Questionnaire for Ravelry Summer of Love Swap

Do you knit or crochet?
For our purposes here, let's just say I crochet. (I have knit something in my lifetime but it may be another half century before I venture to knit again.)

How long have you been at your craft?
Half a century give or take a decade or so. (I learned when I was 5 but I guess I've only actively crocheted for about 6 years in all that time.)

Do you spin? What type of spinning?
Not the kind of spinning you're talking about!

What are your favorite yarns/fibers?
I haven't had enough experience with enough yarns to say! I'm kind of new to yarn snobbery. I hate to admit this, but I'm most used to "plain wrap" yarn like good ol' Red Heart acrylic. That doesn't necessarily mean I like it all that much. I just haven't ventured into the exotics too much yet.

What are your least favorite yarns/fibers?
Wool, cobweb mohair and bedspread cotton. (Actually, I really like wool but I'm allergic to it. Whenever I break down and use it, I regret it.)

What are your favorite colors?
Depends on what I'm making. I love heather-y colors. My personal palette is Spring/Autumn line, so black and white are out. But most of my crocheting is for others, so I can get excited about any color.

What are your least favorite colors?
In general, non-colors like neutrals, black, white, beige (but see below re the 200 squares.) I'm not fond of maroon.

Are there any yarns/brands that you are dying to work with but never have?
See "favorite yarns" question, above. I've also got a crochet project in mind (a toy, actually) that calls for colorful self-striping sock yarn.

What is/are your favorite types of projects to knit/crochet?
Wearable stuff for babies and children and scarves/hats for BFFs (I make BFFs too easily to have just one) and toys.

What are you currently working on?
A puffy poncho for a child; a purse for a child and booties. Lots and lots of booties.

Anything you plan to work on this summer?
Cotton booties and caps for babies on life support in the hospital and cotton wash cloths.
(NOTE: I have plenty of cotton and acrylic yarn for these projects. I don't need any more.)

I'm also in the 200 squares group on Ravelry and we're crocheting 200 squares. I haven't got the yarn for it yet, but I'm leaning toward earth tones (brown, camel) plus aqua, cornflower and navy blues as accents in Vanna's Choice yarn. I don't think there's a dye lot so I can get the yarn piecemeal. (Hint)

Then there are the triplets for whom I'm making lacy ponchos (see Ravelry queue). I think I'm going to use the fuschia fuzzy acrylic I have in my stash for those.

What is your favorite FO? (Post a pic if you would like.)
The baby cap pictured above. Also see my flickr photostream.

What is your oldest UFO?
A pair of baby booties for a the kid for whom I'm making the poncho. She has a little sister now.

Are there any techniques that you want to learn?
Yes. There's a way to do something that looks like Fair Isle in crochet using the afghan/Tunisian stitch. I'd like to do that. I'd also like to do free-form crocheting but I'm giving myself a few years to learn that. And I'll ignore my allergy to wool because I really want to learn to felt.

Are you on Ravlery? What's your ID?
Yes. Myownigloo

Are you a sock knitter?
No. I am a sock (ahem) crocheter.

What are your foot measurements?
Size 8.5 shoe

Do you collect anything?
Besides dust? I'd like to collect interesting egg cups, but I only have two plain ones right now.

I like penguins, but don't want any that aren't practical (IOW, no stuffed animals or knickknacks). Anything penguin themed that isn't Christmasy but can be used for something (ice cream scoop, pencil sharpener, pens, mouse pads, stud earring, etc.), I'm all over it!

Ditto ladybugs.

Ditto jellyfish.

Do you have a yarn winder and/or swift?
No, neither. I live in a very small apartment. OTOH, I could certainly use a swift if it folds up flat and goes into a closet.

Do you love sweets? What are your favorites?
I hate all sweets except those start with the letters C-h and end with the letters L-A-T-E. Oh, and tiramisu and Napoleons and coffee ice cream and of course pecan pie. Then there's Red Vines and Goobers and M&Ms and Snickers... (See allergies below).

