home.
I am back home in Cambridge after a whirlwind weekend in London (Friday) and Amsterdam (Friday night to Sunday).
If I’m given the opportunity to sit down, there is an 86% probability that within five minutes I’ll be asleep. Considering that I’m currently propped up on my elbows on my wonderfully comfortable Cambridgeshire bed, you’ll probably have to wait a couple days for those travel entries to arrive (in pieces).
To tide you over, here is a silly and pointless blog entry about tights, inspired by the wonderful tights I’ve seen in Europe. (They’ve mostly been in England, actually. My style is apparently much more like that of Londoners than Europeans on the continent.)
reasons why tights are amazing:
1) You don’t have to shave your legs.
2) If you weigh more than 100 pounds, your thighs probably touch. (Please tell me I’m not just a beefy-thighed anomaly here?!) It’s a terrible feeling, especially when it is hot outside, and tights prevent this horror.
3) They keep out light chills, so you can wear a dress even when the temperature drops. They don’t feel bulky and hot in the summer. They are amazing as an extra layer under jeans when it gets wintry. They are perfect for all weather conditions!
4) They come in BRIGHT COLORS.
5) They cover bruises and scrapes if (like mine) your legs look like they belong to a tree-climbing ten-year-old.
6) They provide some degree of modesty when you are wearing a skirt/dress on a bike on a windy day.
7) They are enough to keep an ankle brace from hurting/chafing. (This means footless tights + ankle brace can be worn for yoga and any tights +ankle brace can be worn with sandals!)
reasons why tights are not as amazing as I want them to be:
1) They make your feet sweat.
(Buy footless tights! Problem solved).
2) One-size-fits-all tights are not long enough if you’re over 5’5".
(Again–footless tights! Or just take out the stitching at the toe and make them footless.)
3) Most tights have a rougher thread or stiffer knit around the upper thigh (I suppose to compress/stay in place), and this makes the backs of my legs very itchy after a couple hours.
(I have no solution to this problem and it makes me very sad).
4) They run easily.
(Solutions: have a huge tight collection, keep clear nail polish on hand, and continue wearing hole-y tights but remain oblivious to the fact that you’re probably starting to edge toward "homeless" in the eyes of any observers playing the "hipster v. homeless" game.
A scattered bunch of observations
I’ve been across the ocean for more than a week now! I’ve learned a great number of very important things about England (and more specifically, Cambridge).
1) You know how Texans (and people from everywhere, really) like to say, "If you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes and it’ll change"? Well guys, let me tell you–Texas has got nothin’ on England. The weather changes every millisecond. It seems to rain once an hour, then get hot, then get cold, then get cloudy, then the entire sky will be bright and sunny and yet the raindrops from the one cloud in the sky will FOLLOW YOU while you ride your bike.
2) After it rains (which is every five seconds), there are snails everywhere. These critters are adorable. I spent a good twenty minutes picking them up and playing with the ones that appeared near my flat yesterday afternoon.
3) There is a fudge shop in the city center and I’ve already been there twice. Once I got an autumn flavored fudge–it was maple with dried fruit and nuts and was super delicious. The next time I got a Belgian chocolate swirl fudge. The autumn fudge was sold to me by a friendly guy who chatted with me about what I was doing in Cambridge. The chocolate was sold to me by some grumpy girl that got mad at my debit card and made me pay in cash (the guy took my card and was perfectly jolly!). Anyway. This fudge shop is definitely contributing to my travel weight gain…
4) PINT ≠ BOTTLE
Okay, yes, I know this should be obvious. But for some reason my squirrely little brain decided to assume the two were equivalent. 16 ounces per cider…also contributing to travel weight-gain.
5) On the topic of alcohol: I made two hilarious rubbish-sightings (while hopelessly lost) a couple nights ago.
WHAT IS THIS
A two litre plastic bottle of Strongbow. Oh dear god. Where can I buy this stuff?
6) Tesco sells this peach flavored water that I should find disgusting, but I’m kind of in love with it. Yes, it is sickly-sucralose-sweet. No, I do not care. Tesco is right across the street from my house. Peach water and chocolate oranges on my way home from DAMPT? Yes please.
7) Sometimes the maps on the side of the road do not have north facing up. It is important to take note of this fact, because it just so happens that when you (more specifically: ME, Friday night) are biking home from a pub at 1 AM you may assume that your directional sense MUST be wrong and it’s totally a good idea to go the opposite way from all the landmarks you recognize.
