It's Definate.

I was trying not to get my hopes up. About the Harlot on tour in NYC thing. I really was. But I secured the lettuce (also known as cashmoney - or chedda, depending what atrocious MTV fake-ality show you watch..) over the weekend and I will be in NYC March 22nd.

Let the excitementness explode. I am so thrilled that it may burst out of me, and therefore I needed to create a new word. So THERE Webster's. I also have secured a launching pad from which my little excursion will help ...launch me. Technically, I could drive or train it home. No big deal. Except my guestimation is that I will be completely exhausted and although driving or training is possible, I'd rather not.

The fantastic thing about spending the night in a north Jersey apartment is that mid morning Friday, I am tentatively planning a trip to Modern Yarn which is in Montclair. I've been there before, and I am the proud owner of a iKnit shirt.

Excuse me for a second while I bask in my awesomeness, because I had the shirt before it was cool, and it was officially cool in the Winter 06/07 issue of Vogue Knitting's Knit 1 magazine.





(basking....)





(still basking....)







(almost done)








Yeap, okay I'm over myself.

I've been thinking about being a total whackadoodle, what do they call them? Those slutty chicks who follow rock stars around the country. Perhaps it used to be done quite a few years ago. Before I was born. Which was slightly more than 20 years ago..

GROUPIES!

That's what they're called! Yes! So I was thinking about being a groupie minus the traveling part but I'm missing a key element to being a groupie. Are you ready for this?

BOOBS.

Really big boobs. They are (in my opinion) the quintessential thing to being a whackadoodle groupie. And poor Stephanie, would be the rock start in my creepy fantasy. I have to tell you, thanks to Sheila (Knitting By Moonlight)I'm hooked. I'm double pointed needled. I really truly enjoy the Harlot. If I remember long enough I'm going to throw one of her buttons on my site. I am, honestly, so impressed with her writing and her adventures. But I digress.

I have tiny boobs. They're visible enough to discern me from a boy. From the back I've got nice girl hair, so you'd know I'm not a boy. I don't know if boy's have asses like mine, either. Still digressing.. Boobs are tiny. Can't be a good whackadoodle-boob-signing-groupie with size A's. Even in a push up bra. Assuming I owned one. They're tiny.
I guess it depends what I wear, if its easily pull-down-able. The jury is still out, but I think they're leaning towards an acquittal.


I mean with the media supposed to be there... and a Sharpie marker? What would the muggles think? (What do the muggles think when a blonde bimbo with double DD's get her stuff signed by [insert creepy male author here] ? )

NYC, here I come!