Physics at Work

This week has been a study in things-taking-longer-than-I-planned. The charting of my motif for Islamic art goes slowly. The leveling to 70 in World of Warcraft even slower, although I suppose it's a good thing those 2 things are in that particular order. Shows I'm making some progress in Life, instead of video games I guess! Tonight we head to Conrad and Kate's house for Italian food, wine and Wii. But today, oh, today I opened my front door and discovered a package that contained this:
Seven skeins of bare sock yarn and 50g of silk/merino gloss in Chestnut from Knitpicks.com. I swear, the neighbors must think I've gone crazy. I jumped up and down, hugged that plastic package and danced a little jig from sheer anticipation of playing with color.








I have been a dancer all my life, and I think the sparkles and bright rainbow costumes have worn off on me. Sometimes I stand in front of Unit 1's Closet-o-Fabric and just drink in the reds, blues, greens and yellows. She is also a consummate gardener, so there has always been gorgeous color in my life. So is it any wonder the desire to create my own lovely color combinations has been marinating? I speed-cleaned the kitchen, grabbed my shoebox full of Kool-Aid and set to work (note the necessary liquor and chocolate - a girl's gotta have her fix!).

Soon my yarn was percolating away in Jer's beer-making stockpot:

Do you see the physics problem I created for myself? Not having 3 jars of similar heights, one is much shorter than the others. So the yarn kept sucking up liquid from the taller jars and siphoning it to the lower one. So until I get another jar of the proper height, I think I'll stick to 2 colors.

At the end of the dying frenzy, I am left with only 4 packets of Black Cherry Kool-Aid and these gems:I must say, I'm quite proud of them. They make notions and dreams fly about my brain, and it's difficult to keep from making Grand Schemes and Things. But I'm trying!

Spring Break, baby! Woo!

My midterms are over! I breathed a sigh of relief and headed off, prepared to begin a rockin' spring break of work and video games. I know, exciting right? But brace yourselves, I may get wild this week and actually go outside. Hmm, maybe not. The only disadvantage I can see to having friends who are actually brown - instead of just from a brown-people sort of country but actually pasty and freckle-free - is that no one will lay by the illusion pool and worship Ra with me. Otherwise, you guys are great. I love the food, the warmth, the flash-in-the-pan emotions, all of it. But seriously... if one could only go to the beach! A little sun-bathing would set me up forever. And Mrs. Bennet I think would agree.

So remember My Very First Sock? I frogged it. And re-started it. But the pattern is a divisible-by-four pattern and I wanted a K2P1 rib, which (as my l33t math skillz soon informed me) is NOT divisible by 4. So I re-worked everything and created my own pattern, which is its own special brand of challenging. Then I realized that the self-patterning yarn I have isn't quite the right stuff to show off my genius First Sock pattern, what with the baby cables and the ribbed heel and all. I've made it all the way to the point where I have to pick up the stitches for the gusset, and I'm quite proud of myself. I think I may even use the pattern again!

Spring break in my world has never been a very exciting time. I'm usually too broke to go anywhere that involves flashing cameras or really anywhere that involves spending money. This year is no exception, but this time I'm doing it on purpose. That's right, #41 on my 101 in 1001 list starts in 2 hours and 27 minutes. I am going to go this entire week of spring break without spending any money, and it is going to suck. But I've set myself up for success; I have a full tank of gas, milk in the fridge and coffee both at home and at work, knitting projects to last me and a Netflix account to keep me occupied in case I should get bored catching up on Battlestar Galactica (uh huh, like that'll happen). I also have twice as many hours at work as usual this week, which is awesome. The only thing I am going to be lenient about is buying my plane ticket to Michigan for Erick's graduation; I've been waiting for my tax return to be deposited into my bank account, and if I don't get the ticket this week I'll be under the 30-day mark and I won't be able to afford it at all.

Assuming I can get at least one thing done per day - and some days two things (don't look so shocked) - I'm listing 10 things I'd like to finish before next Monday. So without further ado, here is the Spring Break List of Demands:
1. Starting Monday, do not spend any money for 1 week (not including plane ticket or bills automatically deducted from bank account).
2. Get laundry situation under control. White socks do not look good with black shoes!
3. Begin ARTH 175 paper, due April 10.
4. Begin ARTH 183C project
4a. Scan and print stitch descriptions
4b. Chart motif
4c. Pull colors/linen from stash
4d. Begin stitching (outlines first?)
5. Finish My Very First Socks. Or at least *almost* finish them, because the 52-Pair Plunge begins April 1. I'm not above stacking the deck in my favor, especially with Spring Break Demands 4 and 7 on the books!
6. Kool-Aid dye first set of KnitPicks yarn
7. Choose a topic for ARTH 185B paper, or design a project. One fewer paper to write will be a blessing come May, I'm sure.
8. Finish tearing apart, washing and skeining RUS's.
9. Get to 70 in World of Warcraft (yes, I said video games! What?!?)
10. Catch up on Battlestar Galactica.

Seems reasonable when I put it on virtual paper like that. Sweet.
And now I'm going to go work on my socks. Expect a pattern after I've made a few!

Deconstructionism is an art term...

...practiced by knitters everywhere. But first!

I rocked my Islamic Art midterm. The professor was sick with a horrible flu last week and as a result didn't feel like creating a huge test, so there were only 10 (of an original 50+) images to define. Thanks to my super-stressful cramming techniques, I knew all 10 pretty much spot-on. Go me. She also gave me the go-ahead on reproducing a piece of embroidery from Marianne Ellis' Ottoman Embroidery, so all that's left for my term project is to choose, design and make the thing. I'm going to make an effort not to bite off more than I can chew, as per my usual modus operandi.

In a fit of celebratory... celebration, I stopped at Goodwill and bought some Ridiculously Ugly Sweaters. RUS buying is tricky, because the yarn cannot be heinous - only the construction of the sweater. All in all, I came out with four selections: an ivory angora blend, a white-and-gold cotton/acrylic, a forest green 100% lambswool and a cranberry red cotton. We'll see how they deconstruct; I think the sparkly yarn will go into the stash for sock embellishment and the rest will go onto eBay for some pin money if I can get Darcy to relinquish them.

