I have little to say

It's been a long time since I posted here; I haven't had anything to say. Yet my hit counter tells me that I've passed 1,000 since I started counting.

They didn't like my dissertation. And they waited six months to tell me I'd failed two previous papers. So here I am, doing work I thought I'd finished long ago...and then come extensive dissertation revisions. I turned in one two weeks ago, and it hasn't been acknowledged. I'm sick of waiting, being good, delaying gratification. Yes, I'm very close to an MA. But--I thought I was there. Let me put it this way: I decided to go to graduate school because I enjoyed college, I liked my major and I did well in it. Very well. As in a 4.0 for three years, while working two jobs and going to school full time. The graduate school work was not terribly difficult, nor was there nearly as much as I had to do as an undergrad, even as a sophomore. But the vacuum of feedback, while working in a different system than I was used to, seems to have been my downfalling.

And I've still got to pay for the damn thing no matter what!

Sunday night

I’ve been having these very intense dreams. While I was in England I dreamed constantly of being asleep in my own comfortable bed in California, despite the fact that I had not been there for several months before I headed out of the country, instead spending the summer in New York—where I am right now. These cocoons of turquoise knit sheets that haunted me made me know that it was time to leave. The dreams were so intense that I would wake with morning amnesia, something that I’d never before experienced. And the intense disappointment I had in finding myself still in my dingy student house so far from the sun and my self-sustained grownup life was so hard to bear day after day after day, eating bread and yoghurt because I couldn’t bear to face the mess twelve people made in our one kitchen.

Now, I still have intense, real dreams, ones that I remember and savor because they are so much more interesting than my real life. Yesterday I was in the middle of writing an email and watching Monsoon Wedding and I dreamed that the sister of the friend I was writing to was getting married, but I couldn’t see the bride’s face, as I don’t know what the sister looks like. Sometimes I dream that I send my best friend growing up a postcard I bought for her in Ireland, and she will figure out that someone cares about her (yes, still, even though it’s silly, I know) and she decides to not have the drink she was about to pour. It’s not my job to save a drunk.

Either my brain is trying to stimulate itself before it dies of boredom, or there’s something wrong that I cannot fix by babysitting to earn the money for a plane ticket. I carry this dissatisfaction within myself, always hoping that somewhere new will help me find the life I want.

There is this core of frustration that lurks deep inside: a loneliness that follows me around, and it’s growing tiring. I thought angst was supposed to be this whole teenage thing, then you outgrew it and were able to go on without being consumed with jealousy. I played duenna to many of my friends, and have grown into a spinster—didn’t you see the pictures of my spinning? There’s this part of all of us that cries out “What about me?!” and it’s hard to stifle. Nor do I think such a voice should be stifled, and compromising isn’t going to satisfy it for long.

I don’t know where this is from but I didn’t write it:

"To touch her through the glass of air would be transgression, though I love her in her loneliness, prism'd in analysis (therefore therefore therefore, as if the bare fact could be talked into something more special), untranslatable as this: she wants someone to touch her. Through the glass of air she sees the world flown clear of her reflection, though her mind beats out: it hurts it hurts. To bear touching her, through the glass of air."

In the morning this will probably strike me as silly, but it’s really true. of course, it may also be the direct result of being given, two weeks late, a crockpot for my birthday. yes, i'm sure it's very useful, you know, eventually, but I just never thought, "Hmmm, I need a crockpot RIGHT NOW!"

Meanwhile, buy the Proclaimers’ newest album Restless Soul. I’ve been listening to it all weekend. You know, they're the guys who did "500 Miles" from the Benny and Joon soundtrack, and "I'm on my way" from one of the Shreks. You haven't lived until you've heard their completely serious version of "King of the road." This must be said out loud, very evenly and flatly to understand why this is such a great cover: "They get down with their bad selves." They even get a bit, shall we say, funky.

We had a family reunion last year, and all the girls had long, rippling dark brown hair. It was nice to fit in.

Hello and goodbye!

Being the wonderful (late) person that I have been this week, I just got back from sending out my SSSP's socks to her. Many many apologies for the lateness, and I feel bad in case she thinks that I've forgotten her. Well, I haven't, and here's proof:

But wait! What's that on the horizon?

When I came back from the post office, something was waiting for me.

Koigu! I've never seen it in person before! Wow! And my sweet sweet pal sent the extra skein along--enough to make another pair.

I think I have a new friend. Dear SSSP, I can't access your webpage. I wish I had thought to take pictures of my sock a la our Harlotiness, but I was not clever enough. I'll just have to do it next time!

Ahhhhh...

Tomorrow, my lovlies, I shall tell about my first-ever day of being a temp.

It's finished, was turned in over a week ago.

The sockies are finished, pics after they've had a bath.

Now I have nothing to do except wait.

It's finally cool enough to have all the windows open, but that also means that I can't distinguish between our phone and the neighbors' so I keep running for the phone when nobody is calling.

