Spazzmanda

I’m on the fence about this one, you guys be the judge.

Spotted multiple  in classified ads in the local paper recently:

YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE

“We met briefly at the (insert festival, city and date here to protect the innocent). On the back of your shirt it said (again, city specific.) While your escort was talking to another man you told me that your husband of 30 years had died of cancer. My wife died of cancer. I gave you my business card and asked you to call me. Why haven’t you called? I will spend the rest of my life making you happy. (phone number)”

The bitter loneliness here makes my heart ache for this man, in a perfect world this would be the beginning or happy ending of a Lifetime Movie starring Kevin Costner and Robin Wright-Penn.

However, I get caught on the presumptive “rest of your life” and almost ominous “you know who you are” that are both, in this day and age, a tad frightening. Or maybe I’m just hyper-sensitive.

Ah, the Classifieds, along with the scary restaurant cleanliness ratings are why I still read the paper.

Any thoughts?

Pretty low-key this year for Halloween, we hung with friends, went trick-or-treating with the framily, ate at Moe’s and went out around Gainesvegas. My man and I won the costume contest at a local bar! He got first place, $100, and I won second $50- I was totally robbed! I guess his Geiko Caveman was pretty sweet, but all night long I heard some hushed comments as I’d walk away of how much I looked like Flo the Progressive Lady. We had a blast.

(you can see all the photos here.)

“HELLO ATLANTA!  YOU wanted the BEST and YOU GOT THE BEST…!!!”

I was taken for a ride on the wild side on Monday night.

The Magic Man took me to see KISS.

In concert.

On the 7th row of the Philips Arena.

Let me tell you friends, I’ll NEVER be the same again.

By far, the most amazing live show I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I take back EVERY single snarky thing I’ve ever said about this band (like “I don’t get them” or “all their songs sound the same”.)

Surprisingly, I knew most of the songs they performed and retained about 75% of the factoids about the band I was ever told. (See darlin’, I listen!)

Makes me appreciate the Lil’ Gene I made  four years ago that much more… thank you Jeff for sharing this experience with me, I’ve been such a fool.

Next up, Lil’ Paul…  I love you Paul Stanley! (He doesn’t know it, but we share a deep and meaningful relationship.)

I am a newly converted uber-fan of KISS.

Here is the face:

Yeah, my throat hurts.

I came, I saw, I conquered and I left with a bag load of yarn, glorious yarn.  I had a BLAST  with my fine group of fiber friends fiends at SAFF in Asheville this year. Best of all, I took this as an opportunity to take a long overdue trip out of town with my mother, another newly-converted fiber-a-holic. Here is most of the crew (some had class/had to leave/could not sit still)

All photos from the trip HERE.

I didn’t take any classes this year, it was overwhelming enough just being in a huge showroom with yarns and fibers that I didn’t even know existed. I will take an inventory and blog about my precious purchases later, but for now I’ll focus on the trip itself. We left bright and early on Friday morning and met up with a crowd at Waffle House. I had a pecan waffle and it rocked. I don’t normally do sweets or carbs at breakfast so this was a real treat.

Susan was positively gleeful from the discovery $85 in her SAFF purse from LAST year, and I was soon to discover why.  It only took us about 2 hours to get there. Not a bad road trip and I was antsy. I was finishing up the neverending 3/4 sleeves from my diminishing rib cardi and was lamenting the amount of space it was taking up in my bag. I also vowed not to purchase anything on day one, no, I would be mindful and wait until at least day 2.

I bought a beautiful sterling shawl pin and a sweater’s worth of yarn before lunchtime.

I was absolutely high from the spending and had to sit down for a while to recover.  We ate at Carrabas that night and I committed carbicide with gnocchi and sausage and bread and calamari. On to the Hampton Inn to laugh and knit, and laugh (we’re a loud bunch) talking about homosexual gorillas and exchanging recipes. I learned what qiviut was and how yummy it was to behold and how pretty Janet worked it up and how dangerously decadant an expense it could be.  I shopped and knitted my Saturday away, and since it was no longer raining we went and looked at the animals (probably mom’s favorite part of the trip)

I also bough sock yarn for me, it might not end up being socks as I got this KEWL beaded scarf pattern too. Come to think of it, I bought a lot of stuff for beading yarn. Go figure.

