11.25.2008
11.17.2008
Knitted baby blanket with crocheted flowers.
I finally finished knitting the baby blanket for my ex-boss, who is due in January. I had collected money for materials from my co-workers before I got laid off. So since the money was all kicked in, I couldn't really just say "no" and keep the yarn the money purchased. Also, I like Jess, even though she's the person who had to lay me off.
At first working on it was just a prolonged reminder of losing a job that I trusted and even liked, but then it just became like any other project -- fun, and a constant struggle between what I want it to look like and the realities of my limited talent.
This is based on a pattern I read in Debbie Stoller's first Stitch 'n' Bitch, except I used worsted weight wool instead of sock yarn. There's a seed stitch border all around, and the middle is just four blocks of alternating stockinette and reverse stockinette. I think cast on about sixty stitches and just knit it until it looked like a good size, making sure the squares were about the same size.
I blocked in lukewarm water with a detergent that puts lanolin back into the fibers, making it softer the more you wash it. I did the stems of the flowers with a tapestry needle and green yarn, just a backstitch. The blossoms were crocheted separately then sewn on.
I'm pretty bummed that I can't be there when they give the blanket to Jess. I don't even know if I'll ever see or talk to her again. Oh well, I hope she enjoys the blanket because I really liked making it.
At first working on it was just a prolonged reminder of losing a job that I trusted and even liked, but then it just became like any other project -- fun, and a constant struggle between what I want it to look like and the realities of my limited talent.
This is based on a pattern I read in Debbie Stoller's first Stitch 'n' Bitch, except I used worsted weight wool instead of sock yarn. There's a seed stitch border all around, and the middle is just four blocks of alternating stockinette and reverse stockinette. I think cast on about sixty stitches and just knit it until it looked like a good size, making sure the squares were about the same size.
I blocked in lukewarm water with a detergent that puts lanolin back into the fibers, making it softer the more you wash it. I did the stems of the flowers with a tapestry needle and green yarn, just a backstitch. The blossoms were crocheted separately then sewn on.
I'm pretty bummed that I can't be there when they give the blanket to Jess. I don't even know if I'll ever see or talk to her again. Oh well, I hope she enjoys the blanket because I really liked making it.
11.16.2008
Why should I talk to people? I have Facebook.
My ex got married and I found out on Facebook. He wasn't a recent ex, and not even a really serious one, but still, the age-old stereotypical female responses welled up once I saw that status change: Why not me? Was I not good enough? What's wrong with me? How will I afford to feed the hundred cats I'll eventaully have when I'm a bitter, wizened, single recluse in a few years?
Thankfully, my feminist shoulder fairy quelled those questions, calmly reminding me that had my ex proposed then, now or anytime, I would have said no. That's why he's my ex.
This left me open to a few more interesting questions. For example, when viewing his wedding photos that he oh-so-classily posted on Facebook, I had to wonder ...
Did he always look so stupid? I don't remember him looking that stupid when we were togther. Will I too start looking stupider as I get older? That line of questiong always leads to something petty, usually said in a high-pitched, nasally voice, so we'll just leave it at that.
I switched yet again to a new questioning: If it wasn't for Facebook, would I give a damn if this dude got married? Would I even know? Why on earth am I cyber-friends with this guy anyway? Apparently, despite my constant efforts, Facebook has warped even my concept of friendship to transform pixels into a replacement for human relationships.
More often thant not, for me Facebook serves as a painful life comparison of loosely connected people. This comparison often leads to questions like the ones I raced through before. Why aren't I married? Why wasn't I invited to that party? How did my cousin get to grad school before I did? I like to think that this says a lot about Facebook, but it probably says way more about myself. If it wasn't for the "What Are You Reading" application, I'd give up the whole thing.
Thankfully, my feminist shoulder fairy quelled those questions, calmly reminding me that had my ex proposed then, now or anytime, I would have said no. That's why he's my ex.
This left me open to a few more interesting questions. For example, when viewing his wedding photos that he oh-so-classily posted on Facebook, I had to wonder ...
Did he always look so stupid? I don't remember him looking that stupid when we were togther. Will I too start looking stupider as I get older? That line of questiong always leads to something petty, usually said in a high-pitched, nasally voice, so we'll just leave it at that.
I switched yet again to a new questioning: If it wasn't for Facebook, would I give a damn if this dude got married? Would I even know? Why on earth am I cyber-friends with this guy anyway? Apparently, despite my constant efforts, Facebook has warped even my concept of friendship to transform pixels into a replacement for human relationships.
More often thant not, for me Facebook serves as a painful life comparison of loosely connected people. This comparison often leads to questions like the ones I raced through before. Why aren't I married? Why wasn't I invited to that party? How did my cousin get to grad school before I did? I like to think that this says a lot about Facebook, but it probably says way more about myself. If it wasn't for the "What Are You Reading" application, I'd give up the whole thing.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
