(no subject)
My friends, I believe I have reached a turning point in my knitting life.
As some of you may know, Stitches West is in town this weekend. Hundreds of yarn shops, all converging in one place... and I don't think I'm going to go. It's such an odd sensation. You all know that my love of yarn is second only to my love of Dave, at this point. Yarn is life. And yet...
(A true confession? I am secretly relieved at not going. In the end... yarn is yarn. And money is money. And I've gotten far stingier with one of those items since entering the real world.)
(Another, even worse confession? I am thinking of going instead to the craft store and getting Caron Simply Soft for more charity baby knitting. I am actually more excited at the prospect of this than of Stitches. Wild but true.)
I went out yesterday and bought a new spring jacket, a new dress that fits a me who is fourteen pounds lighter since college, but still not quite high school weight, and a delicious brown sweater. And I feel horrible about it. They are all good wardrobe-update pieces that will last me a long time, but it's this horrible feeling of spending money. It's like every dollar I spend in life is a dollar I could have saved to get the hell out of here. Which I suppose is accurate, but it's getting to the point where I am having major guilt over parking fees (should have walked two miles!) and cups of tea from the tea shop (it's leaves! leaves should be free!) They say the 80s are coming back into style - does this mean I can just wear all my mom's clothes from the 80s? Because she's still got them, and they'd definitely be free.
I suspect I might feel differently were I already out on my own. I don't know that it's the money so much as the threat of never having enough money to leave home. Were I gone already, I might be poor as anything, but at least I would be sure I wasn't still living at home, you know? That's what this summer was like. We ate spaghetti and frozen veggies and some suspicious cuts of meat, and I wore through a couple pairs of old shoes walking everywhere (and not spending money to repair my shoes), and we were deliriously happy. And I was even still buying yarn then.
As some of you may know, Stitches West is in town this weekend. Hundreds of yarn shops, all converging in one place... and I don't think I'm going to go. It's such an odd sensation. You all know that my love of yarn is second only to my love of Dave, at this point. Yarn is life. And yet...
(A true confession? I am secretly relieved at not going. In the end... yarn is yarn. And money is money. And I've gotten far stingier with one of those items since entering the real world.)
(Another, even worse confession? I am thinking of going instead to the craft store and getting Caron Simply Soft for more charity baby knitting. I am actually more excited at the prospect of this than of Stitches. Wild but true.)
I went out yesterday and bought a new spring jacket, a new dress that fits a me who is fourteen pounds lighter since college, but still not quite high school weight, and a delicious brown sweater. And I feel horrible about it. They are all good wardrobe-update pieces that will last me a long time, but it's this horrible feeling of spending money. It's like every dollar I spend in life is a dollar I could have saved to get the hell out of here. Which I suppose is accurate, but it's getting to the point where I am having major guilt over parking fees (should have walked two miles!) and cups of tea from the tea shop (it's leaves! leaves should be free!) They say the 80s are coming back into style - does this mean I can just wear all my mom's clothes from the 80s? Because she's still got them, and they'd definitely be free.
I suspect I might feel differently were I already out on my own. I don't know that it's the money so much as the threat of never having enough money to leave home. Were I gone already, I might be poor as anything, but at least I would be sure I wasn't still living at home, you know? That's what this summer was like. We ate spaghetti and frozen veggies and some suspicious cuts of meat, and I wore through a couple pairs of old shoes walking everywhere (and not spending money to repair my shoes), and we were deliriously happy. And I was even still buying yarn then.