My patented self-portrait double-chin. Ain't it a beaut? Steph and I were exploring the inner-workings of the fabulous MetroBus system, bouncing our way back into midtown from the zoo last week, on our way to Alexandria.
We did quite a bit of pondering on our level of girliness, or lack thereof. She's way better off than I am. Despite spending ten bucks on new lip goo, I just think that in my mid-thirties, I'm still a tomboy at heart. I'm so much more comfortable in khakis and a tee shirt and a baseball hat than I am in cute shoes and makeup. I need a girly intervention.
And, in another fit of bad bloggerdom, I realized that I didn't take a picture of the groovy thanks-for-letting-me-spend-the-night-at-your-place present she brought me. I've never delved into the whole clog-making world but I may have to give it a go. It's a couple of skeins of Cascade 220 in a snazzy rust color and a couple of skeins of Noro Kureyon. I've bundled it all up safely for later use.
As for active knitting, yesterday I got through the first repeat of the Hippos, did the needle shift as prescribed and started to work my way around. Then I looked down and saw something that no knitter wants to see: a loop. A loop seven rows down. Not attched to anything. I looped a stitch holder through it and patiently tinked back to fix it. Finally got everything back under control around 2 a.m. I lost a full day of knitting but at least I'm back on track.
Igor doesn't want to talk about it.
Tonight a handful of us girls checked out Pub Quiz night at the new neighborhood Irish bar. We didn't do particularly well, but I think we're going to try again. They have Boddington's on tap so I'm happy (fish & chips wasn't very good though).