The Slow Hat Completed and Other Things

Here lies pictures of the hat to match the scarf I made for the SDA lady. In addition to these pictures, I’m including two other projects I’m working on. One is a scarf, green, for a comedian I’m a fan of and the other is a gray and as of yet undetermined second color scarf for my father.

One of these pictures shows a toned down example of my “morning hair”. You don’t want to witness what it looks like when I first get up.

I have a crappy Radioshit webcam…oxymoronic, I know. Please excuse the quality. As soon as I can get better, you’ll see better quality images. Incidentally, the straights I’m using to make the green scarf are the very first pair I bought. *wipes away one wistful tear of pride*

The hats base is made with k1p1 ribbing and I cast 80 stitches on. It’s a habit…I’ve also found it to be a nice size for an adult hat given the yarn I normally use. From there I just did a knit stitch to the end. Pretty much the basic circular needle hat routine.

The scarves are, so far, done in basic knit stitch. With the green one, I’m just going for plain but the with the gray I may do some stuff. It depends on which color(s) I use to shake the pattern up. I’ve got some great multicolor yarn here that I’ve been itching to use. All in good time says I.

Bipolar Disorder: A Bit Of Light Reading…

I’ve been reading *gasp*shock*awe* Treebooks over the past few days that I checked out of the Library. One in particular has been most interesting. What’s even more interesting to me is the fact that I haven’t gotten through fifty pages of it and it’s interesting to me.

The name of the book is ‘Living Well With Depression and Bipolar Disorder: What Your Doctor Doesn’t Tell You…That You Need To Know‘ by one John McManamy. This is probably one of the most insightful pieces of literature I’ve read on the subject of Bipolar Disorder. Without making people with Mood Disorders either pathetic Dickensian rejects slated to a bitter end or going off into fanciful laa laa land with tales of performing Superhuman feats on command, his books brings the experience of having Bipolar Disorder to the forefront and makes it accessible for even the most dense readers skeptical of the existence of this spectrum of Mood Disorders to pick up on.

I know I sound harsh when I am so cold and dispassionate about my description of people who could do with reading this book but, being honest, I haven’t run across many who are actually the “understanding type”. I usually get the “Oh, this isn’t real!” or the “You’re all just faking it to get attention.” to the “It’s all just a scam.” crowd. That’s when I’m not getting people who are ready to bolt from the table at a moments notice once I disclose that I do have Bipolar Disorder or who want to treat me as though I were an infant without even the most rudimentary capability of cognition.

I’ve had that happen on more than one occasion and, if I’d been more shakable, I might have left the situation (college) completely never to return. Thank goodness BCCC isn’t the only college in this area and that CCBC (a much more open and supportive school) is closer to where I live.

On that topic: Thanks, Professor J and Disability Specialist NH-W for not sucking like the rest.

In reading this book (what I’ve read thus far), I’ve felt more inclined to at least make the attempt at fostering communications with people rather than further isolating myself. Most of my small circle of current friends are either somewhere in the realms of Mental and/or Physical illness themselves or acquainted enough with it not to prejudice our relationship based solely on my diagnoses. While comforting in its own way, and much appreciated, it’s not exactly socially healthy to be so isolated. One must have the opinions and viewpoints of a wider variety of friends rather than be insulated in ones own perceived social similarity.

Sort of like a Mental Health version of Sex in the City I guess…though the visuals of that are quite frightening.

In short: I think I’m going to enjoy reading this and forcing…er I mean recommending others to do the same.

KaliTime’s History of Blogging

I’ve been going over the posts of mainly this blogs predecessor over on Blogger. Parts of me are greatly desirous of just deleting the thing but I know, even as I think it, that people who still don’t know of my move after all this time could do with the breadcrumbs to this new site. I was shocked to find that people on Blogshares with whom I shared site links were still contacting me more than one year after the initial move with a desire to update their links. So, up it stays.

What I am determined to do though is to delete all the posts save the last one. One problem: They don’t seem to like their users doing that. I’ve got two hundred nineteen posts and very little patience to get through them all. Not to mention that my mood is currently fluctuating. :-/

Er, I’ll get through it. Maybe it will take my mind off of other things.

New Found Militancy

I’ve no idea where it’s coming from but I seem to have grown a militant bone. Or at least, a spot of militancy. I guess it could have been as a result of the pseudo-converter from the other day.

He saw fit to initiate a coversation on MySpace as a seemingly barely literate newbie before blossoming into a walking Bible Tract. Thankfully, I ended it before the whole nonsense got out of hand but since then I’ve been waaaaaay more into LGBT politics, social issues, and even economics than before. Prior to this, I floated through it all with no shame in who I am while at the same time being too lazy? aloof? introverted? to be more active in community events.

I see this chain of events as a good thing and, if I were really evil minded, I’d go back and thank the guy for doing just the opposite of what he most probably intended.

Now I away to an appointment.

