Oh my god, oh my god, eww, eww, eww

OH MY GOD THREE GUESSES WHAT THIS FELTED OBJECT IS. One, two, three, I know you didn't get it.


It's a UTERUS. WITH A FETUS IN IT. But it's not, like, anyone's womb, my womb, or your womb, it's not the general womb.

It is Bella's womb, you guys. With the bloodsucking demon fetus in it. That's a tiny bloodsucking demon fetus, lovingly rendered in wool, by a fan.

I love books, and I love crafting, and I love it when crafting and literature come together, especially in a wacky way. But no. No, no, no, this is not right.

While we're on the topic, I read the Twilight series with ravenous interest, I loved it, I couldn't put it down, I'll probably read it again, and me and all my girlfriends did, in fact, go to the midnight showing of the film, where we all squealed along with the 12 year olds when Edward walked on screen.

Spoilers ahead, nerds. Although if you haven't read it yet, where you been?

On the other hand, while I was still reading the books, I spent hours on writerly tirades about how Stephanie Meyer is kind of an awful writer, and hours more on feminist tirades with Cabbage and Brax about how the series is, in many ways, actually horrifyingly sexist and messed up. If I were a mom I'd have to have a very serious conversation with my daughter before I let her read these books, which enthusiastically reinforce unhealthy and actually insane ideas about love and romance. Like, for example, the boy you like when you're 17 is your soul mate for whom you would die, and he is your whole world and it's all so romantic, and you're soul mates just like Romeo and Juliet! (teenage suicide=true love.) Or Cathy and Heathcliff! (more obsessive "love," soul mate/ownership crap. Note to Meyer and other women who buy this crazy line--Bronte was not trying to paint a portrait of true love with Wuthering Heights. Oh my God, no. You people are messed up if you're looking for a Heathcliff-Cathy dynamic in your love life, Holy Monkeys you are SO MESSED UP, get therapy, please.) It all gets even better when he miraculously rescues you from a stranger gang rape in an alley! And when he breaks up with you your life ends and you jump off cliffs and stuff, for fun, but oh good, he came back so everything's fine again, whoopee, let's all be vampires! Because, at 17, you are totally positive that you will love this person not only for the rest of your life, but for the rest of eternity.

However. Meyer is surely doing something right, because despite all that (and more) I am still, totally, a fan. I am genuinely completely confused about why I loved these books so much. I kind of turned into a dumbass teenager while I was reading them, all giggly with the knowledge that Edward could show up at any second. Even though I knew that Jacob was totally a better choice, I was still in love with Edward, imaginary Edward, because if a real Edward showed up in my life I'd be all "co-dependent! red-flags!! RUN AWAY!!!"

Anyway. So that felted womb is pretty crazy, huh?

Bruce

Cascade Rustic...

...is completely gorgeous. I'm actually softening my hardline stance on linen, purely because of Cascade Rustic. I'm having trouble capturing the beauty in a photo, you'll just have to trust me.

beer, california, cougars, hope, change,

Here is your RDA for cute! Now you're set for the day.

Last night I got off work at midnight and headed to the bar to drink some beer and watch a band play. KT and I headed to my place at last call (passing through WHITE CASTLE on the way for a sack o' sides), where, champions we, we made it happen til 5:30 AM.

This did not seem so brilliant when my alarm went off. I got up at 10:15 AM and took a half assed shower without getting my hair wet because that would mean having to do this whole style/blowdry routine. I instead opted for a sloppy flat iron to give the illusion of grooming. I got dressed in an outfit comprised by maybe 80% of things I'd worn to the bar the night before, had half a cup of coffee, and left the house. Grubby, hungover, no sleep Bruce. I had to stop by the Science Pirate's place on the way to the shop because he had my shop key (because he is now not only my friend but my employee and I could fire him or dock his pay (haha, pay) if I wanted). So I walk into his house and he comes downstairs and he looks at me and says, "Hi. You look nice."

