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Tuesday Project Roundup: Finally A Shirt

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My old roommate would buy huge quantities of soap and detergent and toilet paper and just stockpile them, telling me every time he added more, “It doesn’t go bad!”

Fortunately, the same thing is true of fabric.

I bought this slubby stretch linen/cotton in April last year, declaring it to be “the summer of shirts.” I cut it out and then it sat…and sat…and sat. I said I’d finish it this year for the Summer of Basics…and it still sat. But I finally finished it last month and got some pictures when I wore it yesterday.

Doing my best impression of a male model in a 70s turtleneck catalog

The pattern is the Grainline Archer, but this time I went up two full sizes–my first ones were a 4 in the shoulders grading to a 6 at the waist, and this is an 8 grading to a 10. It’s not that oversized now since I’m getting muscles, but it’s nice and relaxed. The sleeves ended up a little long but I can deal with it.

You can’t really see the detail in the fabric but there’s a hairline stripe. It’s sold out now–since this project took years–but I found it at Threadbare Fabrics. 

Friday Links

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I’ve got that December feeling where the days seem so long (and you’re ready to go to bed at 8:30 because it’s been dark for hours) but then you realize that Christmas is in two weeks and some change and you’re turning 39 in under a month and there’s still so much left TO DO, both for the holiday and your life!

So let’s distract ourselves from the unstoppable march of time with the internet:

1. There’s an Anni Albers exhibit at the Tate Modern in London, which would be amazing to see.

2. Also in “weaving” and “escapism,” this BBC feature on the last velvet merchant of Venice is worth the click.

“The company still uses the same ancient looms that Luigi Bevilacqua salvaged from the city’s abandoned silk guild decades after Napoleon conquered Venice and closed its mills in 1806.”

 

Advent Calendars

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I’m a few days late to the party, but The Atlantic is hosting Alan Taylor’s 11th annual Hubble Space Telescope Advent Calendar, a favorite around here. I used to talk about space a lot more, but things like this still get me (those are all mostly galaxies):

“The mass of this galaxy cluster is large enough to severely distort the spacetime around it, creating the odd, looping curves that almost encircle the cluster. These graceful arcs are examples of a cosmic phenomenon known as an Einstein ring. “

 

And via Kottke, I found A Christmas Movie A Day, which so far has featured great writing, old movies I want to add to my list (and also Batman Returns), and this gif of Katherine Hepburn dancing to bongos:

Another Sweater Bandwagon

By in knitting, Tuesday Project Roundup No Comments

I’m making something for my nephew and the yarn can’t be itchy, so I ordered the rainbow of Lion Brand Wool-Ease that I posted last Monday. While I was checking out, I threw in 6 balls of the Wool-Ease Thick & Quick to make a super-fast seamless sweater for me (or, the opposite of my Cline sweater, which is now seamed but still needs a neckband, longer sleeves, and another wet blocking to see if the sleeve caps unpucker or if I have to re-seam them).

I was pondering the Knitatude “Beginner Raglan” for my bulky yarn when Karen Templer posted about a pattern from Good Night, Day–the “Moonsonee Sweater”

As Karen said in her post, “Every detail is just right — the yoke depth vs body length and sleeve proportion … they just work. And the way she’s styled them here has my name written all over it.” INDEED.

I have to finish my nephew’s knitting but I’ll be starting this by the end of the month. Another year, another sweater directly inspired by Other Karen. That’s not creepy at all, right?

 

 

 

 

Friday Links

By in Friday Unrelated Information

1. Everything is mental health now! Even Peanuts! But seriously, this was a nice Twitter thread appreciating how open the comic was about poor Charlie Brown’s depression.

2. Kimberly Harrington has a magnificent satire up on McSweeney’s (in response to Jerry Seinfeld’s interview about Louis C.K. and “tense times in comedy,” linked in her piece). It’s written as a Seinfeld episode and not only is the voicing spot on, there are some sick burns in there, too. Seinfeld Ep 181: “The Grovel”

ELAINE
By the way, what was he even doing at the club
last night? I heard he spends all his time riding
around in his friend’s fancy car, drinking coffee.

JERRY
He dropped in for a surprise set.

