The other day, I was digging for something I don't know what exactly on Fleabay. I spotted a miniature of Jean Patou's Makila. I had never heard about that one so I used uncle Google to check, found only a link to Octavian's blog... and then the miniature sold for something like 130 euros.
I thought something about idiotic collectors and half forgot about it. Some time later, I just randomly checked for Makila... and got a big bottle, around one-third full, for something like 20 euros. I never made it a secret that I'm cheap.
Makila is green. Dry and green as it can get. It should be a jasmine fragrance but having sniffed living jasmine for too long, I'd say it's more like crushed leaves of one of the Rumex species plus some dry hay. (1)
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(1) Do you think that I've been living with too much nature?
Tuesday, 4 January 2011
Sunday, 2 January 2011
New year
Blah, blah, world peace, blah blah.
So, I'm done with the compulsory well-wishing stuff and I can go back to incoherent whines and ranting about self, self, self, only myself. Or, not really. I'm putting some nail polish on my nails, to be exact, it's Chanel's 207 Barcelona Red, which looks rather vermilliony when freshly applied and changes to the exact shade of drying blood. I have to find the Killer Rabbit Lips lipstick to make the perfectly styled picture. I started a lame attempt for a fashion blog, by the way, but I'm not sure whether it doesn't suck, by chance. (You see? I'm superficial.)
Which leads me to the important matters: I broke my camera. I dropped it on the floor and now it's injured and not cooperating fully. No flash, borked electronics, so I'm stuck to my heaviest, bestest and most expensive lens which can be dealt with entirely manually. Pics take longer to take, they're messed up easier but when they're done well, they're done perfectly well. Since I'm at the office from dawn till dusk, not much of a problem in this season, don't expect too much colourful a content. Since I'm broke, broke to that extent that I'm not sure how I'll pay the bills, it has to wait until someday.
I was dusting the books a few days ago. This place is indeed slightly messy so I wasn't too surprised that I found a package of sleeping meds behind the Finnish-English dictionary. Upon closer scrutiny, I discovered that it's not ambien but antidepressants, some generic from the same company as my generic zolpidem, same design, different name. Since I had forgotten my psych meds in Prague and had only a few days worth, I started changing to the constantly angry and emotionally unstable older self but now I have my drugs back so I can be normal again. Did I mention that I found a new psychiatrist? Well, I did. He seems to be reasonable and rather a nice person. The bad thing is that it's two hours commute but after past experiences, I don't want a local shrink. Half of them are on my blacklist anyway, I've had quite a bit of history regarding a mental mess. (1)
Also, Tähti, with her usual regal dignity, so typical for Siamese cats, wishes for more belly rubs in 2001.
---------------------------------
(1) Should someone not be properly informed, I've been suffering from depressions on and off since I was 15 and I'm a sociophobic chickenshit even longer. It does odd and irrational things to me, generally rational and ordinate (cum grano salis) person. I however don't run around killing people, nor do I wear my (or someone else's, for that matter) underpants on my head.
So, I'm done with the compulsory well-wishing stuff and I can go back to incoherent whines and ranting about self, self, self, only myself. Or, not really. I'm putting some nail polish on my nails, to be exact, it's Chanel's 207 Barcelona Red, which looks rather vermilliony when freshly applied and changes to the exact shade of drying blood. I have to find the Killer Rabbit Lips lipstick to make the perfectly styled picture. I started a lame attempt for a fashion blog, by the way, but I'm not sure whether it doesn't suck, by chance. (You see? I'm superficial.)
Which leads me to the important matters: I broke my camera. I dropped it on the floor and now it's injured and not cooperating fully. No flash, borked electronics, so I'm stuck to my heaviest, bestest and most expensive lens which can be dealt with entirely manually. Pics take longer to take, they're messed up easier but when they're done well, they're done perfectly well. Since I'm at the office from dawn till dusk, not much of a problem in this season, don't expect too much colourful a content. Since I'm broke, broke to that extent that I'm not sure how I'll pay the bills, it has to wait until someday.
I was dusting the books a few days ago. This place is indeed slightly messy so I wasn't too surprised that I found a package of sleeping meds behind the Finnish-English dictionary. Upon closer scrutiny, I discovered that it's not ambien but antidepressants, some generic from the same company as my generic zolpidem, same design, different name. Since I had forgotten my psych meds in Prague and had only a few days worth, I started changing to the constantly angry and emotionally unstable older self but now I have my drugs back so I can be normal again. Did I mention that I found a new psychiatrist? Well, I did. He seems to be reasonable and rather a nice person. The bad thing is that it's two hours commute but after past experiences, I don't want a local shrink. Half of them are on my blacklist anyway, I've had quite a bit of history regarding a mental mess. (1)
Also, Tähti, with her usual regal dignity, so typical for Siamese cats, wishes for more belly rubs in 2001.
