First up:

A sock. This is a top down plain old sock. I’m using some Koigu I bought years ago in LA. In LA, I went through a sort of yarn-buying compulsion. I was having a hard time in LA. I was going to a lot of therapy. I bought yarn. A lot of sock yarn. I think I have most colors that Koigu made. Now that I’m on a yarn fast, I’m using up all of that Koigu.

I don’t love these colors. The needles are too small. I remember buying this yarn because it was bright and weird. That was my thought. It went like this, “Oh, you have all of the non-bright and weird colors here. Why not get some of the bright weird colors?” So I did that. I resent these socks a little bit, but I’m trucking away on them. These are a good project when I want something small to work on.

And I’m also working on my Hourglass Sweater.

It occurs to me that I might not have enough yarn to finish this project. It might also be too big, despite my using smaller needles and knitting at a smaller guage. I’ve not knit a sweater that is actually good. I’m just preparing myself for the worst.

I really want to knit the sexy vesty pattern. But I don’t have the yarn for it. And I’ve committed to the Hourglass Sweater. I need to finish it before I do anything else.

I’d also like to knit the $5 in Paris in ivory and black.

There’s a thing where people knit a sweater a month. I don’t think I’ve knit a sweater in a year. Basically, my lack of knitting skillz is bumming me out. I think I need to join a knitting club.

Wow. That was a great blog post.

Everyone is lovely. It’s a huge company so I probably won’t meet a lot of the people who work there. The main message at the company is get your work done. Here are the tools to use to do it. If you don’t have those tools, here’s who can get them for you. It’s all very straightforward and it’s a humanely run business. And because it’s an agency in town, they have the required video game/ rock band station and a ping pong table. I was told by the building manager that I should invite a few people to play table tennis to get to know people. I’m not really ready for my coworkers to learn of my fumbling athletic ineptitude ping pong prowess.

You know how you walk into a place and you can tell everyone is miserable? I just don’t get that vibe there. When I ask people how long they’ve been there, the minimum has been three years.

For now, I’m working part-time and that’s a good transition for me. I’m not quite ready to dive back into the 8-5.

What I do is I write blog posts and research blogs and I’ll do some twitter and facebook things as I get going. It’s a social media position.

Oh — one story. Last night I was in the elevator going home and a woman got on who looked very familiar. We played the how do I know you game. HIGH SCHOOL. I went to high school in San Diego. And here’s a woman who I went to high school with at my new company in Portland. She’s been there three years.

As I get into the swing of things, I’m sure I’ll have more tales.

Thanks for all of your awesome comments over that past few days. I appreciate it.

My first day of work was just fine. I didn’t cry in the bathroom and everyone answered my questions and introduced themselves and I remembered everyone’s names, except for one guy who I’ll have to ask again and feel like a jerk because I hate having to ask someone’s name twice.

I’m actually very good with names but this guy introduced himself near the end of the day so I was name-full in my brain.

The best part of the day: hours to work on something uninterrupted. Hours to write in quiet and solitude.

The worst part of the day: Missing Archie so badly it felt like someone cut a hole in my stomach.

I’m off to another day today where I’ll have even more hours to work on things uninterrupted. It’s really quite nice.

I don’t like poorly made clothes. I especially don’t like them when they’re expensive. I don’t like clothes that are $80 and made in China or Sri Lanka or wherever and there are a zillion of those same shirts hanging right behind that first one with the seams about to split. I don’t like that the quality of clothes at Target is the sames as Anthropologie or Banana Republic. I’d buy clothes at Target, but the clothes there really don’t fit. The clothes there are made for boxes. To fit over boxes. Small boxes, medium boxes and large boxes.

Forget about Forever 21. I’ve never been able to fit into a single thing I’ve tried on there.

Jeans are too long because I’m short. I tried on a pair of chinos at J Crew and cried because though they were a size 6, they made me look matronly. Child-bearing hips and crumpled front to match.

When we were at J Crew the saleswoman was named McKenzie. I think she was 22. She said things like “Oh my god that looks sooooooooo kah-yuuuuuuuuute.” It feels bad, Internet, when someone lies to your face. Even when she has to because of her job.

