He's off to sail the seven seas

I have a new phone.  It's an iPhone.  I named him Arthur.  Since I'm horrible about charging my phones, remembering to charge two of them is beyond me.  Therefore, I'm giving up my company phone (I don't really need it anymore), and with it, retiring my beloved Blackbeardy phone cover.  

Before I do, I'm including the extremely basic and not-even-a-pattern-really pattern to make one for yourself.
Mostly, it's the chart for his face along with some simple construction notes.  You can figure it out.

Blackbeardy

From Laurie Ann

Yarn: any worsted or DK should do.
Gauge is 5 stitches per inch
Additional materials: one eye button, one small flap button or snap.
I totally made this up one day because I needed a cover for my new
Blackberry. There is no real pattern, but this is kind of how it went. I used
two colors so that the closing flap would look like hair. You can do it in one
color if you’d like.
Cast on 20 stitches
Knit in stockinette for 78 rows and cast off.
Using chart, duplicate stitch eye patch, good eye, moustache, mouth, and beard. The bold | in row 4 represents the buttonhole. I believe I used a YO method, but you can use whatever you’d like. The blue dot in the eye portion shows where to attach the eye button. You may also just embroider an iris or use a French knot.

Fold at row 48, so that WS rows are facing each other, and mattress stitch
the sides together, leaving 18 rows free. You should have a pocket with an 18 row flap.
Pop in your phone and close the flap. Make a note of where the buttonhole meets the back panel, and that’s where you attach the button. Mine is two rows from the cast off edge.
And, you’re off to pillage knowing yer phone is protected…arrrgh.

I have a PDF available if you're interested.  I couldn't figure out how to attach it here, so just leave me a note in the comments or something.

It does not cook good omelettes and stews

Remember some time last year when I took Sandy in for an oil change and left in a different car?  Well, guess what happened....again.

I took her in bright and early (10am--shut up, it's early for me), and there was already a wait time of an hour and a half.  "That's okay," I said, "I'll go down to Subway to grab a bite to eat."  So, I took a walk down to Lankershim, which was farther than I thought, but not too far, and got a sandwich.  I strolled back all leisurely.  One hour down, 30 minutes to go.  Those of you who follow me on Twitter know what happened next....

Four Hours Later!!!

I was knitting, so time kind of flew by, but my aching butt told me I'd been sitting too long, so I asked the nice gals at the cashier desk, "Can you check on the status of my car? It's been four hours for an oil change."  The girl told me "Oh, it looks like it's done.  Let me ask David."  David came out and told me that, yes, the oil change is done, but they found other things wrong.  Of course they did.  Something was rattling and something was leaking (I think the same thing from last year), and Oh, btw, you're going to need new front and back brakes to the tune of $299.99.  The leaking and rattling was covered under warranty, but not the brakes.  The brakes will have to wait.  Hopefully, with light pressure and careful driving, I can get away with waiting until March.  It sucks to be poor.  

So, David tells me he is going to set me up with a rental, free of charge, but the rental car guy is at lunch.  "Ten more minutes," he assured me.  "Thanks for being so patient."  I didn't tell him the patience was wearing thin.  Finally, rental car guy showed up and set me up with this sweet ride.

It's a red, red Rogue. I have named her Joni Mitchell*.   The arrows point to where the birds in my neighborhood have already dropped a load on her.  I'll have to wash that off before I return her.  

No fear of running over small children or animals with back up camera! 

She's got a sweet entertainment system, with XM  radio, although the "rock" station was playing Elvis, and not Costello. The Pop station was playing LMFAO.  I opted to connect my iPod. It's pretty sweet; you can control the iPod using the steering wheel controls, although it didn't quite get the whole Random setting and kept playing from the same album or repeating the same song.  Maybe I wasn't doing it right.

I only wish the iPod connection wasn't in the storage area, or that there was a notch cut into the lid to accommodate the cord.  It seems awfully inconvenient, especially if you wanted to store other things in there.


I won't bore you with more photos.  The cup holders are ample and shaped like the largest fast food cups, so the cup will fit perfectly.  The cockpit area is well lit, with easy to read dials.  And, she rides smooth.  It took me a second to get used to the size and height, but I adjusted quickly.  And she's got a sun roof...or a moon roof. Honestly, what's the difference?  It's a window in the roof that opens.  Jamie had one and I kind of miss that on beautiful days.  

Okay, one more photo.  This is the 101, as reflected in the building across from the dealership. Click to embiggen. It's pretty cool.

*Joni Mitchell's "California"  And while technically, the rogue was a man, cars are girls so she's Joni.

The calm before the storm

I'm got to the office just as the sun was cresting the tallest buildings on the LA skyline, which isn't really saying much, this being LA and there being earthquake restrictions on tall buildings and shit.  But, the sun was just coming up, y'all.  It's probably been a good two months since I've been awake for this event, let alone out of pajamas...and certainly not arriving at work.  In recent months, there have been some changes around the office and I no longer have a front door key.  But today, I'm opening the office instead of the usual gal and I have things to do before a meeting at 9:30.  Since I'll be sitting at the front desk at 8:00, early arrival it is. 

I'm sitting in my office and I realize that the time now is exactly twelve hours from the time I left last night. Aside from the presence of the cleaning crew, the office is exactly the same.  It's cold, even colder than usual, and so quiet.  I can hear the cars on the boulevard.  Someone just threw trash in the dumpster across the street. I heard the lid slam.  There's a quiet hum coming from the fluorescent lights that reminds me of "Joe vs. The Volcano."  A fax just came in.  It's probably an advertisement.  We get a lot of those.  I've already eaten my Cream of Wheat, which I usually don't eat until 9:30.  I'll be ready for lunch by 10 at this rate.

