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first sentence profanity 2001-08-30 Okay, I went to a fabric store at lunch, and I need to take a sewing class right the fuck Now. I hadn't been to a fabric store in awhile, so I was unaware of what is available, both patternwise and fabricwise. And I love Vogue patterns. The designer patterns are gorgeous, and the Vintage Vogue patterns are not to be believed. They have patterns from my favorite fashion era; the 40s. Have you ever seen the Thin Man movies? If yes, do you know those fantastic suits and dresses Myrna Loy wore as Nora Charles? Vintage Vogue is all over those suits and dresses, and I want to wear them. The problem is, I suck at sewing. I can do the patterns that are easy and very easy, no problem. I can even do average and have things turn out okay, but the minute I dip my big toe into difficult or very difficult, things get scary. The scene darkens and changes to black and white, and the scary music starts. If I could just take a class and learn what it is I do wrong and how to do things the right way, maybe I could show those very difficult patterns who's boss. I want to be Nora Charles!! There is a "continuing education" basic sewing class starting next week at my local community college, and I'm going to see if I can work it out to attend. It's on Monday nights, 6-9, until sometime in October. Last night I talked to my excellent friend, Isabel. She cracked me up by telling me that her spouse (let's call him D) just doesn't know what to think of me and Francisco anymore. When we first met them, we were pretty conservative in our ways of thinking and behaving, but since then we have really changed. Isabel says D can't believe we went to the nudist ranch, and he can't understand why I have the hots for the Naked Chef (Isabel told him I did), because D says the Naked Chef has dirty hands and is so unkempt he would never eat anything N.C. prepared. I think D thinks we've gone around the bend, so to speak, and I don't want him to be afraid of us or dislike us. Isabel says he won't, but I'm not sure. I think, though, that I'm going to make their two girls t-shirts at xmas with Jamie Oliver's face on them, just to twist the knife in D's heart. Last night Francisco and I went for a walk, after Isabel and I finished our conversation. It was a nice night for a walk, but on the way back home I swallowed a bug, and it was very disgusting. I was talking to Francisco and took a breath to say something and suddenly there was a bug in my throat and I had to swallow it. I can only imagine what the bug thought; flying along happy as you please, and then "What's that cave? Aieeeee!!!". I drank two 20 oz glasses of water when I got home, and I could swear I still felt it in my throat. Blech. Not much else to report. I went to the gym this morning and endured the gruntings of the weight lifting club. The woman with the baby was there with the baby, and she got onto an elliptical machine next to Francisco, and he said something to her about how nice that he (the baby) could endure a trip to the gym. The woman replied, in a surly tone, "It's a girl", and Francisco kind of dropped the subject. It's too bad some parents get so attached to the idea that their baby should look its sex when it's only a few months old, because unless babies are dressed in gender-specific clothing, you usually can't tell if they're boys or girls. Am I right? The baby was wearing blue jeans and a green shirt and had the regulation baby hair, so how's a guy supposed to know it's a girl? I'm guessing the mom is going to be cranky until the baby starts looking girly. I don't have much time today to write, so I will talk to you later, mon petite chou chous. Love,
come over some time & see me - 2011-02-25 |
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