What are your favorite scents?
Truly natural fragrances are okay. Rosewater, lavendar, sandalwood, essential oils, etc. No perfumes, please (allergies and asthma).

Where do you keep your needles/hooks?
I have a roll-up case that I ordered from eBay but I haven't received it yet to see whether it will be sufficient. I also keep an assortment of totes and little bags for supplies in a bin under my bed and throw them away when they wear out. And I'm hard on them, so I'm always in the market for a cute project tote.

Do you have a wishlist (Amazon, Etsy, etc?)
Not that it's all that relevant here, but: Amazon.

Even better: DaWanda and Etsy, too!

Having a birthday this summer?
Nope. I just had it on May 16. But I like unbirthday presents just fine and my wedding anniversary is June 25.

Are you allergic to anything?
Allergic to perfume-y stuff like sachets, soaps, perfumes, candles, but unscented are okay. Wool and I don't always get along, but the softer alpacas and mohairs, etc., are OK. And truth be told --

(I'm having a hard time typing this. The little devil on my shoulder is fighting with the little angel.)

-- I am pre-diabetic.

(I can't believe I said that!)

(Ouch! Don't hit me!)

No sweets for me, eh?

Suggested alternatives to sweets:
coffee beans
herbal teas
spices and meat rubs (I like to cook)
jerky
wasabi peas
lime-chili peanuts and cashews from Trader Joe's
Teeccino (I like all flavors)
dark chocolate with 72% cocoa (in very small quantities)

Good-Bye Amanda

I always admired your spirit and determination. I wish we could have had more time on this earth together. I will think of you every time I laugh with my daughter or sing your songs. You ain't singin' no sad songs anymore.

Uh-0h (Not that I didn't know this already....)

You Are 44% Evil

You are evil, but you haven't yet mastered the dark side. Fear not though - you are on your way to world domination.

How Evil Are You?

My Funky Inner Hair Color: Orange!

Your Hair Should Be Orange

Expressive, deep, and one of a kind. You pull off "weird" well - hardly anyone notices.

What's Your Funky Inner Hair Color?

No one has ever said this to my face. I'm not quite sure how to take it: You pull off "weird" well - hardly anyone notices.

Bad News/Good News

First, The Bad

Lately I've been wondering whether I have Alzheimer's or dementia or senility or something like that.

I thought I'd found the answer to the problem in nutrition. I don't always include the oil allotment in my daily diet. Because it's only a couple of teaspoons, I tend to try to save it up. I'll use a fat-free dressing on my salad at lunch thinking that I'll want to have olive oil on my dinner salad, and then end up not eating a salad at dinner.

Add that to the fact that I'm too Points cheap on the Flex Plan to eat anything but fat-free everything: milk, yogurt, cheese, and the result is I was virtually on a fat-free diet for most of the days of the week for a couple of months.

For a few weeks I've had this intermittent memory loss. It's not my usual ditziness, which is somewhat always there and tends to be endearing and cute, but I'm at least aware of it. This was scary memory loss that made me wonder whether DH was going to get a telephone call from some men in white coats saying they had me in a padded cell and would he please come sign the commitment papers.

Of course, anything that affects me as dramatically as that gets me poring through my nutritional books and what did I discover? (Not that I didn't already know this at one time or another....) If you take all the fat out of your diet, your body won't absorb some vital vitamins and minerals. One of them is calcium. Another are some B vitamins that are crucial to cognitive functioning.

I changed my daily routine to take my oil on a teaspoon with my other vitamins right after breakfast each morning. If I wanted olive oil on a salad, I just counted the Points. I did feel better, but there wasn't a really appreciable difference in the memory loss.

I still felt as though I'd lost my "edge." I was sleepy more often and worried nearly constantly about it.