---------------------------------
(1) Should someone not be properly informed, I've been suffering from depressions on and off since I was 15 and I'm a sociophobic chickenshit even longer. It does odd and irrational things to me, generally rational and ordinate (cum grano salis) person. I however don't run around killing people, nor do I wear my (or someone else's, for that matter) underpants on my head.
Wednesday, 22 December 2010
While vacuuming under my bed...
... I found a dearly missed wristwarmer with several dust bunnies attached, seven packs of tissues, quite an amount of used tissues and a skein of yarn.
One thing is positive, the dust generator doesn't live under the bed. Gotta check the corners because I'm positive I can't be producing that much dust. Crumbs and sheddings, yes, but not dust.
Why, yes, I did some cleaning. It somehow happened that the floor was covered in yarn and shopping bags with things (and dust). Instead of cleaning reasonably, for example mopping the floor, I spent two days arranging yarn to future projects, ripping a failed sweater, skeining skeins and winding balls, washing that damn fluff that was chewed and drooled on by a friend's baby and such.
Christmas knitting is so much better than Christmas cleaning.
One thing is positive, the dust generator doesn't live under the bed. Gotta check the corners because I'm positive I can't be producing that much dust. Crumbs and sheddings, yes, but not dust.
Why, yes, I did some cleaning. It somehow happened that the floor was covered in yarn and shopping bags with things (and dust). Instead of cleaning reasonably, for example mopping the floor, I spent two days arranging yarn to future projects, ripping a failed sweater, skeining skeins and winding balls, washing that damn fluff that was chewed and drooled on by a friend's baby and such.
Christmas knitting is so much better than Christmas cleaning.
Tuesday, 21 December 2010
Laura
I met her back in Florence and, well, she rocks. She looks good, she's smart, she knows Italian. Exact opposite of me.
The other day, she sent me a calendar with pics of Switzerland. I wanted a diary - did I hint that my Italian sucks? And that we use it as a lingua franca? - but I got this wall calendar. I browsed it and discovered that they have at least two sheep breeds in Switzerland. I didn't go to check my stash whether I actually have some Swiss yarn but I don't think so. This should be fixed someday later, after I make a bigger dent in my current stash.
Anyway, I made a scarf for Laura. I didn't have enough of that turquoise yarn so I made it into a design feature and added a less prominent colour that matched well. While casting off, I ran out of that yarn as well so I created another design feature and added some very contrasting yarn.
Laura can happily drool because I'm not mailing anything until January 3, when the Postal Doom of Giftmas should be over. I also have an urgent itch to knit something else for her. She's petite and such people are a heaven sent gift from heaven when it comes to knitting clothes for them...
....wanders off pondering
The other day, she sent me a calendar with pics of Switzerland. I wanted a diary - did I hint that my Italian sucks? And that we use it as a lingua franca? - but I got this wall calendar. I browsed it and discovered that they have at least two sheep breeds in Switzerland. I didn't go to check my stash whether I actually have some Swiss yarn but I don't think so. This should be fixed someday later, after I make a bigger dent in my current stash.
Anyway, I made a scarf for Laura. I didn't have enough of that turquoise yarn so I made it into a design feature and added a less prominent colour that matched well. While casting off, I ran out of that yarn as well so I created another design feature and added some very contrasting yarn.
Laura can happily drool because I'm not mailing anything until January 3, when the Postal Doom of Giftmas should be over. I also have an urgent itch to knit something else for her. She's petite and such people are a heaven sent gift from heaven when it comes to knitting clothes for them...
....wanders off pondering
Monday, 20 December 2010
Yarn! Stuff to make yarn!
Last week, I had some mail.
A fellow Raveller, after my rant along the lines of Look, I can spin, sent me a heap of roving in various materials to try. I was somewhat busy working (yeah, I do work sometimes) so I only petted the fibres, put them aside in the shelf and dabbled in my editor work.
And, Joanna mailed me some stuff she got on my behalf on fleabay and such places. As if my stash hasn't already been threating to ingest me. But, it's all pretty yarns.
(To those who know me better than cursorily: nope, candy pink is not my colour at all and nope, I don't have any specific plan for that yarn. Same for steel grey. But I have a crapton of yarn to knit while thinking.)
A fellow Raveller, after my rant along the lines of Look, I can spin, sent me a heap of roving in various materials to try. I was somewhat busy working (yeah, I do work sometimes) so I only petted the fibres, put them aside in the shelf and dabbled in my editor work.
And, Joanna mailed me some stuff she got on my behalf on fleabay and such places. As if my stash hasn't already been threating to ingest me. But, it's all pretty yarns.
(To those who know me better than cursorily: nope, candy pink is not my colour at all and nope, I don't have any specific plan for that yarn. Same for steel grey. But I have a crapton of yarn to knit while thinking.)
Saturday, 11 December 2010
Soap
I make things. (Obviously.)
