evening.

Right now I'm at this blogging workshop at my local library, where I work, awesomely. There are 4 people here. And one of them is my boss, who organized this. And another is the guy, an English prof, who's running it or something. Teaching. Teaching the wonders of a blog. I don't know his name. But his beard is impressive.
Heather's here, too, sitting next to me and makin' her blog. I think. No, wait. She isn't. She's on some writerly website that English dude told her to go on and God only knows why she's still on that site, since that was like 5 minutes ago.
I hate Internet Explorer. So. Much. I get so used to Firefox at home and at dad's, and then I get on this library computer and there's lazy Internet Explorer what doesn't spell check my things, and, since this a outdated version, no tabs. How am I supposed to live without tabs? HOW. I ASK OF YE.
Today I was reading this book, Daughter of Fortune, I picked it up at a library book sale, and I opened it up and a picture fell out. Of some girl. It was weird. It's a good book, though, so far, although the writing style is kind of bugging me, at first it was being told from the future-like, and the third-person nararrator was all reminscing and stuff and look, without Mozilla Firefox I am nothing. I have no actual skills at spelling, just a handy add-on. Anyway, then the book stopped doing that. Got better.
I'm at my father's this weekend. Which means Sims 3 and good food. As far as I can tell, the two only very good things at my father's. Basically- we wander through the store and I go, cookies we need cookies! and string cheese and this and if you buy a cake mix i will make cupcakes and blake likes these and WE NEED MUFFINS. Peach muffins. Onnomnom.
My sock crocheting is going strangely, to say the least. It's guesswork mostly. Is this big enough, how many stitches here, should I switch to hdc? It's a bit big. I do not want to frog all of it, though, it's sock weight yarn with a 3.25 hook and it's going along nicely enough. I hope it will get a better fit, I think this happened the last time I crocheted a sock. Then again. That didn't turn out well. I'm just killing time writing, I think.
Mom's out of town this weekend, out in Yakima, then to Seattle, to run the Seattle Rock 'n Roll Marathon. Kick some ass. Every mile they have a band set up and they play music for the runners. Sounds cool. 'cept for the running thing.
Jesus Christ, Michael Jackson died. Bad things happen in threes. Celebrity deaths. Been saying this for years. This week- McMahon, Fawcett, and Jackson. Last time it happened, John Ritter, Johnny Cash and some other dude, I forget his name. John Ritter was funny. He was on an episode of M*A*S*H, very early, like Season 1. When M*A*S*H was good. Now, I am literally just typing anything what comes to mind.
My fingernails are colored. I didn't paint them or anything, stuck my fingers in a watercolor set at work today. Yes. My job is that exciting. Also today I drew a chalk line on the ground. My favorite part of work putting the papers out. We get the newspapers in the morning and I always get to them first, sort them, and then go put them out. Smell of newspapers is intoxicating.
Type type type. Heather is a loud typer. Jesus. What a novelist.
These socks I am making, I think I will make them Not Ankle Socks. I'll have to finagle (HOW DO I SPELL FINAGLE!? EFF YOU IE.) a cuff onto them somehow. Ribbing is tricky with crochet. Knitting, it's easy. Knit 2 purl 2. Repeat. Crochet, it's double crochet into back loops and then turn it sideways. For ribbing. Maybe not worth it.
I am like tired. Unexplicably. I don't do much really.
Do you know what I hate (besides most everything and people and I hate bees, I really do) is when people ask me, what're you going to do with your life? I used to be worried about this. I used to care. Now, I say gleefully, "I have no idea. None whatsoever. I don't care." I don't.
My wrists are hurting now, grrr. Tagging now.