It was affecting my work. My head had a constant pressure in it and I had to think really hard to do normal everyday things. It took a lot of effort to get through the day.

I believe I now know how someone with Alzheimer's must feel in their good moments.

A couple of days ago I suddenly recalled that I'd had a head injury a few weeks ago when a six-foot-long window shade roller fell from about 10 feet over my head onto it.

I was dazed but didn't fall over unconscious, so I just continued with my day.

Today I asked DH to take me to the doctor to see if the accident and the brain fog symptoms were related and yes, I have a concussion! The doctor expects the symptoms to last as long as two months.

I'm getting a CT scan next week to make sure nothing's going on in there that we need to worry about. The doctor didn't think there was because my neurological tests were normal, but just in case....

And Now for the Good

It's temporary.

And Even More Good

For those following the weight loss:

1. Not only can I wear that red plaid dress now, but the mother-of-the-bride dress I wore at DD's wedding in 1999 fits better than it did then;

2. Thanksgiving did not affect my downward trend; and

3. I'm down a total of 30.8 pounds.

Rewired Circuitry

I've been spending three to four evenings a week at 24 Hour Fitness for the past six weeks or so.

Not only am I seeing results in my body, but my mind as well. For one thing, I'm actually listening to those pep talks I give myself.

But the funniest of all the mental phenomena involves my circuitry.

We listen to Classical music at home. It's what we play on the radio. If we reach for a CD, nine times out of ten it will be a symphony or an opera. (The one out of ten could be anything from bluegrass to comedy.)

When I got a song stuck in my head, it would be a symphony or a piano sonata or, rarely, an operatic aria.

Since I've been exercising at the gym, I've noticed my circuitry has gone Techno.

This morning I made breakfast to the driving strains of "I'm turning Japanese, oh, yes, I'm turning Japanese, oh, yes, I think so."

Weight Loss Progress Report

I have been working to save our Weight Watchers at Work program for the past two weeks.

Last week our meeting was actually "dark" because the leader was giving us one more week to come up with the minimum number of people.

The week before last was so stressful, I didn't have time to eat properly and I fell off the plan big time.

I realized it was really silly for me to have so much eating stress over getting enough people to join a Weight Watchers group and it really wasn't worth it for me personally to blow my eating plan. I decided it was the last time I was going to do that and I announed it today at our meeting, which we pulled off by the skin under my fingernails. (Five minutes before the meeting, even, someone dropped out.)

Anyway, I knew I had gained last week and I joined the gym and got the trainer as a place to channel the nervousness instead of into eating.

So overall, I gained 0.2 pounds, which could just as easily be some muscle I'm adding because of the training. Anyway, I'm happy with it and expect I'll see a loss next week.

My weight is now 211.8 which makes for a total loss of 26.2 pounds.

Mr. Murphy Lends a Hand

You know those people who say, "I never win anything?"

I'm not one of those people. I win things.

Really!

It started when I was 14 years old and one of my friends had her own telephone. ("Huh?" you say? Don't all 14-year-olds have their own phone? It's called the Family Plan, right?)

Okay, don't get smart with me. (Har har. Get Smart**, remember? The spy who had a telephone in his shoe?)

I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but kids these days just don't know how lucky they are.

But I digress.

See, I wasn't allowed to have my own telephone and certainly wasn't allowed to use the family telephone (party line -- know what that is, kids?) to call radio stations.

Anyway, my friend Dee had her own telephone and I used to spend a couple of hours every day at her house calling radio station contests. One day I won two tickets to see the Ice Capades in St. Louis (the nearest big city, 20 miles away).

I thought my parents would be furious. After all, 1) I wasn't allowed to call radio stations; 2) someone had to go to the box office to pick the tickets up; 3) there were only two tickets so my parents would have to spring for a third if we all wanted to go, and on and on.

But since there was no way for me to collect the tickets at all unless I told them, I stiffened my upper lip and told my mom.

Who was just pleased as punch!

