One of the reasons I enjoy knitting so much is related to it's predictability. You sit down to a pattern, you use your experience and knowledge to select a fiber, you follow the instructions... And you usually get an expected result.
This process can't be used with people, with relationships. People are so much more complex than even the most tricksy lace or fair isle patterns.
Sometimes it is comforting to retreat to the reliability of instructions. Rather than face the convolutions of personal change--the difficult emotions, the mountain of tasks leading toward one's dream--it might be easier to hide out in more orderly territory.
In other news, studying is not progressing as I'd like, but my hoodie is almost done.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Friday, August 21, 2009
New woolie, rounding the last lap
Awhile back, during the years of mighty stashing efforts, I found this great yarn really cheap somewhere. It is called "Four Seasons" and it is mostly wool with little flecks of angora and polyamide. I bought up what was left of three colors: a dark chocolate brown (with orange and white tweed), a milk chocolate (with blue and tan tweed), and a denim blue (with orange and brown tweed).
I used to be so large that there wasn't enough of any one color in my stash for me to make a whole sweater, so I thought about stripes or contrasting trims and just sat on the yarn (as one is wont to do with stash yarns).
Well, that is no longer the case!
Chic Knits "Basic Chic Hoodie" in dark chocolate
The hoodie was born from my failed fitted vest. After I rounded up all of the stray balls, I did some maths and realized I had more than enough for this sweater. The lines of the design go well with the versatile tweed--it will go great with everything.
I still have one pocket to finish, the hood, and the button bands. And even though there is no way this sweater is geographically appropriate, I will definitely be wearing it as much as I can!
I used to be so large that there wasn't enough of any one color in my stash for me to make a whole sweater, so I thought about stripes or contrasting trims and just sat on the yarn (as one is wont to do with stash yarns).
Well, that is no longer the case!
Chic Knits "Basic Chic Hoodie" in dark chocolate
The hoodie was born from my failed fitted vest. After I rounded up all of the stray balls, I did some maths and realized I had more than enough for this sweater. The lines of the design go well with the versatile tweed--it will go great with everything.
I still have one pocket to finish, the hood, and the button bands. And even though there is no way this sweater is geographically appropriate, I will definitely be wearing it as much as I can!
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
An endless parade of socks, or a post that doesn't mention health care reform even once...
OK, maybe once, in the title only. We shall not speak of it here otherwise.
SOCKS.
I have been knitting a lot of socks these days... For myself and others. Socks are nice small bites of knitting that don't make me feel overheated here in the oppressive desert.
Trekking, for me...
Lifestyles (the yarn, not the condom) for my friend, V
Some ribbed Koigu for my friend, F
I also finally finished my Clapotis, but have no pics except of it blocking:
It has a very sexy halo. Brooks Duet.
In other news, I have been receiving rejection slips from publishers and trying to keep a stiff upper lip. I will take the GRE in three weeks and then start my school applications. Also, I am 6.6 lbs away from my goal and I dyed my hair red. Feeling a little discombobulated out here in the sand and sun. Send cool and good thoughts.
SOCKS.
I have been knitting a lot of socks these days... For myself and others. Socks are nice small bites of knitting that don't make me feel overheated here in the oppressive desert.
Trekking, for me...
Lifestyles (the yarn, not the condom) for my friend, V
Some ribbed Koigu for my friend, F
I also finally finished my Clapotis, but have no pics except of it blocking:
It has a very sexy halo. Brooks Duet.
In other news, I have been receiving rejection slips from publishers and trying to keep a stiff upper lip. I will take the GRE in three weeks and then start my school applications. Also, I am 6.6 lbs away from my goal and I dyed my hair red. Feeling a little discombobulated out here in the sand and sun. Send cool and good thoughts.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
T-minus 4 days
I'm sitting at a bar, having a beer, and trying not to explode from moving stress. These men in my life are so frustrated at my need for attention and affection right now: I should be focusing on the move, not them. Anyone else out there think this is one of those boy vs girl things? Right now is when I need kind words and a strong shoulder to lean on the most!
