Monday, February 27, 2006

Sorry to be so angsty. I'm not usually like that unless I'm under pressure.
Let me reiterate, though, that I do hate school.
I finished my research paper, but I am yet far, far away from resurfacing from the many projects which have been laid on me mercilessly these past couple weeks.

And, I assure you, I already have lots of things planned for after I resurface.

Amidst all my schoolwork (miraculously), I have worked up this little distraction:

The yarn is scratchy (100% wool, oh my! How uncharacteristic of the Bernat Queen).
And the tension is so uneven, despite how the picture tries to deceive you. Hah, actually, that picture is really nice. It shows the true color. Very flattering to the stitches. I might be getting better at this photography thing.

Anyway. I've been planning this sweater for a long time (sketches in my chemistry notebook date all the way back to January) and I'm really excited for how it will hopefully turn out. I'd rather not explain my mental picture because I like to grace the blog with surprises.
Feel anxious for me to get my schoolwork done. Now.

On another note, I am debating whether or not to knit my prom dress. Junior prom is two months away and, well, I think I'm going. My friends want me to, at least. It's going to be at the zoo.
::shrugs shoulders::
A knitted dress would be cool.

I want my circular needles back.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

I hate school. I hate school. I hate school.

But I started a new sweater.

Does anyone actually read this?

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

My grandma got me some yarn for Christmas. (Yes, I am aware that Christmas was two months ago, but I waited until I was actually putting the yarn into good use before I blogged about it.)
Anyway, this yarn is called Angel Hair, and it is every bit as luxurious as the title implies. So soft and fluffy! I'm not one to fall for anything that usually goes under the category of novelty yarns, least of all purple and pink balls of fluff wound into a skein-like object, but this is truly an exception. I mean, it's like knitting with a fucking purple chinchilla.
I'm also not one to whore out close-up pictures of yarn, but this, again, is an exception. It's such a luxury to work with. And it's gonna be a skirt.

If you were wondering, yes, I am aware of how bright, ridiculous, fluffy, and impractical this finished object will be. But I'll love it. Because who doesn't want a gigantic, purple, knit skirt?

Monday, February 20, 2006

I finished my stripey scarf, whom I have named Marvin for no distinct reason.
Here he is:

Sorry about the terrible image quality! My goodness, that is dark and ghastly!

On another note..
I wish Marvin could have been longer, but I ran out of yarn at approximately 6 1/2 feet. Luckily, this scarf has these magical stretching abilities. And when it isn't wrapped and just hangs off my neck, both ends fall to the tops of my knees, which is just lovely.
It's also quite warm, despite its thin width. I attribute this to the fact that it was made on size 3 needles! When's the last time you made a garter stitch scarf on a pair of 3's?

Thursday, February 09, 2006

I've been sick and home from school the past two days. I wish I could say that it's brought me more time to work on things more important than school (like knitting), but I regretfully admit that yesterday I spent the entire day sleeping, only getting up to see the doctor. On the bright side, I don't have mono, as I feared I would when my best friend caught the symptoms of it a few days after we'd been sharing chapstick (yikes!). Surprisingly, this is only a random minor sickness with coincidential timing.
Today, however, I was slightly more productive. I did finish the book I was reading (Naked by David Sedaris) and I started working on a cool hat.
I decided to do the color/cable work like this solely for the reason that I was thinking about cables in my half-sleeping state and realized that I'd never seen it before. And that, of course, is every reason I need to
proceed with something new and unknown. And while it is on straight needles (I know. A hat that requires seaming. Blech.), I have decided that for the look, it is totally worth one tiny seam. And excessive stranding on one side of the piece. And the frustration of not knowing how soon is too soon to decrease, and then ripping out three inches because it was still not big enough.
But it's okay.
The most recent roadblock on it, which prompted me to update this instead of continue knitting myself to sleep, was that I was trying (probably too hard) to wrestle one of the cable
twists into position when...
Ohhhh. That's not a sound a knitter likes to hear coming out of his or her work. At first I thought I'd broken one of my wooden needles, but it turned out to be a little better than that (or a little worse, depending on whether or not you value a quarter of a dowel rod higher than your in-progress piece).
I snapped the stitch. See?
I guess that's what I get for not using a cable needle. Maybe. Or I can just blame it on the yarn gods' contempt for me for treating my stitches too harshly. I guess every time I make a twist I just expect more elasticity out of my yarn than the stitches are willing to give, so I should have expected this retaliation for my heartless abuse.

I'll tie a knot in the back of the piece tomorrow and act like nothing happened. Because I am better at ignoring my flaws than getting too worked up over them.

Monday, February 06, 2006

I've reached a difficult point in my life, one in which I hesitate to admit that I have, in fact, lost my circular needles.

*gasp* *choke* *sob*

Yes, yes. It is very hard. You see, I know for a fact that I do own four pairs: sizes 7, 8, 9, and 10.
But when, on a cleaner day, one's bedroom looks like this:

locating just one object at a given time can be a consuming task.
(Okay, so it might not even look that bad from the picture, but be reminded that the area under the bed does not photograph well. This is not the worst of it; in the full spectrum this is really just your average corner.)

I have searched for those needles. I have torn my room apart--which is either an oxymoronic or redundant expression to make knowing my room--I do not quite know which.
They are not under a pile of clothes by the door. They are not in the box of knitting stuff. They are not on my nightstand. They are not on the bookshelf, behind it, or underneath the pile in front of it. They are not in the pile of fabric and tangled yarn in front of my closet. They are not under my bed. They are not in my box of sheet music. They are not in the pile of clothes next to my bed, alongside the lamp, or surrounding my cello stand. They are not in my cello bag, backpack, or the bag of stuff I never unpacked from Christmas. They are not in the box of fabric paint, box of felt, or random cardboard box where one might find a high heeled shoe and a marzipan pig.

This is the point where I agree to submit my obstinance to the notion that maybe they really are lost. All four pairs. Now it is time for me to make a plan for how I might go about living my life without them, for which I do not know if I am ready yet. A ceremony? A sculptured monument in their honor?

No one else understands.

Make way for Ice Cream Hat the Second:

Sorry that picture happens to be so icky. The focus should be on the hat, not the cruddy shower curtain or the scary ass facial contortion.
This one is much taller than Ice Cream Hat the First, which I like. But it's also skinner, which I'm not sure about. Prepare for a third, for there shall be pattern perfections in a final ice cream hat.
Note on the cherry--I like it a lot, but I'm afraid it makes it look too much like a cupcake and not enough like soft serve. So, maybe for the last one, chocolate vanilla swirl? Ponder with me, now.