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Beep bop boop bop. May 19, 2006

Posted by brianna in Verbosity.
2 comments

I had eight hours to write this, but chose to work and knit and stare off into space instead. I am a champion procrastinator, I suppose. So, now, at this very moment, I am sitting in a restaurant drinking an iced latte and waiting for my breakfast. It’s 7:29 am. (I say this because I am writing this in word as this restaurant does not have a happy stray internet connection for WordPress to play with). A song featured on Bridget Jones’s diary came on the radio, and now I have a desperate craving for that movie, which I will watch immediately after arriving home, after throwing open the curtains to see the water all cloaked in fog and rain and abandoning my shoes and pantyhose.

I arrived in Maine in horrible weather after 14 hours of driving (From Pennsylvania, visiting my sister. The whole drive from Florida took three days minus visiting), at 2:30 am. I went right to work. Because I am awesome. The hotel is just as I remember it, minus landscaping. It’s so good to be back – already I’ve wandered over town and eaten at my favorite breakfast places. This particular breakfast place is quite neat – little stuffed cats everywhere, a staircase on which there is a fish tank, local art and newsclips on the walls, color everywhere. Day before last I stopped at a different restaurant and marveled at their fantastic bookcase filled with books sorted by color. Love it. There are so many lovely eating places here, and the focus tends to be on healthy food, even, so I don’t feel guilty for my splurges.

Speaking of splurges, another benefit of being back in town are the numerous yarn shops calling me from around the island. Oh, the yarn. I don’t really need more yarn, but I bought it anyway in celebration of finishing a hat and a pair of socks and a half of a pair of socks. Four pairs of potential socks came home with me. (I feel this is the most boring, utilitarian entry I have ever typed, a laundry list of activities, but a laundry list of things /happened/ so I might as well list them!) Right now I’m playing with a quirky cotton blend that reminds me of melted crayons, but my favorite is a wool/silk blend that reminds me of dragonflies…purples and greens vividly splashed all over. I saw it and it was /expensive/, but I wanted it very much! So, now it is mine.

While I was at the second yarn shop (my favorite), I was playing show and tell, as the pair of socks I’d finished were knit from their yarn. I also brought out some curly handspun to show. And they bought it. I was stunned – this is the first handspun I’d ever sold. Coincidentally, my entire yarn stash was still in my car, and I dug around and pulled out the Romney skeins I’d finished recently, along with a little skein of green fuzzy/bumpy kitchen sink yarn I had no plans for…and they bought those, too! So, though I spent $90 on yarn, I made $70 by selling it. It tickles me to think that someone I don’t know will walk in, and perhaps see my yarn and know just what it should be, and pay for it and knit it into something I will never see. To give something a life beyond you is an incredible thing with any craft…to know someone else will value the tool you made, the bread you baked, the hat you knit. A stranger saw in those objects the same value you did in making them and paid for them and will now use them for their own mysterious purposes. I enjoy imagining what they might turn into…a felted bag, an interesting hat, a fantastic scarf? Or, perhaps just displayed…souvenir yarn to squish and admire. Perhaps they’re wondering about me, contemplating the spinner – why did I choose these colors? What did I use to spin it? How long did it take? Did I have a vision? Lovely things to daydream about.

I managed to see every member of my family this trip – I went to Trivia night with my dad, took my mom to dinner and Starbucks and gave her presents, hung out with my brother, saw my sister and took her to dinner and saw where she was living and her workplace. It was nice – I’m the only person who gets along with all members of my family, so it’s useful to touch base with everyone. I snapped pictures of my sister with my phone and sent them around – my father hasn’t seen her in a year! Thankfully, everyone is doing well, and my kitties are doing well, and there were no real unpleasant situations to deal with.

It’s so grey here right now! There was one day of lovely sunshine (the day I went yarn shopping. I knew my shopping expedition was blessed. =) and then…rain, fog, rain /with/ fog, cloudy, cloudy, cloudy. Such is Maine in May. Last year we had 40 straight days of fog! Not everything is open yet, alas, but all my favorite stores are still here, so I’m cheerful. Unfortunately, I’m never in town when they’re open! This year I do not live in town, I live about a 15 minute drive away in Trenton. Thankfully, I have a lovely quiet room on the corner facing the water, and the view is spectacular. I have a private balcony and a nice firm bed, so aside from it being a little chilly, I’ll be quite comfortable. I’ve only had the motivation to unpack my car so far, so my room is strewn with bins and bags of stuff not put away. It’s pretty terrible, but I hate unpacking! I can’t avoid it now, though – I’ll be here for six months and I will not live out of plastic bins for six months! I would go insane. So, hopefully with the correct application of bouncy music and caffeine I will feel like folding and stowing and stacking and organizing and making things feel like home. Hopefully.