Nap time, I guess.

Tired eyes

I am almost finished. The thing just needs a conclusion.

I'm halfway through finishing the bibiography format.

I just have to properly format the references and look up the page numbers.

I wanted to turn it in on Friday, but it's looking more like late tomorrow.

Phew.

Here is a photo of whipped cream, just for fun.


It was a good cake.

Staten island was really pretty yesterday. I had a job interview that went well today. I don't have the job, but the interviewer said I was a good fit...I don't feel excited or disappointed, really.

The blanket was felted today, and boy did it shrink!

Dear Void

I'm feeling a bit scattered today. Can you tell?

Photo copyright 2005 Sally Driscoll.

It's not hot!

Quick, everyone, air out your house before the sun figures out it's August and comes back! What a great opportunity to ge rid of the smell of oversteamed broccoli (which smells like cabbage) and in this house, the fact that the previous owners had dogs that peed on the carpet is very apparent. So today we don't have to choose between being cool and smelling funny!

On the plus side, I was called and emailed yesterday about a job. I called them back, left a message, and responded to the email. Now, 24 hours later, I haven't heard a peep from them. Could they have found someone else in the two hours it took me to call them back?

My brain is going dry...

I have written over 12,000 words this month. It may not sound like much, but it's the longest paper I've ever written. I am now somewhere between 57% and 80% finished...all my words are being used up. This may not sound like much to those more verbose than I, but for now I will comfort myself with Thirteen Ways of Looking at Clapotis. I finished my Hot Lava cardigan, but am unhappy with the excesses of fabric around my neck, so ripped out all but the long-sleeved shrug part and will be making a simple boob-holder in the front, and add some length in the back. So, no pics of a ball of yarn. It's frogged Kureyon #40. Use your imagination. And look out for pirates.

Comments have been closed on this entry due to spam. Yes, I got my first spam!

I must be getting old

I found myself listening to Elvis the other morning, for the first time. It was three am, and he wasn't bad. Of course, dying away my grey hair didn't help the feeling, either.

Tuesdays are for gooping.

This is non-toxic, smells like a combination of hay and lavender, and fun to play with. I don't know why more people don't use henna.

I guess it's a choice between having grey hair at 24 or orange hair! The orange calms down as the henna oxidizes and the color deepens somewhat.

One thing I didn't realize that I missed deeply while in England was trees. There are very few in the town where I was living, deep in the northern moors, and there were none very close to look at from my room's window, where I spent the majority of my time. Yes, there were some, but they were less important; I was there for fall, winter, and spring...when I arrived there were leafy green trees, but that didn't last long. The light is brighter here, and so the shade becomes more important.

The house where I'm staying now is surrounded by large deciduous trees, mainly for privacy's sake, but they're wonderful to look at. At moments when I'm working and my eyes hurt from too much time spent on the computer I can look up and see trees, not brick buildings covered in drizzling rain. It didn't rain as much as I had anticipated, but it did enough so that I have many pictures of wet brick buildings.

Wowie, post one comment to our beloved Harlot's blog and get visitors!

By popular demand...

Foot! Dear Silly SSSP, I hope this helps. (Leg has been removed for your protection--it's stubbly!)
I love handknit socks; my feet are one size larger than "normal" and so handknit socks fit the way that I guess socks are meant to: not binding! Yay!

Murphy

This is not primarily a knitting blog; it's mainly to share photos easily with friends who are far away. "But," you cry (all both of you), "You only seem to read knitting blogs!" True. Shutup. For lack of any actual life content, and taking advantage of my camera's good mood (it works when I don't need it, but a one-time meeting up with a Dwarfer from overseas? Nope!) I decided to document some of this summer's projects, just to take pictures of something other than my own feet.

The beginnings of a black sweater, self-designed. with 3x2 ribbing down the sides. I'd never tried cotton yarn before, and when I got a great deal on ebay.co.uk while living in England, I decided it was worth the color (I don't normally wear black) to try Rowan wool/cotton. It's great! I have the feeling that it will get very soft with wear, and should make a good, light sweater. On size 3s, and my knitting speed, I sense this is a long-term project.

A baby sweater. I don't know why. I had three skeins of Debbie Bliss Cashmerino that I had hoped would go with some Austermann Barkarole that I have, but it's a bit off. So I made this lovely squishy jacket, using the Harlot's pattern Daisy in knitty as a guide, but mostly just knitting along for fun. Now I want one of my own.Yes, I'm making a clapotis. This is actually the second one I started, but it's also stalled. I don't know if I like it on this needle--Silk Garden on size 8s. It seems a little loose to me. I'll probably pick this back up in the fall, or else find something else to do with 9 skeins of Silk Garden.Mmm, rainbowy fun. This is assorted leftover/bought specifically for wool and a bit of alpaca leftovers, mainly elann Highland...I thought: wouldn't it be fun to knit and then felt a blanket? I still think it'll turn out pretty neat.The problem is, I don't know which color to use next.Spinning! Copper Moose Merino and Silk, so yummy! The silk actually makes it easier to spin the short, soft merino. I should have enough of this for another sweater after the black one is finished.
An example of how nice it is to have an actual tension knob for your wheel instead of making your own tension thingie with some cotton yarn. The original tension knob of my spinning wheel went missing about ten years ago during a play. I picked up spinning again last summer, but this summer when I re-picked it up I decided to see how much of a difference there would be with a real tension knob. The pink is an example of my finest two-ply before, with my own tension thingie. The blue is my new two-ply. I think it's about sport weight but I haven't tested the WPI yet.

