the past few days have been really cleansing in a lot of ways. yesterday it rained for the first time in a long time and i spent most of the day either reading dante's "inferno" or sleeping. i walked around outside in a sundress listening to my SG namesake song (the xiu xiu cover of course) and everything smelled like rain and spring and rebirth. had appletinis with natalia and watched seinfeld and family guy episodes and then got to canto XXX out of XXXIV. not bad.
today was beautiful and sunny and cooler, and i got woken up from my weird half-waking dreams by cigarettes. i didn't write any of my paper - instead i knitted a lot and had a pizza-ordering adventure that ended in free pizza and hot buffalo wings from pizza hut, the latter of which can only be described as being awesome.
you know how i said that knitting is addictive in my last entry? it really is. it's also stress-relieving and an amazing procrastination method, as time seems to go by really quickly when you're making the same motions with the yarn repeatedly, with every row. the scarf that i'm making for genevieve's birthday - my first project - is coming along swimmingly. i'd had to start and unravel and restart because i'd drop stitches or make too many stitches or just fuck up in general and make my work look like shit. now, though, the black yarn is actually starting to look like something and i'm impressed with myself. i thought i was knitting-retarded. i suppose not.
knitting also stopped me from making a really angry blog posting because i am sick of being fed romanticized bullshit about love by my friends, unhappy about going back into a world where people haven't even heard of martin buber or jacques derrida or michel foucault or (god(dess) forbid) anton chekhov, much less want to discuss them, dreading packing up and saying goodbye and leaving this horrible academic utopia for three months, debating on whether or not i should write this paper because john moore will not read it anyway, hating everyone that i've ever been emotionally involved with on some level even if i'm friends with them, and...there's the angry post. but i'm okay with all these things, i think. at least for now. i'm knitting!
blah blah, obsessed. back to working my hands and not thinking about anything other than keeping twenty stitches on the needle.
today was beautiful and sunny and cooler, and i got woken up from my weird half-waking dreams by cigarettes. i didn't write any of my paper - instead i knitted a lot and had a pizza-ordering adventure that ended in free pizza and hot buffalo wings from pizza hut, the latter of which can only be described as being awesome.
you know how i said that knitting is addictive in my last entry? it really is. it's also stress-relieving and an amazing procrastination method, as time seems to go by really quickly when you're making the same motions with the yarn repeatedly, with every row. the scarf that i'm making for genevieve's birthday - my first project - is coming along swimmingly. i'd had to start and unravel and restart because i'd drop stitches or make too many stitches or just fuck up in general and make my work look like shit. now, though, the black yarn is actually starting to look like something and i'm impressed with myself. i thought i was knitting-retarded. i suppose not.
knitting also stopped me from making a really angry blog posting because i am sick of being fed romanticized bullshit about love by my friends, unhappy about going back into a world where people haven't even heard of martin buber or jacques derrida or michel foucault or (god(dess) forbid) anton chekhov, much less want to discuss them, dreading packing up and saying goodbye and leaving this horrible academic utopia for three months, debating on whether or not i should write this paper because john moore will not read it anyway, hating everyone that i've ever been emotionally involved with on some level even if i'm friends with them, and...there's the angry post. but i'm okay with all these things, i think. at least for now. i'm knitting!
blah blah, obsessed. back to working my hands and not thinking about anything other than keeping twenty stitches on the needle.
heavyhitterlarry:
how did you end up doing in your russian lit class? i think you posted a blog where you thought you might fail