My friend assures me, "It's all or nothing."
I am not worried
I am not overly concerned
My friend implores me, "For one time only,
make an exception." I am not worried

Wrap her up in a package of lies
Send her off to a coconut island
I am not worried
I am not overly concerned
with the status of my emotions
"Oh," she says, "you're changing."
But we're always changing
It does not bother me to say

this isn't love
Because if you don't want to talk about it then it isn't love
And I guess I'm going to have to live with that
But I'm sure there's something in a shade of grey,
Something in between,
And I can always change my name
If that's what you mean

My friend assures me, "It's all or nothing."
But I am not really worried
I am not overly concerned
You try to tell yourself the things you try to tell yourself
To make yourself forget I am not worried
"If it's love," she said, "then we're going to have to think about the consequences."

She can't stop shaking
I can't stop touching her and...
This time when kindness falls like rain
It washes her away and Anna begins to change her mind
"These seconds when I'm shaking leave me shuddering for days," she says
And I'm not ready for this sort of thing

But I'm not going to break and I'm not going to worry about it anymore
I'm not going to bend, and I'm not going to break and I'm not going to worry about it anymore

It seems like I should say, "As long as this is love..."
But it's not all that easy so maybe I should
Snap her up in a butterfly net pin her down on a photograph album
I am not worried I've done this sort of thing before
But then I start to think about the consequences
Because I don't get no sleep in a quiet room and...

The time when kindness falls like rain
It washes me away and Anna begins to change my mind
And every time she sneezes I believe it's love and
Oh lord, I'm not ready for this sort of thing

She's talking in her sleep
It's keeping me awake and Anna begins to toss and turn
And every word is nonsense but I understand and
Oh lord, I'm not ready for this sort of thing

Her kindness bangs a gong
It's moving me along and Anna begins to fade away
It's chasing me away
She disappears and
Oh lord, I'm not ready for this sort of thing

fathers be good to your daughters
My dad turns 65 today.


My dad would appear to be an unlikely role model and certainly not a prime candidate for father of the year. When I was younger, I was determined to distance myself as much as possible from his unhappiness and do everything I could not to be like him. It used to worry me that I am so much my father’s daughter. He is complicated, emotional, intense, and moody. His worship of beauty expresses itself in his passion for books, music, travel, and the outdoors.

So much of him, the best and the worst, fell straight into me. Not all bad, but our house lived and died by his moods. There are countless times when his black moods and misplaced anger brought me to tears. His drinking shattered our lives for years. And even when he was sober, he was ridiculously strict and downright Draconian in his ideas about curfew, makeup, and boys.

When I was a little girl, we got along wonderfully. I was a happy chatterbox and a daddy’s girl and we’d play silly games and go places together. He’d come home from work and surprise me with presents for no reason. I remember walking into the kitchen and seeing my parents kissing and I’d pretend to be disgusted and they’d pull me into their embrace and kiss me too. Memories made all the more precious because of how rare they are, drowned out by louder, uglier things. The older I got, the more we clashed.

To say that we have had a stormy relationship would be a profound understatement. But it seems that we have finally found the peaceful way of relating to each other that only time, distance, and grace can bring. Anger has finally been subsumed by respect. And I finally told him how watching him survive everything life has thrown at him has taught me the real meaning of strength. He grew up poor in rural South Korea, had to take care of his family when the father he worshiped was killed, and once he moved to the U.S. and had a family, he was again consumed by the role of provider and all of his dreams and ambitions fell by the wayside. Both of my parents’ lives are strewn with such sacrifices and lost dreams. Very Joy Luck Club. My dad has battled alcoholism, cancer, and a lifelong struggle with depression. He’s been beaten down by life. But he’s still kicking.

And even though he’s not in the best of health and as grieved as he is by his estrangement from my brother, he’s finally found a measure of peace. He spends a lot of time tinkering in the garden and renovating the house. He goes to church and his faith brings him a lot of comfort. He’s really…mellowed, there’s no other word for it. I was a little worried about how he would react to my breakup but I underestimated him. He was as sympathetic and comforting as anyone could be. He even said girlfriend type things like how I would have plenty of other chances to find love and to follow my heart and wait for the right person who would make me happy for the rest of my life. Shades of Oprah from a man I used to find unbelievably intimidating.

He’s changed a lot. He’s always been the stereotypical Asian dad, bringing to bear unrelenting academic pressure. It was foreordained that I was going to get a Ph.d long before I knew what that meant. But the last time I was home, he told me that the most important thing was for me to do something that made me happy, regardless of what he or others might want me to do. He said if he could go back and do things differently, he would have taken the time to make himself happy. To have hobbies and go out with friends and have some sort of life, because he knows now that he sacrificed too much and because he was so unhappy, he was in no condition to make his family happy. Something I’ve known for years.