Speaking of socks, mine is a sad, pathetic, bagging-at-the-ankle monstrosity that might possibly drive me mad. I scoured knitty.com today for sock patterns, which led me into a bright, shiny, devlish world of yarns and techniques, each one making my poor saggy sock seem more and more unbearable. So tomorrow I will venture to the LYS to buy a set of 00 DPN's and bid this incarnation of sockdom farewell. Again with the biting-off-of-more-than-we-can-chew theme...

Darcy says:

"I do not look ridiculous. Go about your business, human!"

The Heeling

I'm so punny. Moving on.

Today is gorgeous and sunny and lovely in the South Bay. This is the view off our apartment's back porch - I love trees in bloom. (The netting keeps the kittens from getting off the deck and works until Darcy uses his alien skills to find a hole, the little creep.) I discovered a set of knitters via Sock Pr0n (who has become one of my knitting heroes, BTW), went to the Pre-Midterm Lecture in my Roman Art class only to discover that the midterm has been bumped one more day - hurrah for reprieve! - and actually did study for my Islamic Art midterm a bit. All those beautiful but hard-to-pronounce words are swimming through my head, along with images of octagonal tombs and brick-and-tile work. Islamic art is so different from western art, it sometimes boggles my mind. I've been searching for the perfect piece for my term project - something not difficult to embroider but still lovely, and I've become enamoured of the arabesque designs and beautiful textiles that have been passed down through the centuries. The wheels are turning, if ever-so-slowly.

In other news, I've been listening to Craft Lit and playing with My First Sock instead of studying, but at least I'm not playing World of Warcraft. Not that it's bad - it's quite entertaining and has filled most of my free time for 2+ years now - but I decided last week that I wouldn't play video games until after midterms, which end a week from today. I'm curious to see how much I can accomplish. Anyway, last night I turned my first heel! Jer came home in the middle and took great delight in my Milton-like muttering to myself: "purl ten, purl two together, he said I could play music at a reasonable volume, slip and turn, I'll burn this place to the ground, knit eleven..." I sounded like a maniac I'm sure, but at the end of the night, there it was - a respectably turned heel.

Darcy was proud and cheered me on from his favorite spot on the couch. I think I see some of his alien workings back there, but I can't be sure without further proof.

Visual Puns and Socks

My stomach has been roiling since I got to work at the Ass-Crack of Pre-Dawn, and I'm tired of it. Usually my cure-all for tummyaches is to take a nap, but I have shit to DO, people! And it's 6pm, so if I took a nap now I'd completely screw my sleeping schedule. Damn you, internet for encouraging me in my procrastination!

My good friend Sarah and I hooked up today to sit in the sun with huge sunglasses and dish about men. It was great fun, and I learned several things:

1. Naval officers and former bartenders are not a good mix, marriage-wise.
2. The best way to derail a conversation with a soon-to-be/already/formerly married person is to bring up wedding plans.
3. I don't brown as quickly as some of my more olive counterparts, for which I am grateful.

But alas, while dishing gossip with Sarah is one of my favorite things (missed you girl, glad you're back around!), I must still head to the homework with a heavy heart. Two chapters of History of Islamic Art to cover tonight. So overall, I'd say the day is a wash so far, what with my Islamic class being canceled, tea with Sarah, getting ready to make the first sock part of my sock, versus the tummyache and the studying for a midterm and the self-imposed "no video games till spring break" policy. Why are self-imposed restrictions so much easier to blow off? I'm determined to keep this one.

My First Sock is coming along well and I start the heel today. Pre-heel, it looks much like the tubes my esteemed state senator thinks make up the internet:



Here is how I'm feeling today.








Get it?

Road Trip! (picture heavy)

Several weeks ago, Nadia and I sat down with a calendar and decided that we needed to go visit the Mother Ship.

On the 25th of February, I called the Mother Ship and confessed that I am a daughter of the worst order - her birthday was the 22nd and I was three days late wishing her happy returns of the day. She replied that yes, I am a daughter of the worst order and all her training has clearly gone to waste and by the way, she bought snap-together wood flooring for the great room and since I was a Daughter of the Worst Order, my birthday present to her would be to help her rip up the carpet in the great room and lay down said floor. On my nice, sleepy, wandering-the-Gold-Rush-Town weekend with my citified best friend. Suffice to say I was less-than-pleased, but since I was also contrite, it couldn't be helped.

On Friday, Nadia, myself and all my laundry (free wash/dry at the Mother Ship!) packed into her Mini Cooper and headed to the mountains. Once we got there, we discovered that it was not going to be the weekend for tearing up the floor, and settled in for a weekend of relaxation instead. Ahhh, reprieve! My brother and Nadia went disc golfing on Saturday while Parental Unit 1 and I slipped out to the LYS - a favorite store of mine and one owned by a former coworker of Unit 1's. And there, I accomplished two fabulous things: I started my first pair of socks and I began teaching Unit 1 to knit. Yes, she crumbled like a crumb cake when I started shamelessly shoving chenille and lace into her hands, and as she settled at the unbiquitous craft store table, needles and fresh ball of yarn in her hands, I did a victory lap of the store a la Rocky in case anyone in the county missed my triumph. Then I sat down and taught Unit 1 to knit. I also stashed a bit - triumph in dragging a recalcitrant knitter back into the fold deserves some sort of celebration! - by picking up 750 yards of some lovely worsted something-or-other and adorable, non-splitty yarn so I can start back up on Jenny's baby hat/booties.

Here is My First Sock Yarn, a Meilenweit Safari that Unit 1 picked out (remember the shamelessly enabling part of our mother/daughter relationship? So does my bank account):

And My First Sock!:
Isn't it great, folks? The color in the second photos is much closer - it's more brownish than red. And I am tickled pink, let me tell you.

After that, we spent the rest of the weekend messing about, taking pictures of chickens and flowers:














Unit 1 is a consummate gardener and the light was perfect this weekend, which combined to make me a camera nerd. Plus, the chickens are so fun I just can't help but take pictures of them.



