Le Weekend

Objects of lust wound into balls.

Yesterday was a fabulous zero day. I mean ZERO. Watched movies, SATC, and a bit of tv and knitted the shite out of my bolero. Should be done soon!

Today is shaping up to be slightly more than zero though I plan to go to the store in a few min and then sit right back down and knit some more. I got the swiffer. Here's some photos so you aren't wondering how that little broom thing is going to help me wind yarn.

How it works in concert with the winder.

Ta ta.

Project Ranking

I'M ON MY LUNCH BREAK. I hope it's ok to blog @ work on break.

Ok, I've added a fifth column to my rankings of projects. It indicates the ability to start the project immediately. A zero indicates that I would have to wait until god appears before me in human form asking for homemade brownies to start the project. A ten indicates that I could start the project immediately or that I am already working on the project.



The results of this new and improved analysis are: Finish bolero, do t-shirt, enjoy ruffly scarf, make socks out of objects of lust. Mom's scarf will move up after I get yarn from CA.

Toys and Dating

That sounds like a perverted title. Well, it is. Cause it's not about what you think. It's about knitting toys and a show I watched tonight. Come on, we've learned to expect less from me by now.

First dating. This show Hooking Up should be shown in sex ed class as a field guide to what women should not do if trying to find a boyfriend. Some items.

1. Who's Tom Ridge? If a guy living in New York doesn't know who the former director of Homeland Security is (and you do), you should get up and leave. No questions asked.
2. I went to a nudist colony with three women. No explination needed. Finish your beer and leave.
3. I am looking for a relationship, but don't think I can be physically satisfied by one woman. Leave. Just freakin leave.
4. No shagging. If he refers to sex as shagging, you have problems. Almost as bad as making love. Making love is BS and probably doesn't involve climaxing.
5. "I want a husband." Honey, you aren't going to find one that way. Men don't like that shit.
6. I am looking for the perfect man. No. Such. Thing. You have a fantasy of your perfect man/husband and spend all your time looking for it, you are never going to find him.
7. I don't want him to come back to my place, but I don't want to hurt his feelings. Really. Tell him to fodk off. It's called self esteem.
8. You lie about your job and your name for one whole date, he's gonna be pissed.

That's all I can think of right now. This show if filled with jems. These women are searching all over the internet for HIM. Capital H Capital I Capital M. No one I've know whose found him ever found him by looking for him. It's like when you can't remember someone's name. The best thing to do is think about other things while keeping the name you are looking for in the back of your mind. It may take a while, but you will remember.

But this online dating candy store is a problem. It's like there are too many free samples. Well, I really like guy X, but guy Y may be good, so I'm going to try him. or I've been seeing guy Z for two weeks, but he has habit A that bothers me, so I'm going to go out with guy Q cause maybe he doesn't have habit A. Oh, but guy Q is stricken with habit B so need a new one. Bad bad bad.

TOYS. MUCH MORE FUN! On the left is my counter. I use it to count rows. I love it. I hurry up to finish rows so that I can use it again. I'm in love with my counter. On the right is my needle gauge. I use it to make sure I am knitting with size 10 needles for my Mom's too short scarf.

Above is the object of my affection. Rolled into a neat ball. Below is my mess. About half this size it was when I started.

This is how I have decreased the size of my mess. Winding one end into a ball. Winding the other onto Ye Olde Toilet Paper Roll. Will be purchasing swiffer this weekend so to decrease frequency of messes.

Alone

So, I've been trying to get out of this rut I've been in since graduation last year (last May). The rut started in South Bend and has continued in Houston. All my friends moved away from South Bend; I stayed. Now I'm in Houston where I have no friends. Despite the valiant attempts I have made at meeting people. I have focused on three activities that will make me have more friends: 1) Stitch-n-Bitch 2) wine tastings 3) church. But (and this is what makes the rut utterly frustrating completely self-imposed) I always think of reasons not to do these things. Not going to Stitch-n-Bitch tonight because I couldn't sleep last night. And I'm tired. Hello, I'm 27; it's ok if I'm tired. But that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. Wine tastings I can normally get myself to and always have fun. Church. Well, I don't really, you know, believe in any of the church stuff. But it's a freakin' Unitarian church, so you don't have to believe in much of anything. Still, This American Life is on when church is, so I have trouble ripping my ass from the sofa and putting the knitting needles down.

