At 2:30am this morning, I put down my needles. My hands were about to fall off, my eyes were bulging out of my head and a blister had started to form on my tensioning finger. I finished two sleeves, knit the collar and started one of the two pocket linings. Why, oh why, didn’t I listen to my better judgment and leave out the damn pockets? It was downright hopeless. Lest, of course, I wanted to pull my first all-nighter since college and live the rest of my life without hands… I had to pack it in. I cradled my hands like they were precious little babies as I slept last night.
I dreamt that I was blocking the sweater. But I was doing it all wrong. I was putting my iron directly on the dry fabric of the sweater. I burned it completely. The smell was horrible. 8am came too soon and oh ya, I hadn’t packed yet.
My friend was really understanding about me not finishing the sweater. He has a back up Christmas gift for his mom and I breathed a sigh of relief. There’s nothing like disappointing someone. Nothing. Except maybe disappointing two someones. So here I am at the airport, working on another gift.
Well, I use the term “working” lightly. What I’m really doing is staring at this project, trying to will my hands to do something other than shake uncontrollably and cursing myself for packing projects that are all on size 4 needles or smaller. I apparently do not have any foresight whatsoever.
It’s December 21st, in case you were wondering, and I’m flying out tomorrow to visit my folks in Reno for the holidays. I’m halfway through both sleeves of this sweater, still need to knit the collar and pockets, sew on buttons, weave in ends and block the damn thing before a reasonable enough hour tonight so that I can maybe get a couple hours of sleep in some sad effort to reboot my system out of this insane I-can-knit-a-sweater-for-someone-else-before-christmas illness. In other words: I’ve exited the realm of sort of crazy and entered the realm of bat shit, there’s no turning back now, crazy. Madness.
Last night, as I was staying up way too late on account of my mental problems, I decided to try on the sweater, because jeezus, it looks huge. I immediately freaked out because the thing is down past my ass and I could probably fit another one of my arms through the sleeves. Panic set in because I need to give this to my friend in about 36 hours and there was no way I could fix any of these issues. Then I remembered that I’m 4’10” (4’11” on a good day) and of course this wasn’t going to fit me. Seriously, you’re looking at a genius right here.
I’m still slightly panicking today because what if it doesn’t fit her either? What if she hates it? What if this was the worst idea ever and oh my god, is that a dropped stitch?!!? If you know me, I’m pretty much freaking out all the time about stupid things. I know I do it and I know that it’s completely irrational. But I won’t stop freaking out until someone can prove to me through scientific reasoning (bonus points if you bust out polynomial equations) that I’m freaking out for no reason. So I headed to the yarn store where I work, hoping someone there with more experience knitting sweaters for average sized people would talk some sense into me. And they did. The sweater fit one of the women (of similar size to the recipient) there and so now here I am, eating a grilled cheese sandwich, click clacking on the keyboard, and talking myself up some big game, like I’m a hot shot. I know what’s up. I knew I had it in the bag the whole time. I’ve got aaaaaaall night to knit this puppy up. ha. ha. ha? gulp.
My mind is a scary place to be. If I weren’t me, I wouldn’t want to be. Contrariwise, since I am me, I spend most of my day freaking out. And because you aren’t me (even though I know you totally want to be), I’m letting you in on what’s been on my mind this last week (because I can tell you’re dying to know).
First to bat: why do Amy’s Cheddar Bunnies taste like band aids? And why did I spend money on something that made me think of licking dirty band aids while I was eating it? Does anyone else get this exquisite taste while eating their organic cheese friends? I think the most disturbing thing about this is that despite the taste, I ate it all.
Supposedly I’m dehydrated. I try to remind myself to drink water, but I forget. This is probably why I get dizzy when I work out with Jillian Michaels. Damn, that B is scary. She should put out a video that shows her just sitting in a chair drinking water and yelling at the camera. I would totally start drinking water then.
How many days until Christmas? Four?!? I should probably give up sleeping and start knitting instead, because these xmas gifts aren’t going to knit themselves. I can’t go into details about my current projects, but here’s a sneak peak into what I’m knitting:
I really wanted to see Black Swan this week, but I can’t knit in the dark. Is there such thing as glow-in-the-dark yarn? If not, I need to get on it. I also need to go to the gym, but I wonder if people will look at me funny if I start knitting on the exercise bike. I think knitting and cycling would go perfectly together. What could go wrong?
Yarn Over »
As we reach the end of the year, I’ve been seriously contemplating finding a real life wizard to turn me into a squirrel, because they don’t have to do anything but eat nuts and get fat. I eat nuts of the salted variety, but it’s not helping. Maybe I should go for the unsalted? [Insert gratuitous nut joke here.]
So, I clearly have not been a-blogging in a while and it’s mostly because I’ve run into a huge fucking wall of nuts, aka responsibility. I fucking hate that asshole, Responsibility. Such a jerk. He makes me go to my job to earn my keep and pay my bills, forces me to study so I can get a good grade in a class that probably won’t mean anything to me a month from now, chides me when I don’t clean the toilet, and highly encourages me to bathe in order to become an upstanding member of society. Fuck that guy. Some days, I want to call in sick, rip up my homework and sit in my own filth and disgust, eating Cap’n Crunch with chocolate syrup drizzled on top. Ya that sounds pretty awesome. Maybe I’ll get off my fat ass and knit something, maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll wash my hands after I go pee, maybe I won’t. And maybe I’ll give a shit…but most likely, I won’t. But I digress.
I think the point of my bah humbug rant is that I’m trying to get the [yarn] ball rolling during this very festive time of the year. I’m feeling a little overwhelmed and unaccomplished with only 2 weeks to go until Christmas. I mean, who is this Christmas anyways, and why does he insist on imposing all of his obligations and deadlines on me every year? I’m trying hard to be diligent about knitting gifts for people, but it just seems like the things that I like doing the least always seem to get in the way.
This year, everyone gets nuts.