Pollyanna Rainbow Sunshine and the Needles of Doom

Lyda here.

So I’m playing on, ya’ll.

Specifically, I’m considering moving. Things on the job market are a bit… bleak. Not working much is not working for me. Especially considering how expensive it is to live here, and how much debt I have.

If anyone in Orange County needs a great organizer, or a great office manager, now is the time to let me know.

I feel as if I’m having a move thrust on me. It’s not my first choice, but it may be the best choice.

At any rate, I agree with John Gay:

EDITED TO REMOVE EXTREME WHINING.  Lyda here. Same shit, different day. No details needed.

Instead, I’ve been dwelling on a few things that might bring a smile to ya’ll. Things like zombies, and weirdness.

And here are some other happy things:

Ex-parrots.

Weird Greek heroes and doughnuts.

Star Trek and the White Rabbit. No more Star Trek!

You gotta watch out for the rabbit.

Remember, nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition.

Hi, Anna-Liza again. I’m really sorry, y’all. I have so much more to tell you about Wool Market and the cool stuff I got there, but I’m in a serious time crunch. I’m taking a series of four workshops every evening this week, and then Darlin’ K and I are going to be at SolFest this weekend. I’m going to keep working on the fiber post(s) in the bits of time I find. I’ll also try to break it up into smaller bites, so I can at least post some of it between now and … next week? Maybe Saturday morning, before we leave. So much to blog about, so little time to blog!

I finally did get to play with my new drop spindle yesterday, with some of the black Churro wool. I know you’ve seen this a couple of times, but here’s a very quick description:

New drop spindle in the middle; directly above that and then clockwise is some Navajo Churro wool in three colors; on top of the Churro is some Plain and Fancy sportweight singles in “Purple Mountains”; the eye-searing pink/purple/turquoise is merino/mohair; the pale grey wool is laceweight cormo from Elsa Wool Company; the stripey grey/black roving is wool from a Teesedale/Cotswold crossbreed.

I sound like I actually know what I’m doing! I do not.

Lyda here. So, Anna-Liza is off fondling yarn and meeting bloggers and having a high old time. Me? I’ve been hocking my wares in the hot California sun.

Today was our big yard sale. I spent most of yesterday going through the kitchen, pulling out stuff for the sale, and then pricing everything. About 11 last night, I loaded the last of the crap  wonderful treasures into the car and crawled off to bed.

The alarm went off at 6:30 this morning. Which is way too early for a Saturday. But I staggered out of bed and into the shower, and even remembered to slap some sunscreen on my face. The Resident Sith Master got up too, and we headed out.

Because my apartment isn’t right on the street, the sale was at a friend’s house. People were digging through the stuff while we were still dragging stuff out of the car.

The sale went pretty well - I made some money and gave RSM 20% for his assistance, and my friend made a little money too. About 2, I piled some of the stuff into the car and took it to a donation center. My friend volunteered to take the rest in her car.

I have a feeling of wonderful lightness. Every room in our place has been purged of unwanted, unneeded, outgrown stuff. Only the garage remains. But that’s for another day. Or two. Or eleven. I’m thinking that I will do it a bit at a time. But ya’ll know how crazy I am…

Lyda here. I’m waiting for word on possible temporary assignments for me,  so ya’ll keep your fingers crossed for me, ‘kay?  Yeah, I’m still Desperately Seeking Work.

Writer. Artist. Teacher. Office Manager. Organizer Extraordinare. Hard to believe employers aren’t banging down my door, isn’t it? But so far, only the Zombie Army is at the door. And they don’t care about my mad skillz. They just love me for my brain. And my heart.

Maybe my liver…

But I digress…

Of course, one day I won’t need to earn a living. The Resident Sith Master will be absolute ruler of the world, which will make me Grand Empress Dowager  and then I will live in the lavish style to which I would like to become accustomed.

But I digress again…

I named this post from the Disney film “Freaky Friday” which I would have sworn starred Hayley Mills. Who is one of my favorite actresses, and not just because she did “Pollyanna” the year I was born. And I would post a picture of her, thus ensuring future hits, but I can’t figure out how to get it posted. Curses and swearwords! Another freaky thing!

Best Hayley Mills line ever? “Listen! I have the most scathingly brilliant idea!” –as Mary in “The Trouble with Angels” (1966).

