Descent into Misery: Complete

While Jack is out of town for the next couple of weeks, I took the opportunity to spread out (even more so) and make a mess while finishing up my knitting needle roll. I wish I had a picture to share, but the mess I made was far beyond any level of human decency (some would call it "living in squalor"), and I'm just not ready to make that aspect of my life public yet.

Now that I have finished the needle roll, I feel as if I was being a little over dramatic as I chronicled my descent into misery. But in the heat of the moment, I truly do feel like I am sucked into a vortex of misery, sometimes finishing a project just feels like a chore. It's the little mistakes that make the experience so terrible, mistakes like this:

Hahahahaha, fail.

When it came time to sew the inner and outer panels together, I inadvertently sewed the ribbon, which would tie the roll together, on the wrong side of the fabric. The fabric was put together (wrong-side up) so that I could flip it inside out when I was done...and if I sewed the ribbon onto the wrong side then when I invert it, it would be on the inside and absolutely useless to me.  I realized this far too late, so I had to rip out the seam and restart again, which led to.....

The bane of my existence

Having to reload the bobbin! It's not a difficult task, but I can never seem to get it right. It's like when I try to plug into a USB port, it always takes three tries even though there's only two ways to plug it in. I can't ever remember whether it loads thread clockwise or counter-clockwise and sometimes I don't wind the thread around enough times so when I start the machine, not only does it wind in the opposite direction I had expected it to, it loosens whatever I wound onto the bobbin. I just sighed out loud having to relive the experience while typing this last paragraph.

But, finally, after all that drama, I managed sew the ribbon back onto the right side and put the whole thing together. On top of that, like the silver lining around a dark cloud, I successfully matched up the top of the inner pocket with the outer panel!

Success!

Once the roll was complete, I was so giddy and so happy that I successfully made something that does what it's supposed to do--that post-project high, forgetting all the misery that accompanies the actually fabrication process....until I get it in my head that I should try for another project and the cycle restarts itself. But for now, I'm going to savor in another victory over fabric and poorly honed sewing skillz.

Action shot!

Boy, do I have egg on my face!

I sometimes fail at life. Take these eggs for instance, I had grand plans for them to win the egg decorating contest at the Giordano Boys' Easter Feaster lunch. I spent time looking up decorating tips on Martha Stewart, debating whether to purchase those PAAS dye kits or if I should make my own colors, and figuring out how awesome I wanted to make my eggs.

I spent a relaxing Friday afternoon decorating the eggs--well, relaxing until I decided to use glitter, which everyone knows is the herpes of craft supplies. There are still remnants of the fine luster glitter on our table cloth.

Anyways, I headed down to Seattle that Friday afternoon to kick off a whirlwind Easter weekend that included hot dogs and beer from Shultzy's, drinks and Jake's Birthday at the Clever Bottle, a trip to Mt. Vernon for the tulips (which were not in bloom yet, so we ended up staring at fields of daffodils instead), root beer floats on a warm sunny day, starting up the BBQ grill again, a visit by the Easter bunny that brought me a chocolate bunny from Fran's, brunch at Adrift, and FINALLY the Easter Feaster lunch where I could get to show off my awesome egg dying skillz.

Well, given my propensity to fail at life, I complete forgot to bring the eggs with me to the party. Yes, I remembered to bring Megan's ice block that she left at our place a few weeks ago. And I did remember to bring back all the unfinished liquor to return to their owners. But eggs for the decorating contest? Left them in the refrigerator at home.

So now I'm going to share them on this blog, because decorated eggs kind of lose their appeal after Easter--as with the prospect of having to eat 5 hard boiled eggs somehow (one of which may be flecked with glitter).

Better luck next year, boys.

Continuing My Journey into the Depths of Misery.

Took me way too long to figure out which pattern to use and where it should go.

The crafting process to give my knitting needles a home goes on this week and if I felt mildly frustrated last week, this time around I felt like ripping the fabric to shreds, and I would have except doing that would destroy hours of my work and upset me even more.

Before I get into the nitty gritty of my misery, let me introduce you to Zelda:

Pretty girl.