Napoleon is our aptly-named King Rooster:

Unit 1 also has a thing for ridiculous chickens:



I apparently have a thing for cherry-blossom pink and peacock blue:










But Waffles is content to simply supervise the new knitters while I'm outside playing with the camera toy:

Here is the look I got when I returned home with another cat's hair on my collar:

I am properly ashamed of myself. For penance I shall go knit on my new sock. Eeeee!

The Saga of the Scarf

I'm toiling away on my dad's scarf. This week I open three days in a row - today, tomorrow and Friday - which for those not familiar with coffee shop hours means I get up before the sun, at a time commonly known as the Ass-Crack of Pre-Dawn. It also means I have to head to bed around 9pm. Now, way back in my pre-coffeeshop days 9pm was when the evening was just gettin' started, but nowadays it's when I begin to yawn slightly. I'm definitely blaming the coffeeshop and not my ever-increasing desire to just stay home with needles and yarn, listening to audiobooks/podcasts. Lucas once asked me sweetly to not turn thirty-eight before my time, and the request has stuck. I really must try to get out more.

But back to the scarf! I did The Halfway Test today - the test where I hold the needle under my chin and drape the scarf around my neck to see where it falls - and it passed! Just barely, but it passed which is a huge relief because it's all downhill from here! At least this time around, I'm comfortable about the thing. The times before, it itched me wrong; the needles were too big, the pattern too wide, the edges too sloppy and of course, the yarn strangely striped. This time, although one edge is looser than the other, it's relatively well in line. Which is also good, because spring has sprung here in California, and I am dreaming of socks. Yes, socks.

Dear god, I never thought I would want to knit socks when Steve Madden has done such a phenomenal job. I mean, really - why mess with the man's work? But I do want to knit socks, and for this I again blame the afore-mentioned Wendy. And sock pr0n, whose web mistress I have a sneaking suspicion lives sooooomewhere near me in the Bay. Did you SEE her Space Invaders socks on Knitty? The 80's child in me is jumping for joy and whining to make them in knee-highs right now, but my more adult mental voice is chiding the child, saying it's too big a project for her Very First Socks, and that she should perhaps try something ever-so-slightly less difficult, having not only never knitted socks but also never tried stranded work or knit with double-pointed needles or for that matter successfully used a chart, and all those things aside, would she ever really wear them? No, I didn't think so. But I could show them off, and get mad cred with my nerdy friends, yo. Which is really what counts, right?!? Crap. I think I'm going to learn to knit socks, and I think my mother has taken over a part of my brain. Juuuust great. I also have a hankering for this yarn from Pickupsticks. I crack myself up.

Darcy gives the socks two paws up. SETI left a message on my cell phone today, but I don't think I'll call them back quite yet. The kitty paws are too cute to put behind one-way glass, don't you think?

The Projects

First, a finish! I made a (practice) baby hat!

The pattern was a pain in the ass to learn, but once I stopped trying to "fix" it (HAH!) and just worked it the way the book said, it turned out okay. The yarn was splitty and the edges of the piece are less-than-gorgeous, but it's done and will be even cuter with matching booties. Originally I bought a Clover circular needle, but it tried to poke my eye out so I bought an Addi Natura circular needle instead; love at first stitch, let me tell you, and well worth the $15. I haven't worked with circs (as they are apparently called in the biz) much, but this brand is pretty f'in sweet, yo. I think I'll try this little set again with better yarn and see how it goes, since I'm sure as heck not giving THIS flawed gem to anyone. *ahem* My perfectionist is showing.

Faina's Scarf:


This one will be for my mom, who picked out the yarn (Cascade 220 wool) and the pattern last time I visited her. Yea, remember what I said about enabling eachother? Mmhmm. It is by far the most complicated thing I've ever done, and I had to go back to traditional continental-style knitting from Annie Modesitt's combination knitting. I think I'm too noobish to use non-traditional knitting styles, so I'm just going to stick with continental for now, even though I like Modesitt's style better. I need to somehow rig my embroidery stand to hold my knitting chart. Perhaps a clipboard? Hmmm.

Papa's Scarf:
Oh lord. I want to throw the damn thing away; the only thing keeping me from such a drastic measure is that the yarn is gorgeous. Obviously papa's birthday has come and gone, and the scarf remains unfinished. It started like this:


Super-pretty, right? Here's a close-up of the stitch:

But of COURSE I ignored the suggestion of the knitting store lady (always a bad idea. ALWAYS!) and the second skein striped differently from the first. My dad isn't a picky guy - he would love it no matter what - but if I inherited my craftsy inclinations from my lovely mother, I inherited my perfectionist inclinations from my dad. And I know it would have bothered me that his scarf was striped weird. So, I ripped out the WHOLE DAMN THING, toddled to my LYS, where the knitting lady kindly let me re-wind my skeins, and started over with a new pattern:

I've used this pattern before to make my beloved Zig Zag scarf, but I think with the myriad colors in my dad's yarn, the original stitch would look much better. So today when I'm done, I will be ripping the scarf out for what feels like the 50th time to go back to the original pattern. ARGH! I am consoled by how lovely it will be when done, and that the stitch itself isn't ridiculously hard. Whew!

Going along with my quest to document the lives of extraterrestrials on our planet, Mr. Darcy recharged in the sun today:


But then his alien started to show:


It's a good thing he's so loving, otherwise I'd have out-ed him to SETI long ago.

Introducing...

March came into California just like you'd expect: like a lamb. It's about 60 here, I have all the windows and doors with screens open to air out the house. Tomorrow it's supposed to be 65. Hooray! My friend Erick visited for his spring break from UofM in Dearborn, MI. I never remember how nice it is here until someone from the world outside my California bubble arrives to remind me that not all of the country - nay, the world - enjoys the weather and atmosphere we do.

I've finally messed with Jer's snooty camera enough to take pictures of what I'm working on. But first, most of the blogs I frequent have mascots of the feline persuasion, and the delightful furballs who run my apartment have become a bit jealous. Without further ado, here are the Keepers of the Klink:

Kami is a rare and endangered San Jose Brown Gutter Cat. Jer found her, tiny and sick, on his doorstep one day roughly 7 years ago. She has since blossomed into the beautiful tortie you see above. And she is such a tortie, complete with the cantankerous but utterly sweet personality. She curls up on an available lap and watches TV with us.


