One of the females that is enamored with David Wright, the Mets third baseman. One that would wear a "Mrs. Wright" t-shirt [I stress the word "would" as those shirts pack a heavy dose of cheddar]. One that when she opened her newest New York Magazine, she slightly melted when she read the Mr. Clean article. Yum. And my boys are undefeated! Now, don't start your yammering about how they've only played 3 games. Those three games [a sweep, oh fair ones!] were against the defending World Champions.
I'm also one of those knitters that loves to cast on. I love to start projects, pick yarn, sift through pattern books, bookmark ideas on webpages, ogle FOs on other blogs. Because of this obsession, perfectionism or just plain silliness, it causes casting on to be rather difficult and, moreover, ritualistic. This ritual occurred a few times over the past 2 weeks in my lovely abode in the big-bad-BK - secret feet socks and a cowl neck tank top. And of course, I have dreams now [and not just David Wright realizing that he's destined to be with me, but I have that dream too].
Dream #1: Socks must fit secretee. Oh socks must fit! But remember, no pictures until the secretee receives them.
Dream #2: My cowl neck tank top isn't TOO pink... is it?