"I have always wanted to go to the Ice Capades!" she gushed.

"But" -- sputter, sputter -- "there are only two tickets and we have to drive all the way to St. Louis to pick them up!" I moaned.

No problem!

I was so struck dumb that I hadn't been struck dead that I forgot to say, "Gee, I never win anything."

Since that fateful day I have lost count of the number of things I won, but here are a few:

A number of record albums (kids, picture CDs only much bigger, black and not digital) ranging from blues to Anne Murray

("I just love Anne Murray!" gushed my mom.)

An untold number of door prizes and centerpieces.

A trip for two to San Francisco, including air fare and hotel. (Before I lived here....)

The California lottery -- 5 out of 6 when the odds were much better. (I think my share ended up being about $3,000 or $4,000.)

A $2,500 shopping spree at a huge shopping mall in Los Angeles.

And only today I was the right caller at the right time on my local Classical radio station with the answer to the question: "What was the name of the cat in the 1950's Dick and Jane readers?"

(Answer: Puff.)

I was so excited! Luckily, I remembered to ask the DJ when the tickets were for (I hadn't heard that part). They're for the night DD is going to be here and we'll be in San Jose at the theatre (see Everyone's Favorite City Disappoints MOI, herein).

I had to pass the tickets to the next caller.

Murphy's Law strikes again.





**When I originally wrote this, I did not know that the star of the show, Don Adams, had passed away a couple of days before. I was amazed to find he was seven years older than my own mother. In my mind, he was still younger than I am now and still cracking me up with his silly antics. Well done on a life well lived.

My Coworker Pinky Toe

The coworker who sits nearest to me is originally from Korea. She was raised Catholic and now studies Buddhism.

We share a work ethic, the love of mankind and Classical piano. Since we can never find time to get together to play duets, we are contemplating returning to the earth as twins in our next life.

I explain to her American idioms and she tells me parables. We each make the other laugh.

A couple of weeks ago we were walking to a work luncheon together and she told me about her pinky toe.

She said that one time she hurt her pinky toe very badly when she closed a sliding glass door on it.

The pain referred to her foot, then to her leg, then to her lower back, then to her neck and then to her head.

She said, "'Oh, Pinky Toe,' I said, 'I have newfound respect for you!' Here was something so small and seemingly unimportant, yet it created big and far-reaching effects."

By that time we were nearly at the restaurant. I was at once in stitches and reminded of why I love her so. But then she went on to tell me about her boss.

(Of course, I know her boss because we sit so closely together, but this was her perspective on her boss.)

"Sometimes," she said, "when I am so intent on my work and have to work really hard to make a deadline, I shut him out and do not talk about anything but work, work, work. Then he gets a really long face.

"But when I talk to him about my life and my family and my interests, he gets very cheerful.

"I think," she said, "that maybe I am a pinky toe."

When we returned from lunch, I told her, "From now on, I will call you Pinky."

She corrected me.

"Pinky Toe!"

Lessons You Can't Teach an Optimist

The other day someone told me I was too charitable. I disagreed, especially in the context in which I was told this.

On further reflection, I realized there may be a kernel of truth in that statement.

Some lessons I haven't learned no matter how many times I've been taught them.

Take food, for instance.

It seems there are a few foods I don't like. I'm not a picky eater, so the list isn't long.

(Random musings: Why is it that someone who reads lots of different books can be widely read but a person who eats a variety of foods can't be widely eaten?)

When I was a little kid, I didn't like watermelon, popcorn or lobster.

Eventually my taste buds changed and I grew to love lobster, tolerate popcorn and sometimes enjoy watermelon.

Perhaps because of this change in tastes, I have always given my dislikes the benefit of the doubt. (Then again, maybe it was just too many readings of Green Eggs and Ham.)

"Maybe I've changed my mind," I think. "I'll give it another try."