8) There are cats, but sadly none of them live with me.
9) There are just as many ways to make a fool of yourself in Cambridge, UK as there are in Austin, TX, USA. There are also just as many weird and creepy old men that will bother you at pubs. (Note to self: they bother you more if you get embarrassed and giggly. How many years will it take me to realize that it is so much more efficient to be cold and grumpy toward such people?)
(photo cred–Alex)
Sorry for this photo, Taylor…it is just so hilariously timed. (Why yes, we were singing Backstreet Boys at a pub. Classy, right?)
10) Lots of people wear tights like me! I went to a hot yoga class last night and there was a girl wearing turquoise leggings. I am still loving the way people dress here. Except all the girls seem to have these damnably skinny legs–perfect fashion legs, nothing like the ones I’ve developed from biking all over Austin for the past couple years. I am so jealous; I don’t think my thighs could look like that even if I lost twenty pounds. I’ve got a love-hate relationship with my biking-muscles.
11) Living is expensive. I’ve been spending far too much money on coffee and drinks and airline tickets. (Oh hey, I’m going to Amsterdam on Friday and Barcelona next weekend. Nbd.)
12) There are so many lovely knitted items everywhere. I am assuming that most of them are not hand-knitted, though I’d like to imagine they are. I’ve seen some absolutely beautiful knitted cardigans over the past few days; it makes me want to run out for some new yarn to start a new sweater for myself. My beloved green cardigan is getting lots of use here, as it is chilly for at least some portion of every day. I think that sweater’s the most useful thing I’ve ever made.
Oh, and knitting updates!
I’ve been working on a little brown scarf for myself.
I started this on the plane to London last week and I’ve been working on it intermittently since. It was good tube-knitting.
Cambridge: An Adventure in Roundabouts
**the (not particularly) short (but full of pictures) version**
1—woke up TOO EARLY, packed, ate another huge breakfast, finally drank tea at breakfast (sorry, tea; maybe you can be an on-the-side lover, but coffee is my true and faithful mate forever)
2—bussed to Cambridge
3—dropped our stuff off and took a bus tour of the city in the rain, fell asleep on tour
4—stopped at the American Military Memorial, got all melancholy
5—got our bicycles!! Rain continues. Taxi to homestays; everyone else is in same area in opposite direction from me
6—no one was home when taxi dropped me off at flat, start to think “DISASTER NO ONE WILL EVER LOVE ME END OF WORLD PANIC”
7—homestay mum arrives and immediately showers me with delicious fresh fruit
8—everyone is super nice and friendly and accommodating, rejoice!
9—try to watch a Game of Thrones and fall asleep after 5 minutes
10—wake up at 5 am, see bright sunlight, think I have missed my first day of class
11—bike to Studio Cambridge for guided ride to DAMPT
12—talk about heart-lung machine designs
13—bike to Cambridge Beer Festival!
14—get “Pickled Pig” cider, fail to realize that title implies it will be very vinegary, announce to friends “….this reminds me of sauerkraut”
15—try glass of spice cinnamon mead, wish to become viking warrior
16—tipsily miss my turnoff at every single roundabout on the way home
17—go to Evensong service. I would be so good at tradition-heavy religions if only I could believe in God
18—eat amazing fancy dinner
19—go out to King’s Street Run pub
mmm, Jager shots! This bartender looks kinda demonic and did not seem pleased by twelve rowdy Americans.
20—go to some other club, bike home by myself. directions upon directions upon directions remain scrawled on my hand.
**the long version**
On Thursday Taylor joined me for breakfast, so after finishing my first massive plate of food (pictured above), I was too self-conscious to take another equally huge pile of bacon. (This was probably a good thing; the amount of hard cider and bacon I’ve eaten since coming to Europe has made my clothes noticeably tighter already.) I finally tried tea for breakfast, and while I found it enjoyable (I do love a nice cup of tea on a cold day), I still needed my coffee. I cannot do without that jolt of bitter energy every morning.
The weather took a turn for the cold and dreary (I am so pleased I got to wear flouncy summer clothes in London before the rain came!), and our bus ride to Cambridge was rainy and peaceful. When we arrived we dropped our luggage off at Studio Cambridge and got another brief orientation before heading out on a bus tour of the city. We began on the exposed upper deck of the bus, which was quite lovely in a light drizzle, but we moved to the lower level when it started pouring. It was an interesting tour, but I was rather exhausted and shamelessly leaned my head against the window and fell asleep.
