sucked into the knitting void. Mwwwhhhhaaahhaaa!

Shamelessly stolen from my dynamo friend Sheelzebub over at Pinko Feminist Hellcat:

“Disaster on the Bayou.

The Big Chill in 30 Seconds, re-enacted by bunnies.

This one is funny, until the end. Then it’s heart-wrenching.

And finally, here are The Pigeonhawks, with a message about how important veterans are to them.”

Here she is — my AC Shawl/Not Knit Round Scarf from The Purl Stitch, which was lovingly lent from a fellow MIT Stitch and Bitcher.

For all you spinners out there, yes, that’s a spinning wheel in my house. It’s Wifey’s antique, inherited from her Gammy. We have no idea how old it is. It doesn’t work. It’s missing some essential parts, which I might have replaced at some point when I’m financially stable (distant or never?). Tiny holes in the wheel indicate that her precious antique has contracted a case of wood worm, so who knows what will happen to it. At the NH Sheep and Wool Festival, I chatted with a spinning wheel craftsman who is willing to refurbish the wheel for me. Perhaps someday.

It occurred to me in the shower this morning that, despite the illusion of intimacy, we bloggers don’t really know each other well. We regularly make assumptions to fill in the blanks between the written words. I started this blog as a brain dump with little consideration for how it might appear to others. But somewhere along the way, I got a couple of regular readers, and I love that. I’ve “met” some amazing people and I’m grateful for this unexpected gift. But ultimately your knowledge of my character extends only as far as my HTML code. Therefore … I’ll start being a little more careful in my choice of words. So …

Before I get any comments about how I’m polarizing the spectrum of sexuality by referring to the “straights” and the “lesbos”, let me say this. I believe in Kinsey. As far as I’m concerned, there is a spectrum of sexuality. I consider myself a 5. [anyone else feel like divulging their score?]

I also believe deeply in the politicization of sexuality. The more people included in the movement for gay rights, the better. So … I use the terms gay/lesbian/dyke/queer/trans/etc to mean anyone with attractions to members of the opposite sex or people that transcend gender distinctions. I use “dyke” to mean all women loving women. Yes, that includes you bi-girls.

So … I apologize if I inadvertently assumed that anyone was straight or gay based on their current relationship status. Perhaps Local Egg is a big lesbo and married to a man? Perhaps MamaCate is a big straighty and married to woman? Perhaps both are totally Kinsey-3 bi-chicks? Who knows? Who cares?

I’m just having fun here, being sassy and irreverent. I hope you’re having fun here too.

You straight ladies are impressive. Without drawing unnecessary attention to MamaCate’s near miss, I must remain truthful and confess that Local Egg receives the prize.

BFF&ExGF#2= Best Friend Forever and Ex-Girlfriend #2.

I wouldn’t say “Best Female Friend,” because I have precious few male friends and therefore would not distinguish male/female. Sorry my dykey friend. I’m sure you speak the tongue better than most.

I originally imagined the prize would be a pair of black wristcuffs emblazoned with “Big Dyke” in neon green beads. Or a wonder woman outfit with “SD” across the breasts and “Super Dyke” along the bottom of the cape.* But I’m thinking that LocalEgg’s hubby might not approve.

*BTW I did create such an outfit back in college for a straight girl to wear to the annual campus Drag Ball. That’s drag for her, right? I should scan and post a picture of the attire. It was hilarious. I attended said Drag Ball as a conservative right-wing man with ExGF#1 as a right-wing lady. That was drag for us. I thought it was hilarious. On my ultraPC campus, almost noone else thought it was funny. And interestingly, because the ever-fabu BFF&ExGF#2 participated in the Drag Ball antics, she began the journey to GF#2.

