(Look. I know you guys are all, "Where the eff is post 999 and 1,000 and what is the BIG HUGE THING NEWS? and all that.
I know.
I want to tell you.
All in good time.
Meanwhile, post 999 is in the capable hands of SUPER SECRET GUEST POSTER and I'm tweeting daily BIG HUGE THING NEWS hints.
So, if you don't already follow me on Twitter, I'm @finnyknits. My daily hints are tagged #BIGHUGETHINGNEWS.
If you hate Twitter with the fury and soul-melting heat of a thousand fiery suns and won't be talked into such behavior even to get a glimpse at shoddy photos taken with my phone and obscure references to subjects that I'll cover in the future after the BIG HUGE THING NEWS is announced, well, OK.
I mean, do whatever you like, really. I'm not here to plug Twitter. They're just a company with a bird logo.
So, there you go. A little something to hold you over.
Now SHHH! You didn't see me here.)
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Not post 999
Hey friends - just a little hello to say that, while this is not post 999 and I am not your SUPER SECRET GUEST POSTER (even though that'd be kinda funny to be all, "Hey! Surprise! Your super secret guest poster is me after all this HA HA HA. Sorry."), the SUPER SECRET GUEST POSTER will be ready with your post soon and just to ensure that this person can post whenever they are ready, I'm actually going to send them the invite to the blog right now.
Freaks me out a little to give open access to someone to just post whatever they want especially since this person knows more about me than probably me and my mom put together, but I'm doing it.
For you.
You're welcome.
But I'm also doing it for me (which is my main reason for doing most things) because I really want to get post 1,000 and the BIG HUGE THING NEWS out into the world so that you can all judge me and then get over it and then get INTO it and then hang out with me while I go headlong into the BIG HUGE THING NEWS that I promise you is not that I'm pregnant.
Let me repeat that for those of you who don't read run on sentences like that last one -
I AM NOT PREGNANT.
THAT IS NOT THE BIG HUGE THING NEWS.
SO JUST SHUT IT ALL UP.
However, SUPER SECRET GUEST POSTER is a busy person who is, right now, trying to accomplish many things and keep many balls in the air and with very little sleep, so I'm trying not to pester this person with WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO DO POST 999 because they might snap.
And I don't want that kind of snappage because yikes.
So, soon, my friends.
And then after post 1,000 will be a string of posts about all the shit I've been drafting but not posting and none of it will make sense anymore, but I'll still post it because why the hell not, right?
Also, I have 500 new pets as of today and you can just sit and think about what that may be because I'll post something about it AP1K.
Where AP1K = After Post 1,000.
Get it?
I thought you would.
Freaks me out a little to give open access to someone to just post whatever they want especially since this person knows more about me than probably me and my mom put together, but I'm doing it.
For you.
You're welcome.
But I'm also doing it for me (which is my main reason for doing most things) because I really want to get post 1,000 and the BIG HUGE THING NEWS out into the world so that you can all judge me and then get over it and then get INTO it and then hang out with me while I go headlong into the BIG HUGE THING NEWS that I promise you is not that I'm pregnant.
Let me repeat that for those of you who don't read run on sentences like that last one -
I AM NOT PREGNANT.
THAT IS NOT THE BIG HUGE THING NEWS.
SO JUST SHUT IT ALL UP.
However, SUPER SECRET GUEST POSTER is a busy person who is, right now, trying to accomplish many things and keep many balls in the air and with very little sleep, so I'm trying not to pester this person with WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO DO POST 999 because they might snap.
And I don't want that kind of snappage because yikes.
So, soon, my friends.
And then after post 1,000 will be a string of posts about all the shit I've been drafting but not posting and none of it will make sense anymore, but I'll still post it because why the hell not, right?
Also, I have 500 new pets as of today and you can just sit and think about what that may be because I'll post something about it AP1K.
Where AP1K = After Post 1,000.
Get it?
I thought you would.
Friday, August 10, 2012
998 questions and a bitch ain't one.
So...um...I guess I owe you guys some answers.
Because when I said you could ask me anything - you really didn't hold back.
Which, obviously because you guys are you guys.
Well done, you guys.
Let's get down to it then. So that we can get to the Super Special Secret Guest Post 999 and then the BIG HUGE THING NEWS on post 1,000. Also, there's a prize on that post. A Finny type prize. Which you can take to mean whatever you want.