We stopped at the American Military Memorial and walked around for a bit (it’d stopped raining for a short while); it was beautifully landscaped. There was a letter to a military widow on the display inside that began something like “We are honored to inform you that [soldier whoever] has posthumously received [some award]” and it made me feel all strange and melancholic and teary-eyed, but my opinion on the “honor” of such tragedy is enough to fill an entire post by itself (and probably is of no particular interest to any readers that’ve come here for travel stories!).
After the tour we picked up our bicycles; there was much grumbling from my classmates who do not cycle at home (and I found myself doing that obnoxious thing where I talk too much about “oh, my bike at home,” which wouldn’t be annoying if there were other cyclists about—but there weren’t, so it probably made me sound like an asshole/showoff). Riding on the wrong side of the road is not confusing, but the way the roads connect and curve and change names is endlessly frustrating.
Once we’d tired of the bicycle confusion, taxis arrived to take us to our homestays. Everyone else was grouped up according to where they lived, but I live in the opposite direction from all my classmates (in an apartment; everyone else lives in houses). The taxi driver had trouble finding the place, and when I arrived it was starting to drizzle again. No one was home. I was already a little worried, as the home was described as a 2 bedroom (with a mom, a five year old, and an eleven year old), and when no one answered the door my brain went into “I hate my life no one will ever love me and nothing will ever work out for me ever” mode. I called my homestay mum and she said she’d been in London and would be home in five minutes, and of course I thought, “Oh god, she’s one of those people, she’ll say five minutes and be here in thirty and I’ll be sitting in the rain and she’ll always be late and I’ll have to sleep on a couch and they won’t feed me.” But she WAS there in five minutes, and she was incredibly nice and apologetic and took my suitcase from me and immediately showered me with fresh fruit. (“Do you like strawberries? How about cherries? They’re from my father’s shop! And here’s an apple, and a cucumber!”)
The two girls came home a bit later; the littlest one was wearing pink tights and turquoise shorts and a sweater with a pink owl on it—this is how I will dress my children! After dinner I sat downstairs for a couple hours chatting with the family, but exhaustion overtook me quickly. I went upstairs, turned on Game of Thrones, and fell asleep without delay—lights on, fully dressed. I woke up about 5 am, and since the sun was shining brightly I was certain it was eleven and that I’d slept through everything. This was not the case, and I happily slept for another couple hours before getting up and walking back to Studio Cambridge, where we were to meet for our bike ride to campus. Biking was much easier with a guide, and I contemplated approaching a random British person and asking if I could follow them around on my bike for a couple hours so I could figure what the hell I am dong. We arrived at campus, and I felt like an astronaut walking to my spaceship while entering DAMPT (department of applied math and theoretic physics). Class was nice and uneventful, and we had lunch in the campus cafeteria (salmon and broccoli?! I have no complaints about British food thus far).
After lunch we biked to the Cambridge Beer Festival, which the girls were reluctant to do (it left us little time to get ready for the evening’s events), but it turned out to be a lot of fun. I picked a local cider to try, the “Pickled Pig”–I failed to make the connection that it would taste pickled, which it did. It definitely wasn’t my favorite cider of the ones I’ve tried thus far, but I followed it up with a glass of cinnamon spiced mead, which was amazing. I love mead.
We all biked home to get ready for Evensong, and of course I had to go in a direction opposite to the way everyone else went. I seriously missed my turnoff every single time I went around a roundabout. THERE ARE NO STREETSIGNS. I went the wrong way at least three times, but I have (I’d like to think) fairly decent observational skills and I (tipsily) found my way home by recognizing landmarks.
We met for the Evensong service at King’s College Chapel, which was amazingly beautiful. Again, not a topic for this entry—but I have all sorts of strong feelings about traditional religious services. (Peering about the chapel I experienced an overwhelming onslaught of conflicting thoughts about the amount of effort that went into creating something so magnificent, the horrible things the Church has done, the peace that prayer brings to so many people, the comfort of a tradition, the evil of making people feel guilty for being human…)
There was a lovely dinner arranged for us after the service; the food was yummy and we’re all starting to get along swimmingly. There was a lot of raucous laughter during dinner. The group is small, only twelve people, and I think it’s the perfect size for us to all bond very quickly. After dinner we went out to King’s Street Pub and then another club in Cambridge; it was a fun night. We are all starting to throw random British words into conversation, and little bits of British accent slip out too—but I just sound like I am straight out of the Midwest when I drink. (The accent is barely detectable normally; you can only hear it on my a’s…but put a few ciders in me and I sound like I’m from Michigan. I am mildly embarrassed by this and I have no idea why I speak this way.)
