Today I had lunch with my dear sweet friend Zoms. We've known each other since sixth grade and he's even dearer to me now than he was then. He gets a kick out of seeing people's reactions when he tells them he's meeting his sixth grade girlfriend, since most people who know him now have never known him to have any, um, girlfriends. Anyway, when we were younger, we heard about wombats* in some science class or PBS program or other, and became fascinated with them. We tried to guess what kind of noise they might make, and we decided that they went "Wom wom!" Over the years, it's become a sort of greeting for us. And you thought I was odd after reading that post about my idiosyncrasies. Honey, I'm just gettin' started!
Anyway, we had a wonderfully renewing and laugh-filled lunch. Highlights included Zoms hitting on our waitress (though really he was doing it for a friend who wasn't present but had had a crush on this waitress years ago, but as usual, I digress); the gifting (to him) and subsequent naming of a second Totoro change purse (the first was from his brother and the second one from mine--too cool to be a mere coincidence--and yes, both change purses have names, why wouldn't they?); bonding over the need for more contemplative and creative time; a discussion of the reasons why blogs are good; and the planning of an evening picnic in the near future.
On the bus to and from our East Village rendezvous, I continued to work on un-knitting several rows of the merino lace cardi. Un-knitting, you say? Yes. In fact, I was going to write a post entitled "Chicken in hell" as in, I'm in hell because I'm too chicken to rip back, lest I drop stitches or forget where my stitch markers went. So instead I am painstakingly un-knitting each and every stitch of going on five rows. I swear, if this isn't the row with the mistake in it, someone's going to get hurt. Probably me, from banging my head against the wall. (I was going to show you a picture of the massive pile of kinky yarn I have going because of this process, but alas, both of the digital cameras in the house seem to be feeling especially uncooperative today. One will only take solid white pictures, and the other will only take solid black. I'm hoping it's just the tides or something).
If I don't resolve my issues with the cardi and the baby sweater soon, you may see me breaking my own vow (some silly thing about not starting anything new until the baby sweater is done) and casting on for those luscious alpaca wrist warmers...
*Note: This wombat photo is copyright 2001-2004, courtesy of Womland. Sorry I haven't yet figured out how to do captions. :)