Technically, Zelda is not mine, it belongs to an old co-worker of mine. Two years ago, I asked her if I could borrow her sewing machine to make a Halloween costume, she obliged and I happily took it home and made my costume.

Slutty sushi!

Then I conveniently forgot to return Zelda to her and then I moved and then I forgot again and now Zelda lives with me. IMPORTANT NOTE: I do intend to return Zelda to her rightful owner--and definitely before we move even further from Seattle. So there. It's not like I'm holding Zelda hostage or something. Zelda totally loves staying with me.

Ahem.

So, this week I worked on putting together the inner pocket, where the needles will go, and the other panel. Up until this point, I've read over the directions multiple times just to make sure that I didn't miss anything. WELL. It's definitely one thing to read it and know what you are doing and then to execute it successfully. The instructions noted a 1/2 inch seam allowance. Simple enough, I thought, except I completely overestimated my ability to measure things. Did I learn nothing from last week? This is what it looks like when you think you sewed with a 1/2 seam allowance only to go back and remeasure and realize you were juuuuussssst a bit off.

So close.

It would be one thing if I realized this on the first piece I sewed together, and to a certain extent I noticed that it didn't seem QUITE like a half-inch, but instead of measuring it exactly I said, "Fuck this" and sewed all the pieces together. It wasn't until I got to the end that I realized maybe I should have listened to that little voice inside me saying to measure it exactly. So yes, I had to go back and add a tiny 1/8th of an inch-or so to all the panels. But the biggest insult of the day was to come later.

The semi-completed inner pockets

The biggest, hair-ripping-out-est insult occurred when I put together the outside panel. Remember that last week I had to fudge the numbers a bit and re-work the proportions because I wasn't paying attention to what I was cutting out. This week, my terrible math skills came to a head:

The finished panel is supposed to be the same size as the inner panel (obviously), which, when finished, measures 19x22 inches. I CAME UP AN INCH SHORT. DAMMMMMIT. Adding insult to injury, I actually cut out a 1.5x22 strip in case I came up short, but given the seam allowances, it would have been too short as well. I suppose I could use a smaller seam allowance, but I JUST GOT USED TO THAT 1/2 INCH SEAM ALLOWANCE.

It was at this point that I decided that it was enough for one day. I will work on cutting out another panel next week and I will probably finish it up then (hopefully). Until then, here is what the (mostly) finished outer panel looks like:

Perhaps my knitting needles are better off living in a plastic bag, like hobos.

"Live" Blogging: My Eventual Descent into Misery as I Attempt to Make Something

Look at the mess I can make!

Today, I was planning on blathering about things I want in my dream home (or at the very least, things I will no longer tolerate in the next place I rent) but, buoyed by a fairly healthy breakfast (oatmeal and bananas, side of turkey bacon, and a cup of coffee), I decided to start on a new sewing project. After deciding what to make, I decided to take pictures to document my "creative process" and perhaps if it turns out nice, I'll share it with the three people that read this blog. But then the coffee finally kicked in and I decided to blog my descent into a hot mess instead. Initially, I was thinking about doing a "live" blog, but then I got realistic about my weekend warrior tendencies. There was no real way I could have finished in a day and be happy about the end product--and I would have gone hungry because it would leave no time to make dinner and eat. So, this will become a diary of sorts that I hope to remember to update as I work on making a knitting needle roll.

Also, that is what I am making: a knitting needle roll. Hopefully it will make starting knitting projects a touch easier if all my needles have a proper home instead of a plastic bag. God, my knitting needles are hobos. Anyways, onto the action!


Wednesday, 1:26pm: Tragedy strikes early.

In case you were wondering what happens if you iron fabric onto your fabric cutting mat, well it warps. And the advertised "self healing board" doesn't necessarily apply to heat. I definitely yelled out loud and then cursed. Oh, there was cursing. Luckily, I had only inadvertently ironed on one edge of the cutting board so flipped it around and continued cutting out the pieces needed for this project.

Why yes, it's nearly two in the afternoon and I am still in my pajamas. (F)unemployment!

Wednesday, 4:11pm: Measure twice, cut once.


