Wednesday, April 14, 2010

That horoscope lady better get out of my head....

First, the knitting news. Then I will explain my title. Promise.

I went back to the stole I'm working on with my Great American Yarns Superfine Merino/Silk (and the name really ought to just stop with the "Superfine", only perhaps spelled "Supahfiiine!") I got to a full 10 pattern repeats when I realized I'd screwed up my maths. Oh, nothing fatal, really, I was just off by two stitches on the one border. It was visible and (if you're OCD) obvious, and it had messed up my pattern stitches on the edges in spots--slightly. To be honest, most muggles wouldn't be able to spot it, but I would always know I'd screwed up. I spent about ten minutes debating the issue, got up, had some dinner, came back...and then took the 10 pattern repeat section off my needles (this is why the Goddess of Knitting invented rescue lines) and cast on again with the next skein of yarn and the proper number of stitches.

The logic of this runs: If I prefer it in the proper number of stitches, I can just frog the first section and use that yarn at the end. If I find the proper number of stitches looks funny (the proper number being a smaller number of border stitches), then I can just go back and start knitting on the original block, fixing the issue as I go. Smart of me, yes?

Well, no. I mean, it was smart, but now I've got two segments of stole that I'm not sure I'm thrilled with at all! The first one is definitely lopsided and sloppy, but the other is almost too narrow. That might even out with blocking, but I can't guess (without blocking my uber-swatch, which would maybe do horrible things to the yarn itself as I'm not a pro at blocking.) I'm not sure what to do, and now I have options. I hate options. They make life so complicated.

I tend to work on my other, mindless pattern scarf when I'm at knitcoven, so at least it proceeds apace. I begin to think I'm using the wrong stitches for the amount of yarn I've got--I think I'll end up with either a ten foot scarf or a scarf and a half a ball of yarn. Bleh. The knitting is not going so good this week!

Now, as to my title, I may have mentioned I read my horoscope in our local paper because the woman gives excellent advice. Typically, my horoscope is something along the lines of "Be brave, there's no sense in being otherwise!" or "Your heart's true desire is attainable!" She's more a fortune cookie writer than horoscope writer*, although two weeks ago, she got a bit more...timely with her good advice.

The Saturday before Easter, my horoscope was "Make a decision before a loved one makes the decision for you." I remember the wording exactly, because I thought, oh, that's funny! What decision will my loved ones make for me that I have not made myself? Well. I should not have scoffed. Long story short, my family (ok, ok, just my sisters) tried to make an important decision about my life. I understand their reasoning, don't like their methods (the one was all tearful, the second yelled at me for a quarter of an hour), but I can't blame anyone but me for the whole incident. I mean, the one who yelled at me kept saying I was 'waiting for something to happen' and that's not how to live, etc, and kept telling me I had to do something nowrightnow about this situation.

I don't really talk about my plans or ideas or desires with my family, as these would not reassure them. They're all a completely different generation than I am, which means there are lots of generational differences that crop up all the time, and since I don't think like they do, act like they do or share the exact same values that they do, they tend to treat me as if I'm foolish. So I save my breath and keep my plans safe and secure, tucked up tight behind my breastbone where they can't get to them to tear them apart like harpies. Therefore, why should I be upset that they have no faith in me to figure out life for myself? Of course they think I'm just waiting for something to happen--I've never told them otherwise.

I've digressed, haven't I? Anyway...all the steam and dust and feathers just prodded me to do what I'd been intended to do (but feared doing). I finally, finally, submitted my first article to the freelance writer's clearinghouse to which I belong. It was scary, it was harder than I thought, but I've done it. I was going to try a second this week, but I don't know. I'd like to find out if I did my first one right before I take a second and maybe screw it up to ReWriteLandia. Then again, as I'm being brave, maybe I won't wait.

I wish I felt stronger for having done this, I wish I was more comfortable with insecurity, because, hoo-doggie, what's less secure than trying to be a freelance writer? If anything, I feel a bit drained. And like I'm trying to start for a migraine. Or maybe it's just the megrims. I don't know, but I've started it up now, and I've nothing to lose by starting, so.... *Gallic shrug* Whatever happens, happens. I'll just deal with it when it does!

*I would like to point out, I don't believe in linear time. This makes the issue of telling the future moot--as I don't think the future really *is* yet, if you know what I mean, so how can you see it, and it isn't set in stone if it does exist, so knowing would be impossible anyway. You might be able to guess a trend, but that's not the same. Anyway, I don't read my horoscope or my tarot because I think it's going to tell me what's coming next; I use both as tools for meditation and personal reflection, for the good advice tendered by the horoscope writer and to admire the pretty pictures on the cards.

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