these days of leiderhosen

Must have more sleep. On a regular basis. Yesterday I lost my last 4.5" metal hairpin, unavailable in the US. I now look like a potted fern. Or Richard Simmons. This is obviously a sign I need to go to Paris and find a pharmacy. The lovely Ana sent me a huge box of perfume samples (If you have not seen her blog Invisible Magnet , you must ; she writes brilliantly.) Some vials, some full sized untouched bottles all wrapped in the pink pages of the New York Observer. An amazing present, one of the bottles is, of all things, a full sized L'Artisian Patchoul i. Not being a huge patchouli freak, I had to sample. Hmmm....dangerous. It causes hallucinations of Indian tea, cashmere shawls and shadowy rooms like being trapped inside a jewelry box. It's like dressing up like someone else more exotic for a day. (Patchouli is a known Republican repellent.) Meow. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Darling Ana. The husband has the most delicious skin inside his elbows. He is taking it ...

If one picks up the hobby of spinning, mentioning this in even the lowest tone to the most reserved of friends can be disastrous to available storage. Huge balls of unidentifiable origin are abandoned on the doorstep daily with unsigned notes: "Hope you can use this!". My own stash of this nature started developing the moment I unwrapped my first drop spindle. So I have a 36x24x24 box of this generosity and in the attempted to gain control of my mess, it's gonna become yarn whether it wants to or not. The whole mess is less clean than I would like and full of vegetation bits (burrs, grass heads) that have to picked out mid-spin. After about two ounces, I am covered in grassy bits, unrefined lanolin, dirt and long bits of unspinable fiber. I smell like a sheep paddock on a hot day and then must bathe with dishwashing soap. It's ugly wool that will make ugly yarn that will make some fabulous felted slippers . I have made a least a dozen of these, most successful. ...

My beloved co-worker Nancy's hairdresser wasn't feeling well last week and somehow managed to wax Nancy's right eyebrow out of existence. And that's the side Miss Nancy parts her hair on. Little known fact, Gentle Audience: Like a any good simian, I am big on grooming other people. (We will NOT speak about the state of my own hair or hygiene) Notorious for carrying around a surprising quantity of face paint, there is nothing I like more than whipping out the hairspray on an unsuspecting co-worker and patting down their flyaways. So there's Nancita's sitting there in my office unevenly waxed, a whole empty forehead waiting for Leiderhosen to spring into action. Like a 8th grade delinquent with a can of spray paint, I am on her like white on rice. And the trouble begins. Five minutes and three products later her face is even better than it was, even when she did have a matching set of brows. I have been at touch up duty for almost two weeks now and can do a r...

Many apologies, Darlings. Minor breakdowns and bullshit, but we are not to bore you with the details. Now for Monday Early Morning Thoughts. If only this election were over already. The Dark Knight is quite the movie. Maybe actually two movies stuck together. Heath Ledger is quite good. Five preemie hats this weekend ( a new record!) Two alpaca, two white cotton, one mystery fiber. Steven goes into retreat next Saturday for a week. Must concoct plans to amuse myself. Eddie Izzard is possibly the most divinely delicious man alive. His show at the Orpheum was fantastic. I didn't even miss him being a bloke in a dress. I have a very furry tongue. Coffee does not improve the situation. Rather like having an old manky bathmat in one's mouth. The farmers' markets here are in full swing. If you asked for a singing lef6t-handed haddock, you'd have to choose between three vendors. My online pal Ms. Ordover is coming to town in September and has asked me to amuse her! Yes!!! T...

I went round and round on a topic last Saturday with someone: sexual preferences: sources, outcomes, society. Tiresomely 'round and 'round the assumption mulberry bush. Then there was a general discussion of prey . Why are the abused mostly women and children? Because, on the whole, they are smaller and thought to be easier to intimidate. Ask any woman. Ask anyone who has been a child what intimidation is. Why bother feigning shock? The whole discussion is bothering me enough to keep me up for a couple of nights. The spinning is going well, for the most part. I've been working on a couple "Orphan" skeins using bits and pieces from dyers (most pieces only a couple grams in some wild colorways) and then Navajo plying them all together. It's quite the experiment. In the end the studio will be less cluttered, I will have more bobbins/less wool and the cat will have to find another soft place to sleep. At the moment the most recent prepared wool is a mystery: it...

The Brilliant WNYC Radio Lab this week presents: Earworms (and their Cure) Listeners called in and sang their most heavily rotated earworms into the RadioLab message One gentleman sang Journey's Street Life perfectly on key and without music (which the host overlaid this post-production behind it. Very impressive.

Still sleepy with a funny taste in my mouth I need a haircut. Need a martini. McCain is just fucking frightening me. The brother Monkeyboy might have ripe apricots for me over the weekend. The self described Arab Democrat hippie homo yarn smuggler goes to TNNA where there was lots of yarn and the cream of the fiberistas crop. Security Heavies threatens any photo opportunities so he cartoons the entire episode . God, I love adore Franklin.