Leaving on a Jet Plane
This is the ex-Möbius strip—now a fully fledged Cold Weather Hat. I finished it up late this morning after devoting most of yesterday afternoon to it. It turned out pretty well, all things considered (e.g., the Möbius debacle), although I wouldn’t recommend that anyone scrutinize the crown too closely. Luckily, the nubbly yarn is forgiving and hides any number of boo-boos.
Of course, when I spoke to my sister (in Chicago) this morning she told me temperatures were in the 40s and that I wouldn’t need to bring the hat. Ha! Who does she think she’s talking to? And what is she thinking? She knows as well as I that the temperature could plunge to less than zero at any moment. I am taking the ding-dong hat, and I know I will be grateful to have it! If nothing else, this hat is toasty—so toasty, in fact, that here in Portland I could barely stand to have it on my head for more than a minute. It will be perfect for Chicago temperatures and windchills.
I spent much of the afternoon dicking around with a professional-quality DAT tape recorder and microphone that I for some reason own but never use. I spent a good 20 minutes with the mike plugged into the headphone jack and vice versa, completely baffled. After figuring that brain bender out, I could only get it to record intermittently and crappily—the playback sounded like a tone arm being scraped over an antique 78 LP. I feared the mike was shot, which would mean no interview with my dad. I’m totally psyched about doing that interview now, so I was getting pretty bummed out (and annoyed). Then I discovered (after about an hour of troubleshooting) that the tapes I was using were duds. What a lot of time down the crapper, though. Why is it that things like this—thinking I’m just going to spend 10 minutes refreshing my memory about how to use the tape recorder—always take 200 times longer than I think they will?
I guess the bathroom isn’t going to get cleaned before I leave tomorrow. It will be interesting to see the state of it when I get back. B usually makes some attempt to clean when I’m gone, which is very sweet and I do appreciate it...but how shall I put it? He finds rather unorthodox and original uses for the cleaning products, e.g., Comet cleanser gets used on the kitchen counters and he goes hog wild with the bleach in the bathroom. I think he uses it on every surface. Maybe even the mirrors. But at least it leaves no doubt in my mind that the bathroom is sanitized for our protection.
I have my reading material for the plane in order—nothing that requires any real brainwork, as my brain turns into lump of jelly while it is airborne. Here’s what I’m taking: Live from New York: An Uncensored History of Saturday Night Live and Yoga for People Who Can’t Be Bothered to Do It, which must have been written specifically with me in mind—just kidding. It's actually a collection of short stories and essays—not a yoga book for extra-lazy people, although I think such a book would probably sell briskly.
Back on the 29th unless I turn into a permanent popsicle.
Of course, when I spoke to my sister (in Chicago) this morning she told me temperatures were in the 40s and that I wouldn’t need to bring the hat. Ha! Who does she think she’s talking to? And what is she thinking? She knows as well as I that the temperature could plunge to less than zero at any moment. I am taking the ding-dong hat, and I know I will be grateful to have it! If nothing else, this hat is toasty—so toasty, in fact, that here in Portland I could barely stand to have it on my head for more than a minute. It will be perfect for Chicago temperatures and windchills.
I spent much of the afternoon dicking around with a professional-quality DAT tape recorder and microphone that I for some reason own but never use. I spent a good 20 minutes with the mike plugged into the headphone jack and vice versa, completely baffled. After figuring that brain bender out, I could only get it to record intermittently and crappily—the playback sounded like a tone arm being scraped over an antique 78 LP. I feared the mike was shot, which would mean no interview with my dad. I’m totally psyched about doing that interview now, so I was getting pretty bummed out (and annoyed). Then I discovered (after about an hour of troubleshooting) that the tapes I was using were duds. What a lot of time down the crapper, though. Why is it that things like this—thinking I’m just going to spend 10 minutes refreshing my memory about how to use the tape recorder—always take 200 times longer than I think they will?
I guess the bathroom isn’t going to get cleaned before I leave tomorrow. It will be interesting to see the state of it when I get back. B usually makes some attempt to clean when I’m gone, which is very sweet and I do appreciate it...but how shall I put it? He finds rather unorthodox and original uses for the cleaning products, e.g., Comet cleanser gets used on the kitchen counters and he goes hog wild with the bleach in the bathroom. I think he uses it on every surface. Maybe even the mirrors. But at least it leaves no doubt in my mind that the bathroom is sanitized for our protection.
I have my reading material for the plane in order—nothing that requires any real brainwork, as my brain turns into lump of jelly while it is airborne. Here’s what I’m taking: Live from New York: An Uncensored History of Saturday Night Live and Yoga for People Who Can’t Be Bothered to Do It, which must have been written specifically with me in mind—just kidding. It's actually a collection of short stories and essays—not a yoga book for extra-lazy people, although I think such a book would probably sell briskly.
Back on the 29th unless I turn into a permanent popsicle.
posted by Rozanne at 8:33 PM
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