Me and my yarn will be VERY happy together thankyouverymuch.

I drove mom’s golfcart all weekend (the Prius) and didn’t like it one bit in the rain but converted after I figured out what all the buttons were for. There’s a lot of buttons to push in this car and no key!

All in all it was PERFECTION and we’re already scheming about next year. Like I’m bringing much smaller projects and making this and some of these and bringing much more cash. Anyone want to give me some of their unwanted cash for SAFF next year?

Ok, so I don’t normally like to talk about work here because this is here and that is over there, and I don’t like to mush my here and there together too much, you know?

Well, all I’m going to say is this girl hates public speaking and this girl had to speak at a big ‘do’ (for only 3 minutes) AND was one of 3 (out of 24) organizations selected to do so, and it was a big deal.

A very, very big deal.

Fox was my date. She kept me calm and laughing and then took this picture so I could remember it because what with the blood rushing in my ears and all the diet coke, I really wouldn’t have recalled a thing. (thanks Fox!)

I’m going to my first “SAFF” this weekend and I can’t wait!

SAFF is the Southeastern Animal Fiber Fair, and apparently like ‘mecca’ for knitterz. It is just outside of Asheville, my birthplace, so I’m also taking the opportunity to take a long overdue road trip with my Mother. We’re both SAFF ‘virgins’ and we’re traveling with a whole crew of crazy fiber finatics, it is going to be crazy fun. Crazy, crazy fun.

I’m literally counting the hours.

I haven’t packed clothes, but I have the camera, GPS, ipod speakers and the wine accounted for- thank goodness. You have to prioritize.

Not much actually… other than spending 4 days with over 20,000 fanatical freaks, geeks and butt cheeks (seriously, it should have been called “Butt Con” this year.) I had 5 costumes to debut, but only got around to 4 of them.  Hey, there was a LOT to do! This one above was a wonderful collaboration with my mother which goes something like this:

“Mom, I want a vintage styled Star Trek dress.”  and Mom says “Ok.” And I’m all “So, if I cut out the pieces, will you put it together for me?” To which she’s like “Yup.” and a week later “poof” we have a dress. (The hair was all my jumbo bumpits used to achieve a retro-do.)

This photo was taken after the big parade, Jeff (that’s him on the left) marched with our friends’ 6 year old “B.” He was such a trooper. (groan. I know, even I thought it was a bad pun.) But I was so stinkin’ proud of this little boy, he was such a little man. He posed for photos and pointed his little blaster and put on a great show for all the fans that were positively beside themselves in the presence of teeny stormtrooper. He was the only teeny trooper in the bunch. HERE is a link to a photo of him with the whole brigade. (Is brigade even the right term here? Is there some other snazzypants Star Wars word I should be using?)

I have quite a bit more to share, but will have to follow up later. I’m nursing a wee bit of a cold and need to focus on preparing for my exodus to the beach this weekend!

So peace out, live long and prosper, and may the force be with you and stuff.

I love that my grandpa has a scanner, a computer and lots of time on his hands.

My grandparents at 1972 Square Dancers Convention in Macon, Georgia.

They met Jimmy Carter that night.

So, Jeff and I went on the most perfect date on Friday night. We traveled 30 whole minutes to partake in the Big “E” Festival in Cornelia, Georgia. An annual festival exclusively for Elvis devotees, I am baffled it took me so long to make the pilgrimage. Friday night featured performances by winners from previous years, the junior level of the competition was absolutely mind boggling, and then there was this guy.