This doesn't apply strictly to food, either. It could be art, music or even people. (Thus, from the friend's point of view I can be too charitable.)

Today I have decided to learn a lesson. In order to learn this lesson, though, I need to talk to my future self. (Bringing me to the full range of Talking To Myself, within blog.)

So, Self, please remember this:

I really don't like okra and I really don't like Milky Way Bars.

This hasn't changed in over half a century.

It is not necessary to keep trying them to see if maybe I've changed my mind, because unless the slime is genetically altered out of the okra and the recipe for Milky Way Bars deletes 70% of the sugar and adds some nuts, this won't change.

Nor does it make a difference that it's in a different recipe or that the company has changed CEOs. You really won't like them and if you try them, you'll feel like punishing yourself for forgetting this lesson.

So please, Self, resist the temptation to "Just try it" this once.

Just don't.

Thank you, thank you, Sam I Am.

Everyone's Favorite City Disappoints MOI

It seems the world is conspiring to drive me to cookies.

Sometimes it's hard to believe I live in a major metropolitan area. We're talking San Francisco, fer Pete's sake! I mean, how do they get off calling it The City?!

Unless you're into the bar scene, the sidewalks roll up here even earlier than some of the one-horse towns where I lived in the Midwest.

My DD is visiting us in October from L.A. and there is not. one. single. musical. theatrical. performance. in San Francisco during the week she'll be here.

Not one!

She's missed Wicked and now Annie and she's too early for any of the holiday stuff.

Of course, there's Teatro ZinZanni but I refuse to pay those outrageous ticket prices and pay an additional $10 for a "dinner fee" once I get there. Maybe I'm just cheap, but I'm perfectly willing to let the tourists spring for those tickets.

I thought it was going to have to be Beach Blanket Babylon or nothing, but then I found this an hour's drive away:

Little Women with Maureen McGovern.

Perfect! We drive down for an evening show, spend the night in a hotel so we don't have to worry about driving home too late, and voila! The perfect mother-daughter night.

Don't make me sing it alone, now...

"Do you know the way to San Jose?" La, la-la-la la LA la la la-la la-la.

Testing My Mettle

It's not fair.

I was good.

I followed the plan.

I avoided (most) temptations all week long.

I gained 1.4 pounds!

I used to think my weight loss was showing results from the week before weigh-in because that's how it seemed. But I've been good for two whole weeks, so that logic doesn't fly.

Of course, my bent now is to abandon the plan entirely. I know where that path leads.

I'm going to stick to it another week and hope that I get rewarded big time next weigh-in.

But in the meantime I'm still going to pout.

More Good Penguin News!

The penguins from New Orleans have been rescued and are now safely residing nearby.

I am happy about that. I will certainly pay them a visit while they are in the area.

Talking To Myself

I doubt it's very unusual to talk to oneself. I hear people say they do it all the time. (Usually followed by that chestnut about answering oneself, hahaha. Some people have no imagination.)

I didn't put much more thought into it until a few years ago when the habit became an obsession and moved from the vertical to the horizontal. Or something like that.

(Cue back story)

When I was a pre-teen, I was obsessed with Mark Lindsay, then lead singer of Paul Revere and the Raiders. (Now I say I was obsessed. Then, I knew I was in love.)

I had three girlfriends at the time and we were all obsessed-cum-in-love with all of the Raiders, but they (being wise and cognizant of solid leadership and possessing the better part of valour) pretty much allowed me dibs on Mark Lindsay.

Every afternoon we watched Dick Clark's Where The Action Is and swooned over Mark. I nearly needed a blood transfusion when he announced he was going to cut off his ponytail, and I felt entitled to win the contest to own it when they did. (I thought I'd never forgive the person who won it for not recognizing my entitlement to it.)

(No, I did not stalk her.)

(She had an unlisted number.)

We babysat and mowed lawns and always managed to buy every single teen magazine Mark was in. I wrote a poem to him and sent it to him. I sketched his portrait from one of his photographs and sent it to him.