Mr Darcy is an alien from an unidentified planet, currently observing the human race from a feline perspective. He doesn't sleep, he uploads, and I'm fairly certain the alien race he represents must be preeeeeetty confused by now. I was volunteering at C.A.T.S. in 2001 when he showed up in a box full of short-haired black female kittens who were found abandoned under a freeway. I picked him up, he rolled over onto his back and laid in my arms for 4 hours. I took him home and he's been sleeping at my feet ever since. He doesn't like sitting in laps, but he will settle within about a 10-foot radius of wherever I am in the house.


And them's the felines!

Feeling Craftsy

Ok, 13 months between postings is just too damn long. I've never been good at keeping a diary and I'm equally bad at taking pictures; I've always justified it under the Mae West clause: "Good girls keep journals; bad girls don't have time." And while I may not be a "bad girl," I certainly don't keep up very well with journaling my life. Anyway, one of my "101 in 1001" goals is to keep track of my craftsy activities, so I may as well do it in a blog form. More on the 101 in 1001 later.

I blame my mother for my obsession with craftsy things. Yes, it's a deliberate mis-spelling. Move along. Mom loves textiles and stamping and hobbies that require a lot of stuff, so I picked up the tendency from her. Our craftsy hobbies dovetail nicely together: she quilts, scrapbooks, sews and stamps while I knit, embroider and (occasionally) paint. My point here is that when we're together, we tend to egg eachother on. We'll go to a yarn store and she'll pick out something for me to make for her, then because she's in a craftsy mood we'll stop at the fabric store "just for a minute" and I'll find something I want her to make for me. It's a vicous cycle and ends up with both of us hiding our purchases in the back of the van so my stepdad doesn't give us The Face. Inevitably he finds out we've been shopping, but I try my hardest to make it after I've left for home instead of while I'm there - that way I get The Voice instead, and it's much easier to justify my cravings via phone.

Lately I've been knitting. Like most craftsy things, it looks difficult but is actually easy. Unlike most craftsy things, knitting is easily portable and doesn't take a lot of set-up time. Plus, it makes useful stuff! Sweaters and hats and bags and wee bitty baby booties with matching wee hats in all the colors nature invented (and some she didn't). So far I've collected enough yarn to fill a small set of drawers, planned roughly 50 projects, begun 7 of them and finished 2. I was going to crow over my admirable restraint - smugly picturing my mother's craft room - but then I realized that it's about par on the golf course of my crafting existence. I have roughly 50 embroidery projects, 8 of them started, and 2 completed. So much for being restrained.

I snagged Jer's snooty camera and took pictures of the knitting that's on my needles right now, but for some reason the camera cable isn't working so I'll have to wait for Lizabeth and him to get home from Tahoe to make him fix it. For now, here's the list of projects I have started and plan to finish in this lifetime:

1. Scarf for Papa for his birthday on 3/1 (finish by 2/24)
2. Scarf for Mom for Mother's Day on 5/13 (finish by 5/7)
3. Baby hats and booties for Jenny's baby (Finish ASAP!)
4. Stole for Nadia's Ammi (Mother's Day?)
5. Ravenclaw Scarf for Sioux (someday...)
Everything else I haven't allowed myself to start yet, which is actually admirable restraint on my part, thankyouverymuch.

I need to get one of those nifty little bar graph things that shows the % completed for each project, and maybe learn how to set up a blog a bit so I can put the % bars in a sidebar. Hmm... so much to do, and so little motivation. I think I'll go work on the baby stuff, since I missed Jenny's baby shower yesterday. "I'm sorry I didn't show up" is so much easier to forgive with a hand-made gift accompaniment!

Book Reviews

The Orphan's Tales: In the Night Garden by Catherynne M. Valente

101 in 1001

I got this idea while surfing around for new knitting patterns. I'm a huge fan of lists and have a tendency to make them for stupid reasons, just so I have something to check off at the end of the day. I joined 43 Things and got quickly over whelmed by the sheer number of things I want to do with my life, so I'm hoping this little endeavour will go more smoothly.

I discovered the concept and borrowed categories from Annemarie at Chartreuse Knits. The breakdown of how it works is at Triplux. I'm also snagging Annemarie's idea of putting in some things she has in progress or already plans to do, because choosing 101 brand new things to do in the next 2 1/2-ish years is quite daunting. ::deep breath:: Here we go!

Dec. 2007 Edit: Some of the things on this list are ongoing Self-Betterment Projects, so I can't cross them out until I feel like they've become habits. Some of them need to be re-adjusted to fit in with how my life has changed in the last year. All that aside, I've managed to do several things on this list without referring to it the way I should. As of Dec. 20, 2007, I've completed 12 of my goals, some of which are pretty small and some of which are big, but I'm going to have to do better to finish in a year and a half!

101 Things in 1001 Days

1. Refer back to my 101 things regularly and check them off as they are completed
2. Make a new 101 in 1001 list by September 28, 2009

Learning and Scholarship

3. Maintain a 3.0+ higher GPA beginning with the Spring 2008 semester
4. Finish all lower division classes
5. Study a minimum of 2 hours twice per week during term
6. Finish transcribing 3 terms of mysteriously messy Art History notes (0/3)
7. Attend all classes in the spring 2008 semester (skipping for health/family is ok, skipping for TV is not)
8. Complete notes from Stokstad and Gardener's Art History
9. Complete notes from Hartt's Renaissance text
10. Buy all books one term Spring 08 term
11. Stop being afraid of drawing
12. Learn to ballroom dance
13. Graduate.

