MDSW Festival: The Prequel

Over the last several years my girlfriend Whiskers and I have made an unofficial tradition of going to the Maryland Sheep & Wool Festival (MDSW) together. Last year I’d forgotten all about the festival until the last minute. Not only that, Novio, whom I was just getting to know had come to town expecting to spend that Sunday with me. I was really conflicted because I wanted to spend time with both of them and I couldn’t miss the festival. The only solution I could come up with was to take him to the festival. Convincing him to change his plans was easy, the difficult part was telling Whiskers we’d be a threesome (with a non-knitter/crocheter, no less). When I called Whiskers and explained my dilemma, she told me not to worry, that she’d go on her own. Phew! I thought.

Then as the months went by she made half-joking comments at a couple knitting gatherings about how I’d kicked her to the curb and had taken this new guy to MDSW instead. At first I felt bad because that was exactly what I had tried to avoid. It really upsets me when girlfriends ditch me whenever a new man is in their lives*, and hated that I was being accused of doing that very thing. Finally I decided that I couldn’t change how I’d handled that situation, but could certainly do my best to prevent it from happening next May.

Fast forward to Spring 2008. Novio mentions that he’s making plans to come visit on the first weekend of May. But that’s when MDSW takes place, I explain. Exactly, he says. He had such a good time last year that he wanted to do it again this year. Groan… So I had to gently let him know what sort of position he put me in last year, that I wasn’t trying to repeat it and that Whiskers would resume her role as my MDSW companion. Besides, there are other festivals I have never been to, which he and I could explore together. He was rather put out because he truly was looking forward to going again, but eventually he came around to seeing things from my point of view and apologized. So this summer or autumn we’re going to check out a couple smaller festivals on the East Coast and in the Midwest.

*a subject for an all-together separate post

Will you make me a hat/sweater/etc.?

This started out being part of the previous post, but when I began writing the response I realized that it required its own post. Most of my public knitting and crocheting is done on the bus or subway. I usually sit near the front of the bus. Invariably, bus drivers will strike up a conversation with me. Sometimes they flirt and want to exchange telephone numbers (not happening). Half the time they will ask, “Will you make me a hat/sweater/et cetera?” I usually say, “Sorry, I don’t have the time.” And that’s the end of that.

The last time a bus driver asked me to make him something was two days ago. His exact question was, “When you gonna make me a sweater?” It took me a moment to formulate an appropriate answer. You see, homeboy weighs at least 400 pounds (almost 200 kg). I wanted to say, “Where do you get off? Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? You could blow one week’s salary just on the purchase of the yarn.” Instead I said, “I only knit for myself and for my friends’ babies.” His response? “I’ll be your baby, if that’s what it takes.” I couldn’t help it, I laughed out loud in his face.

Are you a romantic or a realist?

You Are A Realist

When it comes to romance, you tend to take a realistic approach. You believe that love takes time, and it's something you have to work hard for. A bit cynical, over the top romance tends to get under your skin. Your heart is difficult to win ... but it's totally worth it.

Are You Romantic or Realistic?

Yes, much to the chagrin of my boyfriends, I am a realist. And because of the unexplainable way the world works, I’ve often ended up with ultra-romantic men. Since women are supposed to be the romantic ones, this has often caused friction. Sigh.

In Honor of Ex-Boyfriends

Often, when we think about our romantic past, we tend to dwell on the jerks we’ve dated----you, know, the ones who acted like it was their job to load us down with emotional baggage. But today I’d like to honor two men whom I truly loved (still do, but in a different way, now) and for whom I have fond memories: Sapito & Choufleur.

With them I had trust, respect and love. They were also intelligent, hardworking, witty, handsome, sensitive, yet manly. We remained friends after the breakups. I knew that they would someday become good husbands and fathers (and they did). Three cheers for good men. Hip-hip hooray! Hip-hip hooray! Hip-hip hooray!

On a fiber-related note, the first hat I ever crocheted was for Choufleur (as per his request). I made my best effort considering that it was the first time and I wasn’t using a pattern. When I presented it to him he laughed. Not tee-hee----more like a guffaw. Several loud guffaws followed by a fit of giggles. Seeing my annoyance, he said “Thank you, honey,” and then pranced around the house like a clown with it on. Granted, it looked afflicted, but, dude, couldn’t you have held the ridicule ‘til a little later? Anyway, I forgave him.

It is detrimental for singles to read articles about the benefits of marriage.

Back in 2000 I read an article that said that married people have better health than those who are single “Well, we better hurry up and jump the broom,” I joked to the guy who I was sort-of-but-not-really-dating.* Since there were no eligible young men around, I figured it was my fate to just die the (early) death of a solterona.

As if that were not enough, now there’s an article that says that married people are better for the environment than those who live alone. So now I’m responsible for earth’s ecological demise? Dang, I might as well just jump off my balcony and end it all. At least, as a decaying body, I’ll be doing something good by fertilizing the soil. Ha!

By the way, let it be known that I do not want to be buried when I die. I want to be cremated. Yes, throw all 160 pounds of me into the old incinerator. I do not need to be taking up space and wasting money when I’m dead. Use that money to help educate Sobrino & Sobrina. I am dead serious.

