I realize that when it comes to this blogging thing I suck. I mean, seriously: this is the 32nd post in this mess I started in 2012. And although that may sound like a lot when you say it out loud (thirtee-too), in the world of blog that’s nothing. Folks around here type volumes daily over years. Decades. What the hello? Wordpress is constantly sending me friendly little reminders about how to get my stats up, the most important thing in that equation being my actually writing stuff enough to get people to notice me and to follow me.
This may come as a surprise, but, I don’t necessarily want nor need people to follow me. I mean, if you do, I really appreciate it. That’s awesome, thank you. But I’m not looking to up my stats. I was just really hoping that feeding this blog would encourage me to write more, because, while I love to write, I often hit these brick walls of creativity where I could and should finish something but instead get desperately sidetracked. I have a lot of outlets and a lot of interests and a complete spaz for a brain. Therefore, it is too easy for me to get sidetracked.
So what have I been doing with myself, instead of finishing blag posts, or my book or whatnot? Well, so far this year, I’ve watched twelve movies and read only five books. I know this because my local library has a counter that keeps track for you, and at the end of the year, those who have finished over fifty books (and in a separate contest, fifty films) are put in a raffle to win a prize. I have never won, even though I’m fairly certain no one else in my town reads as much as I do. I read 151 books in 2013, beating my personal goal of 150 books by one. 150 was my goal for 2012, but I only made it to 126, which is interesting when you consider I wasn’t in school in 2012. It’s strange how I’m apparently reading more even though I have significantly less time.
Keeping track of what you read in a year is a good idea. Not controlling in the way my nifty little acquisition tends to be, but just an account. If I compare the 2011 list with the 2013 list, there are interesting trends. I notice that I tend to read in patterns – genres change during certain times of the year, and I have a list of go-back-to reads that are surprising, especially to me. Who knew I’d read Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson at least once a year? Not me.
You may have noted that it’s only 18 days into the New Year and I’ve already seen twelve movies. What the frak have I been doing that I haven’t been able to post my giant blag about 2013 in review, but I’ve been able to see The Social Network for the nth time? Well my semester of scary math, cosmology and neuroscience (what the frell?) is almost upon me. So I’ve decided that last years poor offerings in the knitting-hats-for-bald-kids department was appalling and shameful, and therefore I’ll give myself a fighting chance this year, and try to get in as much knitting as I can between now and next week, when the academic shiz starts to get out of hand.
Right now I has a sessee stack of about 12 woolen and 2 cotton caps that I’ve churned out since the 4th. (I’ll maybe post a picture here if I remember in the morning). Plus one that I made for myself that remains a cause for great ethical and philosophical debate between me and my brain. The debate goes something like this:
Me: I really love this hat pattern I have been knitting incessantly for days now. I should really knit myself one.
My Brain: Why don’t you? You need a hat, and we’ve got all that wool from your mom’s friend.
Me: Yes, but isn’t that wool earmarked for the bald kids?
My Brain: No. They got you the yarn, they didn’t intend for it to go to the charity, they wanted you to get some use out of it. You were the one who gave it to the knitting project.
Me: Yes but…
My Brain: No buts. Just do it. You need a hat, you like this pattern, you don’t have the money but you do have the wool. And the wool was yours to do with what you would. The only one who will be upset about it will be you.
Me: Okay. I’ll do it. But I’ll swim in guilt forever.
My Brain: Sounds like a plan.
So I knit myself the hat, and it’s faboo. It’s a lacy slouch cap, and it looks good with my hair up or down, and covers the baldish bits as well as my ears, and keeps the snow off and the heat in. However, I feel like a jerk half the time that I A: wasted perfectly good yarn on me, B: that I meant for all the yarn to go to my hats for brats project, and C: I wasted perfectly good knitting time on me and not the project. Even though everyone says I’m overreacting, I kept feeling like I was a Bad Person. This resulted in BB telling me that I ‘must be a Bad Person, because that is a Bad Hat’. He then informed me that in France my hat would be referred to as ‘Le Bad Hat’ and I told him it would be called Le Chapeau Mal and sneered.
I’d ask my readers or nonreaders their opinion on the ethics involved here. But it’s kind of moot as I know that the second I get any moolah it’s all going in the yarn donation bank to cover the price of the yarn I used on my hat. And don’t worry, I’ll round up to the price of a full ball.
Now, after taking the long way around, we get to my point which is: I watched 12 movies so far this year mostly because I’ve been knitting in all my free time, and I cannot read and knit at the same time. I can, however, knit and watch all the movies I want at the same time. Couple that with four days of free HBO and a DVR, and I’m all set for knitting bliss.
The only exception to this knitting thing would be having gone to the cinema to see the new Hobbit film, much to my chagrin. Tolkien must be rolling in his grave over that mess.
Other things I have been doing are equally disturbing and boring and can best be explained in the following blaggage: The Year in Terrible Things and The Year in Musical Instruments.