But it was not Hayley Mills, it was Jodie Foster in the 1976 ”Freaky Friday“. If I could be wrong about this, what else do I not know that I think I know???  Freaky, ya’ll.

They did a 2003 “Freaky Friday” remake with Jamie Lee Curtis and Lindsay Lohan. I wonder what the book is like…? The author wrote the 1976 screenplay. Digressing again…

At least I got some sleep last night. Ya’ll have no idea what a relief that is, after several weeks of waking up every two hours. At least, I hope ya’ll don’t know what that’s like.  I didn’t sleep through the night, but I was able to fall back asleep when I did wake up. Ya’ll, I’ve even stopped drinking caffeine!  I don’t have trouble falling asleep; I just don’t stay asleep. The medical opinion is that it’s stress. If I won the lottery or otherwise received large amounts of cash, the stress would go away. Hello, Goddess of Money, are you listening??

Anyway, I’m having a freaky day. It started with the shower. Our shower is currently draining really slowly, so I’m taking really fast showers, which is weird for me. I’m saving water, at least. Looking on the bright side… Hey, they don’t call me Pollyanna for nothing!

Today, while in the shower, I heard a weird glugging noise. When I got out of the shower, I noticed that there was water in the (separate) bathtub. Very dirty water. Not water from my shower. Backed-up sewer water. Yuck.  Using the shower made water back up into the bathtub. Not good.  So, we need a plumber. Hey, Mario!

The next freaky thing - I got a call about a possible temporary assignment. The agency asked me if I know how to do “vlookup” in Excel. Huh? Now, I’m pretty darn good on Excel, ya’ll, but I had no idea what they were talking about. I don’t have Excel on my computer, so I got gussied up in my work clothes and went down to the agency. Where I took an Excel test which I aced - which did not mention “vlookup”. So I took another Excel test, which I also aced. Nope, no “vlookup.” While I was there, I took tests on Accounts Payable and Accounts Receivable, because they said they get a lot of call for that. I did well on them too. I talked on the phone to someone who knew what “vlookup” was. Turns out, it’s a formula in Excel.

Then I headed for home, and played with this formula on the spreadsheet program on my computer (it’s not Excel, it only plays Excel on my computer). So now I know what the formula does, and sort of how to do it. What I don’t know is, why? Why would you use this formula? Anyone out there know?

Anyway, that was freaky for little Miss Software Expert…

While I was waiting for the phone call about the assignment, I remembered that I had a doctor’s appointment. So I hustled off there. The blood tests he ordered a week ago? Came back normal (eliminating a host of not-good illnesses). But we still don’t know why I can’t breathe well, or why the medicine isn’t helping, or why I have chest pain. So, of course, he ordered more tests. One next week, the other a week later.

Why do I never get anything easy to diagnose? It’s like my body is playing some weird kind of Jeopardy. I’ll take “Mystery Ailments” for $2000, Alex.  My body is freaky.

So I’ve got that going for me.

On the way home, I stopped at the bank and deposited some checks and asked for my balance. Not really freaky, but disappointing.

So, I’ll be having a garage sale next weekend. I’d do it this weekend, but RSM is at his dad’s house, and I need his help. Which gives me this weekend to search out lots of things to sell. I’m tempted to sell everything not nailed down, but I’m sure RSM will restrain me from selling anything important.

Like video games.

Or the sewing machine.

The cat.

My fiber stash.

Ya’ll know. The essentials.

For now, I’m going to open a bottle of wine and turn on the tube and watch something freaky.

Have a scathingly brilliant weekend, ya’ll.

Lyda here. Is there any other kind of depression? I mean, no one talks about the Depression of Lightheartedness. The Depression of Fantasticness. But I’m digressing. Already. As Maggie Simpson once said, “This is indeed a disturbing universe.”

I’ve been struggling especially this last month, resulting in very few posts, and in the need for Anna-Liza to smack me repeatedly - thanks BFF, I need that. I’ll try not to dwell, but let me just say, being poor and unemployed sucks.

Does anyone need a professional organizer? A writer? An office manager? A bookkeeper? A proofreader? I can be bought! That’s what he said.  Seriously, I need work. Anyone? Anyone? 

Ya’ll send “Lyda gets a fabulous job” vibes, okay?

