Guilt(y) Purchases

So I am one of those people who apologizes for asking people to perform the duties of their jobs. When I call the pharmacy, for example, I apologize for taking up the pharmacist's time. If I need to return something or ask a question of a sales associate, I apologize profusely for bothering them. Heaven forbid I do waste someone's time by asking after a product that the store doesn't carry or by starting to ask a question, only to answer it myself.

Perhaps I've worked a little bit too much in the realm of customer service, but I've acquired a very reluctant demeanor when it comes to taking up the time of people whose job it is (during working hours) to have their time taken up by me.

Call it silly, call it unnecessary, it nevertheless is.

Which leads me to yesterday's events.

I found that I had to go the yarn store; I needed to compared colors in real life and not just hope that my monitor and a website's camera were both calibrated the same so that I could make some informed purchases. I arrived at my nearest local yarn shop and, as per usual, I declined the offer of assistance when I walked through the door. I riffled for a bit through the sale section, got startled by another shop attendant while doing so (they're like ninjas!), and then made my way towards the Brown Sheep NatureSpun Sport. I was on a mission, detour aside.

So I plopped down in front of the display and began pulling colors to compare them to one another. I eventually found a combination that I found pleasing and was careful to put each skein back into the correct cubby to avoid confusion for future customers/sales folk.

And then I was done.

I rose and took a step towards the door. It was then that the guilt began. The nagging and the sense of being ungrateful for taking up floor space in the (admittedly large) store with my -brief- color comparison. So I wheeled around, piloted by the sense that I should really buy something, and inspected the shop's selection of cottons-- there had been two skeins of a cotton bouclé in the clearance section that were appealing to me but lacked sufficient yardage... no, no cotton today. So I looked over the Cascade 220-- nope, don't need/want any of that...

And it continued in this fashion. I'd pass a section, thinking maybe something would call to me and I could buy a little something to assuage the guilt I was feeling. I was asked again if I needed help: "No, no thank you. I'm just looking." I'd smile at that and try to ignore the somewhat bewildered expression on the saleswoman's face.

On an unrelated note, I tend to get strange looks in yarn stores. Apparently, being under 30 (40, 50?) in a yarn store means you don't know what you're doing and/or looking for.

I remembered that I'd been charmed by a pattern I'd seen on Ravelry a few days before-- Hanging Leaves from an upcoming book, Botanical Knits 2. Normally, I'd scoff at the suggestion that I should knit with laceweight as the pattern suggested... but I was getting desperate at this point. So I hunkered down in front of the Mountain Colors lace weight and perused the colors one by one.

I think I was making the shop ladies anxious... either that, or I'm projecting heavily my own feelings of unease on them.

Eventually, I came up with a pair of lace weights- a Mountain Colors and a skein of Classic Elite Silky Alpaca Lace. They're both very pretty, though not necessarily something I would purchase without the impetus of retail guilt.

I took my yarn selection to the counter, feeling relieved, and asked to pay for my purchases with store credit I'd previously accumulated. Of course, I apologized for having an unusual name that is difficult to spell and pronounce-- "Yes, that's it... sorry." It took the sales clerk a moment to find my store credit card, partially because my name was spelled incorrectly on it. "Yeah, sorry. Weird name."

With my purchase made, I quickly departed and found myself wondering what percentage of purchases are made strictly on the basis of guilt.

My friend recently told me that when she visited a country in Southeastern Asia (though, of course, I can't remember specifically which), she told me that if you go into a shop, you are compelled to buy something there. This is partially because the store owner proceeds to follow you around, asking you questions and trying to get you something you want, but partially because, as she explained it, the social contract there is that the very act of entering a store means you will spend money there.

Sometimes I feel similarly, especially small, boutique-style stores. Even departing with a cheerful "thank you!" after having looked around and found nothing to purchase leaves me cringing.

But maybe that's just me.

Still, I ended up with some pretty yarn and I'll be well prepared when this pattern does finally come out... hopefully, I can avoid too many awkward sensations of guilt between now and then.

Ode to a Good Blanket

Remember when I posted about the project that took forever? Well, I guess I should clarify somewhat. It did take forever, of course, and the project that I compared it to took even longer, but I actually have a WIP that has been on my needles off and on since July, 2012. Now, before you break out the inaccuracy pitchforks, know that it was an honest mistake. I tend to forget about this project, hence the stupid-long amount of time I've been working on this.

Introducing the small and needling thorn in my side: That New Crayon Smell.

Notice the fact that it is still a WIP and only about 60% completed of yet. After two years.

It started innocently enough, really. I had a few (okay, a lot) of skeins of Noro Kureyon on hand and I decided that rather than hoarding them like some kind of deranged wool-dragon, I should use them up.

