Becca's Blog

Yarn-conservation action undertaken.

Sigh. On Saturday I got to my mental stopping point on the blue baby blankie, knit a final round, and gleefully started on the border. First I started with the pretty leaf-vein vertical pattern I found in Knitting on the Edge. I quickly realized that knitting 36 stitches for every one bound-off stitch was really inefficient, and the lace holes at the edge of the blanket weren't a good idea for something meant to be sturdy.

So I went down to a 9-stitch border of seed and garter stitch, then about 40 stitches in, I started picking up a live stitch on both the right and wrong sides. It took a bit of yarn wrapping to knit the stitches together on the wrong side, but actually I liked the way the edge was laying with a stitch picked up every row. It had a firmer, flatter edge.

But I began to worry about running out of yarn--by the time I got one wedge of the hexagon bound off I was really nervous. Rather than knitting until the skein ran out and hoping it would go halfway around, I had the brains to weigh the yarn remaining in the skein. A bit more than half a skein left, meaning something like half a skein consumed by one-sixth of the blanket. No real hope of finding this same dyelot again (I think this yarn is at least two years old).

So I spent a good bit of last night ripping out the border, and I'm unknitting that last round, stitch by stitch. It's really taken the wind out of my sails, when I was so excited about being in the home stretch. I'll probably see if I can finish ripping tonight, but if not, I'll set it aside for a few days and try to finish something else. While I'm at it, I might count stitches so I can know exactly what's ahead of me--even if that's not the most motivational thing to do.

I'm going to have a lot of unscheduled time and waiting time this weekend in San Diego while Jane walks, so I bet I can finish it then.

Some people do not have enough to worry about.

I think the proliferation of video screens everywhere is pernicious--the implications of having an electronic pacifier never more than an arms-length away are pretty dismal. And anyone who plays porn in their vehicle where it can be seen involuntarily by others is a new form of lowlife (and I don't doubt those people exist). But still. Give me a freakin' break. This would be the nanny state.

I guess I've arrived.

I've gotten my first filthy comment spam.

I may be working at home, but I've been working a *lot*. My office is a mess, and those daily exercise sessions I planned? Not happening.

This past weekend we had some friends over for dinner, and I made the beef bourguignon from Barefoot in Paris. I would definitely do it differently next time, although it turned out nicely. 

I also found time to cast on Clapotis from the Over the Rainbow sock yarn, and do about 4 inches of a neck gaiter for Dulaan, in Lion Brand Homespun Baby -- photo coming when it's done.  I've also been working away on the baby pants and dinking around with the ArtFibers Kyoto for a scarf--there's an interesting pattern in a Jo Sharp book I got from Elann awhile back--although I found a mistake in the pattern already, and it's confusingly written. It doesn't give me confidence for the sweater patterns in the book.

I'd like to make the scarf a birthday present for my sister-in-law, but I know I'm not going to get there. Maybe next Christmas...

The life of the party, that's me.

Anne pointed to this quiz, so I took it--and I think it says I'm a know-it-all and a buzz-kill. Great.

You're Brave New World
by Aldous Huxley
With an uncanny ability for predicting the future, you are a true psychic. You can see how the world will change and illuminate the fears of future generations. In the world to come, you see the influence of the media, genetic science, drugs, and class warfare. And while all this might make you happy, you claim the right to be unhappy. While pregnancy might seem painful, test tube babies scare you most. You are obsessed with the word "pneumatic."

I am *not* obsessed with the word "pneumatic."

So many movies, so little time.

We finally saw Kinsey last weekend, which crosses off one of the holiday films on my list. Now we just have to see The Incredibles, Lemony Snicket, Finding Neverland, Being Julia, and several others that I can't remember at the moment.

I enjoyed Kinsey, and found myself reflecting on it later, but lately I can't leave my editor self at home when I go to the movies. The ending struck me as rushed and sloppy--I wanted a more literal narrative ending, I guess, since the movie was fairly linear throughout. And I wanted to hear the other characters' perspective on their experience in retrospect. Were they permanently damaged by the way their research slopped into their personal lives or did they make peace with it? Oh damnit, I'll admit it. I wanted resolution. Anyway, Alfred Kinsey and his wife came across as two remarkable people. And yet again, it reinforced that we're in an era of renewed repression.

I heard Terry Gross's interview with the director, Bill Condon, on Fresh Air several weeks ago. He talked about how the right wing is attempting to discredit the film because they revile Kinsey's research. Information is poisonous, you know. Augh.  BTW, if you haven't seen Gods and Monsters, by the same director, rent it. Another really cool character study.

Along with "movies I must get my ass out the door to see," I have a list of "movies to see when dear spouse is out of town or indisposed." Primarily these consist of movies with subtitles.  The newest entry on that list is Les Choristes, a French movie about a boys' school choir during World War II. (Why are so many artsy movies still set during World War II?)  Not on the list: A Very Long Engagement. Although I loved Amelie, this new movie looks like a snore.

