Bookworm

Is anyone interested in going to hear John Banville speak at the Free Library on 13 March? I had to read one of his books for an Anglo-Irish fiction course I took at UCC, Copernicus, I think it was (I didn't care a lot for it, but I'm not as interested in historical fiction as others are), and I've been very interested in reading more of his work since he was first nominated for and then won the Booker prize last year. I'm not sure why, but it's the only book prize that holds any real weight for me. Anyhow, let me know if you'd be interested in attending.

We've decided not to move this year, but I'd like to continue with the paring down of our possessions. There are a great many books on our shelves right now, but aside from those that are yet to be read, I feel like I've really managed to rid myself of all but the most important books in my collection. What books or authors do you collect? I find that my 'can't-part-withs' fall into four categories: Neil Gaiman, Jeanette Winterson, contemporary Irish lit, and favorites. The first three are the ones I've decided that I want to collect (I love Gaiman and Winterson, and I want to be well-versed in Irish C.Lit), and the favorites is probably the most telling. Some of them overlap Sarah's collections, but I'll list them here anyway because even if she stopped collecting them, I would snarl and bite anyone who tried to take them away.

• All Good Things... by Michael Jan Friedman
  Wow, if a book ever changed my life, this one was it. I saw it at Meijer, and I thought, How sad that this huge thing is ending, and I've never known any of it... Well, I managed to convince my mom to buy it for me, and I read it, and then I started obsessively watching the show. I taped reruns and poured over books devouring every minute detail about Star Trek that I encountered. Then when my friends got into Trek and we found more friends, we formed clubs and wrote nerdy fan letters to the likes of Terry Farrell and Marina Sirtis (both of whom have provided me with autographed photos). We attended conventions and ruled our lives by the whims of the shows' producers. And I fell out of love with Trekdom for a while. Then, before I flew to Ireland--literally, on the car ride to Chicago-O'Hare--I reread this book because it was the most comfortable, stablest thing I could think of connecting with before my whole world dropped away from me. And I found reruns on Sky-One (I even skipped history lectures when my favorite episode of season seven aired), so my flatmates were converted. Now, Sarah has been converted, too, and we went to a convention together this past year (though it was dismal and unlike the ones I'd attended in their heyday). I love this book and everything it represents.


• The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery
  I honestly can't tell you why this book holds such a special place in my heart. I read it on a whim in high school, then I read it in French so I could have an excuse to not pay attention in my dreary French classes. I have two copies of it--the original copy I got from a used bookstore in the Homeland, and a beautiful, hardback, illustrated copy in French that Viviane's parents gave me when they came to collect her after our year in Cork. I think it's an important book, and I need to reread it soon.


• The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy
  This is unquestionably my favorite book of all time. And it's not for everyone, I know, but never before or since has a book made such a tremendous, profound emotional impression on me. I started rereading it as I was reading it because I just couldn't absorb enough of its magic and I didn't want it to end. It's been a while since I last read it, but I think I'd feel off not having it near.


• On the Beach by Nevil Shute
  Here is the book that's technically part of Sarah's collection as it falls into the category of post-apocalyptic fiction that she so adores. I read it last summer when I needed a 'beach book' to take my mind off of the screaming-children job, and it ended up leaving a very strong impression on me. I think often of its implications, and I have to admit that when I see a map of Australia with the names of cities that were visited in the book, a part of me cringes in sadness. It left me feeling this profound sense of loss, and unlike most of the books on this list, I think it's accessible to everyone.


• The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
  Isn't this every angsty, teen author's favorite book? I wasn't actually as angsty as most, but I truly appreciated the frank portrait of depression that Plath created. I thought she was amazing, and I'm glad that I discovered her when I did because she opened up my entire creative world in a way I didn't know was possible.

Right now, I'm waffling back and forth between deep books (The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers and Weight by Jeanette Winterson) and fluff (Bill Bryson and nothin' else but), and honestly, I'm just glad to be reading. I have a tendency to fall into and out of reading spurts as my hobbies have problems getting along together. Tell me what you're reading or what your favorite books are.