Speaking of death…not to be morbid or anything, but death is a fact of…er…life. Here’s some useful information to help prepare for it. Hope you won’t need it anytime soon, if you know what I mean.

Avoid Common Mistakes on Your Will

Save money on a funeral

*Soapbox moment: Girls, women, sisters…do not allow yourself to get tangled up in a sort-of-but-not-really relationship with a man. An undefined relationship almost always benefits the man and almost always screws over the woman. Learn from my mistake. ‘Nuff said.

Old Finished Projects

crocheted scarf
yarn: Peaches & Creme 100% cotton (two balls)
hook: 3 ¾ mm/US F
pattern: nine rows of double crochet
comments: When I first moved to the DC area my only scarf was a red, yellow and green one I had crocheted in honor of my Guinean dance instructor. African men on buses and trains would see me wearing it and use it as a point of conversation. Most African men I have come across tend to be very persistent and won’t take no for an answer (huge turn-off), so, to avoid unwanted attention, I bought yarn and a hook and crocheted this scarf and retired the old one.

I was an intermittent crocheter. I’d have a few months of frenzied activity followed by several months, or even a couple years, of inactivity. Making this scarf was the beginning of a new period of crocheting activity during which I learned how to knit. Now that I have two crafts to choose from, I can switch off between the two and haven’t had any more periods of craft inactivity.



first (second, third, fourth) hat
yarn: 100% hand-painted wool
needles: 5 mm/US 8
pattern: 2x2 rib in the round, crocheted tassels
comments: This is the first hat I ever knit. It’s beginning to look a bit worn out, but I still wear it. I knit it without a pattern and without making a swatch, therefore had to pull it out and re-knit it three times (too small, then too wide, then too pointy). This explains why I never wove in the end at the bottom. I wasn’t sure if I was going to have to re-knit the fourth attempt, so I just let it hang.

From this experience I learned the importance of swatching. I still rarely follow a pattern, though.

Mystère, et Boules de Gomme

In 2003 I developed a serious crush on Frodo. When I say serious, I mean the kind that I hadn’t had since high school. The sort of crush that, when he walked into the room, I’d get all flustered, didn’t know how to act or what to say. He was witty, intelligent, professional, well-read, artistic, handsome, Christian, well-traveled, tall, of color, urbane, and belonged to Generation X—in short, he seemed to be the complete package. Problem is, although he was aware of my existence, he showed no interest in me whatsoever.

This past autumn I ran into Frodo at an event and he was all extra-friendly as if we were long-lost friends. I was like, “What the hell?” Now that I’m not interested (though I still find him fine as all get-out) he decides to show me some of the attention I craved a few years ago. What gives? Oh, and that day I was not looking extraordinary. My clothes were plain and my hair was barely cooperating.

I don’t harbor any hard feelings. Who knows what was going on in his life back when I was interested in him. I’m just perplexed. Talk about bad timing. When I would have melted at just a few words directed my way (and he had a three-year window), he barely spoke to me. Now that I have a boyfriend he seems interested. There must be a name for this sort of thing--Murphy’s Law doesn’t quite fit. Any ideas?

Rants, a Healthy Outlet for the Opinionated

One of the many reasons I had to start a blog is because, as mentioned in the second post, I’m an opinionated person. I don’t expect you to agree with me, but I must feel like I’m being heard. That was a great source of strife and misunderstanding between Herr Sowieso (an ex-boyfriend) and me. He thought I was trying to convince him when all I really wanted was to make my opinions known so he could have a more accurate picture of who I was. Not only that, among his other flaws, he was lazy—not academically or careerwise—he was interpersonally lazy. He preferred to learn a tiny bit about people and then promptly put them in box. Since I defy categorization, that was another source of contention between us. He’s out of my life now, and good thing too, because I dislike who I was becoming when we were together. Anyway, this post is not about him. If I ever get in the mood I can tell you more about him some other time. Back to the subject at hand…

As an opinionated person I have 101 rants roiling inside me on any given day. My friends have heard their fair share of them. The problem is that sometimes I forget whom I’ve already told what and repeat myself. I figure that if I write down my rants it will quiet the roiling and I won’t feel the need to voice them because they will be ‘out there’ already. We’ll see if it that works.

The Marvels of Facebook (part 2 of 2)

There is a guy who developed a crush on me last year. I never gave him a chance because he’s 20 and I’m in my 30’s. I don’t mind younger men, but five years is my limit, and the age difference between us is much more than that. I mean really, the year I graduated from university he was probably in kindergarten. “Age ain’t nothing but a number,” he says. Yeah, whatever.

This autumn he sent me an e-mail inviting me to his network of friends on Facebook. Although I’d ignored several invitations to join social networking services from others before, this time I decided to go ahead and do it. As expected, I didn’t know any of his friends. However, I did find one of my former piano students through one of his friends’ networks, which was nice. I didn’t do much else with Facebook after that.

Two days ago I received a one-line message through Facebook that read “Did you visit Vienna during the late 1990s?” It was Fola! I was shocked. It turns out she did a search for me in Facebook and found my name. Although there was no photo (haven’t uploaded one yet), she went out on a limb and sent the message. How cool is that? To reconnect after ten years! I am really looking forward to this new-old friendship.