Like sunglasses and other jewelry, even the handbags are now coming studded in diamonds, as if the earrings were not enough.

I want to bring a few things to your attention:

1. Shibooya Radio is MIA until further notice. Oh, come on, you weren’t listening to it anyway.
2. Shibooya Radio was replaced with a reading list so you can marvel at my ability to read books that don’t have pictures in them.
3. Archives were added in a drop down so you can get all nostaglic and shit.
4. Cool Shit section is now in the form of a gallery which should make it easier to navigate.
5. Two new printable stationary sheets were added. WOW.
6. Use the contact form in the About Me section to reach me.
7. I added new plugins and you can check out where I got them in About the Site.
8. You’ll want to finish this entry, trust me, it’s good this time.

A penpal from Finland is expecting her first child so I came up with the brilliant idea of knitting her a baby blanket as a gift. I went to Jo-Ann Fabrics only to pick out the most unsoftest yarn I could find. It’s not as baby-friendly as say, 100% cotton, but I simply picked out the colors I liked and am now faced with a decision. Unravel my 15% done masterpiece of knitting? Continue knitting the thing and pray to God the kid doesn’t erupt into bleeding, open sores from an allergic reaction to my poor choice in yarn? I have nine months to make my decision. I’ll most likely start anew, but since I’ve already started this abomination of creation, I’ll see how far I can get with it. I’ve decided to use a broken rib pattern for the blanket which is probably useless since it’s hard to tell through the multi-colored yarn. I started off this well-meant but poorly executed gift by squeezing all 79 cast on stitches on to a single needle (I was sans circular needles at the time). This was a challenge but I managed to knit the border successfully.

 Â

Yes, those are glitter knitting needles.

I bought three new books from Barnes and Noble which is ludricrous for a number of reasons. First, used books in perfectly good readable condition are cheaper on Amazon.com. Second, I have a friend who works at Borders which means I pretty much have a personal shopper. Third, the library. Regardless, I bought The Mermaid Chair by the same author who penned the irresistably sweet The Secret Life of Bees. I had such a great experience with her novel that I was positive she could lift my spirits again. I’ve reached Chapter 17 in a flurry. I’m always surprised by how Kidd manages to intertwine disturbing imagery with reassuring landscapes.

Speaking of disturbing imagery, here’s one for the record: My boyfriend primarily uses his Vespa to travel to and from work and fell victim to an unexpected morning shower Tuesday morning. When he came by for lunch, I suggested he toss his clothes in the dryer. I had just hopped out of the shower when the doorbell rang and since my neighborhood is generally not like Deseperate Housewives, I chose not to answer it. I reasoned that the visitor would eventually leave. I was wrong. I was using logic to predict the actions of a lunatic and you simply can’t do that. Several minutes went by as I reclined on the couch still wrapped in a towel with my boxer-clad boyfriend next to me. He pointed to the window and asked, “Who is that?”

My neighbor from across the street, a tiny, elfish, spongey-looking woman in her early 70’s, decided that I would answer the door no matter what. We watched as she hobbled through the backyard from one window to the next, squinting through the screen. She wandered around a bit until making were way toward the front of the house. She seemed completely comfortable in someone else’s yard, looking through the windows as if I regularly invited her to backyard tea parties. In all fairness, maybe she thought I was dead and wanted to fulfill her duty as a nosey good neighbor by being the first to report my dead body. After the seven-thousandth doorbell ring, I threw on a robe and answered the door. I grew even more incredulous when her infant-sized hands held up a digital camera and she informs me in Spanish that it didn’t come with an instruction booklet. Part of me felt like cradling this unbelievably pint-sized woman in my arms but the majority of me felt like staging a massive orgy at my house the next time she felt like taking a peek.