Kittens, Knitting, and Random Blah

Yeah, so I'm late. Sue me. My birthday was yesterday. My year turned over at about 12:20 pm yesterday. I'm having a party tomorrow night, and we bought $200 worth of food for it tonight. Yeah. We eat a lot, OK? That's 24 hours worth of food right there. And it will really be 24 hours, because we get an extra one at 2 am on the 30th.

And, joy of joys! I got my bass clarinet back last night, too. But Meaghan won't be playing with me. She missed the tryout opportunity, and Miss P won't give her a second chance, so she's dropping band. Crap. I wanted us to finish out her senior year! And I don't wanna play all by myself; I need some support, someone else to blame things on, someone whose music I can borrow if I forget mine! I want my Meaghan! I feel really bad, too, about her missing tryouts, but I thought she asked Miss P when they were! Why wouldn't she have? Oh, Meaghan! Why? I've got to try to do something for her; try to convince Miss P to let her try, at least. It's not like anyone else wants it! Only she, Pat and I went up for the music, and he's in the other band. Poor Meaghan!

Had to throw in another adorable picture of Wisk, seen here investigating the newest stash enhancement, explained in a little bit. And, if Blogger cooperates, a picture of Spaz on our table near the Sweetest Day gift my totally wonderful boyfriend gave me, a dozen red, long-stemmed roses. Mmm...he really is the sweetest guy ever! Just up and gives me roses. ^-^! Yay! And today, he gave me half a bar of chocolate and a CD, um, let me check who it was real quick..I have to because I've never heard of him before, or likely heard his music. Ah- Chris Botti, To Love Again. I'll have to listen to it soon.
I just recieved a box from someone in Brooklyn, New York that I think was the lady who had offered me some needles and yarn she found unharmed in a garbage can. Knowing that it was dangerous, but believing in the goodness and kindness of strangers, I gave her a mailing address, and poof! Here it is today! A slightly-worn copy of The Step-by-Step Needlecraft Encyclopedia, two wooden, but unmarked, needles and some lovely, fluffy lavender yarn. I feel bad about the intention to rip out the already-done bit of what I believe may have been a wide scarf, but I can't stand the idea of it staying in that messy skein, and, well, I don't need a purple scarf. First in the photo-parade is the entire contents of the box, followed by a skein close-up, the knitting, and the book.
I'm curious as to what the stuff is. I must hunt down that burn test thingy I heard about in the Knitty Coffeeshop. It is lovely and soft, and has like one skinny strand, and lots of wisps off of it. Kind of looks like cat hair.

Mmm...book...
And overall, things are peachy. I'm just not touching the sweater until I get over the fact that I have to rip out everything I've done.

First object of sorrow is the fact that I may have to rip back and reknit the entire body and first sleeve of my sweater. Ugh. So I won't get to wear that as soon as I'd hoped.

Second object of sorrow is band related. My director has informed us that due to there being supposedly twice the number of people interested in bass clarinet as she is willing to accept, who plays will be decided by audition. On the soprano clarinet. That in itself is total BS. I can only think of one person who wants to play other than me. Maybe two. And one of them isn't sure she's even going to stay in band after marching season. Beyond the fact that playing soprano is a different story than playing bass. The mouthpiece of the bass is bigger, and horizontal. The keys are further apart. It takes more air.

I almost think she's setting me up. She knows damn well that I cannot play soprano as well as anyone else, even at my grade level, because of three things: I began playing a year after they did, I switched to bass almost immediately and played THAT for THREE AND A HALF YEARS, and I hate soprano. You can not be truly good at something your heart isn't in. I have the most experience of them all at the part we are auditioning for. And she knows that, too! I would have to drop band if I didn't get to play bass. The joy would be gone. You would think that because of my immense seniority AND the fact that I was in first chair for all of the past three years- including when I went to Livingston County High School Honors Band in a 49 person Wind Ensemble -she'd already know that I am the best she's got. I've already proven myself. She stuck me into a band that was for Juniors and Seniors as a Sophomore, and I accelled! Sure, my one solo was a little quiet at Festival, but she can't hold that against me; I'd never had it as an actual solo before; Meaghan had always been there for me. And she had Jordan supposedly supporting me at Festival. Where was he?

But oh! I need to get that part! I must practice the audition piece day and night. And I came to the realization that my musical existance rests in a single reed. One piece of music, one reed. For a reed can make or break you in an audition. O my gods! Help me!

I am so tired. Wiskers somehow managed to burn his whiskers. I really don't know how. And I have lots of homework, tests to prepare for, work, Band stuff, blech. Plus the fact that I sit up at night with my brain not letting me sleep.

Good news is that I have started on the second sleeve for Topsecret. The bad news is that I'll have to rip back the first sleeve. I think. It's 18 inches around, when it's only supposed to be 15, so I'm trying the second sleeve on US 10 needles instead, to see if I like that better. But I think I'm going to shorten the sleeves' length to 15 inches rather than 19, as I have shorter arms, too. With the yoke, the final measurement is 27 inches from shoulder to end of sleeve, and that's just too long for my arms. With my adjustment, it'll only be 23 inches. I'm going to check on a few things first, though, to make sure.

I'd have some more pictures, but I lent Josh the camera for his lab. Ooh, I almost forgot; I'm also beginning to grow two Oak trees from sprouting acorns I found. One of them is a White Oak, and the other one is unknown. There were only Red, White, Swamp White, and Black Oaks in the yard they came from, though. I intend to make the unknown one into a little tree, like the little ones people give for gifts,* and to just let the White Oak grow. We'll see how it works out.

* I know what the word is. I just took it out of the post because I've gotten lots of blog spam from something related. I'm trying to get rid of it all.