He performed for over an hour as if he was singing to a stadium and not a bunch of folks on the front porch of the Loudermilk Boarding House Museum. And he was fantastic. He was much better than that dope in Memphis that said he was present the day Elvis passed and was allegedly one of his best friends… I wasn’t convinced at all. (That dude seemed as if he’d told enough tall tales that they eventually became fact.)

I was in absolute heaven, the best cheap date night ever, live music, museum tour, shaved ice for two, it was awesome. The museum itself featured the most bizarre assortment of Elvis memorabilia, anything and everything king-related, but with a top-notch gift shop, I had to restrain myself, really I did.

Okay, I geeked out a little bit, I’ll admit.

Even though it was an almost perfect evening, I must say that I have one small criticism of the event. The lady that has shouldered the responsibility for the event seemed a little bit off. And not in her devotion to Elvis, that was spot on. Rather I’m speaking of her enthusiasm for the event itself. As she was kicking things off and thanking her helpers she also stated to the crowd that it would be the last year that the festival was at the boarding house and she was not sure where it would go to, if anywhere, next year. When asked by a disappointed audience member the reason why, she flatly stated “Cuz it’s too much work.”

It sort of put us off just a little. Yes, it was probably true. Yes, holding this particular festival in such a small town is probably a thankless and exhausting job. Maybe the city doesn’t support her as it should? The bank let her borrow the tents and she seemed to have printers support in signage, etc. I don’t know for certain the details and won’t presume to understand, but you surely don’t say something like that to your guests, many of whom have traveled from out of state to support your wackiness. It made us feel a little like she had said “thanks for coming, paying entry, shopping the gift shop, supporting the vendors, but you really aren’t worth all the trouble.”  Also, part of the draw for coming to this event is that the ticket price (a nominal $10) included a tour of the museum. As far as venues go, the front porch of the boarding house made a quaint and homey yet kitschy backdrop to a wonderful group of performers. I can’t imagine folks would want to go to this anywhere else.  It made me sad, but I am glad I got to see the 10th Annual Big E Festival in all its glory before it is ultimately retired.

Never knew you all were so easily amused. Glad since I have nothing much to report on current events I can at least supply humor through a sprinkling of self-humiliation. For the sake of humor, I suppose that is a sacrifice I am willing to make. (I have no shame.)

Thus, I am pleased to unveil MORE Bad Hair for your amusement.  I’ll never forget the “home perm.”  I think I had two, the second being the disaster. I’m guessing the home perm happened in part because it was the 80′s and we all were trying to achieve big hair, no matter our age, and it was due in large part to my mother being bored one day and thinking to herself  “Self, I need a project. Hmmm… let’s see, I think my daughter could use a new look!” So she tromped out to the drugstore for the box o’ chemicals and swung by the library and to borrow the “The Parent Trap” with Hayley Mills on VHS (because it is a little known fact that the amount of time it takes to roll and process  a home perm is precisely and exactly the same rolling time from start to finish for this movie.)  Fact. I should know. We did it… twice.

Not too bad, I suppose for a home perm. But the bangs are straight and the brows need a prunin’. (Notice I haven’t mentioned the mouth full of metal? Not going to either.) Aww, I think I had just gotten my ears pierced. Sweet.

Lord help us. Nice swatch, Spazz, it matches nicely with the dynamic black and white mini blinds in the background. I think this was the phase where I tried to defy gravity with my bangs but remained unsuccessful due to my lack of skill with a curling iron and heavy, floppy, hairspray-resistent folicles.  Is it the photo, or do I actually have sideburns here? On the upside, there do appear to be two seperate brows here, so I may have been formally introduced to tweezers (but not yet a trained tweezer samurai.)  I am not certain, but this may be the most awkward photo I have seen of myself without my cokebottle glasses. Oh braces, lovely, lovely braces. Themost unfortunate form of torture to a preteen. I already looked ridiculous! How could it possibly get any worse?

Aaaaaaah. Add a dance number. (And 5,6,7,8!)

Everything is better with glitter. Everything.

Have a lovely weekend folks.