Next week, I have to talk to my bosses about my future at the company. The only thing I've ever been certain of as far as the future is concerned is that I am going to be thin. The only thing I've ever wanted to be for more than 1 month is a New Yorker. I don't know how it's going to go...

Oh, and throwing a big wrench into my NYC plan is the fact that all my friends will soon be in Chicago. And, Chicago's great but it's not New York. And it's not my dream. But what is the point of starting over in New York when I can go to Chicago and have a life instantly with no tears, feeling lonely, and wondering if I will ever find someone I can talk to w/o making a long distance call. And then, I'm not all that unhappy here, so... I don't know.

And let me clarify that this New York dream is not some misplaced Carrie-Bradshaw-life lust because that's a fictional character in a fictional show (who bought an apartment in Manhattan for between 200 and 400 thousand dollars, which you just can't do). I don't for one second think that NY will transform me into a beautiful, sophisticated, enchanting, person with trendy clothes, millions of friends and great sex. I mean, I don't believe in spending as much money as it costs on trendy clothes (unless they are made by me out of fabulous yarn, but jeans... they should cost $60 a pair not a square inch). And millions of friends, I wouldn't remember all their names. And sex. I'm not going there. See bared soul rant.

New Toy

I bought a new toy tonight. Like so many things in life it didn't live up to its promise. Or I didn't live up to its potential. First use.

Liam, however, was stoked that Mommy couldn't figure out how to get the yarn to ball w/o letting it roll all over the floor.
















And this is why I should have bought a swiffer and will most likely do so tomorrow. I still love you Lorna's Laces despite your tangliness.

my blog. myself

I'm going to go on only a bit longer about this blog I read yesterday cause it really made me think. About myself. Shit not about life or anything deep. About myself. And my blog. And me. As a single woman in her late 20s, I am allowed to think about myself. In fact, I think it is one of the most important things I do, since later when I have kids and a husband, I won't be able to do it all the time. So I have to get it all out NOW. Leave me alone.

Anyway. I've always wanted to 1) view my life the way this blog was written and 2) be able to write/talk about my life that way. This sort of fluid, glamorous, witty way of relating things. Instead, I go for a more "this is funny, hit you with funny hammer, now laugh" type thing. So, most of yesterday, I was composing this fliud, glamorous, witty post in my mind in which I would reveal my deepest thoughts, secrets, hopes and dreams when I realized, I don't get off on that. I don't even want to know my deepest thoughts. And talking about them either bores the crap out of me or makes me cry. What I get off on is being a jerk, making fun of myself, Gwen Stephani or who ever else comes along and hopefully getting someone, anyone to laugh. Just a little. Or even get just a little eye roll. I find great satisfaction in being so stupid that a person can do nothing but roll their eyes and sigh. Cause I know deep down, they think I'm funny.

So dear, non-existent reader. You will not get a bared soul on this website. You will not know about traumatic events in my past because I don't even want to know about them. I mean, I don't even know you. Hell, you don't even exist. So if a bared soul is what you were hoping for, go don't read someone else's blog.

Some knitting stuff

I figured out a way to prioritize my projects and will publish that later today. And I got a new Interweave Knits that I am sort of ignoring so I don't completely go insane.

Anyway, my main point with this post is that my sock and I are taking some time off. I got to the heel flap and sort of lost it. The pattern was giving me something screwy. So, I tried something else I made up that was clearly no better. Now I have to unravel the work (which I hate hate hate cause I always lose stitches). So, we've taken a break. I hope it understands. It was really upset yesterday because I checked it instead of carrying it on the plane. It wouldn't have anything to do with me last night. Unraveling in public might not be a good move. Especially in an airport where I could be arrested for threatening national security when I throw a tantrum over multiple dropped stitches. It wasn't very understanding. It's still upset that I don't love it as much as the potential Lorna's Laces socks and that I didn't properly correct the dropped stitches in the ribbing. The sock is very needy.

The bolero is also quite upset. I've ignored it for way too long and it is threatening to be the wrong size when I've finished.

The Lamb's Pride yarn is also feeling neglected. It was a beautiful almost finished poncho and now is a barely started t-shirt. I'm sorry Lamb's pride. I do really want to knit you, but I have so many demanding projects.

