Dear C. -
Yesterday was just the worst. Here I was attempting to solve problems between us, and I had to deal with terrible traffic nearly everywhere. Cars, cars, cars, trying to go Andersonville Midsommarfest, Ribfest, Bluesfest and the Cubs Game. We have a terrific transit system here and it seemed like not enough locals were using it if the back-ups on the Kennedy were any indication.
I just cannot tell you how frustrated I am with you. It's not you personally, in a sense. Maybe it's just the relationship. I'm trying to figure out where I fit in. Each time I try a new approach, I'm stymied big-time. Each time I cry, "Time out!," I find myself obsessing, revisiting the issues, replaying conversations and advice over and over like a broken piece of vinyl.
This is what I've concluded: I just don't trust you. That's why I haven't accepted your Facebook friend request. I'm suspicious. I wonder: will you twist on me again when I'm not looking? Really. I haven't had this problem in crochet, and I'm nearly an expert with not one but two shell-stitch crochet skirts under my macrame belt (one doesn't fit remotely, but I digress). I don't have trouble with twisted stitches in sewing either, but with that hobby I'm not in the least bit concerned with making and connecting a circle of stitches.
So, you've twisted on me twice, yes twice. I'm beginning to wonder: is my Ribs lace tank top meant to be? This time around, I didn't let the twist ramble for two-three inches like I did the first time. Yesterday I got to the fifth row and said: "Aunt! (not Uncle)!"
I really tried hard not to let your bad behavior get to me. I went to Arcadia Knitting at noon yesterday. Instead of completely ripping back tank top attempt no. 1, I did a cable cast-on for all 220 stitches on the other end of the skein (smart!). Now here was where I let you take advantage of me: I casted on, knit row no. 1, and then I hitched my stitches to get onto the no. 22 bus to the Little Brothers of the Elderly shindig.
Major mistake. I should have stuck around the yarn shop little longer, at least until row no. 5, or at least I could safely say twisting isn't likely to happen now. But my stomaching was growling, and so I took off...to merrily knit and purl when the bus dodged last winter's potholes.
C., I only discovered your deception late last night, while I was working on the first lace section in what has to be the worst pre-sleep activity: a complicated knit row, fraught with peril with every yarn-over. I mean I should have been preoccupied with counting sheep, not stitching and sliding on row markers. This kind of nocturnal neurosis only leads to tossing and turning at 2 a.m.
However, I am happy to report I slept well and I got my full eight hours' of shut-eye (that goes with telling you to shut up). You didn't haunt my dreams. Just before turning out the light, I did wonder whether I should I go to Vogue Fabrics' free sewing demo tonight (it's all about neat ways to use stabilizer) or go to Loopy Yarns sweater night to work on this project yet again? I just don't know. I'm so frustrated.
You know how we solve this kind of problem in the sewing world? (C. - listen closely). We snip! the offending fabric. Flip the fabric so it's facing the proper direction. Make a Solvy sandwich, with the cut fabric serving as the proverbial slice of ham. We do free-motion stitching on top of the sandwich. Wash away the stabilizer. Voila! Problem solved. No more flipping.
I'm not ready to take my scissors (which are actually being sharpened at Vogue Fabrics) to my knitted fabric. I can't quite sever the relationship yet. I need to get still more advice. God help me.
Gotta go -