Aesthetics/Habit/Health
14. Maintain a healthy weight
15. Take a multi-vitamin and vitamin C daily through one bottle of each
16.
17. Design and find someone to start new tattoo
18. Donate blood 8 times (0/8)
19. Spend a day at a spa
20. Make a list of 100+ things that make me happy.
21. Find a new form of exercise that I enjoy and engage in it 2x/week for 6 months (see #13, may extend beyond end of 1001 days)
22. Walk for 30 minutes 50 times (0/50)

Organization
23. Organize books (Delicious Library or LibraryThings.com)
24. Clean out storage unit
25. Catalogue knitting and embroidery stash. Knitting stash completed via Ravelry in 2007(1/2)

Food
26. Take a class from a Williams/Sonoma store
27. Cook at home 4 days or more per week (warming leftovers count as "cooking") July-Dec 07
28. Learn to make Ammi's Kima by heart (0/2)
29. Create a Friends and Family cookbook with favorite recipes
30. Eat breakfast 4 days or more per week (healthy preferred but just breakfast is a good start) for one semester (1/16 weeks)
31. Try 5 types/nationalities of food I have never tried before (1/5) Types: Jewish

Relationships/Friendships
32. Write 5 letters to friends in 2008 (0/5)
33. Obtain mailing addresses/birthdays for 15 friends (0/15)
34.TBA
35. Write a card to both grandmothers every month for 6 months. Include pictures when possible! (0/6)
36. Throw a dinner party
37. Send Christmas cards
38. Send Thank You cards for Christmas/Birthday gifts
39. Get geneology from mom

Fiscal
40. Save $1000 in savings account
41. Go one week without spending any money Jan 07
42. Pay off one Alaska student loan
43. Finish paying off MBNA loan
44. Buy a car Nissan Sentra, Jan '08

Craftsy
45. Knit a lace shawl Dec 07, Victorian Lace Shawl
46. Knit 5 pairs of socks (5/5)
47. Make a quilt or afghan
48. Knit something for each grandmother VLS for Grandmother A, Seeded Rib for Grandmother M(2/2)
49. Make a box of 10 gifts for spontaneous gift-giving
50. Knit for a shelter or charity Knitters for Obama Veteran Knitting
51. Finish one embroidery project
52. Knit a sweater for myself
53. Complete the 12-Mile Quest
54. Work exclusively from stash for 1 year (may only purchase items needed to complete a project, may extend beyond end date for 101 in 1001)
55. Join TKGA Dec. 08

Shopping
56. Buy flowers just to brighten up the room
57. Buy all new underwear
58. Buy missing seasons of Gilmore Girls (0/5)
59. Buy Warcraft III and expansion
60. Buy a printer
61. Buy chart/kit for Chatelaine Heirloom Chart


Fun/Entertainment
62. Play one video game start-to-finish without hints or cheats
63. Play one computer game start-to-finish without hints or cheats (WCIII?)
64. Attend a Renaissance Faire (dressed up!)
65. Go to a museum 24 times (2/24)
66. Go to a midnight opening for 7th Harry Potter book July 21, 2007
67. Watch all of AFI's 100 Greatest Movies (37/100)
68. Watch all of AFI's Greatest Musicals (17/25)
69. Watch HBO's Rome season 1
70. Catch up on all seasons of a TBD TV show
71. Go to an opera
72. Finish The Canon (0/37) (May read plays instead, but must make serious effort to see them first)
73. See Les Miserablés live
74. See Rent live
75. Marathon all 6 Star Wars movies and mock the newest 3 mercilessly
76. Participate in 26 Things at least once
77. Try out Buffy the Vampire Slayer
78. Watch 100 movies from my Netflix queue 1/100


Travel
79. Get a passport
80. Go to Italy
81. Visit Laurie in San Diego
82. Visit Malia and Shannon in Portland
83. Go on a road trip with Sioux
84. Go on a cruise or to a retreat
85. Leave the country (Italy doesn't count) Mexico Nov. 07
86. Visit the Japanese Tea Garden in SF
87. Visit the Monterey Bay Aquarium

Miscellaneous (and things I didn't categorize because I didn't want to re-number everything!)
88. Pay for the person behind me at the toll booth Regularly in 2007
89. Get a spinning wheel
90. Read 50 books to be determined (8/50) Begin keeping track again in Jan. 08
91. Find 3 new-to-me authors and read everything they've written (0/3) Working on Stephenson/Pratchett
92. Finish L&V's Finishalongapalooza - (10/10)
93. Vote in 2008 election
94. File taxes and FAFSA before March 15 every year(1/3)
95. Play paintball
96. Buy a digital SLR camera
97. Leave someone a 100% tip (on a bill of $15 or more)
98. Go to the dentist
99. Get health insurance
100. Learn to spin sock yarn
101. (TBA)

AFI's 25 Greatest Musicals

** means I saw the movie before I started keeping track

**1 SINGIN' IN THE RAIN 1952 MGM
**2 WEST SIDE STORY 1961 United Artists
**3 WIZARD OF OZ, THE 1939 MGM
**4 SOUND OF MUSIC, THE 1965 Twentieth Century-Fox
**5 CABARET 1972 Allied Artists
**6 MARY POPPINS 1964 Disney
7 STAR IS BORN, A 1954 Warner Bros.
**8 MY FAIR LADY 1964 Warner Bros.
**9 AMERICAN IN PARIS, AN 1951 MGM
**10 MEET ME IN ST. LOUIS 1944 MGM
**11 KING AND I, THE 1956 Twentieth Century-Fox
**12 CHICAGO 2002 Miramax
13 42ND STREET 1933 Warner Bros.
14 ALL THAT JAZZ 1979 Twentieth Century-Fox
15 TOP HAT 1935 RKO
16 FUNNY GIRL 1968 Columbia
**17 BAND WAGON, THE 1953 MGM
18 YANKEE DOODLE DANDY 1942 Warner Bros.
19 ON THE TOWN 1949 MGM
**20 GREASE 1978 Paramount
**21 SEVEN BRIDES FOR SEVEN BROTHERS 1954 MGM
**22 BEAUTY AND THE BEAST 1991 Disney
**23 GUYS AND DOLLS 1955 MGM
24 SHOW BOAT 1936 Universal
**25 MOULIN ROUGE! 2001 Twentieth Century Fox

