In the mood to ramble

I know I said 'more later' in my previous post, but not in the mood, so here's the short version:

We drive around having no clue where the hell we are going. At one point, the road even turns to sand. By some miracle we actually find the restaurant and I fall in love with the little fishing village it's in. The town is a complete dilapidated wreck, but it's remote and cute and on the water...and everybody talks funny. I want to buy one of the little bungalows that is falling over for the $20 it looks like it's worth, get a boat and commence my new existence as a salty dog. But then dinner is over and so is my fantasy. Next time I visit the area, I will investigate further. The End.

On a completely unrelated note...

I want to comment on all this hubbub about Cheney shooting some guy. I get that it's news. I mean, that's the Vice President, and he shot somebody, I understand. But the deal the media is making out of the timing of briefings and all the "why did you wait until Sunday to tell us" seems weird and so unimportant that I want to scream at the TV and tell them all to just shut up. Now, if Cheney had gone on some sort of shooting spree (besides the one we already got going on) now that would be news. But accidentally spraying some old lawyer with bird shot? Sure it's worth a mention, but the press is acting like there is some plot to keep it all secret, and screaming 'let us know', 'you knew that yesterday?' and 'why haven't you told us more!' Normally I like it when the press digs into the administration, but come on people, this is just ridiculous. You're reaching, and reaching at nothing. You are manufacturing drama and no one cares. You look ridiculous.

On yet another unrelated note...

Last Wednesday was my first experience with a new knitting group. The group I had previously dwindled to just 2, and my partner in knitting, I fear, is in need of more creative and crafty interaction. So we discover this other group on the internet and we show up in all our awkward and self conscious glory.

It was ok. There was definitely a lot of knitting going on. In the other group (um, pairing) there was a lot of wine drinking going on, mostly by me. New place? No wine, just coffee and pastries. But at least it has better lighting.

Most of the ladies were perfectly nice, though a touch snobbish about the knitting, and the yarn, and god, the fiber...oh, have you seen the fiber! (fiber is a fancy word for hair that grows out of an animals skin and often covered in shit). But there were a few girls there I'm hoping to talk to more tonight. One of them, when I told her my partner and I used to meet at a bar to knit, got a far off look and then turned to me and said "That is a fantastic idea." I liked her immediately.

Other girl, I will call her Glasses, I liked not so much.

The Scene: Quiet Girl is knitting some sort of sweater. She is holding her needles in her hands and looking down at the pattern she is following. Glasses is sitting next to her.

Glasses: I made a sweater just like that, but I didn’t use a pattern.

Quiet Girl: Oh. Well, I guess if I had made one like this before, it wouldn’t be that hard without a pattern.

Glasses: I didn’t say it was easy. It wasn’t easy.

Nacho: Well aren’t you just the Master of the Knitting fucking Universe.

Ok, I didn’t say that.

On the walk back from knitting we had a good dish on the ladies. Mostly bad because I am a horrible person, and it makes me feel better about myself when I make fun of others. I'm sure they all had choice bits to say about me too. But tonight I will win them over. Yes I will. Because the only thing worse than my habit of making fun of other people, is my need to have people like me. It's all very complicated. I am an enigma, even to myself.