After our night out, landmarks guided me home again. Surely the roads will start to make sense eventually…….?
Another Day of Wandering
** 
Day 2 in England
A grumbly note: while the less-expensive hotel I stayed in the first night had free internet, the very expensive one we’ve been put up in for the next couple nights does NOT. We get 15 minutes of free internet per day, so here is my rushed and as-efficient-as-possible use of those fifteen minutes!!!
**quick summary, bigger pictures will replace these when I have real internet**
1—threw back out, got terribly lost, stayed (almost) upbeat because I was wearing polka dots
2—found hotel!! cheerfully (if wincingly) made way to Tower of London to meet Danny and Lauren (who had left me the most adorable of notes at the entrance)
3—went on a little tour and headed into the white tower
4—saw armor. (Henry VIII, I do not believe that codpiece was necessary. Ah, fashion!)
5—saw swords and more armor
6—looked at this weird dragon and hoped we could somehow watch Game of Thrones while here
7—saw ravens and wished for birds to carry messages for me
8—went to hotel and met my classmates, ate dinner
9—played cards and chatted; so far successful in our attempt to get to know each other quickly
10—fall asleep immediately (This is amazing. This does not happen to me at home.)
**the story version**
My morning started off much like yesterday’s did, leaving me sweaty, lost, and frazzled. I began in a great mood; I skipped cheerfully to the Underground station. I was wearing a snazzy new outfit from H&M, eating an orange I’d purchased the night before, and enjoying the cool, brisk morning weather. When I picked up my suitcase to drag it down the Bayswater station steps, though, my morning took a turn for the painful. My back seized up and I couldn’t move or breathe. “Threw my back out” is the appropriate phrase, I believe. The pain was excruciating and unbearable and made me feel like a seventy-year-old woman.
I got on the train feeling like I was going to vomit and having trouble breathing. I downed four ibuprofen and tried to sit in some position that didn’t hurt. My fellow passengers must’ve noticed the grimace on my face, as a nice and nice-looking British guy offered to carry my bag up the steps at the Edgware station—and then waited while I figured out where I needed to go for my next stop so he could carry my bag again! He probably just thought I was a weak, grumpy girl, but I thanked him effusively and got on my train to Baker Street. When I got to Baker, I (OF COURSE) walked south for twenty minutes before realizing that I ought to’ve gone north. The ibuprofen had helped a little, but I was still in a lot of pain. My arms were starting to hurt from lugging my giant suitcase, and I was getting hot and sweaty, and the combination of pain and the number of people smoking on the street made my stomach churn.
Once I set out the right way on Baker, things were less confusing but no less miserable. I stumbled and grumbled my way to Lodge Street, though, and successfully found my hotel. I dropped my bags off at the front desk and ran right back out the door. Literally—I was free of my giant luggage burden, and I was planning to meet a friend at the Tower of London at nine, but it was already nine by the time I got to the hotel. I stopped at a payphone to try to let my friends know I’d be late, but no one picked up. But did I let any of this dampen my mood?? Of course not, I was wearing a polka-dot romper with a magenta belt! It would be simply wrong to be grumpy while wearing both a romper and the color magenta. Either one alone would be enough to dispel any bad mood.
I finally found my way to the Tower, and when I arrived the woman distributing tickets had a delightful note for me from Danny. I scurried in to meet him and started my tour of the tower. We saw the torture chamber (a not particularly elaborate exhibit) and then were led about by a yeoman tour guide. After the tour, we went into the white tower and saw a whole bunch of armor. Then we ate at the museum café and went through the bloody tower, which gave a history of the boy princes that were supposedly murdered there. It’s hard for me to get it into my head that all of it was actually real—people really did live that way. Men were trained to fight in elaborate metal suits and wars were fought over slights and silly disagreements over succession. I don’t know much history. It’s not a subject I’m all that fond of, but I do love epic fantasy novels—-and really, besides the dragons and such, how different are they from a true history? All the royal concerns are trivial, when it comes down to it. To paraphrase something said in Game of Thrones—the common people don’t care about kings. They care about having strong children and getting enough rain.
