Adventures in knitting

It was one of those weekends.

You know...when you do alot of nothing.

I spend the lion's share of it trying to learn to knit. Lemme tell ya, I am seriously reconsidering my opinion of my intellectual status. You have to be a special kind of stupid to be outsmarted by yarn. When I went to look at knitting needles today (because surely, the needles I have are the problem, not my tiny pea brain) they had knitting needles for children. Yup, kids. Tiny little needles with sweet little bunny heads on the top.

After I got done stomping on them and cursing in arabic, I straightened myself back up and bought a new pair of size 6 needles. Turns out the only time in my life I will ever buy a size six is to knit. *eye roll*

I came home, and tried to use them. Yup, you guessed it. I couldn't do it.

What the hell man? I mean seriously, I can do pretty much anything. I don't say that with any sort of ego. By hook or by crook I can get stuff done. Stubborness is a highly underestimated quality, people, lemme tell ya.

But I cannot knit. At ALL.

I spent the entire weekend knitting 3 rows of yarn and unraveling them again and again. Knit, knit, cuss, unravel. Knit knit, cuss, throw needles, yell, unravel.

*sigh*

No big deal right? Oh but you don't know me. Until I learn to knit, it will bug the ever loving hell outta me.

And once I DO learn to knit I will be obsessed. Pretty soon you will come to my house and I will have knitted a toilet cover. And I will show it off to you. Cause thats how my crafty self rolls.

Ah yes, I am the chubby brunette Martha Stewart.

Stop laffin. I am, damnitt.

Okay, well two outta three ain't bad.