Or, ”Lyda wins the lottery so she never has to work ever again” vibes. I’m easy. But ya’ll already knew that. 

And if I did win the lottery, I would be very generous with sharing the wealth. There would be gifts. Fiber gifts. I’m just saying…

I spent last week digging a company we shall call Procrastinators R Us out of over six months of back filing - each month’s filing being three to five feet tall. It took all week and lots of muscle power. Sheesh, people, keep up with the filing! The back you save could be mine! 

The surreal part was that their filing room - filled with huge shelves that you can move back and forth on tracks via a big crank - was a converted vault and had no air circulation.

This Pollyanna was sweating… sorry, Grandma, I mean, “glowing”… like a horse every day.

It was like being trapped in “Metropolis.”

But without the robot.

I was not sweating like a pig - pigs don’t sweat. That’s why they roll in mud - to moisten their skin and cool off. Mud also protects against sunburn. And that is your Lick The Pig Fact of the Day. 

Look - “The Joy of Pigs” ! A must-see NATURE video. Just look at the cute lickable piggies on that link!

Shit, I’m digressing again…

Doing filing for a solid week did make me appreciate all the jobs I’ve ever had that were NOT solid filing. And also, all the jobs where the room temperature was less than 85 degrees.

Meanwhile, in other whining…

My sleep has been weird; I keep waking up in the middle of the night unable to go back to sleep again. And I’m not sleepy at my normal bedtime, so I’ve been staying up late. Also, I’ve pretty much lost my appetite, which is very unusual for me. As one could tell by looking at me, although hopefully one would be too polite to say so.  I’ve been watching TV at weird hours (more on that in the next post), and working late into the night on my quilting Mystery Projects.

Yes, I know, how evil I am to keep mentioning the Mystery Projects when I cannot tell you about them yet. Bwahahaha!  But I can report that I’m done with three of them - completely, totally done. Three - three F.O.s! Ah-ah-ah!  And the others are getting very close to completion. Soon I will ship them out - “I’ll ship you, my pretties… and your little dog too!” … “These things have to be done delicately, delicately…” - and then I will at last be able to post about them.

“Anticipation… Antici-paaation… It’s making me wait…”

Oh, now I’m craving thick fries with ketchup.

“I digress, therefore I am…”

I’ll even post a tutorial about the Mystery Projects, which are actually quite fun and go quickly.

If you don’t do 7 or 8 all at once.

Which is of course what I am doing.

Because I am insane.

But ya’ll knew that, didn’t you?

Lyda here. I really should finish teaching my Zombie Army the steps so we can get out on the road. There should be opportunities for dancing zombies, right? Unfortunately, we had to drop the tap number - their arms and legs kept falling off.

While waiting for the reattachments, I’ve had some unexpected time off to quilt and read, and of course to watch more TV and movies. Ya’ll know where this is going:

Movie reviews! I got two movies from the library and watched them over the weekend.

I watched “Damn Yankees” (1958.) Yes, I am a theater geek from way back, and I love musicals. Except for Tab Hunter as Joe, this fun version of Faust has the original Broadway cast, including Gwen Verdon as that vamp Lola who always gets what she wants, and Ray Walston as Applegate also known as the Devil - they both won Tony awards for these roles. Bob Fosse did the choreography, and performs a famous mambo number with Verdon. Fosse and Verdon were married, and she preferred working with him to any other choreographer. This is a fun romp in the ballpark, and the trademark Fosse dance moves are wonderful in every number.

ZOMBIE ALERT!

I also saw “Planet Terror” (2007). I saw the extended and unrated version, which was released as a 2-disc set, not the film as it was shown in theaters. I’m guessing that the version I saw has more nudity, and possibly more gore and extended gross moments. 

See, the bad guys release this experimental gas which mutates people into zombies when it touches them, and everyone the zombies come in contact with mutate, except some people are immune for some reason. As the infection spreads and more mutated zombies are created, the plot becomes more and more unreal. In a weird - and above all disgusting - way. Full plot and cast list here.