The Slowest Hat On Earth

I’ve been making this hat since October. It makes no sense that it’s not done by now but there you go. It’s the hat I’m making for the SDA Scarf Lady and it’s in the same colors as the pink and gray scarf I’d made her prior. Pink…*shudder*

I’m going to power through it tonight. I need to get this thing off of my needles.

While wasting time, I’ve been floating all over the web looking at peoples websites and blogs dedicated to knitting and I’ve found quite a few gems. One in particular, The Nocturnal Knit Witch, is leading me to other really cool blogs and I’ve been swimming in their lovliness…in lieu of finishing the hat. *sigh*

So far, I’ve been looking over a few of the Queernet links via the QueerKnit ring on her blog and all those sites look cool as well. I may have to check some of them out in more detail…after I finish the hat. After. Not Before.

A lot of these sites have such great yarn links. It makes me feel a real idiot to have made the vow not to make frivolous purchases in 2008 on my 43things list. This is paired with a vow to make use of all the yarn I have now rather than buying even one new package of the stuff. Until I make this container devoid of the yarn in it I am not to buy anything unless it’s for an order. Not one skein, hank, or ball.

I’m pulling against the chain even as I write this.

I will say one thing: By January 2009, I want to have saved up enough to treat myself to a Yarn orgy. Between working, orders, and clinical studies, I’m hoping to have enough saved up to treat myself and pay down some of my rent if I’m fortunate enough to be out of here by then. In all honesty, I don’t think I’m going to lose my mind but I am going to pamper myself. I can see myself buying a good…$50.00USD worth of yarn and needles of various sizes but no more. If I can find them in a cheap place, then all the better.

Priorites: The goals to which I set myself on the path to acheiving.

Now, to knit I go. To deal with chainsmoking annoyances downstairs and to knit. {{(dons the Albuterol shield)}}

Veg*n Does Not Equal Chainsmoking Fish

This is so funny.

For the past few years, I’ve been practically hammering it into my mothers head that I’m a vegetarian. V-E-G-E-T-A-R-I-A-N. That is, a person who does not consume meat or eggs.

Somehow this translate in her mind to “I am a lover of all meats and will eat a full pile of them if given the opportunity.” Why it does, I don’t know but, over the past few years with me being sick, she’s done the shopping and I’ve had little choice but to selectively eat some things she’s brought home. I didn’t like it but there was no more money for other things by the time she got through with the shopping.

About a month or so ago, I’d made up my mind that I was going back to being a full on vegetarian once and for all. I told her this prior to Thanksgiving day. Told Psy-path Aunt the same and pretty much did everything short of tattooing it into the heads of everyone surrounding me. The cousins remembered…the others didn’t. So goes the story as it has for as long as I can remember.

Today was so funny and here’s why: On her way out the door this morning, she’d asked me what I’d like from the store and I told her honestly that I wouldn’t mind some salsa and tea. Salsa is nice and veg*n while tea is a good healthy drink. She swore walking down the street that she would get it and even then I knew that it wouldn’t be here when she came home.

After a few hours, I heard the door open and close with the distinct sound of a paper/aluminium bag rustling. I knew there was no Salsa there. Tortilla chip bags are usually made of plastic around here. At least the ones I like. It sure as heck wasn’t a jar of Salsa sounding like that either. I pegged it as being either a brown paper bag or a bag of her notoriously funky potato chips.

I waited a moment before going out of my protective shield room to say hello and, when I did, she informed me that there was a sandwich waiting for me downstairs. I asked where the Salsa had gotten too and she made a sound of mock sadness, saying that she couldn’t get it. That clued me in to what the low voiced telephone call was: A call to Oriole Pizza for cigarettes. She tries to placate her guilt at wasting spending money on cigarettes there by ordering food along with it and throwing it at me as some sort of bribe peace offering.

Here’s the good bit. Today…was the day. I’d promised myself that, no matter what, I’d not fall into her trap and I didn’t. I said matter of factly that I hoped it wasn’t a fish sandwich. Then I’d reminded her of the same thing I’d been telling her everyday for over a month about me going back to being a full vegetarian. She was beside herself and kept asking me if I really meant it and if I were going to eat the sandwich. When I’d shaken my head “No” for the twentieth time, she admitted that she knew full well what I’d said but said she didn’t have enough for the salsa.

Enter “The Lie”.

In order to get a delivery for an order from most takeaway places around here, you’ve got to make a minimum order price. It ranges anywhere from $7.00USD up to $15.00USD and, in most establishments that serve pizza, you can also buy cigarettes. This is where the $5.00USD lie blows up to really be a $20.00USD truth. What she’d really had was $20.00USD but bought two packs of cigarettes, a soda, and a fish sandwich (maybe two at the most) leaving her with enough money for transportation costs on the bus. She had more than enough to get the things she actually needs for the house (forget about me and the salsa) but she instead chose to buy cigarettes and junk.