She asked Fancyhats how I was doing in there and Fancyhats was honest: “Not good.” And McKenzie wanted to know more. She wanted to know what I was looking for. Why was I looking for it. And Fancyhats told her it was my first day at a new job and I wanted some new clothes.

And she said, “Oh, yeah. I’ve had college students in here who’ve never worn anything but sweats and need new clothes. I totally understand.”

I put on my regular clothes, which were not sweats, and we left. (Message to J Crew: I hadn’t darkened your door in more than five years, and I’m sorry I went in there this time. Never. Again.)

We tried Nordstrom and Anthropologie, which didn’t have a size 8 or 6 in the entire store. We ended up at Banana Republic where I bought three things despite the saleswoman calling me honey and Parisian and honey some more.

I wanted clothes that are professional but stylish. Classic and hip. I wanted things that are well-made. I want clothes that fit me — a woman of average height with a woman’s body who is also a size 6. Or 8. I don’t think there is such a store.

My first day is tomorrow and I’m very excited, Internet. I’m wearing a Banana Republic boyfriend blazer, and nice mauve top and my skinny jeans. And maybe an ironic scarf. It’s a very Parisian look, according to the Banana Republic saleslady.

And I’m nervous, Internet. I’m not afraid of spiders, I look forward to public speaking, but first days of work make me feel like what I imagine people feel when they have to get on stage. Fortunately, I’ve been working with my new company as a freelancer and the people there are so lovely. Really, really friendly. And I have a mentor showing me the ropes on the first day. And I’ll have my laptop with me. And I’m supposed to be looking at Twitter as part of my job, so I’ll have my friends nearby. But I just get nervous, Internet.

So wish me luck!

GET TICKETS HERE AND NOW!

But I also had my standard pre-event anxiety dreams. Those involved empty seats. So don’t put me through another night of that and buy your Entertainment for People tickets please. I found out that we’re giving away Girls Gone Wild paraphernalia too. Yep. They have paraphernalia. And we’re giving it away.

I also had dreams that I was pregnant. I’ve had two nights of dreaming about this. Last night’s was that I was ready to deliver and hosting Entertainment for People and decided that I’d rather just give birth at home. In my dream, I had the same feeling I have when I try out a new knitting project — oh! This will be an adventure!

I’m not really clear on these dreams. Being pregnant is the last (very last) thing I’d like to be. It took me four years to fit back into my regular jeans. No child is worth giving up a size 29 Joe’s jeans.

NO JEANS LEFT BEHIND.

And K8 sent me a list of Portland preschools that offer full days so I can go be a business lady and Archie can still learn stuff and OH MY GOD WHY IS IT SO EXPENSIVE?!!? Sending him to a full day preschool is a lot like owning a second house. Except I don’t get equity.

Also, what is the preschool for actual working parents? Which one is that? You know, the one that offers care during hours where I can drop off my kid and pick him up and still fit in a full work day? WHY DON’T THEY MAKE THIS?

So that’s what I’m doing today. Applying to full day preschools. Because now Archie and I are both fancy working people.

I shouted again. But I want you to get your tickets. A lot. I want that. We like a nice, full house at our shows. And we also have the best audience in Portland. We like seeing you. So get ‘em!

One of my superpowers is getting trapped in enclosed spaces. I bet you didn’t know that, but it’s true. If there’s a tricky doorknob, it will totally trap me. If you have a car with automatic locks, you will lock me in and I will set off your car alarm getting out.

One of the most horrifying experiences of my life was in London. I was traveling alone. I was coming up from the tube in one of their cattle car elevators. It was rush hour. I was in the middle of the crush of Londoners. The elevator just stopped. IT STOPPED, INTERNET. And because it was full of Brits, no one had an emotion. They all just stood there.

I am an American and my first thought was, THE TERRORISTS HAVE WON!!!! And then I got dry mouthed and my heart started racing because I have a touch of the claustrophobia naturally AND NO ONE WAS DOING ANYTHING! I might have felt tears. So I said, “Um. Could someone maybe please pick up the phone maybe and call the operator and perhaps we could maybe start moving?” It was a big moment for me. Because I was scared of Londoners. And someone did. They called the guy and ten minutes later we were moving.

