A sense of direction

After a night out with my dad on Tuesday I have finally realised where I get my obsession with directions, maps and knowing where I am going from. I absolutely hate it if someone else is in control of the directions. I hate surprises when I don't have a clue where I am being taken. If I am going on holiday I am not happy until I have a map. It turns out my dad is the same!
He came down from Wolverhampton on Tuesday evening as he had won some tickets on Capital Gold to see his most favourite band ever, The Hollies, play at Cafe du Paris just off Leicester square. Mom hates London so didn't want to come which meant I got to go. Horay! They were the band I always listened to as a child, as my dad had their records on constantly. We met up in Leicester Square, he had been there for a while even though I was 10 mins early. He had already been to find the venue (this is just the sort of thing I would do). After the concert, which was really good in a tiny little venue, I said we should walk upto Oxford Circus as Dad needed to get the central line. Obviously I knew where we were going, but he insisted on looking at his map! Then I took him on a little detour up Carnaby street, and he insisted on looking at his map again. I know if it was the other way around I would have been itching to see a map to get my bearings. Like father like daughter eh?
Anyway, on the knitting front nothing has been done since Monday morning. Here is the sock so far... hopefully I will manage to finish at least one on holiday!
I have also decided that if I can find some brown tweedy like wool I would like to make a tank top.
I was thinking lots of ribbing at the bottom and big v neck. Needs some more thought.