Happy sock knitting!

Wow, comments!

Unfortunately, my camera seems to be completely kaput again. So now I'm doubly glad that I took a picture of the socks when I had the chance!

Thanks for all your nice comments about Pasha! Here's a picture of her, newly complete, with her new owner. For those of you in the know, she's gone off to live with the man who works with Mr. Flibble.

This is really not a flattering picture, but it's the only one I have!

It worked!

Dear SSSP,
Yes, indeedy--pictures! I put batteries in my dead camera today, and you should've heard the squeak I made when it came on! I have tried a few times over the past few months to see if it would work, and last time absolutely nothing happened, so I've been going into picture withdrawl. I'm hoping that what it really just needs is a cleaning...to get the salt out?

Anyway:

Pasha!

She's getting her wings, feet and eyes sewn on tomorrow. I used Lion Microspun, doubled, and she's so soft and sleek! I usually despise acrylic, but I can tolerate this stuff. And as it's a gift, I don't have to touch it for long.

Mine doesn't look quite like the knitty pattern--either I made a mistake or I overstuffed her, but I like her all round like this--even without accesories she's got personality.

As for socks, well:

Yum.

The roomies are having an argument, so I'm in my room with headphones on:

fate doesn't hang on a wrong or right choice
fortune depends on the tone of your voice
so sing while you have time
let the sun shine down from above
and fill you with songs of love

fate doesn't hang on a wrong or right choice
fortune depends on the tone of your voice
so sing while you still can
while the sun hangs high up above
wonderful songs of love
beautiful songs of love
beautiful songs of love

Yay, I can finally add pictures more easily! (Now if I can just figure out the sidebar dealie I'll have a real, actual blog).

Photo copyright 2005 by Sally Jane Driscoll. Used by permission.

THE YARN came today. It is pretty. It is soft. Wee sockies will be started after the Samantha thingie.

Dear SSSP,
Just in case you're checking to see if I write anything interesting...

I'm job-hunting, working slllllllowly on my dissertation, and generally wondering if I'll ever find a job. Yes, I could go out and get a job tomorrow--retail always likes me. But the point of working, then deciding to go to graduate school and then completing the damn course must be to then get a job, no? I got through two interviews with a boarding school in CT who wanted me to start a Drama program, a choir, teach English and History, wash the windows, castrate some cats, massage their feet, etc. Silly them; I don't do windows. After not getting that job I felt a twinge of disappointment but mainly a great sense of relief; now I didn't have to spend the next few years in rural CT. But since then, nothing. It took me seven months to find a job last time I graduated. So far this time it's only been two and a half.

Rant over. Am currently working on Kate Gilbert's Samantha in Brown Sheep's Cotton Fleece. I wanted to use baby Cashmerino but my LYS doesn't carry it, and this little dress is needed for my stepmother to take to her niece's new baby over the fourth of July weekend, yeep.

Another Tuesday night

Dear Super Secret Sock Pal,
Now I have a reason to blog more often. Unfortunately, there's not much to tell. My camera was broken on that high-tide day when Jenni was scared by a wave. She was taking a picture and got hit by a wave.

I'm back in New York these days, writing my dissertation and looking for a teaching job, and also really, really enjoying central air!

How about pink sports socks? I started my diet again today...someday it'll stick. I just figured it out; if I ever could stick to anything, it would still take about a year to lose the 80 pounds that I gained in only about three months--six years ago! That's why there aren't many pictures of me on here.

Hope you're warm and safe/cool and safe tonight.

Is this thing on?

Uh-oh, the sockapaltwoza links are being sent out, so I guess I'll have a new visitor sometime soon.

Nothing much is going on, but hello, sock pal!

I have only days left in Scarborough. Train to Manchester, 13 May...leave 14th May. Wow.

You're Love in the Time of Cholera!

by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Like Odysseus in a work of Homer, you demonstrate undying loyalty by
sleeping with as many people as you possibly can. But in your heart you never give
consent! This creates a strange quandary of what love really means to you. On the
one hand, you've loved the same person your whole life, but on the other, your actions
barely speak to this fact. Whatever you do, stick to bottled water. The other stuff
could get you killed.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

It's my 200th day in England!

My poor car!

My bench.

Happy New Year.

Jenni enlivens an otherwise dull picture.

Jenni plays the suburban housewife.

Rock pools