It’s so nice how everything is coming together. Summers never fail to delight me these days – my job was here waiting for me and people seemed genuinely happy to see me, and have me back in my old position. My second job starts on the 26th, and I have my schedule worked out and settled with my coworker. People remember me, and I’ve already been invited to gallery openings, spinning groups, dinner meetings and movies. My favorite yarn shop wants to sell my yarn, and my room has an inspiring view. So, lately I’ve been driving around being delighted with myself – somehow I managed to draw all these threads together and form something fun and pleasing and truly enjoyable. I’m still left feeling a bit rootless, though – especially with my room in disarray and the grey skies and the silent sounds on the other end of the phone. Bad days make me wonder where this is going – this life thing I’m working on…will I drift back and forth forever? I enjoy my job, but is it a job or a career? If this is a career…what about all those other musings I’ve had over the years? Should those be given up, clung to, altered? It feels like I have one foot on either side of a doorway and can’t decide what room I should walk into, but by hovering in indecision I’m keeping myself from doing a hundred other things available in either room. I’m just scared of that door closing, of making a mistake and choosing the wrong thing and never being able to get that back.

I suppose that’s the final descent into adulthood – choosing a room. The permanence draws me in and scares me all the same. My own house, my own couch and door and closet and quirky floors and strange neighbors draw me one way – constant internet connection! Never driving twenty four hours straight ever again! My own permanent phone line! But then…there’s the scary dark things drifting around – economic insecurity, making rent, property taxes, things falling apart and having no-one to call, robberies and fires and floods. Just thinking about dealing with it all – especially the money and job considerations – makes me feel a little dizzy and ill. But until I settle somewhere, aren’t I just pretending at this stuff? Imagining myself some sort of independent person, but running away from all those hallmarks of maturity others treasure – an address, a phone number, mailmen and a neighborhood watch and assorted keys? I don’t know. I crave those things and run away from them at the same time, and it’s all very confusing.

A little voice in my head says facing my fears and just plopping somewhere is the most mature decision, but a slightly louder little voice tells me that this moving life is just as valid an option and I really shouldn’t feel slightly guilty about it at all. Traditional life is changing…and who knows, perhaps this modern nomad thing is the next hot lifestyle, along with green living and co-ops in Manhattan?

Let’s dwell on that thought. Who knows, next year I might figure out a way to work all summer and travel all winter, and then what an interesting life this will be!

Short vocabulary desires. May 6, 2006

Posted by brianna in Verbosity.
2 comments

'Skilled' should be a verb.

As in 'I totally skilled that landing.'

'Look at this hat I made! I skilled it, totally'

'I skilled that geography test. I even knew where Iraq is!'

Skilled – To do very well at. Perhaps, to do the best ever at.

An awesome word. Use it. Share it with your friends.

Push upstairs. May 4, 2006

Posted by brianna in Verbosity.
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I always seem to type here at work.

It isn’t because I don’t /like/ typing excessive verbiage at home. But, there are so many other distractions there…the TV is on and I might be listening to music and also knitting while trying to clean up a little and find my other sock, and among all this setting out thoughts in sentences and paragraphs completely slips my mind. So, here I am at work, typing at long last.

You did see the title of this thing? There is a good reason it is called ‘Eventually’. Because, if it seems I’ve dropped off the face of the earth…well, eventually something new will be posted. It’s the word of my life.

So, I seem to have developed some sort of life in the last two weeks. How ironic – I find friends and activities right as I’m packing and getting ready for a move. Just two days ago, I had three phone calls! Three! From three seperate people, none of which were my family! It was fantastic and unusual and I was delighted. This has never before happened to me ever in my life (which is really a little sad, if you dwell on it. I try not to.). All at once I have plans on evenings and things to do and people to ramble on to. It’s novel, but it does have the side effect of idle fingers – when I talk to people on and on, the need to type things on and on diminishes, until it’s been so long I feel guilty for not typing and start putting it off.

I know, the solution for not typing is to continue to not type? My mind is very strange.

I also worry about it being so long that nothing I type will make any sense and be interesting. I recently realized that I was completely missing the point and trying to write for an audience (Of, like, three people. But still.), when the initial purpose of this thing was to set out my day for Someone’s perusal in quiet moments – and if someone should happen across it, too, that’s fine. So here I am telling you about my three phone calls and my packing! Too often I think I lose the initial point of things and end up abandoning them – I really need to examine this more closely. Especially in writing – I begin because my head is full, and then stop because I feel it isn’t ‘good enough’, when personal writings need no common thread or plot or particular profficiency, unless you’re attempting to market them or sell them in a book or otherwise alter their reason for existing from ‘for me’ to ‘for a mass audience’. Simply posting them in public is not enough of a reason for requiring technical perfection and riveting prose, as nice as that might be to strive for. So, I will strive, but I will not demand, and hopefully more and more will find its way here, no matter how trivial.