Now that will make a girl feel good. It's awfully pleasant to be told you look nice by someone you see every day, on a day when you didn't really sleep and you didn't really groom and you are pretty much feeling like a mangy old hooker. Feeling like Pabst is coming out of your pores.

Anyway. So that was a nice start to my day. I look nice! Excellent, so that's done.

I went to TNNA a couple weeks ago, were I met some nice people and talked to them about my book, and was also called a Cougar by a passing young man. Here's me and Karida and Stefanie moments before the incident:

Yes, seconds later a man walked by us and yelled, at us, "RAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! Cougars!" Lookit them cougars. Look, don't ask me, I don't know.


San Diego was straight up awesome. When Matt dropped me off at the airport, it was -10 in Columbus. San Diego? 76 degrees. Karida and I checked into the hotel and headed straight for sushi and the bay. Here we are, at this restaurant with wonderful sushi and terrible service. We were absolutely giddy at the warmth. We just kept saying things like "We are outside. We are outside. I can't believe we're outside. I wish I wasn't wearing socks."





These are pretty much the only pictures I have from San Diego that don't involve Karida sitting behind a 28 oz. margarita. I took, like, no pictures at TNNA because my camera was dying and is now dead. Where is my charger? Where? Where? Why?

I arrived back in the deep-freeze of Ohio at 10:30 PM on Sunday January 18. The next morning Matty and Topher and I hopped in the car and headed to DC, where , I don't know If you've heard about this, but they were having this swearing in ceremony thing for the new president. It's actually kind of a big deal. He's the first black president, they say.

We were lucky. We hit no traffic to speak of, and we were able to stay with our friend. (If you are a friend of ours in DC and we didn't call you while we were there, please don't be mad. We were in town for less than 48 hours and we just didn't have time to visit with people. We're doing a real visit in May, we'll hang then.) We pretty much showed up, went to the inaug, and left. My camera, as I say, was dead, but Topher took lots of pictures, which you can look at here. We were about as far from Obama as you could get and still be on the Mall, but man. Just being there, in that city, in that crowd, at that moment...I'm just really glad I was there.

It was a pretty exhausting 5 days, from San Diego to Ohio to DC and back to Ohio again. Totally, totally worth it, though.

So things are going pretty good here, except for the whole deep freeze thing. I'm pretty ready for spring now. February starts tomorrow. Be strong, folks.

Bruce

Remember how hot it was in July?

This was the scene on my street last night. Look at my sad little face!

Holy crap!

It's, like, -400 degrees outside. Yesterday was a little mini blizzard. When I woke up I was pleasantly surprised by the buckets of snow falling from the sky. Pretty! Fun! But then it kept it up for 12 hours. Cancellations! Accidents! No karaoke tonight, kids. Let's all hole up and play games.

Scattergories!

Other cozy winter activities:

Kitten Naps!


Bakin' savory pies!

Irish hiking scarf!

Baby Alpaca Chunky! It's for dad.

Raglan!

I thought I'd throw together a little raglan cardigan using Cascade Jewel. Jewel is a Manos knock off, and it is really nice. The colors are chewy and full, it is easy to work with, and it knits up beautifully. It also felts real nice, if that's your thing. For my cardi, I didn't really swatch or make a plan or anything. I just sort of assumed I'd get about 4 sts to the inch. I'm only about 5 rows in, so we'll see where we end up. That's what I call "Designing."

Wine!

KT bought this wine because she is allergic to sulfites. She says that most people are allergic to sulfites and that's why they get bad hangovers from red wine. She says that I am probably not allergic to sulfites because red wine is like mother's milk to me, and I have never gotten those monster red-wine-hangovers I've always heard about. See how KT going to culinary school improved all our lives? Now we know about certain kinds of hangovers.

Clean out the pantry!

Snowstorms are the best time to clean out your pantry. Look how happy he is, happy about his clean, clean pantry fulla food! He's a little OCD, though, so don't be disappointed if you clean your pantry out and do not experience this kind of radiant joy. He also gets that look on his face when you show him an Extreme Weiner.