For those questions though...
Am I still knitting?
Um, sometimes. OK, no. More like, rarely. OK - truth, truth - annually. I have a sweater that I started two years ago and I've picked it up once each year since. I'm now an annual knitter. Don't tell the blog header.
How come you don't have air conditioning?
Because we live in a house that would be better described as a sieve. In our >1,000 square foot house we have 17 windows. Seriously. That's the actual number I came up with when I walked from tiny room to tiny room counting on my fingers and toes.
I nearly ran out of fingers and toes!
In a house the size of my shoe!
Ridiculous.
Um, how do you know when green tomatoes ripe?
Because they are soft when you squeeze them and smell like a ripe tomato. Also, they taste like a ripe tomato, so just pick one that feels/smells about right and taste it. If it's ripe - YAY. If it's not - BOO.
What ever happened to the Ugly Librarian Sweater?
It has been hanging in my closet ever since that post went live from shame. As soon as I admitted it was Ugly, I haven't been able to wear it. I'm very vain and self-involved, in case you'd somehow missed that.
If you missed that somehow, wake the fuck up.
How come Bubba and I don't have any kids...
Because this.
How is that front yard meadow is working out...
Eh, it's OK. I mean, it's the summer so it's not all WOO! like in spring time, but it looks just like our golden hillsides in this golden state which is to say the meadow is golden. AKA it looks like it's dead and that we are neglectful homeowners.
I'll be working out some of the kinks in the meadow this fall so that it looks less like "Um, does anyone live here?" next summer and fall than it does now.
Do you even knit anymore?
See above.
How I decided that sewing as a profession wasn't for me...
Yeah, so remember when I made the Not Ugly Car Trash Bag? Yeah. Well, I put it up on Etsy for a while and offered my services for a price. Like, I'd sew you a custom Not Ugly Car Trash Bag for some price (I can't even remember now how much) and then *gasp* someone wanted me to make it for that price.
Actually, I should say that they wanted me to make a dozen of them for that price. For some event they were having that involved hair dryers, a corporate promotion and the Hamptons.
In a week's time.
And because I don't know how to manage my time but I do know how to piss it away, I told them I'd do it and then I spent every non-work waking hour fulfilling my obligations.
Then, after I'd fulfilled my obligation and resumed normal sleeping hours, I swore I'd never do it again because LOATHE.
My sewing machine and I did not get along well during our inseparable time together and I'll tell you right now that it is only because I WILL NOT WELSH ON A PROMISE that I did not spike that soul crushing machine on my dining room floor.
Also because my dining room floor could likely have not taken that kind of impact.
But really, it was about the fact that I needed that machine so that I wouldn't disappoint this person/company to whom I had made this promise and so I did not get all Office Space on its ass even though it sooooooooooooorely deserved it.
Sunuvabithing machine that breaks needles going through quilter's cotton COME ON.
What ever happened to all that crap you wrote for NaNoWriMo?
Well, firstly you're right to call it crap. Because it was. And - HEY HEY - it still is because I have not gone back to edit a single word of it. Any of the three years I've done it.
That's right. Three years in a row I wrote 50,000+ words in the month of November for NaNoWriMo and have done dick with the results.
Nothing.
They're all sitting on my laptop in Scrivener gathering dust and my growing hatred.
They're all unwashed garbage unfit even for my compost bin.
Sure, they might be something if I cared one big rat's behind to go in and edit them, but I have bigger tastier fish to fry about now and all of those words can just sit there being the awkwardly constructed sentences and the plot holes that they are until such time as I see fit to pick them apart and reconstruct them into completely different sentences and plot holes.
Maybe.
One day.
Doesn't mean I won't go at NaNoWriMo again this November. And it also doesn't mean that this year's NaNoWriMo 50,000 words won't be the same variety of horseshit. But it probably means that this year's words will end up a similar looking pile which I will ignore forever.
Also, no you may not read any of it. Because I'm pretty sure it's not even written in English or a modern language any of us understand.
Just come to this blog for proof of that fact.
Ever think of cleaning up that language?
Fuck that.
Don't you think you're becoming an alcoholic?
