How to drive someone crazy from 1100 miles away

29 April 2007

Where the heck am I living?

It has occurred to me on several occasions over the past few years that I do not want to die in Florida. I just don't want to live here forever, and my reasonings are varied and sundry.

  1. Once, I went to San Francisco to visit a dear friend I am sad to say I am no longer in contact with. He had moved from San Francisco to Orlando and then back again. Two things memorable about that trip: firstly, he seemed so happy. Read: so much happier than when he lived in Florida. I inquired as to the why, and he said "Because Orlando has no soul... and it wanted mine." Hmm. Second, he took me to a party and introduced me to several Bay Area folk as his friend from Orlando. Every single one of them asked if I was planning to move out to the west coast, and when I said no, they looked at me as if to say "Awwwww. Poor little girl with no soul. Someday, if she wishes really, really hard, she may become real like the Velveteen Rabbit."
  2. I went to Rhinebeck. I told every knitter, spinner, sheep herder, vendor, dyer, and blogger that I was from Florida. I was met 4 times out of 5 (and no, I did not only meet 5 people, it's a ratio) with a response that sounded a lot like "They have knitters in Florida?"
  3. Nothing cool ever happens here. Yarn Harlot isn't planning to come even as far south as Atlanta, and man, that's a long drive in itself. And that crazy girl is going to freaking ALASKA! There are no fiber festivals, there are only two (two!) yarn shops in this whole city, no knit-ins, and I am only detailing what I can't get here as a knitter. My cable sucks (there is good cable in Orlando, I just don't have it), the downtown scene kinda blows (you always have a good time, but you always have the same good time ), local music is pretty decent but the really good touring shows usually seem to end up in Tampa. Restaurants are mostly corporate chains with a nice handful of diamonds in the rough. The art scene leaves something to be desired. We do have the MegaCon and the Enzian, though. Can't touch that.
  4. Bugs and lizards. Yuck and OMG-double-yuck. I have a weird, tiny little gross-out every time I see one of the tiny lizards that run all over the sidewalks, and there are bugs everyfreakingwhere here. Especially bugs that can give you brain swelling (encephalitis is carried by mosquitoes) and giant, poodle-eating lizards in most lakes. Don't get me started about frogs. Oh, how I am shuddering right now, just thinking about the creepy little frogs.
  5. It's holy-God hot here. I swear, even my corpse would sweat. Wool is just less than useful, and try talking your boyfriend into wanting a Fair Isle sweater in ninety degree heat.
  6. Oh, yeah, hurricane season is on the way. Squee!

So, for crying out loud, people, send Florida some happy thoughts and some fiber-related items of interest, like a knitting book author or a sheep dog trial or something. Maybe I am just kicking myself for not going to Thursday night knitting for I can't remember how long anymore. Maybe it's time to consider packing up and getting a move on. Maybe I should quit my whining and go to bed.


26 April 2007

Busy girl.

Yoshi and I are all moved in to the new place. It's just the two of us now, and as much as I enjoy not having to share my space with anyone else anymore, I must admit, it is getting a bit lonely. He and I are working some opposite schedules right now, so there has been a lot of time for me to sort of commune with my new space. And I did it by buying lots of yarn online. I warned him; the stash fit into only one box, and that is just unacceptable.

WEBS is having an awesome sale. Need I say more?

There are needles, a pattern book, and a giant pile of yarn winging my way this very minute. This is what I did today rather than re-organize the bookshelves.

Here's a question: How is it that when Yoshi and I packed all the books, they all came off the shelves they fit onto, but when we unpacked the books, it turns out we need an entire extra shelf? I mean, a six foot by two and a half foot whole extra shelf. Not three extra feet of shelf, but a freaking bookcase of shelfspace. What's more, we both went through our books and donated about six cubic feet worth of books to the library, in the interest of keeping knowledge and entertainment in rotation. What the hell, man? This is in total defiance of all the laws of physics.

Yeah, no knitting pictures. Don't worry, they're coming.

12 April 2007

Wow. Not since March 20? Where have I been?

I'll tell you where; I've been working and trying to coordinate my move. Yoshi and I are finally getting out of the Giant House of Crazy and into our own apartment (population: 2!). I've been trying to separate two households from one, and right now, my living room looks like a cardboard bomb went off in it. Most fun? Packing up the stash. I realized it all fit into one box with a little room to spare, so I let Yoshi know that there will be some serious stash enhancement in our near future. His only request was that I order online and have stuff shipped to the new address, so we don't have to move anything more. I think he didn't understand the part about the "room to spare" in the box...

Knitting? Well, yeah, a little. I made this giant green shrug-thing. It's completely awkward and I love every stitch of it. The Mel Clark/Tracey Ullman book (Knit 2 Together) has two patterns for shrugs in it, and I have bastardized them both into this bulky thing to keep the air conditioning off me while sitting and knitting. I have resolved to finish the first sleeve today and pick up the stitches for the second one. I am slowly beating it into submission, and you might say the thing looks like a chunky nightmare, but it's exactly what I set out to make, believe it or not. Here's what I did:

Measure yourself with arms extended from mid-bicep to mid-bicep. Knit a gauge swatch. Cast on enough stitches to cover that length. Knit stockinette until the length is slightly more than half the width; bind off. Do a little knitting origami; fold the thing in half the long way, and seam up the sides about halfway, so what you have is like an envelope with holes in the corners, and the cast-on and bind-off edges are exposed. Pick up a pile of stitches from the cast on and bound off edges, and work a little ribbing in the round to tighten things up; I started with K2P1 rib and then decreased to K1P1, just to achieve a little fit. Three inches did the trick for me. Then, where those little holes are in the sides, pick up some stitches and work them in the round until the sleeves are as long as you like. Again, I am starting with K2P1 rib and decreasing down to K1P1, so the cuffs are a bit tighter than the sleeves. Put the whole awkward thing on your shoulders and ignore your roommates who keep asking "is it supposed to look like that?", because it is.

I am a by-the-seat-of-my-pants knitter, can you tell? When I first read Mason-Dixon Knitting, I was so enamored of the cover which read something like "celebrating the give 'em hell attitude of just picking up some sticks and making stuff." (Sorry, not a direct quote; the book is packed.) I'l post a picture (hopefully) later today, when I finish the first sleeve, so maybe the craptastic directions I gave you will make a little more sense.

Anyway, I miss you, bloglanders. I'll talk at you again soon after the dust settles.

Ah, one more thing. For Cygknit. I am so sad about Juniper. I'll never hear the Dreidel Song without thinking Senor Pantalones. I hope you are doing okay.