There Are Some Things Wrong in the World

(This post was to have several wonderful photos....but, once again, Blogger has refused repeatedly to accept any photos whatsoever. Refused. Stomped its feet and held its breath and had a full-on head-banging hissy fit at the mere IDEA of accepting my photos. Oh....wait....the histrionics may have been mine......okay, yeah, they were. But Blogger started it.)

Things wrong in the world--next I’ll be telling you that the sun is hot, water is wet, and politicians are big heaping piles of dung. But seriously, as much as I love my life and love the world and think of myself as a very positive person, there are a few things that just don’t seem quite….right (I mean, other than the facts that yarn isn’t free, chocolate has calories, and sheep don’t make good housepets). For instance I just picked up the newest Vogue Knitting. In it is a pattern for a purple-y cabled sweater with short sleeves and a GIANT cabled bow made separately and plastered across the chest like an ugly purple bumper sticker(there would be a photo of it here--I have it in the computer and everything--but Blogger is evil). Now,I don’t dislike the cables….and the general shape of the sweater is okay….but, really. A giant, Minnie Mouse bow across my boobs? C’mon, designers. It would be so much less time-consuming and less costly to simply have a sign printed up reading “These are my huge breasts, please look at them” and wear it as a sandwich board. And it wouldn’t be so achingly cutesy.

Another wrong-ass thing: I read an article yesterday about absurd warnings on products, which mentioned that it all started with that woman who dumped hot coffee on herself….and sued because it was hot. I knew about that, of course. What I didn’t know was that she was the passenger in a car at the drive-thru, and that she wedged the cup in between her thighs (right up against her crotch for maximum pain potential) and opened the lid. At which point the driver, her grandson, stepped on the accelerator. Now, I don’t know about you, but if I was in the passenger seat (not in control of when the car is moving), at a drive-thru (the car will very clearly NEED to move), and in possession of any beverage either hot or cold, the very LAST thing I’d do would be to put it between my legs and take off the lid (the second-to-last thing I'd do would be to admit to it). What was she thinking? Next thing you know she’ll stop somewhere for a drink of water from a firehose and sue because the water came out fast. I don’t think a person should be able to sue anyone for their own stupidity. Unless they’re suing the person who dropped them on their head.

Okay, next rant. I also saw on the news that the democratic party has spent some $70,000 in this state on negative campaign ads—the kind that tell you all about the other guys bad habits, ex-girlfriends and hell, probably the results of his last prostate exam. The republicans spent $90,000. Neither of them spent more than $20,000 on ads that talked about why their own candidate SHOULD be elected. Which leads me to speculate (some might say this is a weakness of mine, this tendency to speculate on things that simply cause my brain to bend in weird ways): what if we all handled job interviews that way? Because that’s essentially what a campaign is, isn’t it? The candidates trying to convince us that they’re best for the job? What do you think—shall I try this technique when I do my interview to try to get into nursing school?

Interviewer: “So, Ms. Knitingale, why do you think you should get into our program?”
Me: “Did you know that the candidate you interviewed before me has at least three outstanding traffic tickets? And the one coming in after me? She never makes her bed, had to take statistics twice, and once I saw her wearing purple plaid pants.”
Interviewer: “Well….how are your grades?”
Me: “It’s a fact that 90% of my statistics class scored below 82% on three or more exams.”
Interviewer: “…um…..are you a hard worker?”
Me: “I have noticed classmates killing time in the lounge between classes every day. Is this how you want this class represented? I don’t think so.”

Yeah….that’d go over well. To tell you the truth, it’s easier to teach a cat to knit cables than it is to find out what any of the candidates actually stand for. A dumb cat.

Another totally wrong thing: a well-known televangelist has recently been caught with methamphetamine, which he purchased from a male prostitute with whom he was having a sexual relationship. Truly. And while he has admitted to the drug thing, he insists that he did not actually have sex with the man because he is not gay. The prostitute in question was the one who blew the whistle, saying that he was bothered by the hypocrisy. Now, John Stewart said last night on The Daily Show that it’s a bad thing when a male prostitute can take the moral high road over you and I’ll definitely buy that…..but for heaven’s sake. This man is willing to admit to criminal drug use—but not consensual sex just because people might think he’s gay??? It’s better to have people think you’re a junkie criminal than gay????? I’m not sure but I think I just felt a brain synapse burn out.

Oh, how about this one? I just checked the headlines and the fact that Brittney Spears just filed for divorce is big news. People actually care. There goes another synapse.

I have progress on Samus, and I even have pictures that I can't show you (see above for descriptions of Blogger's evil and ruthless nature....not that I'm bitter). I'm done with the body and about a third of a sleeve. I still love this sweater hugely, although I'm starting to need a small break from the unending green. The Vogue knitting, besides the Boob-Bow sweater, also has a pattern for a braided scarf that I crave. I'm trying hard to resist the urge to start it....you know, just a few rows. Not much. Just a little....greenness break. Just 4 inches or so...no one will ever know.....

I feel the urge for a warm mug of decaf coffee with peppermint-mocha-flavored creamer. I’m off to make one and then go curl up with a cat and some knitting. Perhaps she and I can work on those cables together. Oh, but don’t worry. I’ll write HOT on the mug in big, simple letters.