Can't. Stop. Knitting...

     I finished knitting the Purple Camo Shawl for Wendy. It took a little less than a month, and more yarn than I had originally bought for it... But everything is good. There was a sale on yarn at Michael's last week, and I made Roomie C drive me, along with Roomie P, to go buy more. On the other hand, having no knitting to do yesterday left me so confused. I was at my wits' end trying to keep myself occupied and entertained all day. I now have an almost obscene amount of Sugar n' Cream yarn in my stash. Which has expanded into two totes now! 

     Unfortunately, the cotton is "off-limits" till next Wednesday. I decided to start a Thing A Day challenge for February, and I challenged a few of the local furries to join me in it. I know Hazy is going to join me at it. I think Stormy said she'd think about doing a Drawing A Day. I'm trying to get Roomie P to agree, but she's so unsure of herself sometimes... So, my TAD goal is to knit a washcloth every day. I'll probably get so bored by the pattern by the time a month is over, but I'll be able to put them away for any time I need a quick, "last-minute" gift.

     I can't wait to get to the store to make the still-promised Giftmas present for a certain lioness I know. And then I can get the pretty, sparkly yarn I want to make MY shawl! Because I certainly deserve something I can knit for myself! And it will be so awesome to have a handknit shawl at Anthrocon! Everyone will be so jealous!

     Let's see... What else is in my To Knit list? I was planning to make myself a hat, but I might run out of winter before I actually sit down and do that. I'm organizing a group to make afghan square to donate an afghan for Anthrocon's charity auction in 2013. Hmm...I might even pull out some of the RHSS stash and make some for an afghan to keep at home...

     It's funny...I opened up the computer with the intent of ranting about how upset I was at something. At a friend who is on the verge of sabotaging a relationship they tried to have for over a year. And to complain about how unfair it is that someone could throw away such love and devotion for a piece of tail...when I'm sitting at home just wishing that someone wanted just to be near me... But after typing just a few sentences, all I could think about was knitting, and I couldn't help but smile! So I need to share more of my fleeting joy. Can't let it get away!

Living the life I have

     I realize that my posts are quickly becoming more and more sporadic, but I have a very good reason. I've actually been living my life, rather than talking about living. I'm having a great time hosting our monthly furry parties. This last one was something special.

     We had between 30 and 40 people show up at our apartment on Friday the 13th. I'm just lucky that they all didn't feel the need to spend the night as was expected. I got to meet so many people that I talk to online, as well as a few completely new people.

     That Saturday, I spent much of the day hanging out with a few of the people who stayed after breakfast. As an added bonus, it was a group of girls who stayed. It's been too long since I hung out with a group of women. Nothing really special happened other than a feeling of closeness and camaraderie.

     The other thing I've been doing a lot of is knitting. And I do mean a lot. I passed the halfway point on the purple camouflage shawl I'm knitting for my sister. I'm still not positive about the dimensions I've set, but it's a little too late. Besides, it's already using up more yarn than I'd allotted for it. I'm now debating fringe vs. border. I'm leaning towards a purple fringe, but I won't know till I get enough yarn to finish the shawl. No sense planning the finishing touches till I've actually gotten that far!

     Now, I'm off to do more laundry, since the cat was tunneling through my blankets last night.

I am homeless

      Not literally! I want to clear that up right away. I have a roof over my head and a place to sleep everyday, clean clothes to wear and enough food to eat everyday. I pay rent and utilities. But this place is just an apartment. And I want to go home. To that place where everything in there is yours. A safe, warm, welcoming haven from the big, bad outside world.

     I grew up with divorced parents. When I was young, I had two homes. When I was 20, I moved out on my own. That became home. For several years, I moved from place to place, and each place I lived was home, even if only for a short time. I was moving forward in my life and everything was a step toward some unknown goal. It's funny, but after a few years on my own, my parents' houses were no longer my home. I felt like a guest. I felt I could no longer just walk in whenever I wanted and just make myself comfortable.

     I accepted this, and kept moving forward. I met a man and got married. We made our own home. It was cozy and warm and wonderful. Right up until the relationship went sour. It became a place I dreaded. It had been violated. My home was no longer cozy and safe. But it was still my home! I kept going back every day, and hoping that things would get better again.