I’ve had a very busy time lately – only one work-free day in two weeks! Three people are leaving, and the whole front desk is a little short staffed. I was sent here specifically to fill in when needed, so I’ve volunteered for more hours, and while the money is nice I’m starting to feel a little tight around the eyes and a little stretched and fuzzy mentally. The long upcoming drive will do me good, as much as I’m dreading the lead up – car fixing and packing and re-arranging and finding a place for the cats and so forth. I bought an iPod (lovely thing), so now I have hours and hours of driving music at my fingertips.

It /will/ be nice to start out a summer with money in the bank. I’ve gotten so used to that ‘winter layoff’ feeling that driving north with enough money for gas and food is exciting and novel.

I finished my big-little project involving the cashmere yarn pictured some weeks ago, and am preparing it for its long journey. I also owe someone a hat before I leave, but made a mistake in it and had to unravel a good two inches. I wasn’t very pleased at that, but I refuse to gift something with a glaring obvious mistake – it will always annoy me, knowing someone is wearing something and advertising my absentmindedness! (Even if they never noticed. I’m just picky like that). I would have brought said hat to work today to knit furiously on…but, alas, I can’t find it anywhere in my room. I have no idea where its wandered, my last clear recollection of it was bitterly ripping out to the mistake and picking up all the stitches. I know it’s there somewhere…I just wish I knew where! In lieu of that, I brought a sock in today. I’m finished with the heel (the nicest heel I have /ever/ turned, it’s simply beautiful) and am at the very easy cuff portion, where I just knit around and around and around absentmindedly until I feel it’s long enough to stop. It’s great traveling knitting, really – small enough to carry around, mindless enough to pull out at work without worrying about dropping stitches or missing yarnovers. The yarn is lovely and I’m not tired of it yet, which bodes well for the second sock! (I’ve yet to finish two seperate sock projects – imagine spending hours and hours making one thing, and turn turning around…and making the exact same thing. You see the dilemma.) I wound up three hanks of sock yarn at the yarn store, too, so I shouldn’t be wanting for sock yarn for the rest of my life. I also wound 1010 yards (that’s alot. It took me an /hour/) of laceweight angora/silk yarn. I have no idea what I’m going to knit with this. Part of me wants to embark on a lace-knitting adventure and do something complex and lovely and set it aside should I ever get married (How lovely would that be? The wearing handknit lace at your wedding, I mean. I’m overly sentimental.), or…I don’t know, some other big occasion when a white lace veil/shawl might be appropriate. The other part of me is terrified of knitting with it and wants me to just leave it in the ball and look at it longingly. But I should probably finish my socks and a hat and the sweater before I start on a Fantasy Lace Extravaganza, I think!

You probably skipped over that whole paragraph. =)

I am now sitting here drinking a fancy coffee and trying to remember all the different things I wanted to write about, and coming up blank. A lovely guest bought me a fancy coffee a bit ago, and that made me happy for a whole shift, which was splendid. I bought a fantastic skirt on sale and am still tickled about it. I’m plotting a package to send somewhere, and the planning makes me smile, even though I likely won’t do half the things that I think of because of practicality and finances and also a touch of sheer laziness!

Still, more and more I feel like myself, versus a lost person trying to construct a sense of self with bits and pieces of hobbies and opinions and habits. I knock this about often, but it really is remarkable to ‘wake up’ in the middle of the process and realize it’s happening and enjoying it.  At first, I was simply struggling along by myself, questioning every habit I was conscious of – did I like this music because he liked this music? Am I wearing this because I think I should or because I want to? Why do I walk like this? How do I stand? Now I find that I feel more at home in myself, more familiar with my mind, and with that, more willing and even eager to make changes. I found myself in my room too often? I forced myself to make flesh and blood friends, and discovered it wasn’t nearly so awkward or exhausing as I’d thought. I was dissapointed with myself for surrounding myself with materials and then doing nothing with them, so I forced myself to complete some projects, and have completed a few yarns and an intensive much-planned gift, half a sock and most of a second hat. And it’s simple progress and basic progress, but it gives me hope, and confidence, and that builds into a happier Brianna, who has felt the sad approaching and managed to fight it off. And even if the sad comes again, I know it will eventually end (there’s that word again), and will end sooner if I force myself to do and complete and work and talk and surround myself with all those things that keep me occupied and busy and complete.

And now, I need to find a title, and continue knitting and finish my coffee and perhaps do a little dance here behind the desk. Because that’s just fun to do sometimes.