AFI's 100 Best American Films

** means I saw the movie before I started keeping track of dates

**1.CITIZEN KANE (1941)
**2.CASABLANCA (1942)
3.GODFATHER, THE (1972)
**4.GONE WITH THE WIND (1939)
5.LAWRENCE OF ARABIA (1962)
**6.WIZARD OF OZ, THE (1939)
7.GRADUATE, THE (1967)
**8.ON THE WATERFRONT (1954)
**9.SCHINDLER'S LIST (1993)
**10.SINGIN' IN THE RAIN (1952)
11.IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE (1946)
**12.SUNSET BOULEVARD (1950)
13.BRIDGE ON THE RIVER KWAI, THE (1957)
**14.SOME LIKE IT HOT (1959)
**15.STAR WARS (1977)
16.ALL ABOUT EVE (1950)
17.AFRICAN QUEEN, THE (1951)
18.PSYCHO (1960)
19.CHINATOWN (1974)
**20.ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO'S NEST (1975)
21.GRAPES OF WRATH, THE (1940)
22.2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY (1968)
**23.MALTESE FALCON, THE (1941)
24.RAGING BULL (1980)
**25.E.T. THE EXTRA-TERRESTRIAL (1982)
26.DR. STRANGELOVE (1964)
27.BONNIE & CLYDE (1967)
**28.APOCALYPSE NOW (1979)
**29.MR. SMITH GOES TO WASHINGTON (1939)
30.TREASURE OF THE SIERRA MADRE (1948)
**31.ANNIE HALL (1977)
32.GODFATHER PART II, THE (1974)
33.HIGH NOON (1952)
**34.TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD (1962)
35.IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT (1934)
36.MIDNIGHT COWBOY (1969)
37.BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES, THE (1946)
38.DOUBLE INDEMNITY (1944)
39.DOCTOR ZHIVAGO (1965)
40.NORTH BY NORTHWEST (1959)
**41.WEST SIDE STORY (1961)
42.REAR WINDOW (1954)
**43.KING KONG (1933)
44.BIRTH OF A NATION, THE (1915)
**45.STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE, A (1951)
46.CLOCKWORK ORANGE, A (1971)
47.TAXI DRIVER (1976)
**48.JAWS (1975)
**49.SNOW WHITE & THE SEVEN DWARFS (1937)
50.BUTCH CASSIDY & THE SUNDANCE KID (1969)
**51.PHILADELPHIA STORY, THE(1940)
52.FROM HERE TO ETERNITY (1953)
**53.AMADEUS (1984)
54.ALL QUIET ON THE WESTERN FRONT (1930)
**55.SOUND OF MUSIC, THE (1965)
56.M*A*S*H(1970)
57.THIRD MAN, THE (1949)
**58.FANTASIA (1940)
59.REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE (1955)
**60.RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK (1981)
**61.VERTIGO (1958)
**62.TOOTSIE (1982)
63.STAGECOACH (1939)
64.CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE THIRD KIND (1977)
**65.SILENCE OF THE LAMBS, THE (1991)
66.NETWORK (1976)
67.MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE, THE (1962)
**68.AMERICAN IN PARIS, AN (1951)
69.SHANE (1953)
70.FRENCH CONNECTION, THE (1971)
**71.FORREST GUMP (1994)
72.BEN-HUR (1959)
73.WUTHERING HEIGHTS (1939)
74.GOLD RUSH, THE (1925)
**75.DANCES WITH WOLVES (1990)
76.CITY LIGHTS (1931)
77.AMERICAN GRAFFITI (1973)
78.ROCKY (1976)
79.DEER HUNTER, THE (1978)
80.WILD BUNCH, THE (1969)
81.MODERN TIMES (1936)
82.GIANT (1956)
83.PLATOON (1986)
84.FARGO (1996)
85.DUCK SOUP (1933)
86.MUTINY ON THE BOUNTY (1935)
**87.FRANKENSTEIN (1931)
88.EASY RIDER (1969)
89.PATTON (1970)
90.JAZZ SINGER, THE (1927)
**91.MY FAIR LADY (1964)
92.PLACE IN THE SUN, A(1951)
93.APARTMENT, THE (1960)
94.GOODFELLAS (1990)
**95.PULP FICTION (1994)
96.SEARCHERS, THE (1956)
97.BRINGING UP BABY (1938)
98.UNFORGIVEN (1992)
99.GUESS WHO'S COMING TO DINNER (1967)
100. YANKEE DOODLE DANDY (1942)
AFI is a trademark of the American Film Institute. Copyright 2005 American Film Institute. All Rights Reserved.

The Plath Mystique

The Plath Mystique


Picture, for a moment, the magazine image of a 1950’s housewife. Lovely, perfectly coifed, her manicured hand holding a duster like a queenly scepter. Her skirts are frilly, her apron sparkling, and her joy in knowing that the perfect roast will shortly emerge from her oven is unmistakable. She eagerly waits for her husband to return home from earning the daily bread, and while she waits she cleans, cleans, cleans and cooks, cooks, cooks. This Lady of the House, unlike her predecessors, has no need of servants - she can run a household all on her own with the help of Technology! She is the queen of all she surveys...

In many ways the image is the epitome of domesticity, as previous women were not. As Anna Quindlen says in her introduction to The Feminine Mystique, “The advances of science, the development of labor-saving devices, the development of the suburbs: all had come together to offer women in the 1950s a life their mothers had scarcely dreamed of, free from rampant disease, onerous drudgery, noxious city streets” (xi). But this new-found dream had unanticipated consequences, as she goes on to say, “the green lawns and big corner lots were isolating, the housework seemed to expand to fill the time available, and polio and smallpox were replaced by depression and alcoholism. All that was covered up in a kitchen conspiracy of denial.” A conspiracy of denial, indeed - a “problem with no name,” a hatred and fear of the domestic requirement of the era. But before Betty Friedan blew the lid off of the conspiracy in 1963, there was Sylvia Plath; criticizing her role as a housewife and mother with a viciousness that belied her outward appearance and a bitterness that resonates through the drama of her biography to continue criticizing even today.