One time we went a little too far. A photograph in one of the magazines showed him talking on a telephone. There on the face of the telephone (pre-cell phones, pre-Touch Tones by golly!) we could just make out the telephone number when we used one of our grandmothers' magnifying glass.

So we took the number and pooled our money and met early before school one morning at the pay phone outside the cafeteria and we called it (squeal)!

We were so smart that we even knew that we needed to use the Los Angeles Area Code and dial a 1 first.

What we didn't remember was that Illinois was two hours ahead of California. And since this was also pre-answering-machine/voicemail-to-screen-calls, we woke some poor guy up at 5:00 a.m. asking for Mark, only to be told we had a wrong number.

I thought I would

Just.

Die.

Mark later left the Raiders and things were never the same. I won't get into all the drama of the lawsuits over the rights to the songs and Mark's right to use the Paul Revere and the Raiders name on his website, etc. That's legal history and it's pretty boring if you're not as much of a fan as I was. Besides, I'm legally bound not to tell because....

A few years ago I found myself on a temp job in Studio City working for an entertainment lawyer who, it so happened, represented Mark Lindsay.

Moreover, he still represented Mark Lindsay.

Morever,

(jump up and down squealing)

MarkLindsayCameToHisOfficeWhileIWorkedThereAndIGotTo

MeetHimAndShakeHisHand!!!!!!!!!!

(dead silence)

(pregnant pause)

There's something about pre-teen love. As hard to believe as it may be, it doesn't last.

Here I was a middle aged woman with a grown child of my own who I'd already seen through her pre-teen years. I met Mark Lindsay and his wife and we chatted a bit about the past and how much a fan I was, the present and how much he loved living in Hawaii, the future and how if I ever came to Hawaii I should visit. Quite tame, really.

The first thing I thought of doing afterward was to call my 13-year-old self on the phone!

Here was news! I had to tell someone! It was the exact impulse I would have had at 13 but there was no one who would understand it the way I -- and my contemporaries -- could. I had long lost touch with my pre-teen compadres before I even got out of high school.

I really needed to talk to me!

I think I pondered that concept for at least two weeks. To this day I still haven't managed to wrap my wits around it entirely.

I still think you're okay if you talk to yourself.

Hell, after all that, I even think you'd be okay if you answered yourself.

Hahaha.

Stick by Stick

I didn't post my progress report after weigh-in on Wednesday. Current events made my weight-loss efforts seem too petty a subject, and there were already more than enough words flying around about the current events themselves. To add to them would have been meaningless.

So I gave $100 to a volunteer who needed air fare and called it a day.

Still, the weight-loss news is good. I lost 0.8 pounds last week for a total weight loss of 27.8 pounds.

It takes a little bit of creativity to take comfort in a less-than-a-pound loss in a week.

What does it for me is butter.

Butter is pure fat that comes in quarter-pound sticks. Whenever my week's loss is 0.2 pounds or 0.5 pounds or 0.8 pounds, I imagine the equivalent in butter. Am I happy to have lost the equivalent in fat of over 3 sticks of butter last week?

You betcha!

I just imagine those sticks of butter and then I melt them down in my mind and see how much ghee they make. Then I imagine the fat in my body melting and the ghee flowing out of it and puddling at my feet.

One great thing about imagination: the cleanup's a snap.

Phishing Phun

Whew! Today is my lucky day! I got this email today that says:

"PLEASE READ THIS NOTICE CAREFULLY

"Congratulations! You have received this Notice because the records of PayPal, Inc. indicate you are a current or former PayPal account holder who has been deemed eligible to receive a payment from the class action settlement in accordance with PayPal Litigation, Case No. 02 1227 JF PVT, pending in the United States District Court for the Northern District of California in San Jose.

"In your specific case you have been found to be eligible for a payment of $88.99 USD."

