Ever since I read Chelsea’s 7-2 entry, I’ve been feeling GUILTY for not updating. I sit here, late at night, clicking away through my favorite blogs, sometimes muttering obscenties at them when they haven’t been updated and it’s SOOO HYPOCRTICAL because *I* am the WORST. BLOGGER. EVER.
I have lots of pictures of my adorable baby neice and my…uh, I mean HER birthday party, pics to show of a *FINISHED* baby blanket (yeah, you read that right), and stories to tell (like how we ‘stole’ a boat and almost had the cops called on us!!!). Have I shared any of that with you? NO!
Sorry truth is, you’ll just have to wait till my lasy ass gets around to uploading the pics to get the dirt (or well, till you SEE me, and then I’ll tell you in person )because as I said above, I am the WORST. BLOGGER. EVER.
Oh, well, ok…
Here’s a story for you from last weekend (kind of sad actually, at least, *I* think it’s sad. heh.)…
My boy, my best friend, and I were walking along late Saturday night, singing the Three’s Company Theme Song and generally skipping along (don’t ask) when I literally STOPPED. DEAD IN MY TRACKS.
Both of my peeps then stopped and looked at me curiously as I stood there in mild shock. After a brief pause, this is the conversation that ensued:
Me: BooBoo (again. don’t ask), is it me, or are the first four letters on that awning K – N – I – T?
Boy: No Boo, it’s not just you, that’s what it says.
At this pont, the conversation was cut short by ME running ahead at lightning speed to press my wee nose up against the glass of “The KNITting Cove,” leaving my friends standing in my dust, shaking their heads.
Why is this sad? You would have done it too? It was YARN for Christ’s sake, how else were you supposed to react, you say?
If you have to REALLY ask why that was indeed a sad display, then you my fellow fiber-obsessed friend, are in denial. Perhaps we both need an intervention, yes?