What else to say

I find myself a year later with very little having changed. I want the same things as last year's new years post. I'm stuck in the same ways I was last year. I did do some of the things I wanted, but not enough. Some things changed and then changed back. It was a weird year, and a frustrating year, and I'm still frustrated with a lot of things. Some of things might get better soon. Some of them are even up to me. So I'm still trying. I'm still here.

A sure sign of addiction

I've been watching Fringe on Netflix. I mostly blame Tamara for this, because for ages she's been talking about Other Olivia's amazing bangs, and how beautiful Peter is, whom I still refer to as Pacey. He will always be Pacey.

Yesterday I got to an episode in the other universe where all the sheep had died out, and my first thought was, "That's so sad. What do they knit with?"

Cuppa

One of the many things that stuck with me through all the incarnations of Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide series is Arthur's constant search for tea. A lot of people would argue, and possibly rightly so, that it was just Douglas poking fun at a very British trait. But I think that if after traveling literally to the end of the universe and back, he still only ever found a decent cup of tea on our little blue marble, then that alone is a pretty good reason to keep us from getting destroyed. Maybe it's not just British. Maybe a good cup of tea is the one thing us humans really got right. 

I am trying to break your heart

That's the name of the flash fiction workshop I'm taking this week at the college where I work, and it's lovely.

Granted, it's also stressful trying to write a piece of prose every night knowing I will probably have to read it out loud the next day, on top of all the other madness going on there, because this week is the start of a three week long festival of workshops and events and all sorts of nonsense that we've spent months arranging, so it's only Tuesday night and I'm already a little exhausted.

But I'm playing with words again, and getting advice and critiques about those words. And that feels marvelous.

S.O.S.

Which I guess in this case stands for save our stash?

I stumbled upon a lovely new (to me) blog full of lovely knitted things, among other bits of gorgeous, and now all I want to do is knit lots of pretty cardigans.

Why does this only happen to me when it's way too hot in my apartment to knit? Months of lackluster knitting enthusiasm, and suddenly when it's 90 degrees out and my prime stitching spot is in direct sunlight, that's when I get motivated?

Brain. What are you doing?

Book madness

Book madness of the best variety.

I mentioned before that I'd arbitrarily decided to read ten books in a month. I had just finished a book that took me longer to finish than it should have, not to mention the count of books I own but haven't read yet was nearing 100. (Yes, I keep track. My Librarything is very carefully cataloged.) It's still not far off from that number, because even while reading those ten books, I still bought more. But you know.

I read ten books in a month.

I'm not talking Ulysses, here. Just some of the lighter novels hanging around, some short stories, a couple young adult novels. Even a self help book. But still. One month. Ten books. I did it.

The thing I found most interesting is that I wasn't any less busy than I'd been before. While reading, I still went to a play, and to the movies, and watched stuff on Netflix. I volunteered at the university's graduation ceremony, went camping for my birthday, rode roller coasters at Cliff's Amusement Park, and saw Mumford and Sons in Taos last week. (It was awesome, in spite of the rain and hail.)

So even though I don't plan to keep trying to finish a book every three days, I do plan to keep reading harder than I have been.

Even though the first book I plan to read now is A Storm of Swords. Once I finish Jasper Fforde's Shades of Grey. Man, that guy is verbose.

In which the blogger suffers an acute attack of the don't wannas

What do you do when you don't feel like doing anything?

Summer has finally reached Santa Fe, and the wall of windows in my living room face northwest, so from about five thirty to eight thirty I get direct sunlight right in my face. So I don't want to hang out in my living room. I used to have terrible insomnia, so I try to subscribe to that method of thinking that the bed is meant only for sleeping (and other bed-type activities, if you like), so I don't want to hang out in my bedroom. And New Mexico is already on fire, so it's smoky and gross outside.

I arbitrarily decided almost a month ago to read ten books in one month. It's going swimmingly, and I'll do a real post about it later, but I'm nearing the end and surprisingly a tiny bit burnt out on reading.

Two weeks ago I had a horrible cold and spent four straight days on my couch watching movies and junk on Netflix. So I don't feel like watching anything.

It's too hot in my apartment to knit, because the only thing I'm excited to have on the needles right now is a sweater, which is like having a wool blanket in my lap. Again, in direct sunlight.

I found a cookie recipe I seriously want to try, but surprise! Too hot to bake.

What else is left? Just drinking, right? I should just go drink a lot. Nice cold gin and tonics, all day every day until this malaise passes. Right?