The film was directed by Robert Rodriguez (Sin City), and released theatrically as a double feature with Quentin Tarantino’s Death Proof. Tarantino has a cameo as an infected soldier and gets to mutate in a particularly disgusting way. Yuck.  Rose McGowan stars as an exotic dancer who loses a leg to the zombies fairly early on. But it’s okay - she’s up and walking an hour later, because her former boyfriend and expert zombie fighter (played by Freddie Rodriguez) attaches a table leg to her stump, and later a modified M4 carbine and rocket launcher - which she can shoot at will. Somehow. Without pulling a trigger or anything. What? Does that seem far-fetched to anyone?  Bruce Willis plays the crazed Lt. Muldoon, and gets to chew the scenery in a couple of over-the-top scenes and then mutate. There are various other loonies and tough men and women - and lots and lots of zombies, shooting, explosions, and fires. Of course.

Some parts of the film were intentionally damaged to give it a 70’s grindhouse theater effect. At one point, a scene is interrupted with a ”Missing Reel” reel sign, and when the film continues, the plot has moved on. This is confusing but also kind of fun - if you are in the mood for this kind of weirdness.

Being in the mood for this movie is crucial for enjoying it. You have to suspend disbelief and just go with it all.

Zombie survival tip: During a zombie invasion, avoid hospitals.

And, apparently, barbeque restaurants. I guess your average zombie likes secret sauce as much as the next guy.

Which reminds me: Do not try to eat while watching this film. Don’t watch it right after a meal either, or plan on eating right after. Particularly barbeque. I may never eat barbeque again. Well, okay, not “never” but… for a while.

This film is definitely not for children, dogs, or anyone with a sensitive stomach. The unrated version at least is for adults only. Even I, your intrepid zombie reporter, had to look away from the screen rather a lot. But it’s not only the gore and extreme grossness that makes this inappropriate for teens; there is one rather explicit sex scene, an attempted rape, and pointless random deaths of a child and a dog.

On the Pollyanna West Zombie Scale, this film gets a 2 out of 5 Brains for Zombie Fun - and 5 out of 5 Brains for Gore. Plus - in a Pollyanna first - an additional 100 Brains for Grossness.

Hopefully, the next zombie movie won’t be this disgusting. I’ll be sure to let ya’ll know…

Lyda here. Boy, do I wish I could have sat there with Anna-Liza this weekend, knitting and talking and watching her kids play in that neat coffee shop she wrote about yesterday. I think she posted pictures as part of her campaign to get me to move to Colorado. Yes, I am tempted. And I don’t even drink coffee. But hot chocolate… yum. But most of all - time with my BFF.

We did talk on the phone. For hours. Thank goodness for unlimited weekend calling.

We’re having another heat wave here in So. Cal. Yes, there is at least one fire burning - not near us.  Yes, it’s miserable - it was 95 degrees at our place yesterday, and here at the coast we don’t normally get temperatures that high even in August. On the other hand, Anna-Liza said they had snow on Saturday. We discussed trading weather for a day - we would love a day of snow, and she would like a warm summery day. Unfortunately, the weather gods and goddesses did not grant our request.  Or maybe the Quantum Butterfly is just flapping its wings too much. The heat does not make the breathing any better. Pant.

Friday night, the Resident Sith Master went to a movie with friends, and I watched “The Jane Austen Book Club” with the Dread Cat Tommy. He fell asleep; I enjoyed the movie and even watched all the special features before RSM came home. I didn’t read the book.  The movie was fun, with some really good actresses playing off each other. Kathy Baker, Maria Bello, Emily Blunt, Amy Brenneman, Maggie Grace, and Lynn Redgrave. And the men were also good and very nice to look at. Hugh Dancy , Marc Blucas and Kevin Zegers - all a bit young for my taste, but very cute. Jimmy Smits, looking very good in his tux, definitely to my taste. Light girly entertainment, just what I was in the mood for.

Practically all weekend, while the Resident Sith Master played video games and I watched TV, I worked on The Increasingly Inaccurately Named “Easy” Heart Quilt. Which involved actual ironing. In the heat. Because I am insane. I also cooked - actually cooked with heat - breakfast and dinner both Saturday and Sunday. Yes, thank you, I would like a medal. But I digress…

Saturday, I gently picked out stitches on one square that was wrong, and then sewed a replacement square in place. Directional fabric can be a pain when you have a feline assistant who likes to move the fabric around.

I passed the halfway mark on stitching together the rows for the quilt top. By lunch time Sunday, I passed the two-thirds mark. By bedtime last night, I had sewn all but the last four rows together. It looks good at this point. All fingers crossed.