LA is hazy today.  I didn't notice that on the drive in. The clouds have a Simpsons opening look about them.  I can't see the Hollywood sign from my window yet. I'm sure it'll burn off by noonish.  I won't notice, though.  By then, I'll be knee deep in the hoopla, as the song says.  The quiet has been nice, though.  

Next time, I'll actually get some salsa and guacamole

My friend, Christina, eats gluten-free.  She's discovered her intolerance to gluten last June, so we're still kind of in the "finding things Christina can eat" stage, although she's pretty adapted to it now.  Last week, I bought a big package of corn tortillas at the 99cents store, only to remember that I'm not a fan of soft corn tortillas unless there's chicken or beef, onions, and cilantro tucked inside.  What's a girl to do?  Christina suggested I make my own corn chips and told me how she does it.  Here's how in case you're interested. 

1. Preheat oven to about 400-425.  
2. Cut corn tortillas into triangles (like a pizza) or in strips, if that suits your fancy.
3. Arrange on cookie sheet and lightly salt or season to taste.
4. Bake for 8-10 minutes, checking every couple of minutes.

Okay, so that was Christina's basic instructions.  Here are the things I did a little differently.

1. My oven knob doesn't have numbers anymore, so mine was actually at about 375, which worked just fine. It took a few minutes longer.
2. I did some of both, but prefer the triangles. It was easier to just take a stack of three or four and cut them quickly.
3. I lightly sprayed the sheet with butter-flavored Pam, arranged the triangles, then lightly sprayed again.  I used garlic salt and a McCormick herb blend intended for grilled chicken.
4. Lower temperature meant about 15 minutes of bake time.

The results: 

Oh. My. God. These were sooooo good.  I ate a bunch, then put the rest in a Ziploc bag with the intention of getting salsa at the store.  I never made it to the store, never got salsa, and yet, somehow the entire bag got devoured.  They are that good.  I may never buy mass-produced chips again. I can't wait to experiment with other flavors.  

Ready to face the day--or not

Yesterday morning, I lay in bed and literally watched time go by. I was snuggled under the blankets staring at my bedside clock watching the second hand tick off time, counting by fives in my head.  I watched for five minutes, perfectly still, before I realized how ridiculous it was to still be in bed at that hour (11:30) and to be actually watching time fly.  So I got up and made breakfast. 

As I was scrambling the eggs, I thought about when I was a child.  I used to wake up early as my dad was getting up for work, climb into his recently-vacated spot in bed, and snuggle up to my mom.  Mom, despite having five children, was not a morning person.  She did not want a squirmy, snuggly child in bed with her at 5 or 6am. She wanted to sleep for those last blessed minutes before she had to get up and tend to said children.  I, on the other hand, was happy to be snuggling with Mommy and wanted to chatter and play.  My parents bed had a headboard with secret compartments and sliding doors which held books and things.  Their clock radio had the flip numbers and a light on an arm that was fun to extend and retract.  With so many delights, how was I expected to lay still and go back to sleep.  Plus, there was Daddy coming and going from the bathroom, getting ready for work.  So much to do and see and talk about.  Mom would mumble, "Be still."  And I would be still...for about 30 seconds.  After many minutes of my squirming and chatting, and her repeated admonitions to "be still" and "just lie there and go back to sleep," Mom would have enough of it and send me packing, back to my bed, downstairs to watch TV, or just anywhere that wasn't in her bed.  And I would bound off to bug someone else (usually my sister).  

So, where did all that energy go?  Why can't I have that kind of enthusiasm to start the day when I really need it?  I am definitely not a morning person anymore.  Mom had the right idea--stay in bed as long as possible.  Still, boundless energy would be great now and then.

February can't come soon enough

I have a calendar in my bedroom. It was free from a promotional items company.  Here is the January artwork.

You get the idea. Name tags that tell your employees they did a good job.  Can you tell which one drives me absolutely crazy?  So crazy, in fact, that I almost took a Sharpie to it for my own satisfaction?  

The word "office" is so small that from across the room all I see is "I'm an rock star," and the bad grammar makes me want to scream.  Every day.  I find myself looking at it and saying, "No, you're an idiot."  Yes, I realize it's a calendar and can't talk back.  Yes, I get the concept.  I just think that particular one really should have been thought through a little more.  

[yes, I'm a little obsessive.]

And I didn't get a ticket

Monday and Tuesday are street cleaning days in my neighborhood.  Monday is my side of the street, that is, the side on which my house sits.  Tuesday is the business side of the street--the police side.  Now, I usually get Tuesday-side parking without a problem. This week, however, I was out on Sunday [kicking some trivia ass at Busby's West], and when I got home, no Tuesday-side parking was available.  I parked on the Monday-side and pondered what to do on MLK, Jr Day to get out of the area for three hours.  

Monday dawned and still I had no plan of action.  8:00am became 9:00, then 9:30 and street cleaning starts at 10!  Being a holiday, you'd think there'd be amnesty, but I've been burned before.  Plus the parking enforcers hate me. Finally, I remembered that I had milk bottles to return and a Wal-mart gift card to spend.  From the comfort of my bed, with the help of my iPhone, I mapped out a route that would take me to both places in a nice loop.  

So that's what I did. I spent an hour or so in Wal-mart spending my gift card, although they didn't have marshmallow fluff. I know! What's more white trash than marshmallow fluff?  *shrugs*  Off to Broguiere's Dairy.

I turned in four empty bottles and got a gallon of milk and $1.25 in return.  Not too shabby.  And it was a nice drive with not a lot of traffic on a beautiful day.  

When I returned home, it was five minutes until 1pm. I took a chance with the parking folks.  Plus, this guy was sitting on my lawn eating his lunch, which made me hungry.