This is what happens to middle-aged women. Yesterday, Dish bundled up and went out into the cold, in search of needles. Only one hour and TG wouldn't notice my absence, would he? No one had to know. I'd gotten rid of several bags of unused yarn before his arrival in December, donating it to charity (Madame T). After frantic darting over to Sixth Avenue, I entered the hot spot, mesmerized by walls of yarn. My instinct was to grab a basket and load it with random skeins. If you don't know what a skein is, you're safe. I resisted utter wildness and only purchased 4 skeins of baby yarn (for no one, I just had to have it, okay?) at $4.99 and the needles. Don't judge me. It's my crack. Speaking of drugs, what a surprise: Brittany Murphy's death ruled an accident from pneumonia, anemia, and multiple drugs (so far they just listed cough syrup and cramp meds). Casey Johnson also died of natural causes, i.e. diabetes (though her lifestyle didn't help!).
No judging! So glad I can't smoke, snort or shoot yarn into my veins.
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