Farewell, TV

I'm going to miss TV. The strike was so long, and then, a few weeks after it was over, all the shows came back like a big warm blanket of forget-about-everything-for-40-minutes.

Re: The House Finale. I haven't cried that hard since Deathly Hallows. Geez.

I really need a job.

On the Knitting front, there is not much to report. I have started knitting a skirt of my own design using Noro Silk Garden. Hopefully it will go well, and not end with me frogging the whole thing, on the verge of tears at my own diy incompetence.
A girl can dream.

I have actually officially finished all of the blocks for the SLAfghan, however, I am afraid to block them. I don't know what I would do if something went wrong, especially since these (64) blocks have been 1 year in the knitting. I guess I'll just have to do it one day, for gods'sake.

I have also started a new entrelac afghan, with yarn (Noro Kureyon) and needles supplied by my mother. (Enabler.) It's going to be quite cool in a horrible-but-brilliant sort of way.

I am excited to recieve my Grandmother's sewing machine at some point in the future. Though sewing, to me, is one of those things that more for the exact patience, and less for the crazy winging it. Which is not me, so much.

In Other news, I think I may have done alright on my first Osteology exam, though I don't want to speak too soon. We shall see.

I think I am actually ready to start writing my first feature-length screenplay, but I am afraid I will screw it up before page 10. Nevermind telling me that there's such thing as editing and a backspace key, I am made of paranoia. Too afraid to start something for fear of screwing it up.
This is my life.

---

I leave you with a song, which attempts to create some sort of angry-grrl vibe, riffing on the popular subject of pretentious douchebags. (None in particular, of course) Inspired by a single line in an episode of Supernatural, if you can believe it.

Millertime

It's a bit skippy in places because it's two takes cobbled together.

I'll accompany this with a reminder of my usual caveat regarding my musical (in)abilities: I know I'm not good, but dang'd if it ain't fun for me.