Good luck with that, buddy.
I’m genuinely upset. My blood is boiling with frustration and I want nothing more than to throw this ball of yarn against the wall but I know it’s soft and malleable and will bring me no satisfaction on impact.
Happy Lollipop Tuesday, boys and girls. I’m angry.
If you don’t know what Lollipop Tuesday is, please know that it’s not often something enraging. Usually, it’s a nice mind-opening experience that makes me grow somehow as a person – sometimes from epic new undertakings and sometimes from minute challenges. To read about more pleasant adventures, check out the archive at “What’s Lollipop Tuesday?” at the top of this page. To mock my pain, stay put.
I have always wanted to knit. I don’t know why. Something about it seems so soothing. I’ve seen people knit while they watch television as if their hands have minds of their own and their brain can take a vacation. I’ve seen people knit entire scarves that come snaking out of their bags during class in college. I’ve seen beautiful little craft tutorials online that seem so easy…if only you know how to knit.
I lack this basic pioneer skill.
For some stupid reason this week, I thought it would be great if I could teach myself how to acquire it. But instead of relying on YouTube tutorials (which lovingly taught me how to solve a Rubik’s cube and how to make origami this year), I thought I’d go old school like the craft itself and learn from a book.
Why? Why did I do that?
As it turns out, I’m apparently an imbecile and have no ability to decipher diagrams or make sense of instructions. I’m really disappointed in myself. Hours of attempting to ‘cast on’. That’s right: I spent HOURS just trying to cast on. It kept spiraling around and I couldn’t figure out why. Then when I finally did, I realized my stitches were too tight. There was always a reason to start over. And when I finally sang a weak, forlorn Hallelujah for my accomplishment, it occurred to me that I hadn’t actually begun to knit yet. I’d just prepared to begin to knit. If I could have worked faster, I’d have fashioned myself a very soft, very colorful noose. When I sought out the section of the booklet that actually delved into knitting, my mind was a flurry of despair.
“Wrap the yarn around the right needle from back to front, so that it rests between the two needles (reference Diagram 32). Slide the right needle down, then bring the point forward through the stitch, bringing the yarn with it (Reference Diagrams 33 and 34).”
-excerpt from “Knit Yourself a Noose” by Jackie.
First of all, what the hell does any of that mean? Honestly. It’s not clear enough for me. And referencing the diagrams doesn’t help, because they’re in 2D and my life is in 3. Three. I need three D’s. I don’t see any clear difference between the diagrams so I have to flit my eyes back and forth from one to the other until I can spot the difference like some sort of children’s activity book and then once I do, I’ve completely forgotten what I’m doing and my hands are in a mess that looks a lot like when I played Cat’s Cradle in elementary school. Blame it on my generation, but there was no way I was knitting a scarf from a book’s instructions. Maybe if I were trapped in a cabin with a full supply of food and water, but nothing to entertain myself but a ball of yarn, two needles, and this incredibly vague book – then maybe I might be able to fashion myself a scarf wide enough to warm a kitten. But it would probably still be spirally and misshapen and sad.
After hours of attempts and painfully slow progress, I stopped. I told myself I’d given it the good ol’ college try and simply gave up. I thought through the list of incredibly stupid people I know that somehow managed to learn to knit and got very, very angry. I thought of all the old women to hum and rock and stare into a vast void while their hands make beautiful clothes and crafts and blankets and wonders of all kinds. I was enraged.
Then I remembered that YouTube exists and did what I should have just resorted to in the first place: finding the most basic video with the most views. As it turns out, it taught me how to cast on in a beautifully straight, incredibly clear line in only three minutes. Yeah. Three minutes. Then I moved on to attempting to actually knit a row. And wouldn’t you know: it’s all actually quite straightforward. There’s some messiness with all the fingers and string involved, but once you figure out what you’re looking at it’s really no big deal. That being said, I’m not knitting Christmas presents any time soon, but I can at least not write off an entire bag of newfound knitting supplies. And that’s pretty stellar because before I watched the YouTube video, I had resolved to burn them in a hot, blazing hellfire.
End result? Nothing actually knitted. Various, undocumented attempts. Overwhelming frustration.
Tonight, I go 2011 on it and go full-fledged YouTube. I’ll knit you yet, scarf of rage. ♣
The Jackie Blog 