A dispatch from the front lines of the culture wars

... and the news is all bad. Argh. On Saturday Jane and I attended the pro-choice rally and march in San Francisco.

Though we both tend to think that demonstrations don't have much effect, this time we felt compelled to show up and be counted, since the opposition came onto our turf.  It was all business as usual (heartfelt speeches to the converted and hokey chants) until we actually crossed paths with the pro-life demonstrators along the Embarcadero. One girl near us said what I often feel: "Haven't we been here been here before? Haven't we done this already?"

All of a sudden I felt like chanting, and had to make my own sign.
They had bused in thousands of demonstrators from the Central Valley, and Reno, and probably farther away.

While their palatable "women deserve better" public face is an infuriating lie, I pretty much loved the fact that the pro-life demonstrators weren't allowed to carry their giant posters of fetuses. One guy snuck his in, though. It felt pretty good to yell at them, even though it changes nothing.

So this morning's news, that the president met with anti-choice demonstrators and that some freaky parish in Colorado is burying medical waste, is just depressing. Children are being indoctrinated not to question or think for themselves, and being whipped up into a state of hysteria by radical theater like these burials. Mentally, I look around and wonder when the world view I grew up with disappeared--the set of assumptions so fundamental that I can scarcely articulate them: that tolerance, truth, and fair play are paramount virtues, regardless of your religion or lack thereof.

And now the constitutional marriage amendment is being reintroduced. I think they're kicking us while we're down.

If you want to read a "can't cry so you have to laugh" post, check out James Wolcott's update on James Dobson's crusade against SpongeBob.

I think I have to go write a couple of checks now. I would encourage you to contribute to the advocacy group of your choice, and get in the habit of communicating with your senators and representatives, because it's really real--our civil liberties are under serious attack.