Well, yesterday I GOT TRAPPED AGAIN.

My palms are sweating just thinking about it again.

Um.

Okay.

Archie had to go potty so we were let into a building that was normally closed on Mondays. This building is very big with many nooks and crannies. There were a couple of people doing maintence on the building, hence we were let in. We ran into the women’s restroom where I had two thoughts: “Oh, no one has cleaned up since the Sunday rush” and “huh, it’s cold in here.”

Archie went potty; we washed our hands. We went to open the door and IT WAS LOCKED FROM THE INSIDE.

This restroom is a public restroom. It’s tiled and has no windows and an industrial door. And it was locked. And the building was closed. And I didn’t have my phone because we were just running in to use the potty. And the building has warrens and paths and various rooms.

I started knocking and I could tell that no one was going to hear that.

I had my Frye boots on and I started kicking at the door.

Nothing.

It didn’t take long for me to spin the situation to its logical conclusion: we were going to spend the night in there with no food or blankets or anything and OH MY GOD. OH MY GOOOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDD!

I had the dry mouth panic thing. My heart was racing.

I had a single clear thought: this is what panic feels like. I am panicking. I must not panic because I can’t spend the whole night in here with my heart racing. That really won’t be cool.

I kept kicking and Archie was pounding on the door and FINALLY a dude showed up.

He opened the door: “Is there a problem?”

I shoved Archie through the tiny opening the man had left and I leaped out of that DEATH TRAP.

“THE DOOR WAS LOCKED. IT WAS LOCKED WE WERE LOCKED INSIDE. OH DEAR GOD, THE TERRORISTS ARE WINNING!!!!”

And he didn’t seem to believe me. So he had to try it. He told me to stay right there. And he locked himself in there. I opened it back up and he was like “Oh, and huh, and we need to get that fixed.”

Meanwhile I was screaming inside and longing for the fresh air of WHATEVER because I HAD BEEN TRAPPED.

So I grabbed Archie and we ran out of that building. And I spent the rest of my evening being at once grateful that we escaped and also panicked at the possibility of it happening again.

So this is the best I can do, Fan Club. I’d like us to make a promise. If I ever go missing, instead of hunting for my dead body in the nearby wilderness, you’ll check all of the enclosed spaces in the area. Chances are, I’m in one of those. And crying.

ALSO SIGN UP FOR THE NARRATIVE ACTUALIZATION RETREAT!!!

Sorry for the shouting.

I know all of you were sitting there wondering what I got Fancyhats for Valentine’s Day. I’m sorry I kept you up last night FREAKING OUT because you had no idea. Well, my present was less successful.

He requested a burgundy beanie. Which I made. A little too big. It actually fit over the ice cream maker, Internet. I’m going to just blame the yarn for this one. I used some Manos I had in my stash. I remember loving this yarn and now I simply dislike it.

Because it made the hat too big.

And it’s not a very nice hat.

I like knitting Fancyhats things from nice yarn, of a quality that he’ll appreciate. The first scarf I knit him was part silk. Manos is not a nice yarn. It’s fine. It was the first expensive yarn I bought, which means it was pricier than what I was used to, but now it scrapes the bottom of the barrel for what I’d pay for quality yarn.

So I shrunk/felted the hat and it’s a little bit better.

ISN’T IT SO MUCH FUN BEING A MOMMY BLOGGER?!?

Anyway, that’s a little bit better, but I think I’m just going to re-do the whole damn thing and knit him a scarf I’ve been imagining. It’s knit length-wise and from some nice cashmere or something. He’ll like it. Better than this stupid hat. Which makes me angry.

Also, I have some good news to share with you in the next few days. It has to do with my professional life so don’t go speculating about my marital state or my ovaries. Both of which will remain as they are.

My ovaries especially.

I do not need gastric bypass surgery.

I don’t.

I DON’T.

