I have an aversion to buying stuff I don’t need and a slightly less difficult time buying stuff I do need. Black Friday was going to have to survive without me.
Except I forgot about Black Friday until Yann reminded me when we were five minutes away from Canadian Tire.
Wonderful. Elbowing my way through a crowd of bargain hunters wasn’t how I wanted to spend my day off.
Continue reading “Pink Friday.”
Three and a half years go, I knitted my first scarf. Since then, I have knitted four toques. I nearly finished a fifth in the time it took to drive from Montréal to Vancouver, but when I got to the stitch decreases for the crown, I decided my handiwork was a waste of fancy yarn and unravelled the whole thing.
I’ve started something new, but it is not going well. Reading a knitting pattern is a skill I have yet to master. It goes something like this:
1: K1, P2, K2, K1togbl2, *K2, P2; rep from * across, end K2.
2: K1below, P3
3: Alternate between rows 1 and 2, until you realize that you’ve spent hours doing the wrong thing, and clench your jaw so hard in anger that your teeth shatter.
Ah, what a relaxing hobby.
Continue reading “It’s still easier to make hats than new friends.”
In 2009, after having spent my teens exclusively on desktop PCs, I bought my first laptop.
I am typing on this very laptop right now: its successor is on the way to the ASUS HQ for repairs. The screen was flickering at random. I learned to live with the flickering somewhat but figured I needed to send it back before its one-year warranty expired.
I made this photo my desktop wallpaper before packing it up:
Continue reading “Three dozen.”
On Tuesday, I did the goofiest thing I’ve done in a long time: I got my hearing tested. I got something I don’t have tested. To help you imagine the level of ridiculous this was:
“Read this eye chart using the eyes at the back of your head.”
“But I don’t have eyes in the back of my head.”
Continue reading “Pierce earlobes, not eardrums.”
“Are there peanuts in this?” I’d ask.
“Are you allergic?” they’d always respond. No way could someone just not like peanuts.
Continue reading “I do not belong in the peanut gallery.”
In my former home province of Québec, Montréal residents are pushing couches and fridges up those twisty death trap staircases. In the 4 years I lived in Montréal, I never had to move on what Québécois call Moving Day. There, if you decide on a moving date other than July 1st, you’re responsible for finding a new tenant to take over whatever remains of your lease.
It’s weird, I know.
Continue reading “Red and White Day.”