Probably. It's my most effective coping mechanism, so coping with that realization has had unfortunate results. I am keeping it mostly in check though, so please don't alert the authorities or my mother.
You're shaving your heads and moving to Nepal for a year.
No and no.
When are we going to play?
Checkers? Scramble on the cell phone? Hopscotch? Name that tune? I don't know. Email me at finnyknitsATgmailDOTcom and, when we're in the same hood, maybe we'll work something out. Meanwhile, if you do play Scramble on the cell phone, my username is finnyknits (shocker) and I do want to play. So there.
Who gets invited to your fantasy dinner party?
People who like whatever I happen to be cooking that night, clean up after themselves, bring booze, like dogs and don't mind eating outside because our dining room is small.
I don't really have fantasies about dinner parties at my house because, frankly, the idea of it stresses me out.
Honestly, I'd just like to have over people I already know so that there's no pressure to remember names or cater to anyone's bullshit dietary needs.
Whose singing voice do you wish you had?
Pretty much anyone's but my own. I am a terrible singer. It's awful, really. Not that it stops me from singing - I totally sing - but I get mean looks and people throw trash at me, so I try to keep the public singing to a minumum.
What would you title your autobiography?
I'm not for everyone.
What top ten CDs can't you live without?
I don't think I've handled a CD in years, but I'll play ball. Though I'm going to go with artists because I can never choose one album over another. That's a job for someone like Bubba who knows music better than I.
FYI: I don't know dick about music. Bubba's been trying to educate me for years by asking me "Hey, name the band!" when something's playing on the loudspeaker somewhere. I never know the band. Literally, not ever. Even if it's the Rolling Stones.
OK, maybe once I got it when it was AC/DC, but it's a super rare occasion. To the point where Bubba will look visibly relieved that there's evidence that his wife may not be a total music retard.
The fact is that I mostly just like genres of music rather than particular artists. And I can always tell you the genre I'm in the mood for.
Like, when Bubba asks me what I want to listen to, I'll say something like, "Oh! Something doodly-doo!" which falls into the jam band genre or "Lady jazz!" which means, well, vocal jazz or "WAAAAAAAAA" which means hard rock (I think the genre is technically called ScreamO, but that's lame sounding. Instead we call it WAAAAAA because that's the sound they make when they "sing".)
I mostly like Doodly-doo, Lady Jazz and WAAAAAAAAA.
You get it? Kinda.
Best I know how to describe my fucked up music taste is to say that I know the sounds I like and these people make those sounds.
(in no particular order)
What are your phobias?
Failure.
Arriving at my death bed regretting not having done things that I TOTALLY could have done but didn't do because I was lazy or afraid.
Grasshoppers. They jump at your face and that is wrong.
Horses. They have enormous teeth that could totally bite your face off.
Chimpanzees. Because they ripped some girl's face off.
I think I have a face issue. Maybe I have a face phobia? No. That makes no sense.
Who is a real hero in your way of thinking?
Anyone who makes their own way in the world rather than adhering to the norm.
People whose default setting is optimism and positivity.
What Olympic sport would you chose to medal in?
The biathlon. It's the coolest of the Olympic sports. Or maybe the high dive. That shit is just amazing. Also, I'd like to know that no matter how high the dive, I wouldn't belly flop because OW.
Were you born in the wrong century?
Probably. A future century where all my beefs with our current century have been sorted out and we all have jet packs fueled by something biodegradable like religious evangelists' limbs.
Can you tango?
Nope.
What's the worst thing you've ever tasted?
Grilled beef liver. Thought it was a small piece of steak. Was tragically wrong. Had to spit it out on the ground.
The dog liked it though.
What's the best?
Warm Brandywine tomatoes fresh off of my plants.
Do you believe in ghosts?
Eh. Not in any real way.
Who among your friends do you admire the most and why?
I don't really admire one over the others, but of close friends, I admire certain things about each of them THE MOST of anyone I know.
Does that make sense?
Like, Kelli's dedication to writing and her bravery for moving to a new place for the sake of pursuing her own happiness.
And Shelley's bravery for moving to a new country - TWICE - in pursuit of her own happiness.
What book do you wish you had written?
Winterdance. Which would mean that I would have raced in the Iditarod. Which would be incredible.
What movie will you watch every time it's on no matter how many times you've seen it?
