Uh, no.

Phone: *Rings*
CallerID: *is unfamiliar*
Me: Hello?
Person on other end: Where /are/ you?
Me, baffled: I'm sorry?
PoOE: Where are you?
Me: I'm sorry, who is this?
PoOE: It's your mother.
My thoughts: Doesn't sound quite like her, but it's possible ... and maybe she's calling from work or borrowing someone's phone?
Me: Uh, I'm at home?
PoOE: *long pause* Is this Leslie?
Me: No?
PoOE: Oh I guess I have the wrong number. *hangs up*
Me: ...........I need tea.

I'm sure there's a story behind that, and behind the very obvious irritation, but I'm kinda glad I'm not Leslie.

(ow)

Lifelining is a /pain/. Literally; knitting I can manage using long (13.5") dpns, but yarn needles are tiny in comparison. I wish I had one of the interchangable circular needle that you can lifeline by threading the dental-floss-or-whatever through the hole for the adjustment key. So much less tedious omg. (That, or a knitting needle with a hole drilled in it, or something.)

On the bright side, I am not only /past/ the point where I messed up before and had to frog back, but I have completed another repeat. Go me. \o/

I also figured out part of what was keeping my knitting slower than what I expected. I mean, I'm nowhere near close to being a fast knitter, but my progress was abysmal even for me. But it occurred to me today that every time my arm mobility changes significantly, I have to re-learn how to knit; not the theory behind it, but the actual muscle movements. And while you're learning you /go slow/.

Der.

But I also need to learn not to compare myself to other people, if only because they don't have to deal with the same limitations I do. The fact that I knit at all is amazing. And if I tell myself that enough, I might even believe it... :)