Too bad. But if you want to see my new blog, please to click:
Which is where I shall be posting from this point on. Leery Polyp will remain (as a Memorial Wing, I guess), but all the new stuff is going to the Modernity Ward.
So check in, won't you?
Nah, I already have a name for the new blog. The plan is to get it up and running this weekend, since I don't have any homework to do or seeds to start or haybale of laundry to wash or children to watch or husbands to satisfy or cat feces odors to remove from chairs that are probably just going to end up on the street Monday morning, because is there any product that removes mystery shit smells when THERE IS NO VISIBLE SHIT to attack? Answer me that, dude.
Oh, and even before you go reading the rest of the post, go pay my sister a visit at her new blog. She's a better writer than I am, which sucks because I already quit piano when she got better than me and now there's really nothing left to quit.
But you probably -- and by "you" I mean the two remaining people who bother to check the old LP on a Friday after work hours, hi guys, howyadoin' -- would like to know the BIG SECRET to which I have been alluding for lo these, um, several days.
So here it is:
Sean has been offered, and has accepted, a position at Vanderbilt (which is in Nashville, Tennessee, case you didn't know, and I did not realize until I actually moved there that Princeton was in New Jersey, so there you go). We're going to Nashville, kids!
We have a year and a half to do all the prepwork, so I'm gonna need you to go ahead and just do the following things for me, mmmkay?
1. Tell me where you live/lived in/around Nashville and what you liked/loathed about it.
2. Totally be my friend when we move there. I will make you cupcakes and babysit your kids. Promise.
3. If you are in or around Philly, and you see me out in the world and recognize me, say hi! Please? PLEASE?
...I had free time, and big dreams, and, you know, a blog. We're just in one of those crazy busy patches, and I can't even tell you all my Awesome Stories (tm) because they involve The Thing Which Cannot Be Announced.
I'm sort of hoping to get knocked up, just so I'll have something to talk about with y'all.
Oh, and I went with the ballet flats with the rosettes. Only because they fit better. I might order the others in another size, though. Cute.
Man, I was so all done reading about the horrible things people do, and the horrible thing we've done collectively to the climate (do not google James Lovelock's latest prediction unless you have a bottle of really good wine and a krazy straw), so I went to Target to get me a piece of mass-market fashion.
The rapacious hordes beat me to it, evidently, and all I could find in my size (which is neither a 15 nor a 2, the only remaining options in the handful of pieces left) was this sweatshirt, which is not at all the kind of thing I usually buy, and which is insanely cute and flattering. I did find online this dress, which I tried on in-store in the wrong size and LOVED anyway, and also ordered these shoes and these shoes, one of which will remain here and one of which will go back. (I tried on 10s in-store to get a sense of fit.) They're useless for tromping through the ambient garbage of West Philly, but they'll be great at a wedding.
Sigh. I can't even link you to the other pieces I wanted to get, because they're off the website now too! Pretty flowy flowery things (that I tried on in size waytoobig), and a linen vest (that I tried on in tadtoosmall). I am irate and stalkerish and very, very cute.
What else: I was working on Coachella in this yarn, and then got to the try-on stage and...yick. My gauge was right in the swatch, so either it changes as I knit or there's something funky about the sizing. I knit the small, and the drape at the neck was obscene -- plus there was too much fabric in the front of the arms, and not enough in the back. I'm frogging it, but now I need ideas for a beautiful tank that I can wear a bra with, and which will only use three balls of that yarn. I'm thinking of designing my own, lessen you got any ideas.
Hahwell. It's hard to be too upset when a passel of your favorite people arrive home. And when there's the promise of more favorite people entering the 'hood in the near future.