Thursday, March 16, 2006

when commuters ATTACK

Soundtrack: Gorky's Zygotic Mynci - Barafundle

On the train this morning Giles - the Leach-Allott term for the Blackberry-wielding commuter genus - was not only shouting down his Blackberry, but also had his other mobile phone glued to his spare ear. He'd hang up the Blackberry, start on the mobile, and then scroll his Blackberry for the next number to call immediately after.

After 5stops the commuters started to attack.

While Giles was on the phone a lady opposite demanded that he keep it down. Smirks were exchanged around the carriage. Once Giles finished his call (other mobile fired up ready to go) a fraccas began:
'There are mobile free carriages you can use, you know'
'Everyone uses their mobile in there. Some of us want peace in the morning and you don't have to be so loud'
'I wasn't that loud'
At this point everyone else in the carriage, and I'm not exaggerating when I say everyone, started telling him what a prat he was and how he should keep it down. Now placed in my Top 10 Commuter Moments, post-kerfuffle Giles kept sheepishly holding his mobile/Blackberry to his ear, and then chickening out of using it.

Commuters can be so rude. I've mentioned before how amazed everyone seems to be at my DPN-crazy commuter knitting. The other day a lady got on the train, sat several seats in front of me, turned her whole body towards me and just sat there staring. After this incident I had vowed to put down my knitting and stare back, but when a lady pointed me out to a friend yesterday I just couldn't bring myself to be so rude back, and I just sat there blushing, sweating and making my needles sticky.

Still, the staring has been worthwhile as I have finished my first sock! I was so exhilerated by the process that I've already cast on for the next one (no Second Sock Syndrome for me!) and I've got a million different sock yarns on watch on ebay. This could be the end of me!

Monday, March 13, 2006

the first big weekend as a 27-year-old

Soundtrack: The Chiffons - One Fine Day

So that was quite a long weekend containing some fun but mainly illness. On my birthday Thom and I fled to Brighton for the day (the prevalent mist may or may not have exasperated my cold). The day was filled with sock knitting in the car, the Best. Lunch. Ever. at the Hop Poles, spending my record shopping budget down the Lanes and then crying when finding the most amazing psyche/acid folk record shop down the North Lanes but having no money left.

Whilst on North Lanes I walked past a shop and did a double-take - I had found a HABERDASHERY. I walked in. I gasped in horror. All the yarns were pastels or illuminous - not that I could even get near to the shelves with the boxes and bags on the floor. I was terrified and turned to go, whereupon the knitting shopkeeper (complete with beard) accosted me, looked me up and down, and with undertones of 'YOU're not loCAL' exclaimed 'Can I hELp you?'
'Err, I was just looking around, to see... err, sock yarn... err...'
'NO one knits SOCKS anymore!' [laughs maniacally]

Thom and I ran off in the vague direction of the sea. We found the Brighton coastline after an hour of running and looking over our shoulder (we didn't want to be special stuff). Despite Brighton Pier being shut, there was one place of refuge open for hot chocolate. It was a fun day, and well worth driving through torrential rain for.

On Thursday we drove into London to do some band recording. With 4hrs of driving and a 7hour session, I was armed with my sock knitting. Except - OH NO - I had lost the row counter. I was on row ? of knitting the foot of my sock. Where did I last have my knitting? Ah, in the front passenger seat.
'Dan, is my row counter in the glove compartment?'
'What does it look like?'
'A small blue cylinder with 2 numbers on'
'Nah, can't find it'.

And that was that. We drove around 900miles that weekend, and I was out of the house until Sunday. I was bitter all weekend, knowing I could probably have finished the bloody pair of socks by then, and smarting at the lost knitting time. Naturally, I found the row counter in the glove compartment on Monday night. Don't ever ask a man to look for lost knitting components.

The rest of the weekend was spent in Rochdale and Hertfordshire being very poorly. My dad took Thom and I out for a bracing walk along the Whitworth Moors on Friday morning; I was armed with earache and bogroll, but it was a lovely morning with some beautiful scenery. The walk obviously set me up nicely for the houseparty I went to on Saturday night - with a burning temperature I claimed my space on the floor in the corner of the room and went to bed at 9.30 whilst everyone else sang karaoke around me.

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

as Stevie Wonder once said...

Happy birthday to me ya. Oh yes, 21 years young for the 7th time. What a wonderful age to be.

Thom woke me up with the Stevie Wonder soundtrack rather inexplicably at 6.30. I have a bloody day off - I don't even get up that early to go to work - and I didn't open my pressies til about 8, so I don't know what that's all about! I think he was more excited than me.

4 cards arrived in the post today showing a wonderful sense of timing, including a little bit o' something from my secret pal, not to mention the adorable e-card pictured. Bless you!

Anyway, no time to chat. My camera and sock knitting are packed - I'm off to Brighton for the day!