I'd like to think that it was the coffee was wearing off, but really I was being careless and not quite paying attention when I accidentally cut a strip of fabric about an inch too short. Well, normally I'd just re-cut fabric, this time in the correct size, but I was trying very hard to stick with the fabric scraps I have accrued and hoarded from various other projects and I didn't have enough of that particular color to re-cut. When that happens, the instruction pages end up looking like this, as I fudge the all the proportions and make my own edits:

Math skillz, don't let me down!

On the upside, after spending a half-hour trying to figure out how it would all work out, I finish cutting out almost all the fabric pieces I would need. I also decided to label all my fabric, which I've never done before, but it turned out to be a good idea. I'm glad that I managed to confuse myself for a bit while labeling the pieces rather than confusing myself as I sewed the pieces together only to realize I did it wrong and then cursing to myself as I rip out all the seams.

I say I'm almost done cutting out almost all the pieces because halfway through putting the fabric together to see what would look nice with each other, I realize that I hate my fabric scraps (which is probably why they were fabric scraps to begin with) and I'll need to make a point of stopping at a fabric store for some sparkly trim and a ribbon that will tie the roll together.

That's it for this week or, really, that's all I'm motivated to do for today. Now is the time for watching Gilmore Girls on my DVR and enjoying a beer.

I made a hat! (and other things I with which I pass my time.)

Among the things I have done over this period of (f)unemployment, I have started and finished (!) a few knitting projects. Although, this might just be a record for me--I have started and finished knitting a hat in under a month. And with plenty of winter weather left to spare. It seems like winter will never end, despite the daffodils blooming in our yard.

True story: I actually got dressed in "real" clothes for this picture.

I got the pattern through Ravelry, which is the most awesome website ever if you are looking for patterns or inspiration for your next knitting/crochet project. Starting the hat was a bit tricky because I had never done an Italian Tubular cast-on, so I had to look up instructions and sort through all the different YouTube videos out there. But once I got started, I only made like 5 mistakes, which seems really low considering that most of the time I was knitting while watching Gilmore Girls.

A few months ago, I also finished a cowl scarf. I had bought the yarn on clearance not really thinking about the color only that I liked the yarn. So once I finished, much to my chagrin, I realized that with the color and the way it's striped, it kind of looks like a bacon scarf.

Bright side: My bacon-looking scarf is ridiculously warm.

Lest you think that all this time spent not working have been toward productively knitting cold weather accessories for myself, I have also wasted countless hours on Interwebs watching cute animal videos. True story: One night I stayed up way too late, just watching a dog named, Murkin, and his cute little kittens. You are just going to AWWWW all over the place. Behold:

EXTRA BONUS CONTENT!
So, here's an outtake of me trying to figure out my PhotoBooth program on my computer. It had been a while since I last used it, and my laptop is getting into its twilight years, so I kept on hitting the button to set off the camera, but when it took it's sweet time to load, I got up to open the door for some fresh air. And that's when the little punk decided to start working.

I can't wait to have a job again.

Glutton for Punishment (Part 2: The Epic Conclusion!)

When I last left off, my poor unfinished quilt was quietly folded aside and quickly forgotten as Spring finally rounded the corner in Seattle. Happily, eventually I got up off my lazy ass and started working on the quilt again. It was about the same time that I was making plans to move in with Jack, I realized that I still had my co-worker's sewing machine and perhaps it would be a tad gauche if I end up taking it with me to Anacortes. For one thing, it would make returning the machine infinitely more difficult. So I started working again, hoping that I would be able to finish by the time I moved.

I worked in fits and starts. One weekend I managed to finally piece together what would be the back of the quilt. But then the next step was to baste the quilt, which is sandwiching the face, the batting, and the back together and loosely sewing it together so that it wouldn't move while I quilted the thing together. Faced with a seemingly mountainous job ahead of me, I once again folded the quilt and put it away.