Both Plath and Friedan have been stereotyped as “neurotic,” which means “abnormally tense or sensitive” - implying that the neurotic have created their own problems and therefore their ideas shouldn’t be given any consideration (Merriam-Webster). Certainly the patriarchy that sought to put women back in the home after the second world war had a hand in such a categorization, as did the businesses that thrived on perpetuating similar roles for women. Friedan recognized early on that no women’s magazine would publish her findings because of their investment in womens’ roles. Redbook told Friedan's agent that only neurotic housewives would identify with her work - bringing up the “n-word” again. Similarly, Plath’s chosen medium of confessional poetry can often give a reader the sense that the poet has spilled her vitriol on the page wholesale; the poems emerging like Athena from Zeus’ head, fully-formed and ready to do battle with the world. If this were true, it would be easier to dismiss Plath’s poetry as neurotic. However, there is much evidence to the contrary: the many, many drafts of even Plath’s bitterest poems, and this quote from an interview in October of 1962:

“I think my poems immediately come out of the sensuous and emotional experiences I have, but I must say I cannot sympathise with these cries from the heart that are informed by nothing except a needle or a knife, or whatever it is. I believe that one should be able to control and manipulate experiences, even the most terrific, like madness, being tortured, this sort of experience, and one should be able to manipulate these experiences with an informed and an intelligent mind” (Interview).

All this to postulate that Plath knew exactly what she was doing, knew exactly the systems she was attacking through poetry, just as Friedan knew what she was attacking with her most famous book: the unnecessary roles women were being forced to fill in the post-WWII western world.

In 1962, Plath wrote the poem “Daddy,” a scathing exorcism of the memory of a father long-dead and his ghostly influence on the speaker’s life many years later. A queer mixture of anger and love, “Daddy” represents the father figure as an image of ultimate oppression.

“In the picture I have of you,/A cleft in your chin instead of your foot/But no less a devil for that, no not/any less the black man who//Bit my pretty red heart in two./I was ten when they buried you./At twenty I tried to die/and get back, back, back to you./I thought even the bones would do” (Plath 76)

While it is generally accepted that a poet’s poems do not necessarily speak with the voice of the poet herself, it is nearly impossible to separate the poetic voice from Plath’s own history, and from there extrapolate to the influence of her dead father over her entire life. It is also not a large leap to say that Plath’s “Daddy” goes beyond her own experience to cast judgment on patriarchal control in her society. The father is portrayed as a nazi, a devil and a vampire, exerting control over his child from beyond the grave and (as cliché as it sounds) sucking her will to live through his memory alone, just as the patriarchal structure of post-WWII society sapped the will of housewives across the United States by putting them in roles that devalued their intelligence and education, “Like a two-headed schizophrenic... once she wrote a paper on the Graveyard poets; now she writes notes to the milkman” (Friedan 23).

“The Detective” is another poem that tackles the subtle oppression of women’s housewifely roles:

“A body into a pipe, and the smoke rising,/This is the smell of years burning, here in the kitchen/These are the deceits, tacked up like family photographs,/ And this is a man, look at his smile,/ The death weapon? No-one is dead” (31).

This poem speaks to the disintegration of the woman as a whole when she is thrust into the roles created for her by a patriarchal society. The crime in the poem will never be solved because the woman no longer exists; she has disappeared piece by piece under the burden of being “in the kitchen” for years with no purpose. The deceits are the ones that kept her there; ideas that made her a housewife against her will and perpetuated by a man who does not understand. Later in “The Detective,” the woman loses her lips and so cannot speak - a loss of voice echoed by women throughout the era. Betty Friedan opens The Feminine Mystique with a similar statement about the voicelessness of women:

“The problem lay buried, unspoken, for many years in the minds of American women. It was a strange stirring, a sense of dissatisfaction... Each suburban housewife struggled with it alone.... -she was afraid to ask even of herself the silent question - ‘Is this all?’” (15)

Certainly the similarities between Plath and Friedan are multitude. Both women defied tradition and shattered barriers that had held their fellow housewives captive. Their ideas and theories are eerily similar, although Plath’s have the obvious overtone of depression while Friedan's sound more like determination. One wonders what Plath’s fate might have been had she held out a few more months and read Friedan’s opus - perhaps she would still be with us, continuing the fight they started.

The Story

There are many tales of Raven and his exploits among the people of the Pacific Northwest. Growing up in Alaska, I had the privilege of hearing several Raven tales as a young girl; they were so beautiful, funny and entertaining that they have become some of my favorite legends. My favorite story is called "Raven Steals the Light," or sometimes "How Raven Lit the World." Here is the tale as I remember it.

How Raven Lit the World

The world was dark. Dark like the pitch from an old cedar tree. Raven could hardly see to land on a branch, much less spot his favorite crawly treats on the ground. He was annoyed because the People of the land couldn't see him to call his name or tell him jokes. And the People suffered in the darkness, because as everyone knows Lady Cold comes with her Brother Darkness. The People huddled in their cedar lodges, wishing someone would do something to help them. Not that Raven cared much for the People, but he didn't like being cold either. So there you have it.

Now, darkness wasn't the only problem of the People. While they huddled under their button blankets for warmth (almost forgetting what it feels like to be warm), they recalled legends of a time when streams of silver salmon ran in front of every cedar lodge, when animals of all shapes and sizes wandered freely over the land. But this time was only legend, and for many generations there had been no streams of silver salmon and no animals of any shape or size. Only Raven and his friends Eagle and Bear, who were equally hungry and sick of the cold and dark.

One day, the three friends were commiserating about the dark, cold, hungry state they were in. "Do you think there will ever be light again, like the People say in their stories? You know, legend has basis in fact, so there must have been light and warmth, long ago." Bear was slow and deliberating, which made her friends think she was stupid. But she was strong and fiercely loyal, and occasionally said something that made Raven think she was not so stupid after all. "Perhaps," said Raven, "but where did the light go? How would we find it again?" Eagle, from the top of the tallest pine tree, said, "I thought I saw the light once. It was coming from the smokehole of the Grandfather's cedar lodge. We should go look." Eagle, you see, has the sharpest eyes of all, and was the most irritated by the darkness. Not even Eagle can see well when Brother Darkness comes to call.

