Or, the curious incidence for a desire for perfection within the soul of an utter, confirmed and unrepentant slob.
Mess doesn't bother me. I can work, surrounded by heaps of disorganized items. Not only does it not bother me, I usually don't notice. I have never become irritated with myself because I can't find something that I have lost. I swear at the lost item, but it never occurrs to me to 'get my act together' which sounds highly unpleasant, and probably involves lots of Post-It notes and New Year resolutions.
I deliberately wear mismatching socks. I wear color combinations that make my family start to weep copiously and I sashay on, unmoved. I do hate to be dirty, personally. If, in the middle of the day, I think that I need a shower, CLEAR THE WAY, I am taking a shower.
A few of my family members are different. My dad, for instance. He just does not work well in a messy enviroment. It drives him crazy. My sister inherited this. Something in their soul clicks, and they feel peaceful, in control, and happy when they are surrounded by organized bliss. They hate people like me. They can't understand, or refuse to believe, that I actually don't care and am not bothered by the 5,732 pieces of paper strewn over my room, the 3,800 notebooks, the uncountable number of books, discarded clothing, pens, knitting needles, empty cups, plates, etc all forming a jungle out of my bedroom.
I become highly indignant and panicky when someone attempts to move, touch, or otherwise harm my belongings. WHAT DO YOU MEAN you threw out that peace of paper, you robot of organization, that had a POEM on it, OK, still unrevised, but I NEED THAT PAPER! I NEED ALL OF MY PAPERS!
However, I have discovered something unique in my knitting. I want my knitting experience...to be perfect. As I scoping out my new project, I ponder. Hmm. Yes, those Lantern Moon double pointed ebony needles cost over $30. And I would still need to buy the other needles for that project. Oh, and the yarn, which would also have to feel perfect, and be the perfect color combination (Endpaper Mitts, you see). If I had my way, making those freaking Endpaper Mitts would probably cost $70-80 dollars.
But, you see, if I didn't/don't, then I would be unhappy. I would know, deep in my soul, that I need those ebony needles. I would feel frustrated, unhappy, and angry with myself. I want to sit down and think: yes. Here are my needles. Here are the perfect yarns. Here is the perfect pattern. I am ready.
Starting my Hedgerow socks was like that. I splurged. But I had exactly what I wanted. I spent $33.19 on yarn and needles. To make socks. Wasteful, extravagant? No. A simple indulgence of my little known, inner perfectionist.
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2 comments:
actually, I've found that most of my patterns are teen-sized. You are one of the first knitters that I've found that started knitting at another time/place than me. I got the book Teen Knitting Club and most of the patterns are pretty cool. Yeah, so if you need a pattern to work on, that book has some cool sweaters and other stuff, especially to do with friends. I just got my friends involved, but they're too new at it to pick up any real projects. That book I thought was cool in one of my posts (Chicks with sticks) also had some patterns, but not anything big. Just scarves and socks and mittens and stuff like that. There are three of those books, but I've only read the first two
ya know, that thing you said about luxurious yarn was kinda right. If you put that much time and effort into something, you do want it perfect. What have your non-knitter friends said when you make thing and wear them at school? I haven't actually shown any of my friends this stuff yet, partly because I'm shy and partly because its . . . my thing. Good luck with those mittens or gloves or whatever, cause if you do them just right, they'll look really punked. Oh yeah, if you google teen knit blog, you'll find TONS of other teens who knit. You can also join a circle, I have some on my page.
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