In another weekend, particularly rejuvenated after brunch with my friends at Toulouse Petit, I started working on basting the quilt. The only good thing about basting was that it is sewed together VERY LOOSELY.  The bad thing about basting was that I did it all by hand while watching Azumanga Daioh, in the original Japanese with English subtitles. Considering that I don't speak a lick of Japanese, the subtitles were necessary for my understanding their hilarious shenanigans. I found that I could focus on only one thing: either I work on sewing or I watch the cartoon. Eventually I decided that the quilt was basted enough (I sewed it down the middle horizontally and vertically and then diagonally twice making an X), taped the rest of the quilt down with blue tape, and spent the rest of the afternoon watching cartoons. And so it was until it came time to move.

I had a week in between my last day of the work and when I had to move. I thought I would have all the time in the world to slowly pack, run some errands, take it easy, and maybe work on my quilt. Boy, was I mostly wrong. Aside from deciding that taking the bus/light rail was too expensive and walking to places instead, I also tried to cram in as many happy hours as humanly possible. There were lunches with old co-workers; then my dentist found a pocket (a pocket!) of bacteria that may spell bad news down the line, and especially since I was giving up insurance for the foreseeable future, she suggested I get a few visits in to thoroughly clean the area, so I had three more dentist appointments scheduled; and the one day I spent shopping for and wrapping potstickers for dinner for my friends. There wasn't a lot of time to pack or to work on my quilt. However, I did find one afternoon to work on it, and I managed to finally quilt (as in officially sewing it all together) my first line. But, the apartment was such a mess, and quilting required so much space (since the whole thing was basted together), that I eventually packed it all away.

Long story: No, I did not finish my quilt before I moved to Anacortes.

However! Now that I was in Anacortes, I did managed to finish it sometime in the first month that I moved in. Partially because, finally, there was nothing to distract me, there was a ton of space (none of Jack's furniture had arrived yet), and there was nothing to do in Anacortes.

Check out the quilt in action! Draped on the couch!

I ended up spending about two days just quilting it together. The problem I had was the excess fabric that I needed to support while I quilted. Occasionally one of the blanket that I wasn't working on quilting would slowly slide off the table and then it would screw up the straight line I was sewing on--and, yes, it led to tiny little bunches which drive me slightly crazy, but not so crazy that I would want to fix it.

Another issue I had was cutting off the excess batting and backing fabric. I mentioned that my fabric cutting board was only 18x24, but now I had to cut excess fabric off something that was now about a twin sized blanket...and the living room floor was carpeted. So I had to wrangle the fabric, cutting every two feet or so, hoping that it would come out straight, and worrying that if I accidentally cut off the board, I would take a bit of carpet fuzz with it. But I finished anyways and now the only thing left was to sew on the border and I'd be finished!!

The border was the final bit of pain for me, because, as it turns out, I didn't cut the quilt out exactly straight. So where the border met the not so straightened edge of the quilt, it ended up bunching together. But, at this point I didn't care. It was completed....mostly. Some of the quilt came undone at the border about a week later (again with the not straight edges, it didn't quite meet with the border the first time around to get sewn together) and I had to fix it together.

It seems to have held up quite well now I've finished it. I've spilled juice on it and it has gone through two regular wash and dry cycles without looking worse for wear.  I've grown to love it and all it's small imperfections--although I'm not sure I want to attempt a second quilt, just to build on what I've learned the last time around. Anyways, let this be a lesson to you all--making a quilt is not for the weekend warrior, but it is pretty awesome once it's finished and your hate for the process has subsided.

Glutton for punishment (Part 1)

I was moving at the time, so my apartment was messy. I don't normally live in squalor or with bad lighting.

The other day I was reading Apartment Therapy and they had a post on crocheted granny squares. Between the lure of another comfortable blanket for myself and a seemingly fun project to while away the cold days of February, I briefly toyed with the idea of making my own granny square blanket. Then I remembered that this same siren song of DIY occured to me about the same time last year too when I decided that I could and should make a quilt. This week, I am going to share a story about my adventures in sewing a quilt. It's quite exciting for you, I'm sure--so exciting that I am splitting this story in two, the first part today (with a cliffhanger!) and finishing next week. Onto my personal quilting hell!