Hee! $88.99 USD! Can you believe it!

I never win anything!

Wow! This must be an international class action suit because they have to put "USD" after the amount. That means U.S. Dollars so someone in New Zealand or Canada doesn't get confused and think they're entitled to NZD or CAD.

I never even heard of this class action before! And I never even spent $88.99 in my entire history with PayPal!

I just cannot believe how lucky I am.

Now, what do I have to do to get my $88.99 USD?

Let's read on.

"Confirm Your Bank Account.

"The aforementioned settlement funds may be transferred directly to your bank account providing you have a linked card. The funds may not be credited directly to your PayPal account as this would render Paypal to be accumulating interest and thus profiting on litigation settlement funds which contravenes Federal law. Your bank account will be credited within 7 days upon submission of account details."

Is it my imagination or does this writer kinda talk funny? He sounds like a furriner if you ask me. See, I work in a law firm and I understand legalese, so I know it's not funny sounding because it's written by a lawyer. Unless it's a foreign lawyer who learned English as a second language. From a British teacher.

Oh, well. Maybe his rates are lower than anyone they could find in the U.S. Or maybe the original party to the class action was a furriner and hired someone he could relate to.

"To credit your bank account please click here.

Don't forget to check your bank account for the PayPal deposits and get Verified!"

Huh?

"If you are seeking an alternate method of receiving your funds PayPal will be contacting those who do not submit their details by the 31th of March with instructions to receive a cheque in the mail. However this will incur a 7.5% processing fee deducted from the settlement amount and therefore PayPal only recommends this option to those users who do not currently have a bank account with linked Bank Card."

31th, huh? That's funny! I say that sometimes, too, just for a joke. This foreigner has a real good sense of humo(u)r. It's even funnier when you say "32th" because it sounds like "thirty-tooth." I wonder if he says that, too. I need to meet this guy!

"Please Note that under United States federal law credit cards are not a legally approved method of settlement for Class Action suits and cannot be processed for transferal of funds in this case."

Huh?

"This notice is a summary and does not describe all details of the settlement. For full details of the matters discussed in this notice, you may wish to review the Settlement Agreement dated January 11, 2005 and on file with the Court or visit https://www.paypal.com/settlement/. Complete copies of the Settlement Agreement and all other pleadings and papers filed in the lawsuit are also available for inspection and copying during regular business hours, at the Office of the Clerk of the Court, United States District Court for the Northern District of California, 280 South First Street, San Jose, California 95113."

Hmmm. I know that court. Filed a few things there myself. In fact, I could send our service over to get a copy of those papers during regular business hours so I can inspect them. Of course, it would kind of eat into my $88.99 USD to pay the service for the trip and the copying.

This is sounding more and more legit, isn't it?

"DATED: September 02, 2005

BY ORDER OF THE UNITED STATES DISTRICT COURT FOR THE NORTHERN DISTRICT OF CALIFORNIA"

Okay, now that's weird. (Scratching chin....) I mean, this arrived on September 1st (oops. September 1th) my time. And my time is San Jose time. Courts don't usually date things in advance. That much I know. And here this thing is dated September 2th.

Oh, I get it! I think this is just like that test they give you in school to see how well you follow instructions. The one that has as step one, "Read the entire test through before beginning." Then at the end it tells you to disregard all the instructions after number one. So the people who can't follow instructions are picking up their pencils and writing their names and making circles and squares around them and all sorts of stuff that are in steps 2 through the end and the people who can follow instructions are just sitting there doing nothing.

Like I said, today is my lucky day. Luckily, I passed that test and I've been READING THIS NOTICE CAREFULLY just like it says.

Know what else? If you enter the referenced website (https://www.paypal.com/settlement/) into your browser (rather than link to it), you find out that PayPal has put a huge notice to their customers that THIS EMAIL IS A PHISHING SCAM!

Yup, my lucky day. I got to forward something to spoof@paypal.com and get phodder for my blog all in one day.

