Feeling kinda brain-fried right now, after almost a week in Portland, 3 days for Google Analytics training, 2 days for Drupal Summit. Wildly disrupted sleep schedule: the first couple of days my old-lady knee hurt all night, so I hardly slept; last night I stayed up until 1:30am, which pretty much never happens, and I haven’t gotten up any later than 7am all week, so…yeah. (And also: PMS FTL.)
I’ve gotten lots out of this, both events, and I’ll have to spend some time with my notes, but I do feel like I’m about to hit the wall. So I’m sitting in the “hackers’ lounge”, basically a meeting room with round tables and lots of extension cords, other programmers talking and typing and whatnot.
I could be reviewing my notes. I could be working on projects. I could be catching up on my (personal) email and seeing if there’s anything I need to do for ENA or BPAC…which I’m sure there is, and I totally don’t want to do any of that.
Tomorrow I go home, and then I have the next two weeks on vacation. We were going to make plans to go someplace or do some work, and we never did actually do that. But right now, I just want to sleep.
Not just: I would love to get some more social time, but don’t quite have a group to hang out with. It seems particularly strange to feel like an outsider in a group that’s all (or almost all) other nerds. Like: really?
I wonder if I would be in a better frame of mind if I did just start on something and do stuff. (Alternatively: I really miss my bicycle. Alternatively alternatively: maybe I should just knit.)
"Do you really want the bar set this high? Do you really want to live in a society where just getting by requires a person to hold down two jobs and work 60 to 70 hours a week? Is that your idea of the American Dream?"
A few weeks ago, while I was cleaning I found a knitting book that I bought some years back in a burst of optimism, thinking I was going to be all crafty and stuff. But who has time for that sort of thing? This time, though, I figured I might as well give it a whirl. I went to Fred Meyer, bought a skein of yarn (in fern, I think – a color very similar to a sweater I had as a child) and a pair of needles, and started in on the book. Which sucked, at least for me; but all of that is in my knitting book reviews, including my notes about other books I’ve tried, am reading now, and am thinking about reading later. That’s not what I wanted to write about.
The process of knitting is interesting for me, and I’m glad I started it up. For one thing, it’s a good experience in learning something totally unfamiliar, and being bad at it for a while, and experimenting with techniques to get better. In some ways, I’m practicing failure in a safe environment. If I totally muff binding off a test piece, and end up tossing the whole thing, or have a few backwards rows or WTF happened to those stitches, it’s all okay, as long as I keep trying.
I imagine I’m building my spatial skills in particular – the part that’s been most difficult is translating text and drawings into fingers, needles, and yarn. Each book has slightly different descriptions of each technique, so I find myself jumping back and forth until I find one that makes sense in my head. Alas, the only casting on technique that I can make sense of doesn’t seem to make for a particularly nice edge. I may need to get help in person.
I’m trying to stick with inexpensive yarn, but I’m also discovering how cheap is too cheap. The first yarn I tried worked fairly well, but the second one (teal), not so much. I got a piece done, but it felt like fighting the whole time, and the same with that borked test piece I mentioned earlier. (I should get a picture of that. The basketweave look was pretty cool.) Yesterday I bought yarn from an actual yarn shop: Cascade Pacific in Ginger. It’s so soft! And easier to work, as far as I can tell, either that or I’m getting better at maintaining appropriate tension.
All my life I’ve been a fidget. Notoriously, when I did the speech competition for Academic Decathlon in high school, I was required to remove all my jewelry (and I wore a lot more then) because otherwise I’d just work my way through playing with Every Single Piece. To this day, I have to consciously stop myself from worrying at buttons, zippers, earrings, etc; at my desk, I have a fidget toy made of safety pins that I worry at basically all day long.
Turns out knitting is like fidgeting, only you end up with a scarf (or whatever) at the end of it; perfect for watching TV or for being a passenger on a long drive. And I find it both relaxing and oddly compulsive.
What this hobby doesn’t help with: my poor overworked hands. It’s more of the same small finger movements as working on the computer, which is probably why it’s a good match with fidgeting. But I definitely should be pacing myself!