Finally, my mom's scarf is not going to be long enough. I can feel it. I am running out of yarn. I went from 13 needles to 10s because it looked like crap on 13s, but it's just not going to be long enough. It's barely going to go around her neck (that's my mom's neck) much less drape beautifully.

PRESSURE.

Update: I just re-read an old post that said I am doing the project on 8s, but I was chewing on the needles all night last night and know that they were 10s. I have to check.

Grrrr... I growl

Sunday, instead of standing in the heat that god thrust upon Chicago (to punish us Lollapalooza sinners), I bought a New York Times and sat in Starbucks drinking water. Anu decided the punishing heat was ok for her (of course, i ran away before she could tell me she wanted to come with... needing some alone time). This is actually somewhat dramatic. So, I leave the concert because it's just too hot. I mean its hot and the music that's playing is crap and I want no part of it. So I leave and (I thought) backtracked my steps perfectly so I could find the Starbucks I so longed for. I couldn't find it. I walked around five blocks in this sort of Starbucks crazed state with my hair sticking up probably 1 foot from my head and my face this sort of sunset crimson color. After losing all hope, I was seriously considering sitting on the sidewalk and crying for my hurting feet, ugly hair and the fact that I am walking around in hell, when what do I see sitting on the corner of Jackson and State but a Starbucks. A beautiful, shining beacon of commercialization and the mini-malling of America. Ahhh Starbucks. If I knew how to compose an ode, I would do so to you and your airconditioning, barristas who give me large cups with ice free with my purchase of bottled water and your beautiful green corporate logo.

Ok, we get it.

So the point, I get inside buy my NYT and try to cool off. I get to this article about this blog that everyone loves and everyone reads and how the woman has a book deal, etc. Anyway, the article talks about how the blogger had to go to fat camp when she was young. I'm intrigued. My current physique is something I have a hard time dealing with and (for some reason) I believe that reading about an ex-fat person will make me feel better. So just about 5 min ago, I crack open this woman's blog and read a bit of it. I understand why she got a book deal. It's great writing, interesting stuff, funny, compelling. Much more honest than I am being here. So then she starts talking about how she still feels fat; like not that she thinks she's fat but that she forgets she's skinny. And I'm totally getting her. So then I look around the blog to see how fat she was. One of the facts about her is that she weighed 168.5 pounds and has since become skinny. And I close the blog. Seriously, if I knew how to write an ode, I would write one to 168.5 pounds.

And that's that.

Solution

I am going to approach this whole "too many knitting projects" issue the only way I know how: anal retentively.

So here are my choices:

1) Reggia Sock
2) Lorna's Lace Sock for me
3) Lorna's Lace Sock for mom
4) Bolero
5) t-shirt
6) clapotis
7) kitchen sink
8) mom's scarf
9) ruffly scarf

I will rate them on the following factors:

A) amount of time project will take (0 = forever, 10 = instantly finished)
B) usefulness of project (0 = wool sweater in houston, 10 = underwear)
C) satisfaction from creating something beautiful (0 = poop creation, 10 = jewel of the nile)
D) happiness of others generated from project (0 = they are less happy I've done it, 10 = they ask me to marry them due to the uncontainable joy they feel at receiving piece in question)

A couple of notes about the factors. First, I don't mind spending a lot of time on a project, but in terms of finishing obsessive list of projects, it will get my through more quickly. Second, the happiness of others thing is totally a symptom of my being co-dependent. Finally, usefulness is something I rarely consider but should. Really, will I need a wool/silk blend scarf in Houston in July (that will cost me $100 worth of yarn... i know i could substitute but i have an unhealthy obsession with this lorna lady)? No.

So, the decision is in, I will completely ignore this analysis and think of another, more clever way to determine which project to do (I gotta do my mom's scarf right away).

PHOTOS

Some knitting images...

Le French Market Bag (in Brown Sheep's Lambs Pride)

Scarf using Crystal Palace Party Yarn

Close up of party scarf

Reggia Sock... oh la la, stripes

Extreme Sock Close-up

Scarf for Mommy (yarn rolled onto toilet paper roll due to absense of ball winder chez moi)

Objects of Lust. Color on left for me. Color on right for Mom.

Sheesh... on the go...

