I should feel wittier

or something. But I don't. I just feel this empty blog yawning before me, mocking me.
So I scrounged up a cute template. I wanted to add one of those kick-ass project-o-meters I see on all the cool knitting blogs. Oh yes, there are knitting blogs by the bajillion. But I had permanent fatal errors with my shitty code abilities. By which I mean my copy and paste in the right hole abilities. I don't write code. Oh, no. I leave that crap to the hubs. But thanks to computer genius knitters, I triumphed! And now it's cute, it has meters and all that's missing is some navel gazing. My speciality.

So here I am, world: a new blog, a new outlet for my bitchery, and my knittery. I might bust out into song, or tears, I never quite know what the hell is going to happen. If you're here, you probably know me. Or you think you know, but you have no idea...ahhh, remember when The Real World was something other than a drunken, spray-tanned herpes nest?

Here is a crazypants moment that is pretty funny:
At knitting group a while back my knitties Beth and Erin were discussing crockpots. Midwesterners love the shit out of some crockpots in case you never knew this. I think it's genetic. I use mine a lot and many of my friends do as well. I go through them a lot, too, sadly. They drown, they get smashed all to hell by the husband, I threw a dirty one away at 3 am during a basement flood just because, well, it seemed like a good idea at the moment (I miss that thing!) So knitting group, yeah...
My friends both have new traveling crockies. With locking lids. So no more spilling hot chili in the car as Beth explained enthusiastically (she makes some awesome chili, but it's probably less awesome to drive the chili mobile around for a few weeks)
I exclaimed how much I wanted one. And then added "Wait, why does the agoraphobic girl need a TRAVELING crockpot?" Because , yeah...not so much, really.
I got one, though. After The Man smashed my old one to hell by dropping a full third of my glassware into it I figured why not shoot for the moon? Big crockpot, big dreams and all that.