     Unfortunately, the time came to leave. I took what I could, and moved in with some very good friends. The place where I live now is very nice. It is filled with laughter and love. But it is not a home. It's a very nice hotel, but it's just a stop along the way.

     I don't like this idea of floating about without an anchor. That cozy, safe haven is the place where we can return and withdraw, to heal our hearts and minds. So, yeah. This is what I'm missing. And I can't wait to find my next home.

Little sisters need not read this

     I hate my little sister. Well, if I told you about our history, you'd certainly believe it. Let's take a brief stroll down memory lane, shall we?

• Age 3 - I vaguely remember Mommy having a big belly and telling me that I was going to have a little sister.
• Age 4 - I have more fuzzy memories of holding a squirmy thing that I could barely wrap my arms around. And being told to be quiet, so I didn't wake the baby. 
• Age 8 - Everywhere I went, I had this goofy little kid who wanted to follow me. And my parents insisted I take her with me. My friends didn't want to play with a four-year-old baby.
• Age 12 - I was old enough to babysit, but not old enough for her to listen to me. The arguments were vicious. And I always got in trouble, even when she was the one misbehaving.
• Age 15 - I won the state FBLA competition. When I called home to tell Mom about it, no one was home. Wendy was being admitted to the hospital, and when I finally did reach Mom on the phone, that was all she cared about, not what I had accomplished.
• Age 19 - Things started getting ugly. We didn't just yell at each other. The fights were starting to get physical. There was on incident where Wendy threw a bowl at the chandelier above my head, shattering the glass. On another occasion, there was a wrestling match over the fact that she didn't want me using "her phone."
• Age 27 - I was living on my own. Mom called needing me to do stuff for her, because my sister hadn't. That spoiled little brat still got to live at home rent free, but I had to bail Mom out of trouble? There was a fight so bad, I told her not to even come to my wedding when it happened.
• Age 29 - Wendy started getting sick. I knew better the whole time, but I was sure she did this just to ruin my wedding!
• Age 30 - She was diagnosed with Lupus. We still weren't talking because of the fights we'd had the last few years.
• Age 34 - She is my best friend. We talk via text or Facebook every day. How the hell did this happen??

     I'd heard over the years about how important sisters could be. Everyone would tell me that when I grew up, my sister would become my best friend, but I always thought they were full of it. It's funny the way things work, but I wouldn't trade her for the world! No one else has been through all the crap with me, from our parents' divorce to my bad marriage. 

     I had a lot in mind that I wanted to say, but since it's slipped my mind, I'll just say this. I love my sister. I'd kill for her. I'd die for her. I wish I could do more for her when her lupus causes problems, but if all I can do is listen and hurt from 2500 miles away, I'll keep doing that!

I feel like the only one suffering

     I can't take much more. I hate seeing all these people around me who are in love. I hate knowing there are people who are disgustingly happy with each other. I hate feeling this bitterness when I see them touching, or holding hands. The worst is when people spend the night in my apartment, curled up together under one blanket, holding each other safe from the outside world. I don't remember the last time someone wanted to hold me close. I'm sure I don't remember the last person who wanted to protect me from anything.

     I want this to go away. I don't want to be miserable and alone anymore. Don't take that the wrong way. I'm not in a hurry to rush in to some ill-thought relationship. I still have no plans to date any time soon. I'm far too unbalanced to make rational decisions in that direction. But the solitary life doesn't have to mean the emotional isolation I feel surround me. I want to have a normal social life, and not worry that I'm over-reacting to the past eight years.

     I'm sure it's not normal to wonder if the people talking to you really like you, or if they're just putting up with you. It's not reasonable to think you have to constantly do favors for people so they will stay your friend. It's not healthy to constantly pretend to be cheerful, because you're sure no one will like you if they know you get depressed. It's not good to hide so no one knows you think like this.

     I want to stop crying. I want someone to hold me and tell me everything's going to be alright. I want to be normal and not feel the need to write these incoherent piles of emotion.