Who did you lose your virginity to and how?
Some dude. In the normal way.
Do you believe in god?
No.
If you had to swap lives with a friend for a month whose life would you choose?
My friend Christine who's living in Paris right now. She just spent a year in Zurich and that's just awesome.
What food or beverage have you always wanted to try but haven't?
I've always wanted to eat at the French Laundry, but haven't had the chance yet. I've also wanted to try durian because I imagine it's tragically bad and I want to know *just how bad*. Or, as the case sometimes is with things that *everyone* says is awful - *just how great*.
Why do you run?
Because this.
Where does the name "Finny" come from?
From here.
What language would you like to speak fluently?
Italian and Spanish. I'm much closer on Spanish, but I haven't spent as much time with Italian because of my one million other hobbies.
Actually, fuck that shit, I'd rather be able to speak Greek. Or Japanese. Or Arabic. Or Pashto. Or something that would completely freak people out to hear me - a blondish American girl - speaking fluently.
What celebrity do you have a crush on?
John Cusak. Matt Damon. Renee Russo. The Rock. Pierce Brosnan. Nicole Kidman. Mike Rowe. Val Kilmer. Johnny Knoxville.
Have you ever been arrested?
Yep.
Because when I said you could ask me anything - you really didn't hold back.
Which, obviously because you guys are you guys.
Well done, you guys.
Let's get down to it then. So that we can get to the Super Special Secret Guest Post 999 and then the BIG HUGE THING NEWS on post 1,000. Also, there's a prize on that post. A Finny type prize. Which you can take to mean whatever you want.
For those questions though...
Am I still knitting?
Um, sometimes. OK, no. More like, rarely. OK - truth, truth - annually. I have a sweater that I started two years ago and I've picked it up once each year since. I'm now an annual knitter. Don't tell the blog header.
How come you don't have air conditioning?
Because we live in a house that would be better described as a sieve. In our >1,000 square foot house we have 17 windows. Seriously. That's the actual number I came up with when I walked from tiny room to tiny room counting on my fingers and toes.
I nearly ran out of fingers and toes!
In a house the size of my shoe!
Ridiculous.
Best parts are that one of those windows is in a closet and that NONE of them close securely. That means that we have sweaters with a view of our neighbor's driveway AND that air conditioning our house wouldn't so much be like air conditioning our house as it would be like air conditioning AROUND our house which is, No.
Because they are soft when you squeeze them and smell like a ripe tomato. Also, they taste like a ripe tomato, so just pick one that feels/smells about right and taste it. If it's ripe - YAY. If it's not - BOO.
What ever happened to the Ugly Librarian Sweater?
It has been hanging in my closet ever since that post went live from shame. As soon as I admitted it was Ugly, I haven't been able to wear it. I'm very vain and self-involved, in case you'd somehow missed that.
If you missed that somehow, wake the fuck up.
How come Bubba and I don't have any kids...
Because this.
How is that front yard meadow is working out...
Eh, it's OK. I mean, it's the summer so it's not all WOO! like in spring time, but it looks just like our golden hillsides in this golden state which is to say the meadow is golden. AKA it looks like it's dead and that we are neglectful homeowners.
I'll be working out some of the kinks in the meadow this fall so that it looks less like "Um, does anyone live here?" next summer and fall than it does now.
Do you even knit anymore?
See above.
How I decided that sewing as a profession wasn't for me...
Yeah, so remember when I made the Not Ugly Car Trash Bag? Yeah. Well, I put it up on Etsy for a while and offered my services for a price. Like, I'd sew you a custom Not Ugly Car Trash Bag for some price (I can't even remember now how much) and then *gasp* someone wanted me to make it for that price.
Actually, I should say that they wanted me to make a dozen of them for that price. For some event they were having that involved hair dryers, a corporate promotion and the Hamptons.
In a week's time.
And because I don't know how to manage my time but I do know how to piss it away, I told them I'd do it and then I spent every non-work waking hour fulfilling my obligations.
Then, after I'd fulfilled my obligation and resumed normal sleeping hours, I swore I'd never do it again because LOATHE.
My sewing machine and I did not get along well during our inseparable time together and I'll tell you right now that it is only because I WILL NOT WELSH ON A PROMISE that I did not spike that soul crushing machine on my dining room floor.
