I present my friend, Gretchen. You probably recognize her name from comments she leaves behind in her blogland reading wake, doesn't happen too very often but her comments are always great. Which is how I 'met' her....back before the holidays...our Blessed Harlot was doing her usual holiday spin and Gretchen left a comment for her...something like, "hey, where's the summer countdown lady and Rams, can't they make a knitting schedule like last year" granted, not verbatim but you get the idea, well....I just so happen to be the 'summer countdown lady' and I emailed Gretchen telling her I hadn't been consulted..heh...seriously, it really tickled me that someone would even remember the 'summer countdown lady'....so without further ado....
Here's Gretchen!
First I need to thank Marianne, our knotminder, for giving me this opportunity to expose myself. Not often do I get this chance with such a, well, enthusiastic kick in the pants. She was scrounging around for something to blog about (have you noticed the lag time here, since "I am Such an Idiot.?"), and I made the mistake of suggesting a list of possible topics, including the 6 weird things thing… Apparently, I missed that entry, but then I made the mistake saying that I could do that - meaning I could easily find 6 weird things about her, but, she twisted it around and begged - really begged - me to be a guest blogger. What's a girl to do. I do wonder why anyone would really care about six weird things of a stranger. In my corner of the world, most strangers, by definition, are weird to me. Naturally, weirdness falls away as they become less strangers and more acquaintances and finally friends. Ultimately, I find, the circle is complete as they become closer friends, I see their weirdnesses all the more, and love them for it. So it was with our Marianne and me. That, too, is how I come to be here admitting weirdnesses to people who have never read my voice…
1. Though anyone who drives in front of me may argue, I insist I am not a tailgater. I have no urge to push you on, get past you or otherwise harass you. Nope. I just see you as the next car to get behind. So if there's a seven-car space between us, my subconscious goal is always to close the gap between us. That's all it is. Occasionally I will snap-to and realize I may be a little close and back off or change lanes. But really, I mean no harm.
2. I only drink coffee at work. What's up with that? I can count on one hand the times I've ever made myself a pot of coffee at home in the morning for my own consumption. But the third thing I do after I get to my cube, after taking off the coat and plugging the laptop back in, is move to the coffee place. Please don't stand in my way. And then - just one cup. A big one, but only one.
3. Though I was a vocal major in college, I would really rather not sing alone in public. Ever. I can. I do on occasion, and I think on those occasions I do well enough. But I am the world's most reluctant vocalist. It's not really about shyness, lord knows, or fear. I just think people don't need to hear an average voice elevated to some other place because I found myself unable to get out of it. Stick me with 3 or 7 other people singing different parts and it's a whole different ballgame. Still, I think it's strange.
4. I know I'm not alone in this, but it doesn't change the fact that it's weird. I am not otherwise compulsive in anything. But my socks and shoes must go on Left/Right/Left/Right. No exception. If I somehow (how?) mess up, everything on my feet has to come off and I must start over. Luckily messing up hardly ever happens.
5. Something related to knitting? Hmm. The idea of the fur of small, domesticated (or not), non-standard fibre (that's for you, Marianne) animals -- for illustrative purposes say cats, dogs, possum, whathaveyou -- spun into yarn makes my stomach turn, and my skin crawl. Oddly enough, rabbits are the exception that proves the rule, as they say. Once you get to sheep, goats, llamas, I'm fine. In fact, I seek it out. And will happily shell out a large-ish proportion of my disposable income on it. Furthermore, I am respectfully curious about those big prehistoric animals - bison, musk-ox and that 'q' stuff. Not enough to hand over $60 for a skein that won't make a scarf to go around my neck, let alone cover my chest, but respectful. And listen, really, I don't hate those smaller creatures - love them all (except maybe the possum), and my head will even argue with my psyche about it (what is the frickin' difference - all soft, all 4-legged, all fur - what exactly is your issue?). I can't help it. I'm a Pisces - the psyche will win out, always.
6. I can't - really can't - sit down and knit or spin until all my chores are done. This can mean days of no knitting. Or picking up needles after the late news, or falling asleep in bed with needles in my hands. But the dishes must be washed, beds made, laundry done, rooms picked up, errands run, general tidiness abiding. Then I can knit. Maybe this is only weird if you know me. Because I haven't really been up for any fabulous housekeeping awards ever in my life, if you know what I'm talking about. So, maybe a bonus weirdness to make up for it…
I adore my dentist. Really. He is a fine guy. Doesn't make you get the crown until you absolutely have to. Wouldn't think twice of giving you another hit of numbing stuff even if you're being a baby. Love the guy. Maybe it's because I had a valium-induced reaction to our first encounter. He was, I don't know, reaming out my tooth root with a little itty-bitty file in his hand in my mouth AND apparently he had to do this in a way that had to be in a regular rhythm up/down/up/down, AND because I was very, very relaxed with the Valium he gave me to relax me, AND I had music going in my ears to avoid listening to all that sound (you know what I mean), AND my head was getting pushed back into the little headrest pillowy thing on that aerodynamic chair very rhythmically, I had, appropriate to nothing, and out of nowhere, well, let's call it an impure thought. I had this sensation of perhaps being part of some sexual rendezvous while getting my root canal. Just the sensation, you know, cuz I. Am. Stoned. Let me make it abundantly clear that nothing of the sort was going on, but as my head was pushed back again, and again, and again, I just couldn't get over the similarity…it was amazing. How can I not love the guy?
I think that's just about enough, don't you? Let's never speak of it again. Come back, Marianne, darlin', come back...
OK, it is I, Marianne, and yes, I might as well be 'blogless' as of late, I've pretty much been whappin' my forehead for several days....tis a sad sight.
I will admit that I did indeed beg Gretchen to guest blog for me, and yes, it was some serious begging going on too, but ya know...now that I think about it, there was no fibre deal involved....dudes, she's easy. Oops, ya'll keep quiet about that, not a word! I mean it. Not.A.Word.
I do want to tell you something.....
She's knitting a Snowdrop Shawl, yes. She's nearly completed a Snowdrop Shawl, yes. Snowdrop Shawl (the shawl our Blessed Harlot designed, that Snowdrop Shawl)
Gretchen, thank you so much and I sincerely hope you come back to guest blog again, I'll beg. Again. I'll beg big time......XOXOXOX
