1) Lost my cell phone and therefore all my phone numbers
2) Replaced my cell phone and attempted to get everyone's numbers again
3) Had to completely reset my cell phone because it had some error or another. Lost everyone's phone numbers again.
Before that I have lost cell phones in the sewers of Boston, cabs, bars, and managed to get an iPhone to completely crap out on me though I still have absolutely no idea how. I once dropped my phone down four stories, but it managed to survive completely unscathed.
Last night I knocked my newly reset Blackberry into the toilet.
Yes, I am that awesome.
It works...sort of...and should be fine in a few days, but it doesn't make it any less annoying that I dropped my G-D phone in the toilet.
When Seth and I visited California last year and his mother asked me what I did in my spare time, it became apparent that drinking beer and watching television on the internet is not really a hobby. It also became very clear that this was not something I could tell his mother. I could have told her that I blogged, but I can imagine a lot of things I would like more than Seth's mother reading my blog. Getting a bikini wax comes to mind.
I thought about my lack of a hobby for a disturbing amount of time. Months were spent dwelling on the fact that I didn't have a hobby rather than going out and getting one.
But then I quit my job and my life completely changed. A friend who lives in the neighborhood I now work in mentioned that my job was really close to one of her favorite crafting shops. I had no idea what she was talking about, but while walking around the neighborhood discovered The General Store and knew immediately what she was talking about. You guys, I fell in love.
It was November and I realized that if I learned to knit when I was nine I could learn again. (I made no mention [to myself or anyone else] of the fact that I got bored of knitting within a few days and only got through three inches of a scarf.) I decided right there in the store that I was going to make handmade presents for people and called my best friend. When the phone rang I asked her what her favorite color was. After some deliberation with herself she decided on red. So I bought some really nice yarn, some knitting needles, and headed to my mother's house.
(For those of you who don't know - my mother is a great knitter. She knit me sweaters throughout my childhood, gifted sweaters to family members, and made both my father and my grandmother Irish fisherman sweaters with insane cables and patterns that I will be lucky to figure out...ever.)
Anyway, so I headed to my mother's house with my stash and asked her to teach me how to knit again. She got me started, and started to knit a row....and then she got frustrated. Exceptionally frustrated. It had been so long since my mother had knit that she actually forgot how. And that was my first knitting lesson - it is not like riding a bike.
After her frustration she started me over again, showed me how to knit correctly and I was on my merry way. There was only one problem - I kept adding stitches. I was going through yarn at a ridiculous rate, but my scarf wasn't getting any longer, it was only getting wider. I was annoyed, but thanks to the internet learned what I was doing wrong and started over. This was only after leaving the following frantic message for my mother:
"MOM. MOOOOOO-OOOOOOOOOOM. Ugh, why aren't you picking up your phone?? Look, I completely screwed up the scarf, am I allowed to unravel and start over? MOM I AM GETTING REALLY FRUSTRATED. UGH. Call me back."
I waited five minutes before scrapping the whole thing and teaching myself to knit all over again from the internet.
THIS ENTRY IS REALLY BORING.
I'm SORRY.
I'm getting back into the swing of things.
The picture up at the top is a scarf I'm working on for Seth. It was supposed to be a Christmas present, but it didn't really work out. Now I'm aiming for his birthday at the end of February.
I knit this hat over the weekend because I needed to. As in, OMGICOULDNOTSTOP. I literally stayed up too late last night finishing the hat because I had become obsessed with it.
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