Also because my dining room floor could likely have not taken that kind of impact.
But really, it was about the fact that I needed that machine so that I wouldn't disappoint this person/company to whom I had made this promise and so I did not get all Office Space on its ass even though it sooooooooooooorely deserved it.
Sunuvabithing machine that breaks needles going through quilter's cotton COME ON.
What ever happened to all that crap you wrote for NaNoWriMo?
Well, firstly you're right to call it crap. Because it was. And - HEY HEY - it still is because I have not gone back to edit a single word of it. Any of the three years I've done it.
That's right. Three years in a row I wrote 50,000+ words in the month of November for NaNoWriMo and have done dick with the results.
Nothing.
They're all sitting on my laptop in Scrivener gathering dust and my growing hatred.
They're all unwashed garbage unfit even for my compost bin.
Sure, they might be something if I cared one big rat's behind to go in and edit them, but I have bigger tastier fish to fry about now and all of those words can just sit there being the awkwardly constructed sentences and the plot holes that they are until such time as I see fit to pick them apart and reconstruct them into completely different sentences and plot holes.
Maybe.
One day.
Doesn't mean I won't go at NaNoWriMo again this November. And it also doesn't mean that this year's NaNoWriMo 50,000 words won't be the same variety of horseshit. But it probably means that this year's words will end up a similar looking pile which I will ignore forever.
Also, no you may not read any of it. Because I'm pretty sure it's not even written in English or a modern language any of us understand.
Just come to this blog for proof of that fact.
Ever think of cleaning up that language?
Fuck that.
Don't you think you're becoming an alcoholic?
Probably. It's my most effective coping mechanism, so coping with that realization has had unfortunate results. I am keeping it mostly in check though, so please don't alert the authorities or my mother.
You're shaving your heads and moving to Nepal for a year.
No and no.
When are we going to play?
Checkers? Scramble on the cell phone? Hopscotch? Name that tune? I don't know. Email me at finnyknitsATgmailDOTcom and, when we're in the same hood, maybe we'll work something out. Meanwhile, if you do play Scramble on the cell phone, my username is finnyknits (shocker) and I do want to play. So there.
Who gets invited to your fantasy dinner party?
People who like whatever I happen to be cooking that night, clean up after themselves, bring booze, like dogs and don't mind eating outside because our dining room is small.
I don't really have fantasies about dinner parties at my house because, frankly, the idea of it stresses me out.
Honestly, I'd just like to have over people I already know so that there's no pressure to remember names or cater to anyone's bullshit dietary needs.
Whose singing voice do you wish you had?
Pretty much anyone's but my own. I am a terrible singer. It's awful, really. Not that it stops me from singing - I totally sing - but I get mean looks and people throw trash at me, so I try to keep the public singing to a minumum.
I guess if I could choose, I'd have Billie Holliday's singing voice. She is one of my favorite singers and her voice is unequaled in the world today.
I'm not for everyone.
What top ten CDs can't you live without?
I don't think I've handled a CD in years, but I'll play ball. Though I'm going to go with artists because I can never choose one album over another. That's a job for someone like Bubba who knows music better than I.
FYI: I don't know dick about music. Bubba's been trying to educate me for years by asking me "Hey, name the band!" when something's playing on the loudspeaker somewhere. I never know the band. Literally, not ever. Even if it's the Rolling Stones.
OK, maybe once I got it when it was AC/DC, but it's a super rare occasion. To the point where Bubba will look visibly relieved that there's evidence that his wife may not be a total music retard.
The fact is that I mostly just like genres of music rather than particular artists. And I can always tell you the genre I'm in the mood for.
Like, when Bubba asks me what I want to listen to, I'll say something like, "Oh! Something doodly-doo!" which falls into the jam band genre or "Lady jazz!" which means, well, vocal jazz or "WAAAAAAAAA" which means hard rock (I think the genre is technically called ScreamO, but that's lame sounding. Instead we call it WAAAAAA because that's the sound they make when they "sing".)
I mostly like Doodly-doo, Lady Jazz and WAAAAAAAAA.
You get it? Kinda.
Best I know how to describe my fucked up music taste is to say that I know the sounds I like and these people make those sounds.