In case I haven’t mentioned it before, Northampton (Lesbian Mecca) is my favorite place on the planet. Wait, Plum Island is my favorite place on the planet. Shit. I don’t know. They’re both great. Anyway … during my last trip to Noho, my ever-fabu BFF&ExGF#2 (a prize to the first one to decode my lesbo-speak) Danielle took me to my first Tibetan restaurant, the Lhasa Cafe. Oh the love. Love. Love. Dumplings, piles of veges, spicy broths, deep warm colorful pottery bowls, dumplings, firey sauces with mystery ingredients, and did I mention the dumplings? Wrap it in dough and me loves it. I never thought I’d find food that I love more than Thai from JP’s Ban Chiang. Well, I did. Tibetan is my new obsession. Where am I going with this, you might ask? Here –

When “someone” in my house finds her dream job, I’m taking her smart ass for a celebratory dinner to this place. *

*thanks to urban hipster ChrisQ for the link and review.

Job.Money.Car.Health.Katrina.
Once again, I’ve been MIA. My life is a bit insane. Job troubles for Wifey, money troubles, car troubles, and health troubles for me. Wifey’s job troubles are working out slowly. Very slowly. Agonizingly slowly. Money troubles are money troubles. Pay the rent, avoid the utilities for a couple months, cut back on anything unnecessary, turn the damned lights off, stop buying organic for a bit, hit the library, sell some shit on eBay or CraigsList … you know the deal. Car troubles boil down to this — one VW wagon minus one timing belt=destroyed engine and a $4K quote. Hah! See previous sentence about job and money. Insert one beautifully caring and loving brother driving 6 hours in a SUV to attach my car to a dolly, sleeping for 2 hours and driving back. Then imagine a couple weeks of this young man searching for used parts online and swearing under hood of wagon. Now … think of me, a couple weeks from now, trying to get to an obscure location 6 hours away with no money to rent a car and my only car celebrating its new engine. Needless to say, I’ll be dealing with some logistical issues all too soon. Most importantly, My Brother is the Best! Health troubles are weird. I have some sort of heart issue. Not diagnosed. Doc seems a little worried, but not freaked. I call on Tuesday expecting to see her within a week or two. Nope, I was brow-beaten into coming within 3 hours of my call, and further scolded that if I had additional symptoms in the meantime (3 hours!), I was to get to an E.R. Fuck that, I’m 30! Anyway, I had some tests done with more to come. I had to cut back on my caffeine intake. Barry’s! I can only drink you once a day, and perhaps give you up entirely! Oh the horror! Plus, I have to de-stress. Yeah, right. See beginning of post. I’ll get right on that. Bottom line is — I’m 30. I’m not going to drop dead of a heart attack. Yes, my Grandpa had his first ‘big one’ (as my family calls it) in his late 20s, a massive and disabling one in his early 40s and a fatal one at 53. Yes, my 49 year old Mom is on meds and closely monitored. But I’m 30! I’ll be fine, if I can only stop thinking about Katrina. This was totally preventable. The government has been incredibly remiss in responding. I am delighted that celebrities are speaking out. But once again, I am ashamed to be an American. We can do so much better than this. However, as the job.money.car.health.self-pity.anger rollercoaster circles around in my mind, I’m painfully aware of how lucky I am to have my home and my family. I am thankful. The rest will work out eventually. ‘Nuff said. Let’s get to the knitting.

Knitting.
I just finished a semi-secret project that can’t make it’s bloggy debut until the end of September. Roo knows that Baby Joey is getting a Mafia original, but I don’t want her to see it until the shower (9/24). Sorry dear readers (all two of you), you’ll have to wait until Sept. 25th.

I plan to take the famous headless Mafia pic with my new AC Shawl/Not-Knit-Round Scarf draped across my shoulders. Problem is - it’s black, and I almost always wear black. This does not provide many photo ops. I contemplated stripping off today’s black shirt and doing a bra shot, but the belly isn’t what it used to be. Sorry ladies, I won’t be providing lesbian porn this week. [bring on the google hits]

The grind is calling…

Warning to my wallet and my wife — the new knitty is up, and I lust after Samus (and it’s sister pattern Kepler), Josephine, Revolution, Leaves in Relief, Falling Leaves, Bubby and Astrodome. I have such strangely eclectic taste.

My bank account is in the toilet. Will some please send me bags and bags of lovely fall colors of merino dk or aran, please???

Finally — an explanation for my brother.