You see, I had developed something of an obsession with Noro brand yarn. In particular, I found that almost every time I visited my LYS, I came away with another oddball skein of Kureyon. At the time, I was living in Santa Barbara, California and my favorite LYS was the incomparable Cardigans. Although there has been a change of ownership since I moved away, it appears that the legacy that Pam Price started there is still alive and well. This alone pleases me as I often wish I could visit Cardigans as easily as I could when I lived mere miles away. Cardigans is and always will be my ideal yarn shop.

During this time, I was working as a long-suffering waitress in downtown SB. I had a pleasant enough demeanor and I didn't spill things on guests too often so I made decent tips... the real problem is that I was deeply unhappy. Not necessarily with the job, not necessarily with my apartment or my car or what have you but the entire situation was entirely too taxing for me.

So that's how I ended up at Cardigans more often than not. I'd chat with Pam and sometimes I'd knit at the table with a few other regulars and usually, I'd spend a portion of my tips on a pretty, inexplicable ball of Kureyon. Unlike many of my purchases then and now, I didn't have a specific plan for the balls I purchased but I found their color and somewhat scratchy texture irresistible.

After I had amassed a not-insignificant number of skeins and schlepped them all the way to Colorado, I took it upon myself to finally do something with them.

After a bit of searching, I decided upon the pattern 64 Crayons by Amy Swenson. It definitely wasn't the most interesting pattern but, at the time, I wasn't feeling up to short rows so Lizard Ridge was out and the other patterns I found just weren't inspiring to me. So I selected the pattern, made my purchase, and then I noticed that this pattern had been written for the very purpose I intended to use it: to use up Kureyon that had been purchased as a band-aid measure to dissatisfaction. Seems I wasn't the only one who sought refuge in bright colors and familiar texture.

Another advantage of this pattern is that it is knit in strips. Essentially, it's like knitting a ribbed scarf a la Jared Flood's Noro Striped Scarf though, admittedly, shorter. So I set off with that in mind, to knit a strip every other project and eventually come out of it with a new woolen blanket. That was the plan, anyway.

In reality, I get distracted like a magpie. I rush off to the newest yarn (hello, Madelinetosh!), the newest pattern that I just have to make... and all the while, my patient blanket has been waiting for me, folded neatly with all its composite skeins in a large storage bag in my stash. I'm currently on the forth strip (2 small, 2 large total) of the six I'm meant to have for a decent-sized lap blanket.

And still the project abides, kind and waiting for me. On Valentine's Day, for example, I accidentally left my project bag in the booth of a Chinese Restaurant. I returned for it the next day (not before casting on for Khoshekh though, mind you), and promptly went upstairs to my current LYS. I was making a return, but I don't think my blanket strip would have much minded if I'd made another purchase, started yet another pattern while it continued to be put up on a shelf in favor of something more interesting.

I suppose that it's a good sort of sensation to get from a soon-to-be blanket; warm, acceptance. Heaven forbid I or anyone else ever try to knit a demanding, harsh blanket.

But I think I'll make a bit more of an effort on this project-- it's waited long enough and though the weather's been in the 50s and 60s, I could still use a nice blanket under which to curl up and relax.

We all could use that, I think.

A New Addition

I seem to have acquired a new pet today!

I was taking a stroll through my apartment complex when I noticed something rustling in a nearby bush. I approached cautiously and saw a curious but sweet little face peeking out at me:

He seemed friendly enough so after a moment of indecision with those big, opalescent eyes staring unblinkingly out at me, I carefully scooped him out of the brush.

I dusted him off a little bit he didn't seem too worse for wear... maybe a little bit stranger-looking than I might have originally thought...

In so much as I am knowledgeable about feline-cephalopod anatomy would allow, I determine that he was in good health... at least all of his little paws--tentacles were intact? He didn't have a nose as such so it was difficult to test whether or not it were cold and/or wet.

Best of all, though, he seems pretty friendly:

So I brought him inside and introduced him to Herr Kittie... thus far, Kittie is pretty ambivalent about our newest addition. I'm not too worried about either of them, though; Kittie is too lazy to fight and our new house guest appears to have the ability to stick to any surface, making a quick escape simply of matter of slithering up the nearest wall.

I hope he'll be happy here, but I'm worried he might be getting a little home sick:

Plausible Map of Night Vale by Melissa Dalton

Things are good here and I am most pleased with my newest project, Octopuss by Jill Watt. I couldn't resist using the pattern to make myself one of my favorite characters from my favorite podcast, Welcome to Night Vale, Khoshekh! 

If you are into any and all things H.P. Lovecraft, or Twin Peaks, or just general weirdness, check out Welcome to Night Vale.

I hope everyone had a lovely Valentine's Day and an equally nice weekend. I myself just wanted to do a quick, silly post because I was just too excited about my newest FO.

Also, I just wanted to give you all a heartfelt thank you for bringing my modest blog to over 200 pageviews. I am thrilled-beyond-thrilled to offer words and pictures and much silliness to all of you. Thank you!