Friends of the Aural Variety

Since I quit the community center job, I've been doing temp work scanning documents. My attention span for music tends to be very short while I'm working, so I used the time to catch up on all the back episodes for the four or five podcasts I had subscribed to. With at least six hours a day or listening time, I quickly blew through all those archives and have been progressively adding new podcasts to my library ever since. I started out with knitting podcasts, and added some of the highly regarded ones that my favorite podcasters enjoyed, and eventually, somehow, I started checking out NPR.

I've tried getting into NPR numerous times since I first learned what it was in high school. Somehow, I just could not fathom what was so amazing about listening to classical music and bands I'd never heard of in between news segments. I didn't understand the format at all, and it just broke my brainy little heart that I couldn't be a part of this world of witty, informed public radio listeners. I felt so dull and unintelligent.

Thank the gods for podcasting, because now I finally feel like I'm part of the brainy in-crowd. Isn't it peculiar what things different people put on pedestals?

Jimmy, if you like podcasts or public radio at all, check out A Way With Words. Especially any archives that might be available because the male host who just retired is exactly how I imagine you if you got into radio. Fully of nerdy, punly goodness. Yea!

I'm now subscribed to probably 30 podcasts, almost all of which I've managed to remain updated with, which is almost sad when you consider who little human interaction I get daily. The podcasts are a result of that lack of interaction, though, not because of it. I guess the voices on the other end of my headphones keep me company, in a way. So even though I don't have friends to chat with throughout the day, I'm never lacking in good knitting/political/etymological/sarcastic conversation.

Insert Clever Title Here

I'm feeling kind of restless this evening, though I've no real idea as to why. Perhaps there's a store of creative energy sitting around waiting to be utilised, or perhaps I am simply in need of some social interaction. In reality, both are likely culprits of my distraction. At the very least, they are aiding and abetting.

This past weekend, we had the Phillyknitters Secret Pal reveal, and I was pleasantly surprised all around. My pal, Megan liked the hat that I knit her (and it ended up being just the right color for her--hurrah!), and I found out that Sam was the one sending me gifties. Seeing as how I'm an utter crap blogger of late (okay, who am I kidding? it's been something like two years of crappy blogging...), I never posted to say thanks for the copy of La Dolce Vegan or the mix CD I received. I'm looking forward to cooking something tasty out of the book, and the CD is amazingly perfect for me. He even included geeky sci-fi songs like the Star Trek movie theme.

But best of all, he knit me a scarf! If I knew a smiley symbol that embodied the giddiness of receiving a hand-knitted item that I really, truly adore, well, it would be sitting in the space of all these words. It's a lovely reddy-colored, alpaca, lacy bit of softness that is completely comfortable and warm and unobtrusive. I really needed a scarf, and for all the lack of posting I did during the secret pal-ing, I am utterly gobsmacked that he made me something so perfect. So Sam, if you're reading this, thank you thank you thank you in spades (and hearts and diamonds and clubs) because you've been far and away the very best secret pal I've ever had.

And loosely related to a point in a previous paragraph, I would like to thank the ever groovy Jimmy for the mix CD you made for my birthday. I finally got around to uploading it to my ipod (labelling shit in itunes and then importing it and all that...sigh...lazy fuck that I am), and I have to say, your taste in music has certainly maintained its level of coolness. It rocks, and I'm totally with you on 'Lotion.' Fuckin' a, that's some fabulous psychosis.

While I'm yappin' about people, I'd like to welcome Holly to the blogosphere. Reading your blog makes me want to post more often.

Anyhow, I feel a little overwhelmed as I have a lot that I want to say, but I'm not sure how to get it out or put it together or anything, and I don't want to just blab it all at once and be silent for another two months. But I want to work on having a voice again and censoring myself less. Perhaps I'll post more often.

2006 Mix

I just completed my 2006 Mix CD playlist. If you're interested in swapping, drop me a line at krista [at] monochromaticgirl [dot] com, and we can switch things up.

Stash Knitting '07

One of the knit blogs I read regularly is Wendy Knits!. She and a friend have decided to seriously attack their yarn stashes by not buying more yarn for the first nine months of the year. I've decided to join them because I've acquired a bunch of yarn, and I've not managed to knit much of it. As such, here are the rules that I am following, adopted from Wendy's rules:

Knit From Your Stash 2007: Guidelines for Krista

1. The Knit-From-Your-Stash-a-Thon will start January 1, 2007 and run through September 30, 2007 -- a period of nine months (eep!).