ELAINE
So he’s still taking himself out in front of people,
even when no one asked him to.

KRAMER
Good one.

Thursday Poem

By in poems

Since it’s unofficial Mental Health Week, here’s a poem about finally feeling better. Luckily, my struggles have never been severe enough to make me consider suicide (parents! please don’t worry!) so this doesn’t apply literally–but the joy and the sheer relief are spot on. “Every day I wake up with my good fortune.”  Hallelujah, indeed.

 

Hammond B3 Organ Cistern
by Gabrielle Calvocoressi

The days I don’t want to kill myself
are extraordinary. Deep bass. All the people
in the streets waiting for their high fives
and leaping, I mean leaping,
when they see me. I am the sun-filled
god of love. Or at least an optimistic
under-secretary. There should be a word for it.
The days you wake up and do not want
to slit your throat. Money in the bank.
Enough for an iced green tea every weekday
and Saturday and Sunday! It’s like being
in the armpit of a Hammond B3 organ.
Just reeks of gratitude and funk.
The funk of ages. I am not going to ruin
my love’s life today. It’s like the time I said yes
to gray sneakers but then the salesman said
Wait. And there, out of the back room,
like the bakery’s first biscuits: bright-blue kicks.
Iridescent. Like a scarab! Oh, who am I kidding,
it was nothing like a scarab! It was like
bright. blue. fucking. sneakers! I did not
want to die that day. Oh, my God.
Why don’t we talk about it? How good it feels.
And if you don’t know then you’re lucky
but also you poor thing. Bring the band out on the stoop.
Let the whole neighborhood hear. Come on, Everybody.
Say it with me nice and slow
no pills  no cliff  no brains on the floor
Bring the bass back.    no rope  no hose  not today, Satan.
Every day I wake up with my good fortune
and news of my demise. Don’t keep it from me.
Why don’t we have a name for it?
Bring the bass back. Bring the band out on the stoop.
Hallelujah!

Let’s Talk About Mental Health

By in let's talk

I’m eight weeks into taking an SSRI for anxiety and six weeks into cognitive behavioral therapy and I honestly feel like I’ve discovered a magic trick. If you’ve been on the fence at all about getting help, here’s my story–I hope it will help convince you, because it took a long time to convince myself.

I’ve been anxious my whole life. Even as a little kid I worried obsessively about things that were never likely to happen. As an adult, worrying about everything seemed like a normal way to live and people who didn’t were just too stupid to not worry. I had panic attacks. I judged everyone constantly and gave myself the worst of it. I lived with so much fear about the present, the future, relationships, job performance, planes falling out of the sky, car crashes, animal welfare, social situations, doing it wrong, where “it” could be literally anything…I COULD GO ON. And on. And on.

Here’s the kicker–I thought I was coping pretty well. It took a whole combination of things to push me to get help: My favorite coworker talked openly about his wife taking medication for anxiety, at length, many times over the course of a couple years (thanks, Karl). My mom was diagnosed with cancer this year, so “coping” got a little harder. And a loved one sat me down and said, in short, “You’re really negative and it’s hard to be around.”

I didn’t know until I was taking the GAD-7 survey in the doctor’s office that irritability and judgment were a symptom of anxiety. And I had NO IDEA that therapy–especially CBT–gives you tools to help change your thought patterns. This seems as obvious as realizing that getting enough sleep makes you feel rested, or that lifting weights gives you muscles, but mental health was a mystery to me–maybe because I was so profoundly unhealthy, or maybe because I heard depression discussed a lot more than anxiety.

So I’m talking about it here. SSRIs are, in my opinion, a miracle of the modern age. I’m not a zombie; I don’t feel like my issues have just been numbed. I’m still myself–but it’s so much easier now to not let that self spiral into worry/negativity when things get rough. Therapy is fucking hard work and I have lifetime of distorted thinking to change, but feeling stronger mentally makes doing that work easier. And that work is so worth it. I can already feel the difference.

If I know you in real life (or even if I don’t) and you want to talk to me more about this, hit me up. And if I can help you find a doctor or therapist, let me know. If you are struggling, hang in there. There’s people and tools out there that can help. I didn’t really believe that until two months ago.

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