It's 2:30am, and I'm wide awake. Which does not bode well for the 7 miles I'm supposed to be running tomorrow. Actually, today.
I finished one of my socks. Good news is that it's gorgeous. Bad news is that it would have fit me fine, when I was about 6 years old. Back to square one, with a bigger set of needles. I did check my gauge, but apparently I knit differently in the round than I do the regular way...who'da thunk? And when you check gauge, you make a swatch the regular way. So I didn't even bother to swatch this time. I'm totally guessing. To tell the truth, though, I think the pattern is flawed. The part where it doesn't fit me is in a spot where I was supposed to knit until the sock measured a certain length, and said length wasn't even close to being enough. It's not like I have gargantuan boat feet, people...on the contrary, my feet are freakishly small.
I rode my scooter for a little while today. It was 74 degrees out, and from what I understand it's about to get very cold very fast, so I went all carpe diem and took her out for a bit before it got dark. It needed a thing or two done to it (nothing that prevents it from being rideable), and J offered to let me take his instead, but why in God's name would I want to ride a silver scooter? Part of the point of my scooter - maybe even the entire point - is that she's PINK. I haven't been the happiest person lately, but within a minute of revving the engine and cranking the tunes, I was grinning like a cheeseball idiot.
I defy anybody not to smile when they're riding a pink scooter. It simply cannot be done.