Archive for February, 2010

Why I Is the Way I Is.

There are a number of reasons why I yam what I yam, which is essentially a person who sits alone in a room and types or yabbers into a telephone. They are as follows:

I Have a Huge Problem with Authority

Seriously. I am like the bad puppy in the obedience class. I want so badly to be good, but in the long run, I can’t really keep my shit together and my trap shut long enough to be a good employee. In today’s economic meltdown, “long enough”=forever. Just. can’t. do. it.

A Corollary to the Above

I really hate hierarchy. It makes me a splendid boss, but a shite worker bee. My favourite boss ever (really, we went out two weeks ago and drank two bottles of wine, and I spent all day that Saturday praying for death) and I used to have room clearing brawls every couple of months. My favourite line from those? “You are in charge, you can have anything you want, but here are the consequences of what you want.” AND, he was a big enough person to listen and take heed, or admit he was wrong after the fact. (However, he was not a boss for the pearl-clutchers of society. Much shouting and swearing, but huge fun, too.) The idea that someone is automatically right because they are the boss makes me crazy. However…

I Am Always Right

Not really, but one of my character traits is that I am extremely decisive. Again, makes me a great consultant. “What should we do?” they ask. And I will almost always have an answer. That I’ll stick by. And apologize for if I’m wrong. I just can’t take the collaborative indecision-waffle-blah that is “teamwork”.

I Hate Inefficiency

Some people love going to work and hanging out with their colleagues, sharing bits of their lives, chatting in the coffee room, taking long lunches and breaks. I am the SWAT team commando of work. Go, get in, do your task, get out. You know what sounds like hell to me? One of those hip technology workplaces with free espresso and a chill out lounge.  I’ll chill at home, thankyouverymuch. Makes for a pathological inability to put in an 8 hour day when there is only 2 hours of work to do. However, if you need someone to work for 16 hours straight to get something of vital importance done, I am your woman.

I Am (Essentially) Ambitionless

Titles? Feh. Perks? Pay me enough to supply my own, thanks. Desire to be master of many? Yawn. I know a few people who do what I do who are creepily focused on being the best! ever! in the field. Holy crap, their Twitter feed is BORING. I also know a few people who do what I do who are killing themselves to afford their downtown office space and their multiple assistants.  My ambition is to have enough money and time to go to Mexico City this summer for two weeks. And to keep walking the dog around the lake every day. And to finish knitting that damn sweater. Not likely to win me fame or fortune.

Damn. Guess I’ll just keep on the way I am. But, if you have any ideas on how to support myself by dinking around in the basement, let me know, ‘kay?


February 24, 2010 at 3:15 pm Leave a comment

The Great Gauge Accident of 2009

Enough time has now passed that I may speak of the great gauge accident of 2009 without crying.

I wanted a chunky, outdoorsy, instead-of-a-coat sort of sweater. For me. Elann had a big sale on Rowan Scottish Tweed Chunky. I got the colour I wanted (Herring). I had finished my Christmas knitting. I was a happy woman, making an easy, breezy sweater for herself.

Oh, it’s a cinch to knit a top-down sweater without a pattern, they said. Just measure your gauge, do a little math, and away you go.


Exhibit the first:

Here is a man with a 50 inch chest, wearing a 53 inch sweater. Fie on your math and gauge swatching, I says.

Okay. I might have panicked and cast on a few too many stitches at the pits (six, so 2 inches). But really, this should have worked. The gauge is right, the math is right. But I tried it on and it was ridiculous. Then I blocked it.

The colour is lovely, though. Exhibit the second:

Look at them funky little flecks of colour. Also, Mr. Dame, cheer the hell up. YOU didn’t spend a month knitting this stupid sweater.

Pattern: Classic Raglan Pullover by Barbara Walker
Rowan Scottish Tweed Chunky, 8 balls of Herring
Needles: US 10.5  circs. To add insult to injury? My Knitpicks Harmonies popped out of the metal collar that holds the needley part in, and I had to borrow the most hideous needles from my mum. The cable could CUT you.
Made for: Mr. Dame (accidentally).

Coming next? The Hoodie of Repentance.

February 8, 2010 at 7:31 pm 2 comments

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