Purple Pens

I’m offering this meme today since I’ve got nothing else of value to offer. My second Pomatomus sock is limping along. I suppose that’s better than giving you a visual of it flopping around on the floor like a fish out of water. It seems that the second time around I am a dunce and for every row I knit – 3 to 5 get frogged. Seriously depressing!

The rules are that you should write a pangram on a piece of paper, sign your first name, take a photo of it and load it onto your blog, or upload into the flickr pool.

Here is a sample of my pathetic handwriting. It really isn’t very good and never has been. You have no idea how many post-its landed in the circular file as I created this inoffensive handwriting sample.

In elementary and high school I hated my handwriting so much that when other people went to the blackboard I would check out their handwriting for more pleasing elements to incorporate into my own. It was just as pathetic as it sounds but I really envied the girls with the big bubbly letters. It just seemed like happy handwriting. I’m ok with my handwriting now although I’m not sure it says as much about me as it does about all the people who originally belonged to the “th”, “s”, “y” etc.

One quirky thing that you may or may not have noticed is the purple ink - I almost always use purple pens. At work, at home – it doesn’t matter. I have a reason for this. Black is terribly stark, serious and severe. Ick! Blue is nice but incredibly common. I’ve seen pink and green but they’re too silly for everyday use. Purple is a compromise of the best sort. It’s a little unusual and can stand out but not so much that it seems childish. It’s also a very cool color. Yeah - I’ll admit that I’ve given this, like umbrella colors, way too much thought.

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By the way, I really enjoyed all of the comments yesterday. If you weren’t all “anonymous” then I’d reply directly. Apparently the “r” in warshrag and warshington is something that has no geographical limitations. I’d still love to know what’s up with that. It reminds me of a girl I grew up with who always had the same request of new people she met from other states or countries – “Say washer and dryer”. She thought those two words would somehow display and accent well. It seemed odd then but maybe she was on to something. It’s a little ironic considering that we grew up on Lawn Guyland – home of one of the worst accents ever.

Did you see Kristi’s new home? Check her out here.