i don't send it, i bring it
Last night I partied like it was 1999. (I.e. before I had a kid, a job & a budget.)
First I caught a ride downtown after school with my laptop buddy (known hereafter as Stella). She was a bit of a mess, as she'd just got the news that, due to declining numbers, she may not be back at Bat Masterson in the fall. I've been thinking about this issue all week, and kicking myself that I chose to place my peace of mind over job security last year. I'm not even sure that the bullet has missed me; they may be working down the alphabet.
Anyway, we had a sombre ride into the city that was much reinforced by the rainy weather. I got on the subway and traveled down to Queen West, where I could buy yarn for Michelle. (She's doing me a favour, and I decided this week that my stash could not accommodate what I wanted her to knit.) I had the very frustrating experience of being unable to find two matching skeins of Koigu, although I found two close enough to be kissing cousins. I hate this kind of uncertainty – sometimes I wish that I'd just stuck to 100% acrylic yarns in 8 crayon colours. I even tried Romni, but got nowhere, slow.
All of this to-ing & fro-ing meant that I was much later than I should have been when I finally met Stacy for dinner. (My other mistake was deciding that getting off at the wrong subway station was a reasonable idea, then running up the street.) We had a fine dinner at Zyng! (a place I've always wanted to go, simply because it says "noodlery" on the sign), and talked about garment making and parenting and other such. This was my attempt at making up for my behaviour on her birthday; not sure that I came close, but I am trying. By the time we parted ways, I took advantage of the light drizzle to cry a bit, the emotion of the past few weeks welling up and spilling out.
Drunken Knitting Night was a tad more raucous than usual, as it involved tequila shots before nine. Me, I haven't drank tequila since that night with Javina, so this was a big deal. (Kind of like holding Blake on my lap and drinking port on Dirk's birthday, but I digress.) The ladies were in high spirits, from Jen "are ya up the stump?!" GirlHole, to Sandi "do a shoe show!" BurningYarn, to Jacquie "is my beret too floppy?" ThatWay, to Michelle "I need more mannequin parts" NotAnArtist. And Drea, and Jean-Anne, and Yvette, and Elizabeth, and and and. Too much fun. Didn't get a lot of knitting done, but did get the chance to see how much tequila could be soaked up by a single skein of Koigu PPM, and the chance to be assured that dating women was just too much trouble. The night ended with a markered note from Sandi & Jay (which I meant to sniff but lost) and Jacquie & I having an impromptu "missed the bus" party in the GO Station. (Friday Midnight at the GO Bus Station is Not To Be Missed – I was pleased to be able to show her this important piece of local colour.) A beautiful night, marred only slightly by the Boy's faithful watch at the other end of the line. I hated making him wait an extra hour but couldn't get in touch.
(Further reading: Jen GirlHole has an excellent photo essay on the foolishness of tequila shots consumed with knitting on the head. I can't remember who it was who said, "we should do these with the knitting on our heads!" but I do remember that I was the only one who kept the knitting balanced for the whole ride. I'm not sure if I deserve a prize or a summons.)
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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*