My hundred and two things

1. I'm an oldest child and a Virgo. This explains a lot about my personality.
2. My MBPT type is ISFP. Somehow I feel this says more about my character than my personality.
3. I love tools, especially combination ones.
4. It's much more fun to acquire and dabble with a new tool (or technique) than to practice/master a not-so-new one (see item #2).
5. I'm a better planner than an executor.
6. I love to make lists.
7. I don't have good handwriting unless I write very slowly.
8. I don't have the patience for calligraphy, but I think it would be good discipline.
9. I don't have the patience for sewing, but I don't consider this a character flaw.
10. I can't draw, and I wish I could.
11. I accept that I don't have the time to learn how to draw right now.
12. I have an obsessive love of office supplies.
13. I've seen my father's desk drawer--I know where this fetish came from.
14. My mother was born in the first year of the baby boom; I was born in the last.
15. My mother worked outside of the house from the time I was 5.
16. A babysitter taught me how to knit when I was 8.
17. I picked it up again in college when a roommate was doing it.
18. I've knit off and on ever since, secretly feeling that it was too sedentary and old-ladyish through much of my 20s and 30s.
19. Knitting math makes my eyes glaze over. I can do it when I have to, but it's boring.
20. Financial math makes my brain freeze. I could remember what's important about a P/E ratio or a midcap growth fund, but I don't care.
21. I like spending way better than saving.
22. I believe the prevailing ethic in American business is "never give a sucker an even break."
23. Because of items #20, #21, and #22, I'm afraid I'll retire poor.
24. I'm a firm believer in the serial comma.
25. Gardening doesn't interest me.
26. I'd like to have a nice-looking yard nonetheless.
27. I kill houseplants.
28. I speak French well.
29. I speak Italian less well.
30. I still have a few phrases left from my college Russian classes.
31. I find Yiddish incredibly useful.
32. My name sounds a little Jewish, but I am not Jewish.
33. I'm a good writer but usually believe I have no stories worth hearing.
34. That's why I'm a journalist and editor.
35. There's nothing harder than putting words on a blank sheet of paper.
36. I grew up in Northern California in the '70s.
37. Don't talk to me about earth tones.
38. Beige, cream, gray, and some shades of green don't count as earth tones.
39. In junior high school I crocheted granny-square lap robes for the local convalescent home out of tweedy yarn--in earth tones.
40. I'm out of love with tweedy yarn, but I still have plenty of it in my stash.
41. I have an afghan made of rust, brown, and cream granny squares, made for me by my grandmother. I will never give it up.
42. I didn't know what a preppie was until my senior year of high school, when a girl transferred in from Virginia. She had one of those fabric purses with the wooden handles. I thought it was weird-looking, but I hoped she'd be my friend.
43. Like a dope, I silently hoped she'd be my friend while the cheerleaders glommed onto her.
44. I'm still inept when it comes to making friends.
45. I next encountered preppies at college in Southern California, a lot of them, of the frat-boy-in-argyle-vest variety. They were terribly exotic.
46. I'm still a sucker for preppie clothes, and Ralph Lauren's Edwardian-style stuff jerks my chain.
47. I suspect this is related to some deep-seated class bias that I'm not proud of.
48. I hate that Lauren perfume all the girls wore my freshman year of college. I don't even know if they make it anymore.
49. I can't afford to buy Ralph Lauren clothes unless they're at Loehmann's.
50. I'm also a sucker for ruffles and polka dots. I'm considering making Rowan's Elfin sweater (I won't add polka dots--I promise).
51. My aunt crocheted me a burgundy-and-white acrylic poncho when I was a kid.
52. I wore a lot of pink, black, and burgundy in high school, including a checked skirt and a floppy-tied blouse.
53. As God is my witness, I'll never wear burgundy again.
54. My fantasy body looks like a noirish Grace Kelly.
55. My physical body looks nothing like that (of course).
56. I have an adversarial relationship with my body. I always have.
57. Despite the evidence, I'm still not sold on that mind-body connection. I believe my body exists to carry my brain and spirit around.
58. I don't understand why democracy = capitalism. Maybe I missed something in civics class.
59. I can't remember why the United States is such a great country to live in.
60. My wife refuses to emigrate to Italy, and she's dragging her heels on Vancouver.
61. We got married in Vancouver last March.
62. I'd go back in a heartbeat.
63. I'm a wannabe New Yorker.
64. I hope that if I'm very, very good in this life, I'll go to Rome after I die.
65. If I won the lottery, I'd run away to cooking school in Calabria and never come back.
66. After cooking school I'd go to art school.
67. I think Mario Batali rocks. The waits for a reservation at his restaurants are entirely justified.
68. The Food Network is my personal opiate of choice.
69. I think Alice Waters is unbearably pretentious and out of touch with reality.
70. Among Berkeleyites, this makes me a heretic.
71. My fellow Berkeleyites often annoy the hell out of me.
72. I used to bake bread fairly often, but then I moved to the town where artisanal bakeries are more common than 7-11s and it no longer seemed like a good use of my time.
73. I might start baking bread again.
74. She doesn't know it, but Janeane Garofalo is my soul sister. Everything she says is exactly what I think, except she's better informed and more articulate. When I saw her in concert I laughed until I couldn't catch my breath.
75. I tend to anticipate the worst outcome of any situation.
76. I consider it a sign of personal growth that I can also imagine less catastrophic outcomes.
77. I tend to believe everything I read.
78. I was an adult before I learned to question the source and motives of things I read. That liberal education came in handy for something.
79. Try as I might, I cannot retain the basic principles of photography. Hence the crappy pictures on this site.
80. Given that I ran a Web site for three-plus years, I should have a better grasp of HTML than I do.
81. I can identify birds by their songs and calls.
82. I find birding by ear easier than birding by sight, but I'm no slouch with the binoculars, either.
83. I'm pretty bad at warblers, though, either way.
84. I hate movies with graphic violence.
85. I was afraid of the Three Stooges when I was a kid.
86. I love Adam Sandler movies now.
87. I'm allergic to conflict.
88. My family of origin seems to love conflict.
89. I suspect most people would say the same.
90. To me, "moral values" can be loosely translated as "recipe for dysfunctional family."
91. I want to be a crusader against domestic violence.
92. I believe fervently in gun control.
93. I believe medicine should be socialized.
94. I'm the alpha wolf of my household pack.
95. I make my two dogs earn their treats.
96. My dogs are always happy to see me, but they're delirious to see the biscuit-showering nice mom.
97. My cat doesn't love me, just my lap.
98. I adore human babies.
99. I'm perfectly happy never to bear or raise human children.
100. I enjoy being an indulgent aunt.
101. I think being an adult is way better than being a kid.
102. I understand the need for routines and structure in life, but that doesn't make me like them.

I had to pull the covers over my head

Last night I passed from manic, stomach-churning nervousness to sick, heavy-limbed dread by 7 p.m. I decided I can get a job pushing doughnuts at Tim Hortons while I find out what the hell Canadians use in place of the Chicago Manual of Style, and prepared to tell Jane she'd be surfing in Tofino from now on. I felt like laying down, so I did. Mercifully, I lost consciousness until 5:30 this morning. Now I'm trying to remain hopeful, but it's hard.

I'm very proud of my brother, though. He lives in a conservative county in Southern California, and served as precinct captain for John Kerry. He spent yesterday calling voters in swing states and driving voters to the polls. It's good to feel like you're doing something constructive.

Last week I bought myself some "buck-up" books, including Don't Think of an Elephant to figure out why conservatives and liberals have such different world views and motivations. While I feel better informed, I also still feel totally outnumbered and far from hopeful. And based on conversations I've had in the past couple of weeks, I don't believe that liberals are really inclined to put aside our small differences for a greater good. We like having the moral high ground, no matter how small. I'm thinking of an utterly irrational conversation I had with a Nader voter last week. I kept saying "you're right, but" and he kept ranging farther afield from reality. I'm also thinking of the Nader voters who quite possibly could throw the election to Bush. Great statement of principle, people.