Hipster Hat Wearer

The other day, the baby and I had to drive the teenagers back to their college campus, after the long Thanksgiving break.  On the way back, we stopped at Panera Bread.  For those of you who have a Panera on every corner (suck it, Atlantans), this is a major big deal for us because we haven't had a Panera here, ever, and it's now in Covington, which is only like 20 miles away.  

The baby didn't even know what to expect.  "Do they have bread?"  Um, yes.  That's why the name of the restaurant includes the word "bread."  He ordered a grilled cheese.  Then he said that it was the best grilled cheese that he has ever had, and only God could make a better grilled cheese.  I'm in agreement about the power of the Panera.  I am not sure even God has that much power.

We were both more or less wearing our pajamas for this run to the Panera.  So inappropriate.

In other news, I've been, as usual, busy with yarn.  I made some shit.  I even got someone to pay me for one of the things that I made.  As if.  I bet they were disappointed, but fuck that.  Not my problem.

I like hats, you know, the big slouchy hats that hipsters wear?  I wanted one.  So I made one.  It is too big.

I'm so fly that it hurts, sometimes.

Anyway, I convinced myself that it was fine, and I wore it one day.  To work.  Because I could.

But just because you CAN wear something, doesn't mean that you SHOULD.

Case in point:

Said hat is in the mail, now.  On its way to a new home.  With someone who is actually young enough to truly be a hipster.

So I'm knitting another one.

Laughing Hyena, Quite Frankly

1.  It's beginning to get cold here, by which I mean, in the fifties.  Make no mistake, I understand that, where you live, that might be summer weather, but fuck that shit.  I choose to live here.  And I don't have central heat.  Wherein, I must admit that I like to snuggle closer and closer into the fireplace, so that I can possibly set my (tiny, nearly non-existent) ass on fire.  Happy winter!  

2. I don't want to say why, but it's possible that I was trying to text one of my friends, we'll say it was Melissa (because it was) about this made-for-bbc-television version of The Diary of Anne Frank, that I watched, and in said version, Anne was a little pervy, and thus I needed to use the word "masterbation."

Look, I recognize that this is not an oft-texted word, particularly in context.  I have noticed that Siri will change my "fuck" to "duck" or even "guck" if I use it in the same text which talks about knitting.  "Surely no knitter would say, 'fuck,'" Siri must think.  "Surely she means, 'guck.'".  No, goddammit, Siri, I do not mean guck.  I mean, WHO uses the word "guck"?

But anyway.  Siri would NOT let me type masterbation.  Master Nation, she said.  Master Nation Master Nation Master Bastion Master Nation.

I can't tell you why I found this so funny, but I did.  I mean, it's half-nazi-reminiscent, as in "master nation of aryans," I guess, but I really was just trying to describe how weird it was to watch Anne Frank feel herself up.  I mean, is that too much to ask?

3.  You all know how I voted.  And I managed to survive the whole entire political season by ignoring ridiculous facebook messages from my more conservative friends.  People really do have the right to think/believe/vote for whatever they want.  I really am behind that.  On Wednesday, this lady (whose name I'm not even going to try to pixelate, because she obviously doesn't deserve that kind of courtesy from a free-loader like myself) posted this, and I TOTALLY lost my shit about it:

 Bitch.

4.  Mardi Gras is just around the corner, and I found a pattern to make these, so BELIEVE YOU ME, I'm making like 10 pair.  I want everyone I know to be wearing this on Mardi Gras, minus the cancer-awareness ribbons.  Especially the dudes.

5.  My sweet little baby is so literal.  I'm certain that the teacher didn't expect "toylot papre," but I also bet this is one of those things that they keep forever in some file called "funny shit the students wrote."

Civic Minded, Racially Sensitive Former Pirate Whore Monsterknockers

There has been a request for pictures of the Pirate Whore Monsterknockers, so I'll accommodate that first and foremost:

I'm the one in the middle.  GOD DAMN we are some cute girls.

Anyway.  My friend Melissa who happens to be gifted with the picture-taking-skillz also took a full-on boudoir shot of me, and I look like a whore, but I don't even care, it's a pretty picture:

New Orleans was a bad-ish night for me, way too crowded and my phone was STOLEN FROM MY PURSE, but haha, fuckers, it was an iPhone 3GS, so it cost me like 99 cents.  I mean come on.  And too, I ended up with drunky girls and I was pretty sober, so that's a downer.  BUT, I didn't lose my panties, so we'll still call that one a win.

We revisited the costume on Halloween, as one ought, and even though the baby was tired, I like this one, too.  Far less whorey.

 Today is election day, in other news, and I took the baby to go and vote, so he could see how it works.  He was interested in reading the ballot (out loud), and I had to suggest that he not, as it is a) nobody's business for whom I vote, and b) I live in an extremely conservative little corner of an extremely conservative little town, so I thought it was possible that I might get my tires slashed if my liberalness was broadcasted.

Awesome.

My tires are intact.

Anyway, so there you have it.  I voted, again, for a minority because I think his opinions match mine closer than that of the guy who appears to look more like the people where I live.  Primarily because I'm too tall to fit in a binder.

His minority-ness really has absolutely nothing to do with anything, but I mention it because the baby and I were talking about racial equality the other day, and he said that he knew what I was talking about.  "I can give you an ezample," he said.  "Okay," I said, "go for it."

"Well, I'm white," he said, "but Yaya is black."

um.  Yaya is his name for Beanie, my older son.  The one who is half Greek, half me, so...

Not really black.  More like olive.  But who's counting.

The little person is much whiter than we are, although he has got some mad moves, and the Bean doesn't, so based on this assessment, he's got it backwards.  However, I enjoy having one black kid, one white kid.  I have since referred to Beanie as my black son.  Boom.

Note:  I kind of wish I did have a baby that is either African-American or bi-racial.  They are so freaking gorgeous.  Just saying.  Similarly, I wish I did have one baby that was a girl child, because I'd like to name her Virginia but call her VaJayJay.

Anyway, so we expressed our civic duty, and I was super pissed/disappointed that they were out of stickers, I mean, come ON, so when I got to work, I made one for myself.  Because THAT is how I like to stick it to the man.

Well, that, and blogging...