Just When I Thought I the Meds Were Kicking In …
… this meme hits the Internet -- Google your name with the word "needs" and see what comes up. Total nonsense or eerily prophetic … you decide.

Amy needs to either wake up or start getting some extra will-power.

I don't believe that Amy needs sex.*

Amy is a vibrant women with emotional and physical needs.*

Amy is a sweet 8-year-old flat-coated retriever and German shepherd mix.**

We see how Amy needs and helps the horse and how he needs and helps her.**

We really need to shed the dead weight of pathetic appeasers like Amy.

Amy needs to mend her ways and be more of a team player.

Pivotel Skin in Shade D is perfect for Amy, whose olive skin takes a beating.

Amy needs to decide if the boys ought to be transferred to "adult court."

I can even send free voicemails with Amy.

Amy's UI needs quite a bit more work though.***

What if Amy needs an emergent Caesarean?

And my personal favorite:

Bad shoes and backtalk -- this never happened when Intern Amy was here.

Happy Friday, everyone.

*So which is it? And apparently, I'm a women.
**What's with the animal theme?
***"Amy" is Skype's new answering machine feature. But that crack about my interface needing work jibes with the fact that I'm waaaaay overdue to visit the gym. It must be that emergent Caesarean that's got me tripped up.

Ponch Gets His Retirement On
So just how many resort communities is Erik Estrada shilling for these days? Hmm, I've seen him pitching on early morning infomercials for Hot Springs Village, Florida; California Pines; Ocean Shores, Washington; and some backwoods mosquito factory called Tellico, Tennessee. I worry that poor Ponch has been duped into pitching acreage for what will, one day, certainly become a series of Love Canals. Really, can you imagine the depositions? "Yeah, Jimmy Bob Junior's hair always glowed funny after getting out of that there lake!" or "Boy, that darn dishwater made my Corelle plates glow in the dark! I never had to buy candles after moving here!" or "What? You never seen a dog with 5 legs? Damn, where you from? Every 12th dog round these parts has an extra leg or ear or whatnot!"

Stop, Ponch, before it's too late!

Hi Kids, Amy here: I know I haven't been writing about knitting, lately (pleasedon'tkickmeoffthelist); I'm just trying to get into the habit of merely writing again. I've also read every single one of your comments and again, though I haven't written anyone back individually, I want to thank each of you for your kind words. They mean so much. OK. I'm off to ponder more of life's conundrums, such as, "Why does the guy that sells Ronco Showtime Rotisserie Oven on TV look like he's been enbalmed?"

So my sister and I are talking on the phone the other day, and we're commiserating about our mutual struggle with compulsive overeating, especially when under stress. DS says she went to an Overeater's Anonymous meeting last week, and it was good for her.

"I think I'm starting to understand the "giving it up to a Higher Power" part, now," she says. "I didn't when I tried a meeting a few years ago."

"Oh, really," I say, "When did you go to an OA meeting?"

"Oh, about 5 years ago. But it wasn't right for me. The woman next to me had bare feet, and she picked at them during the entire meeting. Then we had to get up and hold hands and say the Serenity Prayer. It was really hard to take in the message while holding this woman's hand."

Amen, sis, amen.

This show has got me hooked like a fish on a line. How could you not love a story line about a character whose modeling career as a Page 3 girl has been ruined due to the burning of her br*asts during a tragic dining accident on the eve of her wedding? Especially when the character has a name like (I kid you not) Chardonnay? I mean, come on!

Happy Monday, everyone.

Saw the funniest thing as I was driving about last Saturday -- signs for a yard sale that morning. Not plain 'ol "Yard Sale" and an arrow, but a series of cleverly written come-ons that, I'm sure, packed 'em in.

First Sign: SHORT BUT INTENSE! Yard Sale

Second Sign, 1/4 mile away: FIVE CRAZY HOURS!

Third Sign: Kitchenware, Toys, Clothes, OBJECTS OF MYSTERY!

Fourth Sign: EPISODE IV, PURGE OF THE HOUSEHOLD!

Fifth Sign: EARLY CHRISTMAS SHOPPING (for those you really don't care much about)

And no, I didn't go. I didn't want to spoil the build-up from those nutty signs.

Happy Wednesday, everyone.

Color Me Medicated
DH has been (gently) bugging me to start blogging again. Sigh. So here's my reluctant re-entry into blogdom -- the MIT Weblog Survey:



Thank you to everyone who took the time to email or leave a comment -- please know that I read and appreciated every single one, but really wasn't in a place to respond to them. Still not sure if I am, so for the immediate future entries might be a bit one-way.

Peace, Love, 'n Prozac,
Amy

After a False Start, a Brief Respite
Hey kids, Amy here. I'm taking a blog break of indeterminate length, to deal with a nasty bout of depression. It's been coming on since Thanksgiving of last year, and has reached a crisis point in the last few weeks. I have a good support system in place (LCSW for talking, PhD for meds), and hope to see the clouds lift in a few weeks. Right now, however, I'm down in the trenches fighting to gain ground. I'm going to be OK, but I'm stretched real thin and blogging just ain't a priority when getting up and getting into the shower every day is a major victory. Beam a few positive thoughts my way, and I'll see you soon.

Make.It.Go.Away.
Please. Stop the insanity!

