I'm feeling much too scattered tonight to relate any sort of coherent story, so I'm just putting down some random thoughts. Anyone who makes it to the end of this entry gets a MAJOR PRIZE labeled "Fra-gee-lay."
I've been knitting a lot the past few years and have been on a sock kick for a while. I like knitting socks because I can finish them quickly, and sock yarn is bee-yoo-ti-ful. I have about a dozen pairs now in a variety of colors and patterns, and I love 'em. A little while ago, I was working on a sock in subtle variegated shades of violet and remembered a remark Celeste made about not having to deal with snow after I move to Georgia. Suddenly, I thought, "What the HELL am I going to do with handknit socks in an almost tropical climate??" It might get cold-ish there, but cold enough for wool socks? Gah, maybe I should raffle off all my socks. Oh, and Ed doesn't live in Savannah; he's about an hour away. I can't tell you exactly where he lives because then I'd have to kill you, and let's face it: I'm too lazy to do that.
You know the woman in the Columbia Pictures logo, at the beginning of movies? She looks just like Annette Bening. Go look, if you don't believe me.
Why won't Blogger accept entries I write in Word anymore? I tried pasting in a Word file, and Blogger just about had a hissy fit, flagging every other line as "invalid HTML," which kind of hurt my feelings. Now I have to write entries in Notepad, and I loathe Notepad. The lines wrap oddly, and the font is too tiny for my geezer eyes.
Today the rental inspector came over. I decided Kevin could deal with her and escaped to the grocery store because it makes me uncomfortable to have a strange woman poking around my house. I feel compelled to follow her around in case she gets the notion to inspect my unmentionables, too. When I got home, Kevin had to report in exhaustive detail everything she said, including numerous stories about her bazillion dogs. When he got to the story about her Pomeranian's eye POPPING OUT of its socket and the vet shoving it back in, I finally rebelled and said, "No more dog stories!" Jesus Christ, I did not need to know about that poor dog's eye.
Hey, I just figured out how to make the font bigger in Notepad. I'm SUCH a genius.
A few weeks ago, I had to get my new glasses adjusted because they kept slipping down my nose. I've never had that problem before because I have a freakishly large head. I mentioned this fact to the woman adjusting my glasses, and she asked whether I'd lost weight recently. I said yes, and she said, "Well, you know people lose weight from the top down, so maybe your head is smaller now." OK, first, who are these freaks who lose weight in their HEADS? And second, I don't think her theory is right. If it is, it's not working on me. I went down a half shoe size before my waist got smaller, and the last time I checked, my feet are below my waist. Also, I'm still wearing the same cup size in bras, so my boobs haven't gotten the memo about the top-down strategy, either.
Funniest typo ever (seen in a comment on a blog): "triads" for "tirades." Now three times as indignant! I like it.
I didn't get a lot of pictures while I was in Savannah because I kept forgetting to take my camera with me. Someone (ahem) did manage to get one picture of me early enough in the day that I wasn't too hot and sweaty yet, so I'm slapping it up and calling this an entry. It was taken in Monterey Square, where Mercer House is. No laughing at my freakishly large head!