I have a tendency to fall in love with things very quickly and very often--puppies, pretty flower arrangements, and DIY projects--and once it clicks in my mind that I love it, I absolutely must have it/get it/do it. Well, sometime in January last year, I got the brilliant (BRILLIANT) idea to make a quilt after reading a post on Boing Boing about Boo Davis' quilting book (I think). I figured my sewing skills were decent enough that if I found a simple pattern, executing and putting together the quilt would be a fairly painless process. I was wrong. (SO WRONG)

I checked out Boo Davis' Dare to be Square quilting book from the library and looked for interesting patterns. I eventually settled on her Chatterbox pattern, which was an easy four block pattern that was just pieced together until it was big enough for a blanket. One interesting thing in her book was that she said making quilts were not for weekend warriors; quilts take time and you should take your time piecing it together. At the time, I was like: Okay, whatever.

Gathering the fabric took a while, but my spirits were high. Then came the cutting of all the squares. Holy crap. This was when the resentment began to set in--the whole patterned called for over 100 pieces of various fabric sizes for just the "face" of the quilt (not counting many pieces I cut out incorrectly), more smaller rectangles to make the border, and cutting three large unwieldy pieces to make the back of the quilt.

The general pattern in the book was to start with two pieces, block them together, do the same with another two pieces, and then sew the two blocks together to make a four square. Continue doing that until you have all the four squares in that row blocked together, then you sew the four blocks together until you have a complete row. Repeat. Once all the rows have been completed, sew all the rows together until the whole thing is pieced together. Sewing the fabric together initially wasn't so bad until I started blocking off the larger pieces. Things started to get real hairy because it just got kind of heavy, I didn't know quite where to drape the fabric to line it up for the machine, and all the pins. Oh god, the pins. I was stabbed so many times handling the fabric.

At this point it was...March, I think? I was pretty miserable because I had spent quite a bit of my free time (when not on the couch surfing the interwebs or eating or working or going to Kate's) on the quilt and all I had to show for it, a month plus into the project, were just blocked off rows. Plus, the damn quilt started to take over the living room; it was a project just setting up to begin to sew the blocks and then cleaning up.There was the sewing machine, the ironing board, getting the iron, laying out all the pieces in the order I wanted them. Then to pin them together, sew, press open, sew some more and repeat.

I was not even close to being able to put the layers together to baste the blanket because I hadn't cut the large unwieldy pieces for the back. The reason was that my little cutting board was only 18x24 inches and so cutting fabric pieces larger than that required some fabric wrangling which usually resulted crooked lines and shaving off tiny pieces of our area rug.

So, once I finished sewing together the face of the quilt, I folded it up and put it away. I patted myself on the back for a job well done and rewarded myself with a small quilt vacation thinking that I'd work on the piece for the back next week. Then, work got a bit stressful and more than a few weeks went by without working on the quilt. Suddenly it was April and the weather got nicer and I wasn't nearly so inclined to stay at home. So the quilt stayed folded up and neglected while I caroused around Seattle greeting the spring.

By now, you are probably on the edge of your seat wondering what happens to my project. Will it get finished? Does it rot away in quilt purgatory forever? Partially finished but never quilted together? Find out next week! Unless you've visited me in the last half of 2011, then you already know the answers.

Television is not the only thing that's rotting my brain.

It's official. Someone please hire me now because the longer I remain unemployed, spending way too much with trashy reality television shows, my brain is quickly atrophying to the point where I have forgotten basic baking principles:

Last week, I wanted to make some blueberry cheesecake bars for the upcoming camping trip so I set to baking. I made the crust without any major problems, but then came the cheesecake filling. Normally, like any sane person with half a gram of baking skillz, you would normally cream your fats (butter and/or cream cheese) with the sugar, add in the eggs, and finally the vanilla extract with some zest. But not me! I, with the atrophied brain mass, proceeded to dump EVERYTHING (ALL TOGETHER, AT ONCE) into the mixing bowl and set to mixing. It took about five minutes (5!!), when the eggs started to foam, that I realized my mistake.

After a quick round of cursing, I plow ahead, thinking maybe the heat from the baking would melt the cream cheese and it would all come together in the end. NOPE. After about 20 minutes of baking, the center was still liquid and chunky. There was no way it was going to set. Finally, that's when I decided that maybe it was a better idea to just throw it away.