Another One Down

I didn't post last week out of embarrassment because I had climbed back on that plateau and weighed in at my 25-pound loss again.

This week I'm down two pounds for a lowest-weight mark since beginning this program in January.

Yay! I get to add another paper clip to my chain.

My weight is now 211 for a total of 27 pounds lost.

But, of Course!

I got a perfect score on the Discovery penguin quiz.

Hee hee!

And I Didn't Think I Was an Investor!

I've never bought stocks but back in my halcyon days when I had an American Express card and used it prudently, I bought a set of china.

I was well beyond my newlywed days by then and the china I already had looked embarrassingly ingenue. Amex had enclosed a circular offering 12 place settings plus serving pieces of a Villeroy & Boch pattern for $550.

I didn't hate the pattern and it seemed a pretty good buy, so I ordered it. It's been my special occasion china ever since. It's seen me through many a birthday, Thanksgiving, Rosh Hashana, and the occasional dinner party. Some of the pieces I've used even more often. (I remember one time at 3:00 a.m., working tête à tête with a court reporter on an expedited transcript, serving coffee with the full coffee service just to keep our spirits up and our bodies awake.)

I kept Small Island Trader bookmarked in my viewer and occasionally pondered whether to buy another serving piece or two. (The link goes to my pattern, Botanica.)

Today I checked the bookmark and learned that the link to my pattern had been changed and -- Holy cow! -- so had the cost of the replacement pieces!

I just finished adding up all the pieces I own at the prices they're asking and came up with $2,824.99. I'd say that wasn't too bad for my original $550 (including shipping) investment, but some guru will have to answer the question.*

Is five times the original purchase price in 16 years a good investment?

I was gloating over this discovery when I realized the reason for the price increase on the pattern is because it's probably discontinued.

Discontinued patterns: What dead ladies leave in their estates.

I so much preferred thinking of myself as a savvy investor.

Now I feel old.





*No spam, please.

Back on the Road to Onederland

Well, I finally cracked that plateau I'd been on for two months.

Remember the red plaid dress that was supposed to revitalize my resolve to lose weight? (The Target Now In the Sights. See Previous Posts in this blog.)

Nope. Didn't do it.

Nor did the size-16 jeans my DD shrank out of. (Dang! I was going to get skinny first and show her how good she could look when she got old. But then she lost 6 pounds while she was in Italy and it motivated her to keep going. Unfortunately, I can't afford a trip to Italy at the moment.)

Nor the two pant suits that my office manager and fellow Weight-Watchers-at-Work meeting attendee shrank out of last week and gifted to me.

No. This is what did it.

Tower Market on Portola. More correctly, Mollie Stone's Tower Market on Portola.

I rarely shop there unless I happen to be passing by on my way home at a time when I'm tired and desperately need to pick up something and the thought of driving past home to go to my regular store is too much to bear.

That is why I had no idea that the solution to my problem plateau hung right inside the entrance.

You can't miss it. It's a huge, round, convex mirror. It's the kind that you put at the end of a driveway or garage or a blind curve in an alleyway to avoid collisions.

Ouch!

See the biggest mirror in my apartment is the one on the medicine chest in the bathroom.

When you walk into Mollie Stone's Tower Market you just can't help but stare up into that big, round, convex mirror because your own motion above your head draws you into it.

What did I see when I looked up there?

I'm still fat.

That's all it took. A loss of 25 pounds seems like a lot to most people. But when it's only about a quarter of what you need to lose, it takes something like the sight of yourself in a big, round, convex mirror to realize you're not finished losing weight yet, Darling!

Ahem.

So....

At weigh-in yesterday I'd lost 1.2 pounds for a total of 26.2 pounds down. I'm back on the road to Onederland!

When I hit 50, I think I'll do some grocery shopping on Portola.

If that doesn't work, I'll go look for a House of Mirrors at Pier 39.