We parted ways at the tube and I headed back to my hotel (and finally purchased a hairbrush and conditioner from Boots on the way. Let me tell you, London wind + no hairbrush + no conditioner = disaster). I settled into my room, met my roommate, and then the group got a little orientation and headed out to dinner. Someone from AIFS accompanied us; it was fun to sit down with someone actually local. We definitely bonded over our mutual inability to stop eating, ever — while everyone else delicately picked a few items from the antipasta plate, the two of us shamelessly grabbed piece after piece.
After dinner, back at the hotel, three of the other girls came back to our room and we played cards ‘til about eleven. I suppose we all acknowledged that we have very little time here and should therefore get to know one another as quickly as possible. We talked of going to visit Spain on our long weekend and perhaps exploring the rest of the UK on a shorter weekend.
Tomorrow: more tourist stuff!
Thursday: to Cambridge!
First Day in London!
**if you don’t feel like reading a long post, pictures are at the end!!**
**also I apologize if my writing style doesn’t sound like me. I tend to sound like whatever book I just read but I really dislike all the characters from the book I just finished**
I arrived at the Heathrow airport about 7:30 AM this morning. I was able to sleep a fair bit on the plane, probably because my sleep schedule has been an absolute mess over the past couple weeks. It was an easy flight.
The first real live British people I encountered on the plane set my expectation bar pretty low. There was a couple with three young boys sitting in the row beside me, and they were truly the most unruly children I’ve ever encountered. The family was basically an embodiment of bad American stereotypes. Talk about a quick disillusionment, right??
Oh, but then we landed…! Oh, London, I love you already! And can I just say:
STRAIGHT BOYS IN BRIGHTLY-COLORED PANTS.
Today I saw men wearing bright purple, bright green, red, and yellow pants while wandering around the city. Wow, just wow. Even when not wearing eye-popping colors, the men here seem to be dressed more smartly than those in Austin. There were lots of suit-coats, ties, and nice shoes. (I fit right in with my Sambas and Converse, though.) The loosely-laced work boot also seemed to be a common look. Part of me had to laugh at this style, since it seems like a sort of anti-bourgeois statement that ends up being pretentious in an attempt to be super un-pretentious…but I still found those boots strangely alluring.
Okay, I’ll stop gushing about male fashion in London and try to recollect my day. The first thing I did after leaving the baggage claim was buy an overpriced coffee and purchase a day pass for the Underground. I got on the first train that came into the station without any real idea of where it was going. I got off at what seemed like (and turned out to actually be) the right station and stopped at a Starbuck’s (ugh I know) because I thought it would have free wi-fi. It didn’t. I got some cash out of an ATM and bought a map…but the street I was looking for wasn’t on the index. I ended up in Kensington Gardens, sweaty, tired, confused, lost, and still lugging around the most humongous suitcase imaginable. I plopped down on a park bench next to a cute German family to re-orient myself (perhaps misleading, as that implies I originally knew where I was going, which I didn’t). Eventually I wandered to a nearby bus station, and my street was listed on the map posted there. I was actually only a few blocks away from it the whole time (it was just out of range on the map I’d purchased, oops). I dragged all my stuff over and checked in to my hotel early. Showering felt SO GOOD after that many hours of travel.
Once I got my stuff all settled in my hotel room, I set out to explore the city. I seriously just walked out my door, picked a direction, and started wandering. When I realized that I’d wandered myself into a residential area, I made my way back to the train, got on again, and picked a stop at random to get off. I picked Bond Street, which was a bustling shopping area. I enjoyed running around people watching, but after I’d traversed the shopping area I once again found myself in awkwardly empty streets. I then meandered over to another park–which turned out to be the same park; the gardens are absolutely huge. I walked around the perimeter and ended up at a nice lake, where I sat to watch the geese and the people and to knit for a while.
Up to this point my day was more or less the same as any day in Austin, just in a new and more interesting place. I drank too much coffee, happily explored a park and was (less happily) pummeled by pollen, got way too excited about how weird and awesome birds are, felt mildly jealous of cute hand-holding couples, had someone yell "Hey, I like your legs" at me from a boat (yeah, me too man, legs are USEFUL), got some knitting done, enjoyed the sun…yeah, basically like my normal (joyous) days, but in a different locale. Then I read a park map and noticed that the southern end was really close to a bunch of cool museums, and that’s when my day went from pleasant to THE MOST AMAZING DAY EVER.
