This not-precisely-a-great-month is over. Well, in about 16 hours it will be.

It didn't end with a bang, but at least it ends on a good note. I have found a new heart-throb (Dave, lead singer of Mae, will you marry me? At least have sex with me? Please?), been reminded once more how to laugh at the shit life throws at me (thank you, Mr. Fate, even though you probably don't read this), and found a way to take $100 a month off my rent (yay for having friends move into rooms downstairs!). I also went to a party (I know ... being social. Gasp. Shocker. What is this world coming to.) and won gift certificates and — most important — a jar full of peanut M&Ms, the best candy to come out of America since ... well, since ice cream was invented. Really. Okay, maybe Reese's candies are better, for that occasional treat, but peanut M&Ms are the best for everyday eating. Mm.

Tonight, in honor of Hallowe'en, I intend to get slightly drunk. Fortunately, I am pulling a daytime shift, so I can actually go out and have an evening social life. Excitement. It's these little things that pull me through my day.

Of course, that nice little extra hour of sleep courtesy of the end of daylight savings time helps things mucho lotto.

And the fact that PMS doesn't start for another few days is also helpful. As is the fact that I am a fucking awesome knitter, yo! I'm almost done with a sweater whose yarn I have had with me for two freaking years (just over that, now). Not that I bought the yarn for that sweater in particular. I bought it for another sweater, which I knitted, found out it was too big, frogged, reknit, lost weight in the process of knitting it so it was again too big, frogged again, starting knitting a third time, still was too big, frogged it once more and then kept it all balled up from New York to San Jose to San Francisco. It's the yarn that is actually specifically called for in the pattern (Debbie Bliss Cashmerino Superchunky), and I am in lurve with it. Every time I knit with it I am reminded of how much I love it. And I think, this time, I will actually have a fitting sweater to wear with it. I hope. I may just give up and keep it as a snuggle blanket if this time around falls through. :P Nyah.

That's a lie, actually. This stuff is $15 a ball (though I remember only paying $9 ... maybe yarn is actually the only thing you can get cheaper in New York City ... just maybe). I will reknit and reknit it until I can actually wear it out in public, god damn it. Plus, it is warm and makes me happy to snuggle it. People will think I am autistic or something when they see me in it, but I don't care. Happiness is a fragile thing.

Pictures of said sweater happiness forthcoming, with focus on my extra-keen seaming skillz (wait until you see those seams! Invisible, I tell ya!) and overall fantastic knittingness.

Showertime, since the house is not emptied of all other roommates and I have to be at work in just under two hours. Strange. There is this bright thing in the sky ... I know not what it is. But it provides light and gives the streetlamps a few hours of resting time. I think I like it; we'll see.

October 22, 2005

I wonder if the chill I feel is the actual temperature or the cold from my soul.

I am lonely, in case you hadn't noticed. Lonely and, apparently, undate-able.

I'm not in the best mood to describe my speed dating experience, but I promised, and as sleep is eluding my person at the moment (it's almost 7 a.m. on a Saturday morning ... I should be catching up), this is probably as good a time as any.

It's easiest to describe the experience as "interesting". Easy, but perhaps not the best word for it. Imagine meeting a friend of a friend at a party. You both have drinks in your hand, you both know nothing about each other, and immediately upon introduction you are left alone together and pretty much forced to converse for 8 minutes straight. Both of you are single, both of you a kind of looking for someone to be that potential "Mr./Ms. Right", both of you know that your mutual friend stuck you in that situation just for that purpose. You also know that this mutual friend is not always the wisest of matchmakers, more of a hit-or-miss. What do you say to each other? What words can come out of your mouth that will make this person sit up and notice you, or elicit something in that person that makes you suddenly impressed and want to go further?

That is kind of like what speed dating is all about.

I met a lot of guys I wouldn't mind hanging out with again; they were interesting, or had done interesting things. I thought that 8 minutes would be too long ... but most of the dates felt too short to really say anything beyond what we did for a living and where we were from.

It's a situation that feels very forced, and yet, I probably would do it again. Unfortunately, I get the feeling that I'm the sort of person you fall for after 30 minutes of conversation. I'm not impressive at the start, and I suppose I lose my attractiveness over time. But for a brief period of time between the second impression and when I start yapping too much and going through too many layers of the onion too quickly ... I must be fascinating.

Disagree? You'll have to tell me; I'm the worst judge of myself. Especially at the moment.

While Mom is getting better physically, emotionally she's getting worse by the week. She feels guilty about forcing the world to revolve around her, she feels helpless because she can't drive or go out on her own or even read a book to herself ... and yet, she needs to be demanding on all of these things to save her sanity. The stress is starting to wear at me more, and piled on top of my loneliness and the lack of sleep during the week -- I can only catch a few hours when I'm down in San Jose between when the house finally quiets down from everyone leaving for work or school and when Mom wakes me up because she is depressedly lonely and we have to go pick up my brother -- I'm starting to think ...

Well, maybe I can pound out my Great American Novel when I'm in moods like this.

October 17, 2005

Washing my yarn this evening, I came to the realization why I'm still single.

I'm the freakin' type of girl who spends her evenings washing her yarn and knitting it up.

Which would be a horrible thing, except that this is my favorite yarn. Ever. Knits up like butter and is soft and warm and squeeful. Squee squee SQUEE.

Downside: pills like a mutha, costs $15 a ball in the yarn shops here, takes 11 balls to make a sweater. Major bummer.

No wonder I'm not getting laid.

Next entry: Speed Dating.

October 16, 2005

Updates? I'm supposed to do updates on this thing? Oh, I suppose so.

Not much new. Now that it is fall and the sun has finally come out and the days are getting shorter and colder, I have obsessively re-organized my yarn, placed all my in-progress knitting projects on top of the baskets, and started in on my winter knitting. My summer knitting (Target halter top, hemp lace top) will have to wait until next year, alas.

People tell me that if I want guys to talk to me and/or ask me out, I should put myself out there. So I did last night. I went to a show that a fellow TCS-listee had emailed me about, the opening band was a group I'd heard before and actually liked (yay, local music), and it was a venue I'd never been to, but was pretty easy to map out and get to, even if it was across town. So I decide not to doll up, since that hasn't worked for me in the past. I wear my "Jews Kick Ass" t-shirt, a pair of fitted jeans, no makeup. I go. Lots of cute and maybe-single men. Great venue. Did anyone talk to me? Fuck, no. One guy I thought was checking me out was actually eyeing the snotty-nosed dolled-up bitch who was standing behind me. I know because finally in the middle of the Giant Value set, he went up and started talking to her about who she had come to see. I don't think she liked him all that much because about 10 minutes later he was back to standing and dancing by himself. Dimwit. He should have talked to me.

So much for putting myself out there. Le sigh.

It would be depressing except that I ended up having fun just hanging by myself, staying as long as I wanted, and leaving right when I felt like it. I had my two beers, bought all three of the CDs for sale for Giant Value (I actually really liked the second band, too — the Monolith — but cash was short and I want to see them again before I commit to adding them to the collection. I was reminded once more how cool and great it is to be into local music, to see a show for $8 plus the cost of drinks and have it be more than worth it. And I really liked the Rickshaw Stop. Cool space, the people were a great crowd ... will have to pick a night to just randomly go there again.

Maybe this time someone will try to actually talk to me.

On Tuesday, Brian and I are going to try 8 Minute Dating. That means I have to figure out what to wear. Should I be nervous? Maybe I'll have some funny stories to tell about that once I've gone through it. Everybody wants to know.

October 5, 2005

So, am I obsessive?

Fuck yeah, I am. I think I need to get over it. But I'm not sure I want to.