NOTE: Expletives and un-ladylike language ahead. Tell the children to visit another blog tonight.
If you’re a regular reader of this blog, you know I’m kind of a cynic/realist. This is what happens when my cynicism reaches its full potential and I learn a lot about myself in a short period of time. I attempted funny, I giggled while reading. Hopefully you will to.
Usually I’d be gung-ho for Christmas and for knitting for my friends and family for the holiday get-togethers.
Not this year.
I’ve come to realize that I find a sick pleasure from spreading myself too thin and then bitching about it when things don’t go to plan because I essentially
plan them to go to shit wait until the last minute to knit things procrastinate. On the other hand, I also get a pleasure from seeing other people light up from the things I do for them. I feel like I’m justified from spending so much time on something when I see them light up and try on their knits and it’s like a tiny little hug from me whenever they put this knitted item on.
I have approximately 5 days to knit four more fingerless mitts and six toppers for them. These three pairs of convertible mittens will have to be done as soon as possible when it’s seemingly impossible to do so. One pair will be done by the time we leave for the party, another will probably have the needles in the thumbs because I finished them in the car ride to the party and a third will have the needles in the body of the mitten itself and will have to be deferred until after I get back from the holidays. All ends have to be woven in and they should be blocked but I’m choosing to refrain from doing so because I don’t have that kind of time.
Didn’t I start talking about Christmas knitting in July? Why is it December 13 and I’m furiously knitting away on presents I should have started last year? This is the fate of knitters everywhere, I’m sure.
Yes, I’m in one of those moods today. I’m choosing to blame the full moon and my unfortunate string of bad luck with dating as of late.
So last night, after getting really crappy news about this guy I really liked, I cast on a red scarf for myself on size 8 needles. This simple garterstitch scarf made me think of how much I take for granted with knitting; how I knit for others in order to find some sort of gratitude from them when I know most of them don’t fawn over the knitted garment with the same
frantic freak-out devotion I used to knit it. I haven’t knit for myself since I finished the Bagheera Cowl and started the insane hats for Soldiers (Which were received in a week (!) and I got a thank you from an Airman. An AIRMAN. Dammit. I wrote “Soldier” in EVERY. SINGLE. LETTER. It’s right now when you can hear the thud from my head slamming against my desk.) so the fact that I’m finally knitting for myself makes me feel a little better about my abilities.
So now I knit these mittens knowing I’ll be hearing “I thought you were making a scarf instead” or “I thought you had the color that matches this item you made me last year!” to which I will tear the mittens from the recipients hands and say
“I’m disowning you” “If you don’t like them, just say so and I’ll give them to someone who will appreciate them I will totally take them off your hands to keep my own warm!”
And then I’ll pretend I’m not deeply hurt even though I totally saw it coming.
It’s at this close proximity to Christmas and said party, that I wonder why I do this to myself every year. Why do I spend hours and hours knitting things I know won’t be appreciated. Why do I stress myself to the point of lying in the fetal position chewing on my hair muttering to myself, or yelling at people “DON’T BOTHER ME WITH QUESTIONS OF GIFT CARDS, I HAVE MITTENS TO KNIT!!!” and spending my nights wondering why I ever wanted to knit in the first place? And then I come to the blog, bitch about it for a while, and I feel better
for the moment.
Tonight I will knit. Because I have a deadline. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to miss it.