Emerald Isla Yarns!

We're pretty excited cause Esmeralda is dyeing up a batch of this kind of beautiful thing for the shop. It's gorgeous, and I love that she is a super cool lady who lives right here in Clintonville.

That's all for now. Stay warm, my pretties, and stay tuned for stories from San Diego! I'll be at TNNA with Karida, hanging out in North Light's booth, doing promotion stuff for Pints and Purls.
You know, that book we wrote.

Luv,
Bruce

That was a big year.

Another New Years Eve. NoGoodNick did a better rundown of the evening than I could possibly do, especially since I left my camera at KT's place. (KT! Gimme my camera.)

OK, 2007 was a train wreck, so last year at this time I was blogging about how 2008 had better be excellent, and life had better not throw me any more crap for a minute. My blogs were answered. 2008 really didn't throw me much crap at all. I did scary things. I powered through my last 5 months sitting at a desk, powered through a 425 mile move, and wrote a book, opened a shop, and flipped my life around in just about every way you could imagine. I took big huge risks in my personal life and my professional life. People I love and respect told me I was taking too many risks and walking the wrong path. They were trying to help, but I think the big lesson for this year is Sometimes I Am Right. This year, everything changed, everything changed awesomely. The only constant, as usual, is the people, the same old goofy drunk wonderful people. (The ones who worried for me turned right around, held their noses, and helped me anyway. Really, wonderful people.)

So that's kind of fun. I am incredibly grateful for a year in which my heart didn't get broken, I didn't lose a loved one, I kept everything I loved and then added more. Cynical me is reading over this, and saying, "get ready for disaster." Well, OK. I'll get ready. That's life. For the moment, I'm full of gratitude for getting to be exactly where I want to be, no matter how much work or risk is involved.

I was thinking this morning about how I just clicked SNAP! into my new life. How going to work every day in DC was like tryin' to squeeze into size 5 jeans (!), and here I am now, just snap! right into my work, my friends, my family, my home, my serving job. Snap. Just like that.

What do I want for 2009, though? I'd feel like an asshole asking for anything. The absolute best I could hope for is more of this, more of the same. I want to make things, and I want to keep everything I love.

10 10 10 10 for everything everything everything everything

1) WINTER. My love of winter is over. It only took a few weeks for the charm to wear off. If winter were a person I'd punch it. O, tropical District of Columbia, with your handsome 40 degree winter days! Oh, my Lord in Heaven, it is cold. Those of you reading from DC will remember me saying that, in Ohio, the sun doesn't come out from November to March. We're in the middle of that now. It's awful.

2) KNITTING. It's good weather for knitting, though. I've started (yet another) Irish Hiking Scarf. Again, in Baby Alpaca Chunky. This one is for my dad. He requested exactly this for his Christmas present, which made my life a lot easier because I never know what to get him. Plus, I can pretty much do Irish Hiking Scarves in my sleep at this point.

3) FROGGING. My My So Called Scarf is getting frogged because I did it on a stupid 10.5 needle. Fact: You need to use an 11. That little millimeter is the difference between awesome and stupid. Goddammit. I was all, MSCS, it's cool! And then Cabbage and Brax started doing them too, on the correct needles, and theirs were SO MUCH PRETTIER than mine that I almost set them on fire. So I'm seriously bitter about the MSCS.

4) WORKING. Brax and I are working really hard lately. I was thinking the other day about last year, that golden, golden period last year, when I absolutely hated my job, but I only had one. Just the one job. Sure, it was a huge struggle to get out of bed in the morning, yeah, but it was just the one job. The whole thing isn't a problem except on Fridays and Saturdays, when we have to juggle both our serving jobs and the shop, and at least one of us will end up working til 2AM. Them's the breaks!