So the friends set off up the mountain to the cedar lodge of Grandfather, which was situated at the very top of the mountain. The lodge was very, very old, made of the largest cedar beams anyone had ever seen. Raven knocked smartly on the lintel. "Grandfather! Are you there? We are come to call on you, O venerated Elder!" but no answer came from inside the great cedar lodge, so Eagle began to use his sharp eyes to peer a way in. Alas, there was none. The only opening was the smokehole, and by some magic only smoke could pass through - not even Raven could get in. "Well," said Eagle, "that is that, as they say. I am going back to the tallest pine to think this over." "I shall return to my cave, and think as well," growled Bear. "I will stay here and see what may be seen," replied Raven. "Good journey to you both."

Raven sat on a pine branch for a day and a night, trying to think up a way to get into the cedar lodge. On the morning of the second day, he heard the bubble and burble of water. It was such a surprising sound that he hopped right down off of his pine branch and went to investigate. There, coming from underneath the door of the great cedar lodge, was a bright stream of water, no larger than Raven's wingspan. And kneeling by the streamlet was a beautiful girl, washing clothes. A seed of an idea came to Raven, so he waited until the girl took up a a cup and dipped some water from the stream. Quick as a spider, Raven transformed himself into a hemlock needle and jumped into the cup, just in time for the girl to drink him down. Once in her belly, Raven transformed himself again and became a baby, settled himself down to grow and wait for his time to be born.

Nine Months Later
Raven was born in the usual way to the beautiful girl in the dark and cold of the perpetual night, and he was without a doubt the oddest looking baby either the girl or her father had ever seen: a head of black hair the texture of down, a sharp beaky nose and yellow eyes. But like grandfathers have since the beginning of time, and shall until the fish turn to stars in the sky, the Grandfather thought this first grandson the most marvelous child eer born to woman. His pride swelled up and filled the cedar house until he had to turn it into smoke to allow it through the smokehole.

Raven, now a boy in the Elder's family, set about exploring his new surroundings, trying to find the source of the light Eagle had seen so long ago. He inspected everything the the lodge to no avail. Then one day while his Grandfather was sleeping, he came upon a pile of large bentwood boxes covered by a oilcloth. A glow emerged from under the cloth, so baby Raven pointed and squawked and finally the Grandfather uncovered the boxes. Baby Raven squawked and pointed some more, so Grandfather put the smallest box in Raven's hands. When Raven put his ear to the box, he could hear rushing water and leaping salmon; this must be Grandfather's secret place for the streams of silver salmon. Raven played carefully with the box for three days, wailing if the Grandfather took it away from him even for a moment. Alas, Raven could not open the box, no matter how he tried. On the fourth day, the Grandfather's daughter took the box from Raven and carried it to the open door of the Great Cedar Lodge. The daughter carefully cracked open the box just enough to let out the tiniest trickle of water - just enough to wash clothes in. Raven cocked his head and watched with one golden eye. Then, quick as a hummingbird, he ripped the top off of the box and in a roar so loud it shook the Great Cedar Lodge like an autumn leaf came all the streams and rivers that Grandfather had hoarded up so long ago.

The People rejoiced. The Animals rejoiced. Raven, now suspicious of the other boxes, began listening. In one box, he heard the cries of every animal he could imagine. In another, he heard nothing but felt a great heat. Raven again tried to open the boxes, but they were sealed by magic and he could not get his beak or claws into them. He tried knocking them against one another, hitting them with convenient rocks, and even tried to hurl them outside to no avail.Several weeks went by, and Raven became upset and sad. It was a new feeling, as Raven is usually the most cheerful and clever of the Animals, and he didn't like it one little bit. Brother Eagle sensed this (for it was his particular talent to spot emotions as well as prey), and came to visit Raven one afternoon, dragging a freshly-caught salmon in his claws. Raven's beady gold eyes lit up. "Eagle!" he cried, "Bring that salmon over here! I have an idea." Raven dragged the box of animal sounds over to the open doorway - his mother was washing clothes in the now-moved stream - and had Eagle lay the stinking salmon on top. The sounds in the box stopped suddenly, as a mountain cat stops when he scents prey. Then, the box began to shudder and shake. The wood creaked, then bulged, and then exploded into mere splinters as the bears and cats and skunks and other meat-eating animals fought over the mere scent of the salmon they had been denied for so long. Raven squawked in relief to see the black cloud of his brothers and sisters rise into the sky, and Eagle flapped off to join his cousins in the tallest trees, pausing only to call over his shoulder "Now bring back the light!"

Months went by. Raven's adopted Grandfather was so angry, his teeth marks adorned the walls and posts of the Great Cedar lodge from foundation to smokehole. He chewed through the front door and Raven's mother had to carve a new one. He chewed through the magic wards on the smokehole and spat them into the river, where they became the seals that guard the harbors and the porpoises that guard the uumiak. One day, the fish stores in the lodge were gone. The last piece of dried meat was eaten, and Grandfather could no longer crack open a bentwood box to grab a fresh animal to feed his family. He decided to go hunting and fishing, as he used to do. Raven saw his chance. Quick as a fox, he hurled the last box into the flames of the cooking fire and watched it as it began to smolder. The box began so smoke and swell in the fire, which began to absorb into the wood of the box itself. A whistle came from the cooking pit, and the glow from the box filled the whole of the Great Cedar Lodge. Raven covered his eyes in the presence of such light and cowered before the brilliance of the Celestial Bodies. With a crack that split the roof and threw Raven to the ground, the Sun, Moon and Stars exploded through the smokehole and back into the sky.

When he could move again, Raven opened his eyes. The fire was gone, he could see nothing. But slowly, oh so slowly, he saw the outline of the door through the hazy light of the smokehole. He stumbled outside, into a daylight the world hadn't seen for generations. And waiting to greet him was every living creature he could imagine, headed by Bear and Eagle. A representative of The People stepped forward. "Brother Raven," he said," we, The People, wish to thank you for bringing us back the light, water and food we so desperately missed. In thanks, we wish to name ourselves after you, to take your likeness as our crest, and your qualities as our own. We are now Haida, the People of the Raven." Another representative of The People stepped forward. "Brother Eagle," she cried,"Oh you of the sharpest eye and claw! We of The People also venerate Raven, but it was you who brought the Salmon that freed the animals. For your help to Raven, I wish to call myself and my descendants after you. I am now Tlingit, Woman of the Eagle."

And that is how Raven Lit the World.