Tuesday, July 13, 2004
The most KICK-ASS gauge swatch in the world.
Quilter meets knitter. It's a problem. A quilter spends months, perhaps years, on a piece. I've been working on a hand-pieced, hand-quilted lap quilt for four years. I had interruptions, I'll admit, but even the pros take a long time on some pieces. It gives what you're working on an inherent sense of value. I remember stitching those squares on the plane to Scotland. I remember my senior year sewing all of the squares together. The search for the border fabric. Knitting doesn't seem to have that same appeal sometimes. While you do spend time choosing the yarn, making the stitches, the bind off of a scarf doesn't have the same appeal as binding a quilt together. It's more instant gratification. Ba da bing -- instant neckwear! There's more care in executing a bigger project, and sometimes I think I enjoy that planning and anticipation more than finishing anything!
So there's my defense for finding this pattern and being SO inspired at the prospect of starting a project that won't be done for YEARS that I've abandoned all thoughts of babies being born at the end of August, all thoughts of a cold Chicago winter that will require warm socks, hats and minutes, all thoughts of Christmas gifts pending and bookbags that are going to require miles and miles of size three garter stitch.
Actually, Knitty.com is a great knitting mag all the way around. The patterns are modern (and free!), no grandma afghans. The articles have a razor sharp wit. Simply click on the patterns menu at the top of the page to check out this issue's patterns. Yeowza. The other issues are tamer than this one, I swear. Don't think less of the seminarian. :-) Priests are people too! 302 Calories is worth checking out, just for the description of HOW to knit the thing.
I found the required Halcyon cotton online, bought a SWATCH CARD (!!!) so that I could figure out exactly what color I wanted, asked Justin to close his eyes and picture me in clothing and asked him the color ("red...like, flag red") and ordered. Actually, it's deeper and darker than "flag red." It's one of those great colors that looks burgundy next to purple and rust next to red. It's yummy. Six cones of the stuff arrived three days ago. I also had to order new needles because WHO NEEDS 36" circulars in sizes 2 & 3??? The answer, I do. Desperately...RIGHT NOW. This is like planning the landing on Omaha beach for me and I'm loving EVERY minute of it.
So last night I had the yarn but no needles. My size 2 dpn's were occupied with the second of my blue socks. My size 3 straight needles were stuck on Fatigue. What was a girl to do? You'd think that this would suggest to a normal knitter, "Perhaps I should finish one of these projects before I start a test swatch. There's no need to hurry." And that's exactly what I did...
until my will power died 10 minutes later. Fatigue is now off the needles (dum dum dum) and crammed onto a tiny stitch holder that looks like an oversized safety pin. Guilt is fleeting in the absolute beauty of the swatch, however.I don't know if you can fully appreciate its magnificence. I looked at the pattern and thought "there is no way in hell that this is going to come out right!" The pattern promises that the yarn feels luxurious and slinky against your skin. I concur. I couldn't help rubbing the swatch on my cheek. It's silky, smooth, oh it's just wonderful. You remember those SAK purses? It feels exactly like one of those...only smoother in the stockinette stitch.
Here's a close up.
I'm just so excited that this complicated fan pattern worked! You can see on the wider shot how the border waves when bound off.
The fact that I even did a swatch must demonstrate my dedication to this project. I want this one to come out right. I don't want to fudge anything. Granted, I want it to be shorter, and the chest is probably going to have to be bigger and um...just cover more area in general. It may even require short rows. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes, take it to 80 million yarn shops if I have to. Deal with those obnoxious yarn snobs who will look at me perplexed, pat me on the head and say, "don't you want to try another scarf? a tank? a smaller sweater? and what happened to those three baby blankets you were in here about 2 months ago, how are those shaping up?" "Shut up." I will say with confidence. "How darest thou point out all of my unfinished stuff! Thou callest thouself a fibre artist?"
Someone who is less rude but just as curious may ask the following questions, "When are you going to use it?" I plead the fifth. Actually, I simply don't know at this point. It's going to be knit for my hopeful goal weight size...so I may never wear it. "Why are you knitting it?" Haven't we covered that? It's gorgeously feminine and I own nothing like it. It's there. It's something special. It's something to look forward to.
Mea Culpa: (if you don't like wallowing, skip this)
I apologize for not posting for so long. I realized early this week that I have very little time for some reason and am trying to figure out ways to gain more for myself. The current weight is 144.6. I think that means I'm down like 10 since the last time I posted. On my way. :-) Thank you all for staying tuned and seeing the same damn entry up every day for the past month. I'm going to be sporadic at best, but I'm getting quicker with the images. Things may also get more introspective, as the last entry is. Sometimes I just need to get stuff off my chest and typing is quicker than writing at this point.
