I’m Beautiful Like Me.

The bad news is that a lot of legitimate comments were eaten by Spam Karma 2. The good news is that I was able to save them. The bad news is that I deactivated Spam Karma 2 and am now using math to help prevent would-be spam. The good news is that (hopefully) all is functioning again.

If you experience any weird quirks with commenting, please do not hesitate to contact me at tata (at) imnobeautifullikeyou.com.

The good news is that football is on! I’m currently watching the Tampa Bay Bucs @ New Orleans Saints. The bad news is that it takes me forever to get over all the roster changes. For example, Jeremy Shockey playing for the Saints?! Yeah, I don’t deal with change well. At writing, the score is tied 7-7. I’m cheering for the Bucs. Not sure yet if that’s good news or bad!

The good news is that the boy napped today. The bad news is that it wasn’t for near long enough.

The good news is that I’m seeing increased traffic from Entrecard. The bad news is that I’m spending way too much time dropping my card!

The good news is that I’m hopping into the shower and leaving for the library to get some new knitting books. The bad news is that I’m going to miss the end of the game.

The good news is that I finally finished my first sock! It looks really, really terrific and I am so proud. I’ll get some photos up later. The bad news is that I still need to make the match! I think on my next try, I will make two at the same time.

Today, my friend P and I hung out for the first time (I swear it is the very first time ever) sans children while also being sober. We have such a hard time collaborating our schedules to hook up. She’s on vacation this week, though and promised to kick it with me, even if just for a bit.

She called last night and we planned to check out one of the local yarn stores (LYS) since she wants me to knit her a pair of socks. We also intended on getting coffee and perusing the nearby Goodwill.

We head out to the LYS. It was delicious in there! So many yummy yarns to touch and I wanted to take them all home. The air in there was a bit stiff, however, and I got a couple of sideways glances from the lady running the place ’cause I just had to touch everything. P held back and I looked at her with sheer befuddlement: “Why aren’t you touching?!”

Afterwards, we went to Java, a little coffee shop just next door. The owner was super friendly and made a damn fine mocha latte. I was disappointed that I couldn’t smoke on the patio, though. I quickly drained my mug and we decided to hit the other yarn store across the bridge in Indiana. We had such a hard time deciding on yarn. Plus, earlier this week, Sonnie sent me an email invite to the Knit Night at the LYS where she works part-time, complete with 20% coupon for yarn. We didn’t have the coupon with us, but I planned to attend the Knit Night later and this way, we could make a more informed decision about yarn for socks.

The word about town is that Grinny Possum is the place to go for all one’s yarn needs because it just the best place.

Well, that is not entirely true…

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I have always been the type of person who runs away when the shit hits the fan. It’s instinctual for me. When the going gets tough, tata gets going. I’m almost 31 years old now, so it really isn’t very grown-up of me to behave as such anymore. Besides, it isn’t very effective, as it never accomplishes what I’m really hoping for: escape from the ugly thoughts and feelings that consume me.

Today, I’ve wanted to run away again. Instead, I’ve distracted myself as much as humanly possible from my feelings and thoughts. I watched a movie, read in the bathroom and knitted on my sock at every possible opportunity. I did go out for a bit earlier, looking for a job. I cried in between one place and the next, as I felt (warning: teen angst years relived) that all of this was totally fucking unfair. This is not how I wanted to return to the workforce. I have a college degree! I shouldn’t be waiting tables or pushing a mop, dammit.

Alas, I will do what I must, I s’pose. Growing up and all that jazz.

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