Nathalie requested a "No Poncho" button -- it's on the sidebar for all you fellow Anti-Serape types :-) Please copy it to your own web hosting server -- stealing bandwidth ain't cool. But you knew that.

Happy Monday, everyone.

The Gauntlet Has Been Thrown.
One week ago today, a certain Domestic Goddess was set free from her government-sponsored sabbatical. She was shown exiting the prison wearing this:



Said garment was purportedly made for Martha by a fellow camper; all in all, a nice gesture. And nice of mega-bucks Martha, who could have swathed herself in head-to-toe designer togs for her highly photographed prison exit, to wear such a humble gift. Kudos to her for that.

My quibble? The garment in question is a poncho. A frickin' poncho. It's already been a watershed year for The Return of The Poncho, with yarn companies and pattern designers falling all over themselves to feed the Poncho Jones that's been created.

Don't get me wrong. Ponchos are mucho comfy, hide a multitude of figure flaws, and are eminently makeable for even the most novice knitters or crocheters. My main gripe lies with, again, the pattern and yarn manufacturers who, since Martha's release last Friday, have stuffed my email box with breathless announcements of coming poncho patterns "Just like Martha's!" Lion Brand and Herrschners battled all week to be first. The winner? Herrschners, with a poncho made from Bernat's Galaxy yarn.

Hey, I'm no less guilty than anyone else. I hopped on the Poncho Train when it first left the station about 2 years ago, knitting up this cute number from Lopi #21 (see Design #10 on the page). My sister and mom love it, and mom has sort of commandeered it. I even knit 2 quickie Peruvian Alpaca ponchos for the wives of my husband's triathlon coaches.

A glimmer of hope arrived in my mailbox this week: the latest Patternworks catalog. Yes, a fair number of ponchos were featured, but the ratio is slowwwly tilting back toward more traditional knitwear. And I, for one, am glad. I started mentally totting up all the "must-have" knit items of the last two years. Imagine piling all this stuff on and going out the door: Knit or crocheted poncho, felted clogs or slippers, novelty yarn scarf, felted handbag (with knitted facecloth tucked firmly inside), and for heaven's sakes, don't forget your prayer shawl. Not a pretty sight.

So, in honor of my husband's comment as I finished up the Lopi Poncho ("Nice serape, sweetie."), I am officially declaring AmyKnits! to be a No Poncho Zone. The Official Ambassador of the No Poncho Zone is the Ultimate Bad *ss Poncho Wearer of All Time, Mr. Clint Eastwood as seen in The Good, The Bad & The Ugly. Anyone got any complaints? Take it up with Clint. But only if you feel lucky. Well, do ya?



Happy Friday, everyone.

52 people at yesterday's Open House. One offer faxed in to our realtor at 10pm last night -- a lowball offer from a newlywed couple hoping for a steal. We're countering with a higher number. We'll see what happens (most likely nothing).

DH is a training maniac these days -- he biked 34 miles on Saturday and ran about 8 miles on Sunday, all to get ready for this in 2 weeks -- The Ralph's California Half-Ironman. I am in complete awe of his discipline and determination. The percentage of people on this planet who even compete in triathlons is incredibly small (about 1%). Of that 1%, how many are 52yo men? An even tinier percentage. Amazing.

So you think that'd inspire me to run, bike or swim, myself? Ha. I'm going through a fitness & diet slump of epic proportions, dating back to around Thanksgiving. I know what I need to do, but have yet to do it. Very discouraging.

While cultivating my middle-aged spread even further, I did manage to get a bunch of knitting done:



I'm a bit worried -- it's looking very wide and short for a sweater. Of course, being a Commando Knitter (to hell with gauge or trying the darn thing on), I've bullied ahead and knit the body and about 1/2 of the first sleeve before I discovered the possible (mis)fit problem. Sigh.

Happy Monday, everyone.

An Embarrassment of Riches
I'm swimming in Winning Bottlecaps from the recent Pepsi/iTunes promotion:



Six, count 'em, six winning iTunes caps and two "buy 1 liter, get 1 free" caps. Don't you wish you were me? I know I do.

No "new house" pictures, but some knittin's goin' on here at Amy Knits! Amazing, but true:



That blurry pile of oat-colored knitting will eventually grow up to be this:



From my seemingly never-ending supply of Lion Brand Wool-Ease in the Wheat Sprinkle colorway.

On the Old House Front: another Open House this Sunday. Wish us luck.

Happy Friday, everyone.

The Good
60 people at the realtor's Open House yesterday.

The Bad
Digital camera still MIA.

The Ugly
Revel in Post-Oscar Fugliness.

Happy Monday, everyone!

She's Baaaack!

File Under "What The?": The Mancho!

See ya soon, peeps. Digital camera is on the down low, chillin' in a moving box. Getting ready for an Open House on the "old house" this Sunday. Busy, busy. All yarn packed in boxes. I'm going through withdrawal. Peace out.

Happy New Year!
I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday! I know I did.

Big news! Chez Yarnover is moving to a new (larger!) house! Plus, my brother (a Navy petty officer) will be bunking with us while he takes a class here in San Diego. Quel chaotic! So until we're moved (target date: end of January), posts will be sporadic. Bear with me!

Happy Monday and Happy New Year to everyone.