I laughed. It’s of no importance to me anymore. I’m moving out ASAP so, beyond having to pay for her debts via the late bills, I have no interest in what she does to herself or her finances. I hope she appreciates the contribution I’m making to this household while I’m here though. She’s going to have to correct for it once I am gone and, if she doesn’t, she’ll be SOL.

Soup Verses Stew

When I cook, I do my level best to cook for health and sensitivity to the digestive system. I do this mainly because I get pains so bad when eating that I’m often doubled over with pain for hours up to a full day depending on the heaviness of what I eat. As you can guess, most of what I cook is lighter in weight and I rarely go for heavy stuff such as fries, greasy food, or other things I know will cause me pain.

Yet, when I finish cooking these delectible dishes (’cause I can cook), they somehow manage to boil down to an unrecognizable monstrosity bearing little resemblance to anything I could ever have had nightmares about.

Enter my mother. She cannot cook and will not accept this fact.

If I turn my back for even five seconds, the heat under the pot goes from a gentle simmer to a full on boil…just to evaporate as much water out of the pot as possible. What were once tender noodles turn into mushed up mash. Once fresh vegetables: celery, carrots, onions, etc get boiled out of all recognition as anything other than some otherworldly gray porridge. No real reasoning goes into this culinary sabotage except that she “likes thick stews”.

What she fails to get is that it was never intended to be a “stew” in the first place.

Why I am even bothering right now is beyond me. I know I have to eat something of more substance than the tea I’ve been drinking these past few days. I sure as hell am not going to go through the pain I went through when I ate the fries. I was to the point where I actually passed out from the pain. Ow. Not happening again.

So we’re left with yummy…delicious…thin…”I’m hiding it rather than let it get ruined”…soup. And bread. I’m making bread to go with it.

Cornrows – Hair Woes

For the love of all that is living! Would someone please cornrow my hair for me? It’s still too short to make really thick braids, so I’m effectively SOL as I have no dexterity in making the smaller braids. With the medications I take, my hands shake waaaaay too much.

Please…take pity on me….I beg of you….I’m being threatened with a straightening comb and a manic mother set on sizzling my hair out of existence. That’s when I’m not doing Agent 86 worthy feats to avoid the Dark & Lovely Perm Squad.

Heeeeeeeeeeelp!

Editing Life

Edited the CSS for the Metablog to widen the columns…only to discover that I do indeed write “that much”.

I need a life…

A Quote Of My Own…Dang

A Question Mark is the best friend of a free society and the worst enemy of a closed society. ~KaliTime Camaralzman~

I’m not sure if this is good or bad that I’m coming up with my own quotes. Personally, I like it.

Human Definitions

I’ve been goofing off on 43things again and going through the various topics in my goals list made me remember a lot of random things about my childhood.

When I was a kid, I had my own terminology for the way I was feeling.

When asked about what kind of marriage I wanted to have, I was honest and said that I wanted a polygamouspolygynouspolyandrous marriage. Yeah, really the whole thing together. I think I was about ten or eleven when that one came out. Keep me away from Dictionaries…

When asked about why I always raised my hand when “the boys” were asked to do something, I piped up that I was just as capable and in fact even more so than most of them. I was then asked why I didn’t just accept my gender and I explained that I shouldn’t be either defined or judged based on what others see. I went into this long flowing speech about how it’s no more right to judge based on things like gender than it is to judge on color or religion. Elementary school again…

This got the “You’re a girl. Stop acting like that.” comment from more than a few people and when I asked them what they meant, none of them could really define why they thought I was not in step with what they believed a girl should act like but they were…frightened…cautious…perturbed…by it nevertheless.

It eventually came down to conversations like this:

Them: What are you?
Me: “Me.”
Them: What do you mean “Me”? What do you want to be? You act like a boy and you look like a girl.
Me: So what?
Them: What are you? An “It”?
Me: Okay, if it will make you feel better, I’ll be an “It”.

This usually ended with me laughing my ass of and them wandering of in a fog of confusion. Even before I knew a thing about gender ambiguity, genderqueer, etc. I was like this. Why it all seemed so fluid at such an early age is unknown to me. I am glad I had the balls to speak up about it rather than let myself get so slammed down that I’d be unable to move without someone else telling me what to do.

It’s kind of nice to see others out there who, like me, have felt this way. Last time I checked, I was a Human being. Everything else is inconsequential.

Shania

“The main purpose of life is: To have a job in whose purpose you can believe; To have friends whose immediate purposes you can trust; To have some spot on earth to which you can return as home; To be at the same time a citizen of a larger world.”
- James A. Michener

This one makes a lot of sense. My long term aim is to acheive as much of it as possible.

A Quotation

I ran across this one while perusing my 43places page:

I met a lot of people in Europe. I even encountered myself.
- James Baldwin

I love this one almost as much as I love the legend of James Baldwin. He’s one of the few dead people I wish I could have met.