I will probably finish sewing the rows together tonight. Then I will need to figure out the binding, and the backing which will include a way to hang the finished quilt.

After I iron the quilt top. And pet it and love it and call it George.

Obsession. It’s not just a perfume.

“Still crazy…”

At least, I would if I could. You know how if you screw up your knitting, you frog it and try again? I wish I could do that. Try again, I mean.

Here follows “A Tale of Two Kisses”.

Or “A Tale of A Dork”.

Lyda here, trying to answer Marin’s semi-challenge  and in the spirit of other people’s recent blog posts (this and this)… the topic at hand is this.

But this is not a list of My Best Kisses Ever. I tried to do that, but it was way too… Depressing? Distracting? Weird? Yeah, let’s go with “weird”. Anna-Liza is privy to all my secrets; she can corraborate the weirdness.

So, this is actually about the first guy who ever kissed me.

When I was 16, a great and very attractive guy from my youth theater group asked me out on My First Date.

“Oh god, this is going to be one of those stories.” “Yes. Yes, it is. Hush up.”

He was older (a senior!) and had a car and knew all this cool music and introduced me to “Queen,” which was all very cool, but more importantly, he understood the theater geek thing, and the semi-activist-hippie thing, and most importantly, he was funny and smart and sweet and a great guy, and we were friends. And I had a very serious crush on him. Did I mention he was gorgeous too? Really fantastic eyes, and sensous lips, and seriously handsome, and… Sigh. I think I still have a crush on him.

Hey, maybe this was the beginning of my obsession with cute guys with dark hair and twinkling dark eyes? Hmm…

The date was scary-wonderful. I was very very nervous. I hadn’t even held hands with a guy before. He was great, and I was terrified. He had the whole date planned. We went to dinner (at an ice cream parlor), and then saw a movie. I have no idea what movie. I spent the movie trying to remember to breathe, and wondering what to do if he wanted to kiss me, and what if he didn’t want to kiss me, and what if he didn’t like me, and was I sitting close enough, or too close, and… Crazy girly stuff. Ya’ll know.

After the movie, he drove to the elementary school and parked, and we walked and talked, and sat on the swings and talked. For hours. With the moon and stars above. Magical.

I was seriously smitten. And I had no idea what to do when he drove me home and we got out of the car. There we were, standing on my sidewalk, he held my hands, and then he kissed me.

And I kept my lips tightly together. Hey, what the hell did I know? That’s how I’d done the few stage kisses I’d have…

He looked at me kind of puzzled and confused and oh god I hope not but I think maybe hurt, and said, “That wasn’t much of a kiss.”

How I wish I had just said, “It was my first. I have no idea what to do.”

Instead, I just stood there like the idiot I was. He kissed me again, but as I still didn’t know what to do (hello: relax mouth, part lips, maybe even participate!), it was not much better. Totally my fault. If I could frog these kisses and try again, I would do it in a heartbeat.

Sigh. Despite my complete dorkiness, we went on more dates. We even had our own star - the evening star, which I now know is the planet Venus. How perfect is that?

He continued to be wonderful, I continued to be a dork.

I think he thought I wasn’t into him, when I was so totally into him. I was just so terrified of screwing up - that I screwed up. Dork. Dork. Dork.  He went away to college the next year, and no doubt dated non-dorks who had half a clue about kissing.

We stayed friends and saw each other a few times after he went to college, but I was still a complete dork and still had no clue how to act around him, and even though he might have still been a little interested in me, I still didn’t know how to tell him I was still crazy about him.

Fast forward several years and much… um… education for me, yeah, we’ll call it that.  He called me one year when I was home from college for Christmas break, and came over to see me.

Once again, I was so nervous I could hardly talk to him. I really liked him so much, and still had a crush on him. I was so embarassed because of my dorkiness with the whole kissing thing on the first date, and my continued dork-osity at each meeting.

After an hour or two, he said he had to go.

We walked outside and he took my hand to jokingly shake good-bye. And then he took my other hand. And I was blathering away pretending I was a normal human being and not the world’s biggest dork. Not that I was fooling anyone.

And he kissed me.

Oh.

My.

God.

If our first kiss is the bottom of the scale of Kissing Wonderfulness - completely and totally because of me, did I make that clear enough? - this kiss is at the very top. Beyond the top. Way the fuck off the scale.