The whole digital camera thing has not quite revolutionized my life in the way I thought it would. That's because I'm lazy as hell when I get home from work and don't feel like looking at a stupid computer anymore. I'm thinking tonight will be the night. And seriously, this blog will be a completely new blog. Totally revolutionized. And you, my non-existent reader, will not be alone anymore. People will flock to my blog in droves, and my wit will be featured in the blogging hall of fame, and my url will be www.homiquest.com as I will no longer be forced to associated with Blogger.

Sorry... just entered fantasy land.

Now, on to important things. Knitting. Yesterday I was not feeling at all well and was thinking I was over knitting. But I restarted my Mom's scarf (with some incredibly luscious and expensive rayon/cotton yarn that will be beautiful) and am feeling more into it. I got a pattern for said yarn at the yarn store in Oakland (Article Pract... if you are ever in the bay area, check it out). It said to use size 13 needles. I didn't have 13s, so tried with 11s and was quite disappointed in the way things were turning out. So, last night I started it on 8s and am quite happy. Photo will come once I remove my buttocks from the sofa and load photos.

I'm also in the middle of my sock. I have significantly slowed progress on the sock for a few reasons: 1) don't love the color 2) don't love the material (it's reggia sock yarn which feels itchy and I bought four skeins of Lorna's laces in oakland and want to start on that instead of finishing itchy, blah colored reggia sock) and 3) I am scared of the heel flap. and 4) I am scared of picking up stitches. Heel flap instructions have been very confusing to me. In one pattern, they say work x number of stitches but then only provide instructions for y number of stitches (where x>y). Then in another pattern, x>>y and it doesn't indicate any short rows. I'm going to look at a third pattern, but am convinced that it will only confuse me further and that I am just too stupid to make socks.

Finally, I swore that when I started knitting that I would not be like all those people who have multiple projects on needles at once. I am linear. I can't have too much on my plate. Or I freak out. Well, right now, I have on Reggia sock, on Interweave knits bolero, one Knitty t-shirt and one modified Article Pract scarf all on needles at the same time. I am freaking. Luckily, weather in Houston doesn't limit the amount of time bolero and t-shirt will be practical, so I can take my time. But what's up? I have at least 3 other projects to start (mom's lorna's lace socks, kitchen sink bag, ruffly scarf and clapotis... wait that's four... YOU SEE!!!).

Now a post script on my illness. Nothing serious dear reader, but I have yarnaholism, a not-so-serious but expensive disease. Last night as I prepared for bed, I threw two magazines on my bed, my anti-carpal tunnel braces, and my bag of Lorna's Laces so that I could oogle it before I went to bed. Some people have porn, I have beautiful, soft and oh-so-lovely yarn. I'm in trouble.

Needles on Planes

According to my newest bestest friend, the TSA (Transportation Safety Administration), I can bring my knitting needles on the airplane with me when I go to Oakland and Chicago!!! So, today, I am forced to purchase sock patterns, sock needles and sock yarn. I can't help it. There are some things one must do for ones art!!

In also very exciting news, I am purchasing a used digital camera from a man at work and will be able to post pictures of my cats, knitting and anything else that tickles my fancy!

I take a break from my normal drivel..

... to express my extreme sadness at the events in London today. My thoughts are with all the families who have lost loved ones.

Fight Club

As embarassing as it is, I am a completly addicted to All My Children, the ABC Soap Opera. I really didn't have much hope. My mother watched AMC while I was in the womb; I was doomed from the start. Anyway, I've been sorta patient with the soap lately as it flings around some pretty silly stories, but the latest one has really disturbed me. Anyway, a bunch of soap opera-y things happened (Ryan's brother shoots him, poisons his wife before blowing him self up, etc etc). Anywho, Ryan sorta lost it after this whole soap opera-y sequence and has been going to a fight club. My soap opera showed this fight club: bunch of guys fighting in a basement, on the cement floor, everyone standing around screaming, the first rule is you do not talk about fight club. But the scene was very soap-like in that the lighting, camera work, etc where things just look sorta cheap and unrealistic. This disturbs me because Fight Club is one of my most favorite movies, EVER. I've seriously watched it probably 40 times. That's more than 80 hours of my life. I can't begin to say how pissed I am that AMC even went there. I mean how dare they bastardize such a cool movie! I'm not sure what action I will take, if any.

Finally, if you, my non-existent reader, have not seen War of the Worlds yet, you must go see it immediately. Right now. Don't say, well, Tom Cruise is really a freak and I don't want to support him. Look, he's not playing himself in the movie, so get over it.