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Press restart... and then go
A year ago, I got canned from this pretty good gig (I know that if you are one of my two readers, you already know a lot of this stuff, but bear with me--I'm trying for a flow).
It wasn't the best job in the world, but I felt like I had it pretty good for a cube-dweller. The company seemed to have ideals, and to care about me. I got to travel, and they paid for my Blackberry. I had medical and dental and a 401k.
And then, whoosh!
It is amazing how quickly one can have one's suppositions turned on their little (suppository?) heads: the proverbial eye blinked and I was in the unemployment line. I beat the rush, for whatever good it did me. And I freaked out for a bit.
School helped. I studied rocks for some stability and grounding and wrote to get all that stuff that was in out. I drank too much. Overindulged. Flew around the country for a bit, pretending it was just a long vacation.
I really wanted to want that life back. But I just couldn't bring myself to do it, you know? After the rug is pulled out like that, you start thinking... who needs rugs?
But the not-wanting is not so much of a plan. The not knowing what comes next is bad for my digestion, sleep-cycle, and love life (such that any of those things are). So I started thinking on a plan, a crazy plan. To not go back to that life at all. To instead, go to the life I really wanted: to create, for the majority of my living.
It is fortunate, I feel the need to insert at this point, that back then I did NOT have my heart set on being a ballerina.
Anyway, it was time for some teeth gnashing, trail wandering, hours of hot yoga (that's the unemployed and short attention span afflicted version of soul searching).
The current plan is to go to grad school, get a terminal degree and then teach part time to support my writing habit.
To go back to school and get my MFA, I need to get accepted to a well funded program and get my ass out of debt--in that order. So, on Saturday morning, all of my earthly belongings will head West for Phoenix, AZ. My parents live there and want me to come hang out for a bit, get my finances straight and my applications in the mail. I can't really say that I am excited about Phoenix in the summer... but it is to a good end. So I am going to try to keep the bitching to a minimum.
I hereby make two of my three wishes:
1.) For the health, wealth, and happiness of those I hold dear to continue on for at least as long as I do; and
2.) To get into a fully-funded creative writing MFA program for Fall 2010
It wasn't the best job in the world, but I felt like I had it pretty good for a cube-dweller. The company seemed to have ideals, and to care about me. I got to travel, and they paid for my Blackberry. I had medical and dental and a 401k.
And then, whoosh!
It is amazing how quickly one can have one's suppositions turned on their little (suppository?) heads: the proverbial eye blinked and I was in the unemployment line. I beat the rush, for whatever good it did me. And I freaked out for a bit.
School helped. I studied rocks for some stability and grounding and wrote to get all that stuff that was in out. I drank too much. Overindulged. Flew around the country for a bit, pretending it was just a long vacation.
I really wanted to want that life back. But I just couldn't bring myself to do it, you know? After the rug is pulled out like that, you start thinking... who needs rugs?
But the not-wanting is not so much of a plan. The not knowing what comes next is bad for my digestion, sleep-cycle, and love life (such that any of those things are). So I started thinking on a plan, a crazy plan. To not go back to that life at all. To instead, go to the life I really wanted: to create, for the majority of my living.
It is fortunate, I feel the need to insert at this point, that back then I did NOT have my heart set on being a ballerina.
Anyway, it was time for some teeth gnashing, trail wandering, hours of hot yoga (that's the unemployed and short attention span afflicted version of soul searching).
The current plan is to go to grad school, get a terminal degree and then teach part time to support my writing habit.
To go back to school and get my MFA, I need to get accepted to a well funded program and get my ass out of debt--in that order. So, on Saturday morning, all of my earthly belongings will head West for Phoenix, AZ. My parents live there and want me to come hang out for a bit, get my finances straight and my applications in the mail. I can't really say that I am excited about Phoenix in the summer... but it is to a good end. So I am going to try to keep the bitching to a minimum.
I hereby make two of my three wishes:
1.) For the health, wealth, and happiness of those I hold dear to continue on for at least as long as I do; and
2.) To get into a fully-funded creative writing MFA program for Fall 2010
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