I am an indie whore. I know this even before I propose my idea.

So. Um. Is this a stupid idea? A punkish/indie yarn&knitting store, possibly online, called...waitforit....Skeinheads.

Yes? No? I even have a crappily drawn (on a coaster, so guess where this idea was born) logo.

Went to a frikkin awesome show last night at the little art park here in town (which has The Plywood Company, a cafe in an old railroad caboose, more art galleries than you can shake a stick out, a bicycle rental place and a buddhist center.), produced by a local satire group called the Mickee Faust Club. ("Why 'ee'? So we don't get sued by Walt ( Read more... )

Am booting up my feet in preparation for a job interview. They're the only non-sneaker, non-highheel shoes I own, big black combat boots with some uneccesary buckles and steelcaps. I may be working for Barnes and Noble again, which is soulcrushing in its own way, but they're apparently the only people willing to hire me. Plus there's mandatory ( Read more... )

This is spoilery as well. ( Out here on the raggedy edge. )

I am consciously making the effort to post this before I read anyone else's journal, before I look at internet buzz and speculation (which I didn't let myself look at before the premiere either, to avoid spoilage), before the thought's are anyone's but my own (with a hefty dollop of the people I was actually at the theatre with, of course ( Read more... )

....didn't have to come from watching an episode of That 70s Show ( Read more... )

Like a sponge!

I don't know what is wrong with me these days. Everything is, on the one hand, wonderful. It's the same stuff I've been doing all summer, hanging out with these people, eating food, playing the WoW. On the other hand, I recently learned a new word. Estivation. To pass one's summer in a torpor. And I knew exactly what this ( Read more... )

Okay guys. I was expecting a few less comments about the day that my mom's vagina split open and a few more about the Underwear Classification System. (UCS)

First off: it is my birthday, so I'm twenty-two. Yay. This is a nothing birthday. In fact...they're all nothing birthdays from here on out, aren't they? I mean, obviously, your birthday is a special event and you are a beautiful and unique snowflake. But. After 21, there's not exactly a whole lot that separates this birthday from any other. ( Read more... )

Must just post this with the minimum of drama and guilt (on my part) about being a Bad Internet Person, the kind who doesn't post for months and months. It's not as if there are folks out there breathlessly hanging on my every word, so why angst ( Read more... )