Thursday, July 8, 2004
Adulthood-a deeply Spiritually Marxist perspective
Life sucks. A lot. I don't know what it was, but this morning I woke up crying at like 5:30 in the morning. I had this dream that I was in the religious studies department at Kenyon, that I was a young, hip college student. I was asked for a class to pick a favorite hymn or Christian song and come in and sing it. So, in this dream I picked the song that I'm singing with Dad in real life this Sunday. I really love the song's meaning, I hate singing it with Dad. Sorry Dad, love ya and all, but you have no feel for this music. Your harmonies make it sound old fashioned. The emotion gets lost in desiring it to be technically harmonious. It's not about getting every note right or everything on the exact beat. It's about being sincere about the song. And you don't sound sincere. Whoa, where did that come from?
So yeah, I come back from singing this song in the dream and I see that my car has had a major accident in which it has been rear-ended by a wedge shaped object. My back bumper and trunk look like a V. After a lot of detective work, I discover that this is because my keyless entry wasn't working (also true in real life) and some idiot frat fucks in my class took the damn thing out for a joy ride while drunk.
At this point, I wake up, I think. For some reason MISSING my college experience, PINING for that time when I had no obligations but to personal improvement and growth. There's the thesis right there. In adulthood, there is not one single day in which you have no obligations other than to your OWN personal growth and development.
My car is broken...little things in the large scheme. It goes forwards and backwards, stops, starts again. All the things it's designed to do. But the new sound system is broken, the dome light no longer turns on when the door opens and the keyless entry doesn't work. My car sat on a street in Swissvale last night for FOUR HOURS with my MP3 player loosely out of sight with the doors UNLOCKED for Cripe's sake (Cripe is Jesus' 2nd cousin)!!! So, now I have to find time on Saturday (because I'm obligated to work for 11 hours a day, M-F and for some reason...these shop keepers AREN'T!!!) to get these damn problems fixed.
THEN I'm obligated to Justin, to spend time with him. Granted, this is fun, this is something I want to do. I don't want you thinking for a moment that I'm sick of spending time with my boyfriend, I love him very much and we've had this trip to the Strip District in our minds for YEARS and had it scheduled for WEEKS (ok, 2) but the point is that I'm DEDICATED to the point of being OBLIGATED to go.
To be obligated to something/one means that you experience GUILT when you don't do it/spend time with them. I'd like to be able to tell you that obligate and guilt are related somehow in greek or hebrew or sanskrit, but I can't, so we soldier on.
I desperately needed a day off today. I have a strong need to spend a day on myself, whether because of my dream or the stresses in my life reflected in my dream, I needed some alone time. And I mean off in the mountains, not a soul around ALONE time. But I felt OBLIGATED, because of the four day week and the paycheck to go to work. Here's where Marx comes in.
The only thing I get for going to work is a paycheck...and that paycheck only covers 7.5 hours of actually doing stuff for the company. It doesn't include the 3.5 hours of getting presentable for work, driving to/from work, and getting sustenance. All NECESSARY stuff for doing a proper job for those 7.5 paid hours. But that's not really what I'm complaining about. It's the fact that all I get is that money with which to buy stuff. Little pieces of artwork with white guys on it declare my worth to the world. I get no personal improvement from sending out past due notices some attorney's clients. I'm not growing as a person when I research internet options for my workplace. All I'm getting is that $350 bucks a week (after taxes) to spend on THINGS. Because there's no time to spend it on stuff like a yoga class or a weekend spiritual retreat. There's no time after the 11 hours to meditate on a verse of scripture.
For Marx, your work was not something you did as a means of gaining property. For Marx, work defines who a person is. Think about it, is who you really are your work, or the stuff you have or the stuff you do in the 4 hours a day between work and bed and Saturday and Sunday. I put nothing of myself into what I do here at my desk for 8 hours a day.
WHY? Because not only am I obligated to my workplace, I'm obligated to EVERYONE else in the world. This is a particular pitfall for those of the pastorly persuasion. It's engrained in Christian doctrine (a part I actually AGREE WITH) to put yourself last. "In order to have true JOY, remember Jesus, Others, Yourself...JOY!" My ass. "Lord, take my life. I deny it. When I lose myself I find you." Ok, maybe I'm just in a bad mood. I got satisfaction and personal growth after helping others. But right now I'm not obligated to help others, I'm feeling obligated to...I don't know...just TO others. I'm obligated to clean the upstairs (not a biggie right now), I'm obligated to spend time with Justin, I'm obligated to visit friends who might be getting lonely. I'm obligated to do praise team -- which(see above) is not something I'm particularly enjoying because I'm not getting any time to be ALONE, otherwise I'd be loving it.
My weekend is already gone and it's not Friday yet. Friday night I'm obligated to spend time with Justin because...it's Friday night. Saturday, I have to get my car fixed, obligated to go to Strip District, obligated to go to Praise Team at 4, obligated to spend time with Justin afterwards.
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