Despite this:

From Fancyhats’s email to me with this picture attached:

“Hanger steak with chimichurri

Stir fried veggies

Sauteed chard w/ balsamic vinegar

Garnished with love”

That’s also a Fancypants bottle of wine in Oregon Pinot glasses. These glasses are specially designed for Oregon Pinots. I only know this because Fancyhats has informed me of this several times. He’s particular that way.

We like sitting next to each other for dinner. I read somewhere that sitting next to your date for dinner is ridiculous. We also like eating at the bar when we go to restaurants. If you haven’t done this, I highly recommend it. It’s like dinner theater, but different.

And then…AND THEN…this happened:

I’ve decided that I want to be an ice cream pro. I want to be known for my fantastic ice creams. And just dream up wonderful ice cream combos. I want to be some sort of Willy Wonka of ice cream except I’ll keep the factory all to myself because everyone knows children ruin things (See Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Last Chapter, The Glass Elevator).

This is my third batch of ice cream. It’s Chocolate Velvet Ice Cream. I used regular Hershey’s Unsweetened Cocoa Powder and Scharffenberger 65% chocolate. We cut up some 85% dark chocolate bits to throw in too.

OMG it was the best ice cream I’ve ever tasted. So silky and so much chocolate. I think it kept me up last night.

Fancyhats gilded the lily, as it were, by adding some homemade whipped cream to the top.

It was Willy Wonka level ice cream.

My next batch is going to be vanilla with candied pecans, I think. That sounds good. And then I’d like to venture into some sort of lemon, blood orange ice cream situation.

Leave your ice cream flavor suggestions in comments, but please note I will not be making any sort of basil ice cream or lavender ice cream because I think those flavors are just silly.

And, for Valentine’s Day, Fancyhats got me MICHAEL BUCHINO!

This is a limited edition screen print by my friend (and Entertainment for People poster designer) Buchino.

And Fancyhats had it framed. Fancyhats has a rule that only original art or numbered art goes on the walls. (See, particular.) I have three signed pieces of art and the rest of my walls are decorated with posters from our events. What? We have awesome event posters.

I love that poster. Don’t you? It’s totally Portland. Rain – check. Hoodie – check. Beard – check. I love the blues and the way Portland is written. Love it. I’m not saying you should order one, because Fancyhats as expressly forbidden me from promoting the poster because he doesn’t want everyone having one, but it’s so cute! (Again, particular.)

So this one will go up in the living room. I thought about having it in my bedroom, but I just don’t know if I want to wake up every morning and have my first thought be of Buchino.

(I stole this picture from Buchino’s Etsy site. I have no idea who to credit for this picture. Someone leave a comment and I’ll correct it. Pic by Nancy Buchino!)

I’ve had sort of a mixed relationship with Valentines. I went to college at San Fransisco State in the 90’s and I wore overalls and listened to the Indigo Girls and Tori so at that point, Valentines Day was just a way for the greeting card companies to stick it to us, and true love was just a myth BECAUSE MEN WERE TERRIBLE.

Then I had boyfriends and good girl friends and Valentines Day was pretty innocuous. I never expected flowers and if we went out, that was great, but making dinner was nice too.

I’ve never had a terrible boyfriend so I’ve never had to do a boyfriend bbq. I never had to hang out with my girlfriends and curse this one or that one. I think because I have pretty sensible friends who don’t tend toward histrionics about men. Histrionics about other things. IMPORTANT THINGS. Like eating too many cookies, having a big zit, not fitting a pair of jeans, or missing WHOLE SEASONS of Project Runway. Believe me, these are important things to get worked up about. I say that because I’ve been worked about each of those things over the past week.

This year, Archie’s school sent a memo home that said Valentines Day is a celebration of love and friendship. For once, I got excited about Valentines Day. I can get behind celebrating love and friendship.

So that’s what I’ll be doing on Sunday. I’ll be celebrating love and friendship. As part of my celebration of friendship and love, I’m going to think about all of you. Because I’ve made really great friends from this blog.

And I’m going to hang out with Fancyhats. Because, you know, I love him. A lot. More than I thought possible. And if it weren’t for him, I’d be sitting around on Valentines Day celebrating friendship and moderate contentment.

XOML