2. I will not buy any yarn during that period, with the following exceptions:
a. Souvenir/vacation yarn does not count.
b. If I am knitting something and run out of yarn, I may purchase enough to complete the project.
c. I get one "Get Out of Jail Free" card -- I am allowed to fall off the wagon one time.

3. I am allowed to receive gifts of yarn.

I also plan on not knitting much for others. I said that this year would be my year of selfish knitting, and instead, I've ended up knitting less because I started so many things for others that I hadn't planned on doing. The fact that no one else will love my knitting as much as I will keeps slipping my mind, and I need to make it my knitting mantra. It would probably also behoove me to join a few knitting groups and go regularly. So that's my plan.

Idle Hands

Originally uploaded by monochromaticgirl.

It's time for another self-conscious, downer girl post. Woo-hoo.

I'm feeling very sub-par today and recently. I'm not sad, per se, but there's a sense of mediocrity and disappointment wafting about me. And while I have Death Cab for Cutie on repeat, I thought it appropriate to vent. That's what any sensible goth girl would be doing, anyway. Life is pain, anyone?

I don't really think so. My life isn't really so melodramatic. I go to work, I come home, and between bouts of semi-fulfilling sleep, I manage to live a life that I feel too privileged to really despair. On some level, I recognize that I have enough. More than I need, really. That part of me is the one aching for the gentle, cleansing balance of a Buddhist takeover of my world. A contradiction. What I feel like. I'm happy in my head, and yet I'm not. Things just aren't very clear about me to me anymore.

The person I was is not the person I am. Is not the person I am going to be. But where do all these beings exist together? The common thread is what I'm seeking. In addition to fulfillment. But what is it that I want? What do I want to do? Want do I want to care about or be good at?

Feh.

My apologies for disappearing for such an extended period. I am starting to recognize that people do care when I go away, but it's really difficult to convince myself of that most of the time.

Ramble, Ramble

Maddie is giving me the evil eye across the room. I don't know why, but I'm sure she doesn't either, so I guess everything is okay.

Today has been slothful and full of television. When I got up, it was too cold to feel motivated, and after I showered, I realized that it was probably even colder outside (though I may very well be wrong about that last conclusion, what with the no heat in our apartment thing), so what was the point in going out? I can handle a good degree of chill in the air outside, but when I'm faced with a frigid building/house/room, I am oddly frozen in place. Coincidence or pun, I am not sure. Perhaps I will feel a stronger pull to go outside tomorrow.

I think that if I could conceive of a good place to go and just hang out that didn't require me to spend money, I would have better impetus to go there, you know? To go to a cafe or coffeeshop, one must buy a snack, meal, or beverage. To go to a yarn store, one must be either interested in buying something or willing to chat with anyone who enters. I like many of the staffers at my LYS, but I don't always want to chat in order to spend time somewhere. Can one go to the library and sit and knit or is that frowned upon? On weekends, I often consider hopping onto one of the regional rail lines and riding the train until the end of the line so I have somewhere to knit in relative peace (SEPTA allows anyone with a transpass to ride the regional rail for no extra charge on weekends). I guess I don't do that because it implies a serious time committment. Trains run infrequently on the weekends, so if I felt the need to turn around at any point along the way, I might have to wait a while for an inbound train to collect me.

Ramble ramble.

(Or wrangle, wrangle.)

So anyhow, I'm here at home doing not much. I am working on the last few rounds of a proto-type hat pattern. It's a really nice pattern (nothing especially complicated), and I've gotten some compliments on it from non-knitters. When I'm done with that, I'm going to finish up the first in a pair of socks I was working on for my grandmother's birthday. It's been sitting in wait for a few weeks, but I'd like to get a few more things off my needles, so I'm going to try and do that. I hate having 18 billion projects in the works, you know? In order to unclutter the project section of my brain, I'm also going to be frogging some truly languishing UFOs soon. Why make myself feel guilty with my good intentions that never materialized?