(in no particular order)
- Billie Holliday
- Volbeat
- Dave Matthews
- John Hiatt
- Sarah Vaughan
- Seether
- Widespread Panic
- Theory of a Dead Man
- Django Reinhart
- Warren Haynes
What are your phobias?
Failure.
Arriving at my death bed regretting not having done things that I TOTALLY could have done but didn't do because I was lazy or afraid.
Grasshoppers. They jump at your face and that is wrong.
Horses. They have enormous teeth that could totally bite your face off.
Chimpanzees. Because they ripped some girl's face off.
I think I have a face issue. Maybe I have a face phobia? No. That makes no sense.
Militant religious evangelists.
Who is a real hero in your way of thinking?
Anyone who makes their own way in the world rather than adhering to the norm.
People whose default setting is optimism and positivity.
Each of my best friends.
My grandmother.
The biathlon. It's the coolest of the Olympic sports. Or maybe the high dive. That shit is just amazing. Also, I'd like to know that no matter how high the dive, I wouldn't belly flop because OW.
Were you born in the wrong century?
Probably. A future century where all my beefs with our current century have been sorted out and we all have jet packs fueled by something biodegradable like religious evangelists' limbs.
Can you tango?
Nope.
What's the worst thing you've ever tasted?
Grilled beef liver. Thought it was a small piece of steak. Was tragically wrong. Had to spit it out on the ground.
The dog liked it though.
What's the best?
Warm Brandywine tomatoes fresh off of my plants.
Do you believe in ghosts?
Eh. Not in any real way.
Who among your friends do you admire the most and why?
I don't really admire one over the others, but of close friends, I admire certain things about each of them THE MOST of anyone I know.
Does that make sense?
Like, Kelli's dedication to writing and her bravery for moving to a new place for the sake of pursuing her own happiness.
And Shelley's bravery for moving to a new country - TWICE - in pursuit of her own happiness.
And Decca and Fo's Blaze Your Own Path Despite The Norms approach to working and managing a household.
Bubba's ability to figure out how to do anything. And then do it. Well.
Elke's ingenuity with languages and how well she knows herself. Also, her fantastic German-ness.
Dave and Aimee's adventurous spirits and the fact that they're the best travel and ski buddies. Plus Dave's ability to out-swear me.
I could go on.
I really admire people who go in the direction of their own happiness and don't accept what the world tells them they should be doing. Bravery. Competence. Dedication. Adventurous spirit. These are all good things.
Winterdance. Which would mean that I would have raced in the Iditarod. Which would be incredible.
What movie will you watch every time it's on no matter how many times you've seen it?
Tombstone. Cold Mountain. Sixteen Candles. A River Runs Through It. High Fidelity. Australia. Say Anything. Star Wars. Out of Africa. Indiana Jones. Tommy Boy. Legends of the Fall. Lots of other ones that are even more shameful than these.
Some dude. In the normal way.
Do you believe in god?
No.
If you had to swap lives with a friend for a month whose life would you choose?
My friend Christine who's living in Paris right now. She just spent a year in Zurich and that's just awesome.
What food or beverage have you always wanted to try but haven't?
I've always wanted to eat at the French Laundry, but haven't had the chance yet. I've also wanted to try durian because I imagine it's tragically bad and I want to know *just how bad*. Or, as the case sometimes is with things that *everyone* says is awful - *just how great*.
Why do you run?
Because this.
Where does the name "Finny" come from?
From here.
What language would you like to speak fluently?
Italian and Spanish. I'm much closer on Spanish, but I haven't spent as much time with Italian because of my one million other hobbies.
Actually, fuck that shit, I'd rather be able to speak Greek. Or Japanese. Or Arabic. Or Pashto. Or something that would completely freak people out to hear me - a blondish American girl - speaking fluently.
What celebrity do you have a crush on?
John Cusak. Matt Damon. Renee Russo. The Rock. Pierce Brosnan. Nicole Kidman. Mike Rowe. Val Kilmer. Johnny Knoxville.
Have you ever been arrested?
Yep.
Ok, so that ought to do it. Every single one of your questions has been answered in one way or another and the window for question asking is now closed.
That's mean, isn't it?
Whatever...on to post 999 and the Super Secret Guest Blogger who you've probably already guessed.
Then...1,000 and the BIG HUGE THING NEWS.
I'm going to go jump in a lake now.
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