He’s made a lot of mistakes as a father, some of which I know have scarred me, but I also know he did the best he knew how in constantly difficult circumstances. And I know that he loves me and my family unconditionally. In his usual overprotective way, he was so worried about me being lonely after the breakup that he even wondered if my mom should have come to stay with me. And he reminded me that if I ever needed anything, he was just a day or so’s drive away.

Happy Birthday, Dad.

Going on a vacation to Vanuatu, well don't miss out on our scuba diving trips where you can explore the colorful reefs of Port Vila. If you don't know how to dive, diving instructors are there to help you learn. Then you can have your first diving experience in Vanuatu crystal blue waters, or even snorkle around our reefs.

sex with Davos
Our business leaders do not discuss only on the economy or the crises of energy in very famous World Economic Forum of Davos which has been just held... they also speak about sex and obviously they are petitioning since according to the Swiss newspaper Freedom, "the seminar of the new Yorkean sexologist Dagmar O' Connor if was voted by plebiscite that it was the only one to be reprogrammed (...)".

Topics of the questions of powerful of this world: "homosexuality, the sexual abuse, menopause, the lubrication of the genitals or manner of maintaining a union."

Councils of the sexologist: "spend more time together," take a baby-sitter and leave ", spend 90 minutes three times by week at the head to head, and to touch itself simply"

Soon it will not be any more the economic forum of Davos but the forum questions life quotienne... they have fun the large ones of this world nevertheless?! They go to Davos to speak Q... whereas us and well one démmerde with our problems, at best one takes rdv in a sexologist in a small cabinet, to 50€ the consultation... does not have there to say, to be powerful, it is well!

So what if I am?

Yes children, this is indeed the week of the massive Rowan sale. 1/3 off all yarn. Surprisingly I didn't find much good stuff. No, really. Ok, so I've already blown a disgusting amount of money on yarn, see:
(1 ball Kid silk haze in candygirl, 3 balls Jaeger albany ribbon yarn for scarf, 4 balls Jaeger baby merino dk for socks)*

but sigh, it just wasn't everything I hoped for and more, all the good yarn had already been sent back to Rowan. Damn! I had such high hopes. The burgermeister aka the boy will be pleased though. I think he was afraid I would buy so much I wouldn't be able to fit it all in my flat. Plus, he thinks I have enough yarn already. Blasphamy! There is no such thing as enough. In his words "you already have a huge yarn stash. Did someone come and steal it all? Or is that like the doomsday stash and you need more to play with RIGHT NOW!" Heh, doomsday stash.

In other news, I've run out of onde in the pink and now its all white from here on out peeps:

By the way, that is the most accurate photo of the color I have taken so far. See what I mean about the radioactive smoked salmon shades of pink? I had been uber lazy working on this project. However, I've noticed all the other onde-along knitters have started to get their yarn so I thought I had better light a fire under it. I'm concerned however that I'm not on gauge. I seem to be about 2 cm short in width unless I stretch a bit. Fuck! Look I'll tell you right now I'm not ripping...no not gonna do it. I'm not knitting this tiny gauge garment again. Actually It might not be so bad because I was between sizes according to the phildar measurement guide and this size is an eense to big (yes an eense, you know like an eensy bit?) so it may work. I'm not ripping...go ahead judge away. Montse Stanley can kiss my ass I'm not ripping.

I'm also nearly done with the second sleeve of my mohair pull. Oh, and I'll never rip that. Rip mohair? Not on your life. It feels so good. That yarn had been rotting in the stash for ages. I love making huge dents in my stash. I always feel a bit overwhelmed by having a lot of yarn just sitting around doing nothing. I need to get a move on making something with all those balls of Goa I have (18 balls shade 16 if you are playing at home). I'm thinking I'm going to redeisgn the suss cousins pull over and make a nice flattering sweater with it from my own workable pattern, if I do the pattern is all yours...shall we dub it project Daphne?**

I have some questions regarding mohair though. What is the best way to block it? Wet, spritz, steam...what? Also, can you mattress stitch with it? Or wil I have to backstitch the whole lot in a smoother yarn in the same shade?

Also, apropo of nothing, does anyone know of a stuffed pig knitting pattern?

Best google search terms this week: We have two this week
1. "stomping kittens in high heels jpg" ok, I'm sorry but WHAT THE FUCK is that all about?
2. "free knitting patterns for donkey" um, do you need a free pattern for a stuffed donkey? Sorry don't have any. Or, free knits for a donkey to wear? Nope, tampoco.