Perfect in fact.

One of the top ten kisses in the entire history of the world. Like the narrator talks about in “Princess Bride” - that perfect.

This is a kiss that I would never ever frog. A kiss I will remember when I’m 105 and have forgotten my own name.

And then he said a few more things, as I stood there stunned and wanting to kiss him for days. And other things. Which I knew about by then. Oh yes I did.

And then he left.

Leaving me standing there, dazed…

And I never ever told him how much I really really liked him.

I never told him that he was the first man who ever kissed me.

I never said… whatever would have kept him standing there kissing me like that.

I’m a dork.

All because I was too embarrassed to say, “I don’t know what to do.”

‘Cause he would have been a great teacher.

Sigh.

He is one of the best guys I’ve ever known. And possibly - probably - the nicest man I ever dated. Heh, I can hear Anna-Liza saying, “The LAST nice guy you dated…” And she should know.

I think of him every time I hear Queen, any Queen song, especially from this album, which was kind of our album. Every time, it all comes back to me. The excitement, and the rush of girly feelings. Also, the embarassment, and the dorkiness of me, and worst of all, the horrible nagging fear that I hurt him.

I wonder where he is now… And if he is appreciated as the amazing kisser he is…

And if he ever thinks of me.

The Dork Who Loved Him.

Lyda here. I did have a good weekend. Not only did I watch “Black Sheep” and a lot of TV, I got some errands done and worked in the garden. I didn’t get to the second movie yet, but I have it for a week, so…

And I worked on the Increasingly Inaccuractly Named “Easy” Heart Quilt.

Mostly I worked on the quilt all weekend, with minor breaks for food, sleep, and errands. Believe me, I wouldn’t have done those if I hadn’t had to, but a person needs food. And drugs  legally prescribed medication.

All 36 rows were completed by Saturday. So I started sewing the rows together into the quilt top.

But first - ya’ll knew it wouldn’t be that easy, right? - I had to do the dreaded ironing of the seams.

I ironed the first row and held it up to the light. And decided I need to trim the seam allowances.

The 1/4″ seam allowances were showing through the fabric, and I didn’t like that. The pieces I cut out were two-inch squares. The finished size in the quilt of each square should be one inch. I could have cut 1 1/2″ squares, but the seams would have been difficult to sew on my machine, and  would have left me no margin for error. Plus my cutting board only has one-inch intervals marked on it.

So, I trimmed the seams on the first four rows, ironed them, and stitched them together using 1/4″ seam allowances for the row-joining seams. And then trimmed those long seams.

Then I ironed the piece I had just created. I held it up to admire it. Four rows together! Woo-hoo!

And then I saw it. The very first row had two pieces in the wrong places. Which totally messed up the heart pattern.

This shall not stand! But I could see how to fix it.

I carefully pulled out the stitches in the seam between row 1 and row 2  - but only for the length of three squares in each of the two spots I needed to change. I weilded my seam ripper very slowly. “These things must be done delicately. Delicately. Or you hurt the magic.”  Then I pulled out the stitches connecting the three squares in each spot on the row, flipped them around, and sewed them back in place. And presto! A perfect row.

And a confirmation that the 1/4″ seam allowances were definitely the way to go, despite the need to trim them later. Sewing 1/8″ seam allowances - - not easy on my machine.

After that, I proceeded, but with more caution. I checked the pattern repeatedly before trimming the next rows. Then checked it again before trimming the long joining seams.

By the end of Sunday, I had 11 rows stitched together - yes, correctly, thank you very much. I didn’t have to rip any more seams.

I also discovered that some of the red fabrics are bleeding onto my ironing board cover. Which means I need to be very careful ironing the yellows which come next. I’ll use a pressing cloth (AKA an old t-shirt or maybe even a paper towel) so the red doesn’t transfer onto the yellows. It also means that I need to be careful when I use these fabrics for other projects. This quilt will be a wall-hanging, so it doesn’t really need to be washable. But other projects might.

Almost a third of the quilt top sewn together. The final look is beginning to emerge. I like it and I think it will be beautiful.

And ya’ll, if I ever try to make a bigger quilt with such teeny tiny squares, please stop me.

Now I have to go see if I can find that pattern Jane is looking for…