Another book, another ditched knitting project

One of the things I am learning about myself from the list, is my inability to complete tasks I am not that thrilled to do. Case in point - knitting projects. I will often start two or three projects and rip them out before I find one I really like and complete it. The mittens I had been working on, and by working on I mean started and then stuck in my knitting bag because I hated them, have been ripped out. Instead I am working on a super cool hat for myself with some absolutely beautiful yarn my friend Julia gave me for my birthday. I made the same hat for my sister for X-Mas and loved it. I hardly ever knit things for myself, and was whining yesterday about how I don't have a cool hat. Um duh. Knit one out of your super fab new yarn numbnuts. Yeah that's right, I called myself numbnuts. Pipe down or I will give you a knucklesandwich. Gee Whiz! Anyhow, on the needles - one fab hat.

Another thing I've discovered is that while scrabble is entertaining, it's not a great place to learn new words. Ok let me rephrase that it's not a good place to learn useful words, words I'm going to incorporate into my everyday life. Words like radome. What's a radome you ask? well, it's a dome like shell used to house radio equipment. Yeah, I will use that probably as much as I use Vang - which I had hoped had something to do with Vampires, a subject that comes up quite often in my interaction with friends and family, for real. But alas no. Vang is some sort of rope on a sailboat. Boring. I'm not even going to count them. SO there boring words! Take that!

You may have noticed that I have given away 3 things. Technically it's a lot more than 3, but again, I'm a bad ass so I used restraint. I gave away a huge pile of magazines. But wait you say, a huge pile of magazines, isn't that garbage? Uh, no. Magazines are thin little books full of useful information to be hoarded and piled around the house. I gave away good stuff - Vanity Fair! Martha Stewart - the Thanksgiving Issue no less. OK, thing 2 - bag of Maggie's shoes that don't fit. There were probably 5 pair in there. Again, good stuff. Anyone with a kid knows you are lucky if their shoes last you I dunno 4 months? And finally thing 3 - a bag of plastic knitting needles. I have finally decided that just because someone - aka my grandmother - gives me something doesn't mean I am destined to keep it for all eternity, especially if it's something I don't like and won't use. Like say, a dozen pair of of plastic knitting needles. I donated these needles to the thrift store in Edgecomb located in the bottom of the church. Now I am very tempted not to count this donation because well, the whole purpose of getting rid of stuff is to reduce the amount of clutter in my house, but it just so happens that yesterday they were having a bag sale. If you are unfamiliar with thrift store bag sales, it's not actual bags that are on sale - you buy a bag for one dollar and fit as much crap in it as you can. Let's just say I spent two dollars. I bought every single wool sweater they had. Which I recycle and use for craft projects. I'm still going to count the needles though.

I just read a really fun book by Candace Bushnell, who unless you live in a cave - or are a man - probably know wrote Sex and the City. This is how chic lit should be written. Recently I read a few chic lit books, let's see I guess the best way to describe chic lit is - "classy" romance novels, think The Devil Wears Prada, - yes this was a horribly written book before it hit Hollywood. As some of you probably remember I was actually pissed off when I finished that book because it sucked and was a best seller, two thing that when combined stir me into a frenzy of whining and bitching and "why not me's?????" and I called you to share the joy. Anyhow I am usually painfully disappointed by chic lit books with their horrible writing, predictable story lines and stock characters - think spunky young upstart from nowhere lands in the big city, taken advantage of by mean rich dude, turns her nose up at cute working class guy, compromises her values only to find out she's an idiot, hooks up with cute poor guy only to find out that he's a rich kid who wants to pay his dues, the book ends with them snuggling in a B&B or kissing in the rain. That right there is the plot to about 90% of chic lit novels, if not all of them. Anyhow most of them get a poop sandwich. But not Ms. Bushnell, she is like the holy grail of chic lit writers, in fact I don't know if she's even in the same category because I think she sort of invented the genre. I read Trading Up, which is about the inner workings of the New York social scene, and this crazy bitchy model with very few redeeming qualities. This book had no heroine, which is a bold move. You didn't so much as cheer for the main character as you wondered what cringe worthy thing she would do next, but kept reading because it was just so good. Also, the writing was excellent. Not dumbed down, not cleaned up, did not insult my intelligence yet it was an quick read and I finished it in 2 days. Trading Up gets a Double Woot!

Yes, I'm aware I have yet to post pics OR add my list of birds. I'll get to it.