Eric Stoltz, on whom I've had a celebrity crush for, oh, my whole life, says he'd like to be "the first American actor who actually sets out to achieve success in Canada." And he's not joking. Click here to read the interview with this zany dude. Click here to see my boyfriend Eric Stoltz in a yummy sweater.

Making a lacy sock is one thing, but I never thought I'd want to make a huge, lacy shawl -- until I saw Rachael's, that is! How pretty is that? Maybe I'll make something like that someday. Not now, though. There are too many other things on my to-knit list.

I've mentioned before that I'm the slowest knitter on the planet. Well, I'm pleased to tell you that I've jumped up a few places to become maybe the tenth-slowest knitter. Thanks to the Internet, I taught myself to knit about ten months ago; thanks to my Aunt Nance, I've now been holding my yarn correctly for about four weeks! I can't even describe what I was doing before, but it involved letting go of the right needle at every stitch to wrap the working yarn around the loop. Compared to my previous stitching speed, I'm now on the knitting Autobahn. Thanks, Aunt Nance! Now if only I had more time, I could get some serious knitting done. Curse this forty-eight-hour-a-week job that I have! I can't wait to be a student again.

Do any of you Grammar Avengers have a copy of the new Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary? Many people don't realize that it's not good enough to keep using the same edition of a dictionary for life. Two words: living language. For a sample of words that were added to the eleventh edition of Merriam-Webster's, click here. Oy! What do you think? I was surprised that some of the words are appearing for the first time (Goth, comb-over); others are unworthy, in my opinion (dead-cat bounce? please). Unfortunately, the Web site doesn't provide a list of the words that were removed to make way for "barista," "tankini," and "buckytube," but here's an interesting column about those "evicted words": "Sure, the dictionary got 'phat,' but it also trimmed the fat...". The columnist makes a good point about geography-based elitism in language, too.

Speaking of excellent words, Sunday's word of the day on Dictionary.com was titivate: to smarten up; to spruce up.

"Come here, an' let me titivate you.'' He sat down beside her, and submitted to be dusted. (Arthur Quiller-Couch)

Here is something that happens when you are thirty: It seems like all the famous people are dying. It seems like you recognize every obituary -- and not only do you know the names, but their films, books, and music are part of your life. Is it just me who is noticing this? I mean, look at the last few weeks alone: Johnny Cash, John Ritter, George Plimpton, Elia Kazan, Robert Palmer. I don't know. It just seems like a lot of people to me.

Proof!



Warning: This link contains a reference to a certain fish being "yummy." Strict vegetarians may be disturbed and/or offended. This link also contains one or two particularly bad photos of me. However, the urge to prove my fishing prowess is stronger than my vanity.

Enter at your own risk.

[There used to be a photo here.]

This is my friend Marlo and me at the lovely little store in Montreal that sells both used books and Patons yarn. Could two better worlds possibly collide? I bought seven balls of Patons Canadiana for a sweater, with no pattern in mind and no idea whether seven balls is enough or too much. I also picked up a book called The Grammar Lady, by Mary Newton Bruder. Maybe you all know about this lady already, but I didn't. I want to be her. Her mission is to make people care about grammar. And she's funny.

[There used to be a photo here.]

Later that day, I popped into what seems to be the LYS in the city, A la tricoteuse. In the photo, I'm holding a Phildar bag, but inside are two balls of Regia mini-ringel yarn.

I haven't even unpacked all my new yarn, so I don't have an inventory. But now I'm a lady with a stash! Oh, the coveted stash! I only bought things with specific projects in mind. Lots of socks, a sweater for me, a toddler sweater, a scarf for me, mittens, dishcloths, and another ChicKami.* At the moment, I'm knitting a pair of socks for myself. The pattern, Lace Panel Socks, is from a Patons booklet called Pull up your socks. I'm enjoying doing the lace. This is something that surprises me a little about myself, for some reason. Anyway, I think they'll look nice in a pair of Mary Janes.

*What do I mean, another ChicKami? Yes, I did finish my RocKami from way, way back. I have to block it, and then I'll have Billy take my picture in it. Is that an easy pattern or what? I like the shape of the square neck a lot, though next time I'll try to set the straps a little farther apart. My bra straps sit outside of my RocKami straps, but hey, that can rock! Right?

Oh, and about the latest Knitty: the only thing I want to make is the bpt. I like some of the other things, but I don't want to make them. Maybe next year I'll make a poncho villa for the Canadian autumn. Navy blue, I think. Man, I miss autumn. It's my favourite time of the year, but it doesn't really happen here in Taipei. I'm happy to report, though, that summer is pretty much over now. Still a bit damp and sweaty, but cooler. Ahh.

I'm still struggling to get back into the routine of ordinary life post-holiday. I'll try to bring you some photos and a knitting update this weekend. In the meantime, I offer you a few things to read (a.k.a. a blogging copout).

"School offers only 'guy stuff' for day" (National Post):

In an experiment that some have criticized as a throwback to the 1950s, a high school here yesterday sent the girls off to learn hairstyling and makeup tips while the boys stayed behind to be boys. ... "It's not fair," 15-year-old Valerie said as she and a friend left school. "We don't have any fun activities like the boys. We don't get a free supper. Instead they give us makeup, hairstyling and sewing. I'd rather see the four-wheelers."

"Sexism: Who's calling the shots?" (The Age):

The business of interpreting images of women has never been more complicated. Indeed, it might be hard for the average man, looking at the bewildering array of images on display, to work out what women feel about themselves.

"Give me strength!" (Guardian columnist Julie Burchill):

As "empowering" has come to mean a woman's right to thongs and pole-dancing, rather than equal pay, so a Strong Woman is now not one who has struggled to survive poverty and oppression, but one whose life of emotional incontinence and sucking up to men has been thwarted -- before she "struggles" back to her usual state of self-deception.

Oh, and thanks for your support -- and awesome comeback suggestions -- yesterday. Man, knitters are tough, yo!

I'm a zombie today. I have no energy. I want to go back to bed. Delayed jet lag? Hmm. I had my feelings hurt last night, so that isn't helping. Remember I was gloating yesterday about being told I looked thinner and tanned? I went out with some friends for a beer after work last night. (I should preface this little exchange by pointing out that these are stereotypically bitchy British gay friends.) I arrive at the bar with my coworker Danny (a nice Australian gay friend), and Jon is already there.

Jon (to me): Well, you've really stacked on the weight, haven't you?
Me (stunned): Uh...
Jon: Oh, it's just that A-line skirt. (pauses for a beat) At least, I hope it is!

OK, ouch. And double ouch for being too surprised to come up with a biting comeback -- or even a petty, reactionary one, for Pete's sake. (A simple "you're an enormous bitch" would've sufficed.) And feeling crappy for the rest of the evening, wondering why on earth I let him get away with that, knowing full well that his royal gayness seemed somehow to excuse this totally rude comment. Also annoyed because I'm not even the kind of lady who gives a crap about her weight. Grrr. Anyway, when I left the bar, where I'd been sitting next to Jon, I said, "I'm going. You'll have lots more room now, darling."