Sometimes I myself wonder whether I'm so cheap, so crazy or so freaking creative, trying to find a reason why I bother. I suspect the real reasons are two: it is indeed cheaper to make things and... it's fun.
Ladies and gentlemen, let me present you my soap. Last week, I boiled some lye in bad oil to see how it works, threw the stinky thing away content that chemistry is the same as ever, took good oil and more lye and cooked it until yellow. Since I'm not much of an expert in technology, I just left the matter sit in the pot and it hardened. I should have added the fragrances and stuff before it would harden and pour it in a mold but I did not so I needed to use the other technology - soak, chop, knead, let dry.
Pot of soap, knife, board, perfumes, namely Eau du Calvados, Mahora with an addition of some myrtle cologne, Boucheron's Jaïpur in extrait and limited edition bottle, Santa Maria Novella's Cuoio di Spagna
After having finely chopped the crude soap, I added some hazelnut oil and divided the 'dough' in approximately equal bits.
I made little depressions in each of the soap balls and poured in a not-really-carefully measured amount of fragrance, now they look almost edible. Then I kneaded until even.
The soap bars with fingerprints of yours truly are now sitting on my fugly blue plastic carving board and drying - there will be some pictures later on. It is a gift for my mother and if she doesn't like it, she's getting itchy woolen socks for the rest of her life.
Sometimes I myself wonder whether I'm so cheap, so crazy or so freaking creative, trying to find a reason why I bother. I suspect the real reasons are two: it is indeed cheaper to make things and... it's fun.
Ladies and gentlemen, let me present you my soap. Last week, I boiled some lye in bad oil to see how it works, threw the stinky thing away content that chemistry is the same as ever, took good oil and more lye and cooked it until yellow. Since I'm not much of an expert in technology, I just left the matter sit in the pot and it hardened. I should have added the fragrances and stuff before it would harden and pour it in a mold but I did not so I needed to use the other technology - soak, chop, knead, let dry.
Pot of soap, knife, board, perfumes, namely Eau du Calvados, Mahora with an addition of some myrtle cologne, Boucheron's Jaïpur in extrait and limited edition bottle, Santa Maria Novella's Cuoio di Spagna
After having finely chopped the crude soap, I added some hazelnut oil and divided the 'dough' in approximately equal bits.
I made little depressions in each of the soap balls and poured in a not-really-carefully measured amount of fragrance, now they look almost edible. Then I kneaded until even.
The soap bars with fingerprints of yours truly are now sitting on my fugly blue plastic carving board and drying - there will be some pictures later on. It is a gift for my mother and if she doesn't like it, she's getting itchy woolen socks for the rest of her life.
Swollen
After a course of antibiotics, I noticed a slight improvement but I dare say that I don't feel exactly well. I get deadly tired after 15 minutes of walking instead of five and I get less fever spells.
I have an appointment with allergist/immunologist on Thursday and for the proper testing, I need to be weaned off the antihistamines. No allergy meds - snotty nose and swollen eyes and various itches and such. Yesterday I was at a friend's place and she has four cats. I have only one cat allergy but it got pretty bad. Now I'm in my house which is devoid of cats so I'm just plainly swollen and sneezy. I fished out the corticoid sprays and stuff and I'm trying to survive somehow. It sucks. And, bad allergy means an upcoming headache. It probably has some better reason than buildup of excessive snot that starts leaking into my brain but it feels exactly like that.
I have a new psychiatrist. So far, he seems to be rather cool so I hold hopes. We discussed my current mental and physical state (I feel like shit and I have a bit of fever, can't be entirely psychosomatic) and I got more antidepressants because but for the fever, it can be indeed depression and it's worth trying. So far, no results but I feel at least a bit optimistic.
Nothing much can help my face, though. Maybe I could try an ice pack. Snorgling a kitty, otherwise a universal cure for just about anything would certainly fail this time.
I have an appointment with allergist/immunologist on Thursday and for the proper testing, I need to be weaned off the antihistamines. No allergy meds - snotty nose and swollen eyes and various itches and such. Yesterday I was at a friend's place and she has four cats. I have only one cat allergy but it got pretty bad. Now I'm in my house which is devoid of cats so I'm just plainly swollen and sneezy. I fished out the corticoid sprays and stuff and I'm trying to survive somehow. It sucks. And, bad allergy means an upcoming headache. It probably has some better reason than buildup of excessive snot that starts leaking into my brain but it feels exactly like that.
I have a new psychiatrist. So far, he seems to be rather cool so I hold hopes. We discussed my current mental and physical state (I feel like shit and I have a bit of fever, can't be entirely psychosomatic) and I got more antidepressants because but for the fever, it can be indeed depression and it's worth trying. So far, no results but I feel at least a bit optimistic.
Nothing much can help my face, though. Maybe I could try an ice pack. Snorgling a kitty, otherwise a universal cure for just about anything would certainly fail this time.
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