5) DRINKING. We're responding to the stress in the usual way: going out. Alcohol has been involved. For one thing, my ol' man has been out of town on business (Hah!). I think it's pretty funny that whenever he goes out of town I act like I'm 19, considering the fact that he does not constrain my actions in any way when he is around. He's kind of rad that way and, given my priorities, I wouldn't be with him if he wasn't. Still, whenever he goes out of town I kick it, hard. The other thing is, people are starting to drift into town for the holidays. Party time! The third thing is, there is karaoke every night of the week in this crazy town. I'm running out of songs to sing, and am open to suggestions. In case you're wondering what my nights look like, here's me and Brax and Cabbage rocking "Goodbye Earl."


6) COLD AND FLU SEASON. The past week has been pretty fun, but the result of all that fun is that I'm freaking sick. Some kind of cold or flu or somethin'. If this post is incredibly disjointed and stupid sounding, it is because my brain is NOT WORKING. I feel all cracked out. There is no such thing as enough sleep. The Science Pirate was just here and gave me some cough drop things that made me feel a lot better, but I am, regardless, dying to get back in bed.

7) KITTEN. It doesn't help that this is waiting for me in bed:



Mr. Rochester is a little devil. He'll suck you right into his web of snuggling. He'll also attack your face while you're asleep. He's getting along with the other cats. Cat harmony has been pretty much restored. Lucy even gives him a bath sometimes.

8) I BLOGGED ABOUT A BLOG. Hey, good news for you nine-to-fivers who are tryin' to kill time 'til happy hour: we have a new blog friend. Our nice cowboy band friends, the Rodeo, have a blog now. Only two posts, and the author (Mason. Remember Mason?) already fell and hurt himself. Here at Wine Lips, we call that good blogging.


9) EXHAUSTION. I think I have exhausted my supply of nonsense to blog about. Happy holidays, guys! Stay warm, eat pie!

Luv,
Bruce

Mr. Rochester!

First snow! Well, the first real snow. Here is how I know I'm really, for really real, back in the midwest.

I love it. I know I'll hate it by February, but shoot, I hate everything in February, so PFFFFFT. The bad thing is, it's hurting business 'cause the traffic is bad and no one wants to go out in it if they don't have to. They're all staying home wearing sweaters and drinking tea. Obviously they should be here buying yarn from me, right? Speaking of which, for those of you who are curious, the big opening went really well, and so far so good with the shop! Still, tell your friends, ok?

Here's the really big news for the day:

This morning I asked Matt, who was out "running errands," to bring me a coffee at the shop on his way home. So he comes inside, hands me the coffee, and says, "AND...I have an early Christmas present for you."

I said, "Early Christmas present?! Why, cause it's snowing?!"

Then he goes outside, and comes back in with........!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He is my early Christmas present and he is six weeks old and I named him Mr. Rochester, Chester for short. Tiny baby Chester! He is totally chill about not knowing what the hell is going on. Poor kid had been a lost stray momless baby, and then was living with a good Samaritan for a while, and the good Samaritan give him to Matt, and Matt took him to the vet, and the vet poked him and shined lights on him and stuck him with needles, and then Matt tied a ribbon on him and gave him to me, and I pawed at him and cuddled him and wouldn't put him down. So he has had a rough life so far. But he is sort of like "Whatever" about it. He's not asking for any special treatment. He's too cool for all y'all's nonsense. Mr. Rochester is a total badass despite weighing less than a hank of Cascade 220 and having a nerdy English literature name.

Sister and Lucy haven't met him yet. They are quarantined in the basement while he gets acclimated. Matt gave them tuna in an effort to make them associate Chester with delicious tuna.

Oh, hey, City of Columbus, I'd like to tell you that I've been sitting in my shop looking out my giant front windows at the street all day and you are doing a TERRIBLE JOB of keeping the roads clear. You're gettin' my goat here.


People keep sliding around and getting stuck, and I haven't seen a single snow plow. This is getting ridiculous! I mean jeeze, this is High Street. It's the first road you should plow. What the hell?

Hey, wear a scarf, guys, it's cold out there!

Bruce