Is it any wonder that I feel afraid?

There is an incredibly delicious image of Syd Barrett on the cover of this month's Uncut magazine. Every time I see that cover, I'm tempted to buy it. I really need to stop having crushes on the younger, more attractive versions of Really Old Guys.

I don't know what to do with myself when Laura's not on AIM. I'm like a lost labradoodle puppy. So I'll just dump in the blog until she's back (wow, that's a ladylike visual).

Still OBSESSING over this thing. (WHY? Why?!)I think I just need a crush right now, and my life is sorely lacking in crushable boys. You know the type. Skinny white boys with blue eyes, and some sort of emotional problem that makes them impossible to get close to, so that it's not my fault when the relationship explodes into tiny little pieces (<---I think in therapy, this would be called a breakthrough. If I had plans to do anything about it. Which I don't).

I'm almost done with a Conwy (from Nancy Bush's Knitting on the Road). It feels tight. I'm praying that when I finish the sock, I can pull it on. My sister may be thinner and smaller boned than I am, but it's not as though I have cankles. Still, hopefully it's just my fat feet the fact that it's still on the needles that's preventing me from getting this unfinished sock on my foot. I was going to cast on the second sock and knit the leg right after I finished turning the heel of the first sock (to prevent Second Sock Syndrome - also known in my household as "alcoholism"), but the discovery that the sock might not fit made me want to finish one before I decide to make the other, or my sister's going to have to cut weight to get them on her feet.

[Currently Spinning: Keane - Is it Any Wonder?]