(yeah, yeah, gratuitous bathroom mirror self portrait, I know)
It only took me how long? Multiple months.
Had to laugh, though, when I tried it on tonight. Critter Boy took one look, giggled, and said “yeah, those are huge”. He, um… likes it.

In other news:
Go check out Booga’s site. Do the world a favor and buy a pattern (or two or ten) from her and send a nasty note to Belle Armoire about their blatant and admitted copyright violation. And don’t ever buy another copy of BA. People that so callously violate copyrights don’t deserve to be supported.

(An interesting thought about crappy treatment – the prevailing thought seems to be that folks who work mostly online are somehow less deserving of respect and are also less of a threat. I’ve heard it countless times, but can’t imagine how that idea still has such a foothold. If you treat someone crappily in person, be it a customer or a copyright holder or whatever, chances are they might tell a few people. But piss off a blogger? Good lord, that’s asking for damage. People from all over the world are going to read about it, and post about it on their own sites, and so on and so on and so on until a measurable amount of business has been lost. Dumb, dumb, dumb.)

And, in further news of people treating each other badly, I was the recipient of some quality road rage this afternoon. While waiting at the ferry tollbooth for my credit card to be processed (I was buying a book of commuter tickets, so all you ferry commuters can getcher panties outta yer cracks now – I’m not one of *those* people), some guy on a bicycle pulls up behind me. He apparently thought I was ‘chit chatting’ with the tollbooth chickie, and got pissy about it. The ferry was due to leave in TWENTY FIVE minutes. It’s not like there was a)any hurry, or b)a line. Not that there was any chit chatting going on anyway. So he starts bashing the back of my car with his bike. And then proceeds to start yelling about it with the “what the hell is going on up there???” crap, and then, get this, he SPITS on the back of my car and rides around flashing what was presumably his bike pass at the ticket taker.

Now, I’m not one to sit back and take this kind of shit offa anyone, especially some asshat in logo’d up lycra. And, really, if you’re going to be an ass, a closed off ferry dock covered with state troopers isn’t the place to do it. Damn those boys are nice.

I talked to one of the troopers, he looked at the back of my car and confirmed the spit, and went and had a chat with the guy. Came back a little bit later with the guy’s name, address, phone number, drivers license number, and date of birth. Just in case I wanted to follow it all up with a call and a claim to the guy’s insurance company. Woo!

Best part of the whole thing? Dude was SIXTY. I kid you not. And he’s damn lucky I didn’t throw it into reverse and back over his uppity old ass.

In: General, knit-o-rama | | #