Why I’m Not Reading My Art History Text:

Sit down for this, it may come as an earth-shattering surprise to you–I’m stressed out about my job. I know, I know–unless you’re a Buddhist monk or a…nope, that’s all I can think of–unless you’re a Buddhist monk, you’re probably stressed about your job. However, I’m interested in sharing the myriad reasons for my particular brand of job-related stress. I’m well aware this is supposed to be a blog detailing my creative endeavors, but humor me here.

1. I’m not at all appreciated. I’ve been working in the same office for well over a year now; I know the menial work I do inside and out, yet I’m still just as dispensable as the day I started.

2. I have to fill a forty-hour-a-week schedule with 6 or 7 hour shifts, sometimes shorter. Clearly, this leads to my having to work at least 6 days a week EVERY SINGLE FREAKING WEEK. Sometimes I work 7 days a week. Sometimes I want to destroy the entire world.

3. At the beginning of this semester, there was a glimmer of hope about an end to all this ridiculous madness. (At this point, I should clarify that my boyfriend and I work in the same office, which may seem crazy, but a) our office is crazy, and b) Adam and I are sooooo laid back that we’re almost never in each other’s hair anyway, but I digress.) Adam and I were both offered identical promotions, which would have made us supervisors. Perks of this position include:
–8-hour shifts, which are almost never cut short due to lack of work (which happens frequently to office minions like myself)
–a 3 dollar raise
–NOT HAVING TO BE ON THE FREAKING PHONE
Anyway, I’m sure you have some inkling of where I’m going with this. Two months later, Adam has been trained and officially promoted, and as far as I can tell, my promotion is being categorically forgotten about. Don’t start crying feminism, as I’m wont to do; the office is managed by a woman and three out of six current supervisors are women as well. The truth of the matter is the field I’m working in–survey research–is extremely fickle. An unproductive week can turn the whole office into an war zone, or in my case, turn an expected promotion into the semester from hell.

To further complicate the nature of this unfortunate beast, my office manager is nearly incapable of delivering bad news of any kind, which is why at this point, I’m not even sure whether or not I’m even being denied this promotion. The supervisors are holding a meeting later this week to talk office drama discuss some issues, and undoubtedly this will come up. If something productive comes out of said meeting, perhaps I’ll FINALLY get promoted and this will all seem like embarrassing whining. Here’s hoping.

Oh right, knitting:
Baroness Beret, knit on family vaca this summer, with Knitpicks Comfy, in “cashew.”

On that note, time to go get covered with charcoal. There is truly nothing like drawing a pile of bananas to melt away life’s silly little problems.

Many Happy Returns

Several factors have converged to encourage my return to the blogosphere, not least of which is the new computer I recently bought, whose very arrival I am now anxiously awaiting. Ah, sweet portability, coupled with the mountains of yuppie-cred I will collect every time that little white apple sends a beam of hipness through some poorly-lit cafe.

Also a monumental contributor to my renewed interest in fiber-documentation:  this year’s trip to Rhinebeck. Unlike last year–when I dragged my poor unsuspecting boyfriend along–this year I took the WEBS bus. I mean absolutely no insult to my dear, sweet boy when I say I had a mush lovelier time surrounded by other people who share my personal brand of insanity.

Once again, the festival was completely overwhelming. Sheep everywhere (this year’s featured breed was romney*), knitters everywhere, and golly-gee-whiz, was there a lot of beautiful wool to be had. Because I feel that any Rhinebeck update without pictures is worthless, I will share my haul. I will warn any unsuspecting viewers that my camera, bad apartment lighting, and shoddily constructed “lightbox” all conspired to help create (literally) the worst photos ever taken. Please don’t mock me. When I regain the motivation to go outside for pictures, the blog fodder will improve, I promise. In any case, without further ado, I present fiber pr0n:

(That last one is a fabulous prize gleaned from the annals of the WEBS bus. If only all my public transit experiences were so lucrative…)

I also managed, in spite of my all-encompassing shyness, to meet a lovely fellow fiber fetishist, who spent the day ogling fluff with me. Thanks for being awesome, Nina!

On the home front, I’m only working on one project right now (!!!), a make-it-up-as-I-go, top-down raglan sweater. I’m projecting an end date of around mid-November, as I really only have time to knit at work (I know, I can hear the knives being sharpened, but trust me, my job is not worth the ability to knit while doing it, so there’s no need to lash out in envy), so until then, I offer you this bad macro shot:

More later. Now that I have the ability to internet in class, expect frequent updates. Don’t judge me.

*Something they don’t mention in the Wiki: Romneys totally have fleece on their ballsacks. Imagine the possibilities.