I went a bit south and found myself staring at the fanciest storefronts I could imagine. Like Chanel and Miu Miu and D&G and YSL…I have never in my life seen these sorts of stores. I was quite intimidated. Of course, shopping was not my intention today, and I certainly wasn’t going to buy anything from stores like those. But….but then I walked by H&M. Holy crap. I don’t know what happened to me but I just went CRAZY. Everything was so cute, and of course in the U.S.A. I’m used to picking out wonderful dresses and having nothing fit and leaving empty handed. But that didn’t happen at H&M. Everything fit me. I spent way too much money. I bought a romper. A ROMPER. What was I thinking???! And three pairs of tights. And a magenta belt. And yellow sandals. And several dresses. I just couldn’t stop. It wasn’t necessarily a bad decision; I am quite pleased with my purchases. Still, I just don’t know what got into me.
After I dragged myself away from shopping, I got on the underground again and got off at South Kensington. I followed a neat little footpath tunnel (where there was a guy performing "Heart of Gold" quite well, which put another huge grin on my face). This led me to the most amazing place in the world, something even more amazing than the summer dress selection at H&M: the British Natural History Museum. This place. Oh my god. I was overwhelmed with its magnificence. I wandered around for hours staring at everything. When I walked into the room with the bird collection I literally stopped in my tracks and just stared, slack-jawed (some woman laughed when she saw me and said, "exactly"). I could’ve spent four times as much time in there as I did and still not’ve seen everything I wanted to see. It was spectacular. Stunning. Every effusive adjective I can think of needs to be applied this museum. It was beautiful.
At about 5:30 PM, when I was literally stumbling sideways in the museum, I suddenly realized that the last thing I’d eaten was an apple in the airport at about 4 PM the day before. I dragged myself away from the wonderful place (with the promise to myself that I will return someday–especially if I ever have children) and Underground-ed my way back to Bayswater. I stopped at the Sainsbury right by my station and bought ham, spinach, nectarines, oranges, kiwis, and some hard cider.
All in all: perfect day.
Now, in case you don’t actually want to read all of the above, here is a pictorial summary:
1–I arrived at the DFW airport about 3PM Sunday afternoon.
2–I arrived at my hotel. I could open the windows!! The weather was perfect.
3–I wandered around Kensington Gardens and it was lovely.
4–I watched geese, swans, ducks, pigeons and people.
5–While shopping I saw the license plate "YAY" and was made very happy.
6–Went shopping and tried to pretend I look like a British girl.
7–Got the most massive blister ever from ankle brace+converse and had to change to my wonderful new yellow sandals.
8–Went to the first aid room at the Natural History Museum, where I got bandaids, had a lovely and funny chat with the nurse giving me these bandaids (had to fill out a form and everything, hah!), and changed back to the shoes that matched me.
9–Went in this super cool entrance to the museum
10–Saw a whole bunch of awesome displays, including this tiger eating dinner and the vicuña on the right (they are very prized for their wool)
11–Laughed my butt off at this sign in the museum. Oh, the audacity of such a statement!! We are scientists. We are never through with our journeys.
12–Went home and bought nectarines, kiwis, oranges, meat, spinach, and cider.
13–realized I had no bottle opener and opened cider on the door-jamb in my bathroom
14–OH NOEZ cider fizzed all over bathroom and hallway because of this aggressive method of opening
15–cleaned up cider fizz and proceeded to scarf down a lot of food
16–end day REALLY REALLY HAPPY
Bye, America!
Who almost left her passport in Austin before driving the four hours to home? THIS GIRL!! I don’t mean I was headed out the door and thought, "Oh, need to grab my passport!" No. I was headed out the door and thought, "Oh, I need to pay my rent!"–and when I got an envelope out of my desk, there, staring up at me beside the grey thread and laundry quarters, was my passport. It is now safely in my backpack (though I did forget my umbrella).
Graduation was yesterday, and the day before was a frantic race to finish all my gifts. On Friday night, I had finished none of them. By graduation on Saturday, I had finished five. I knitted all day Friday, and that evening watched five hours of True Blood with one of my friends. Seriously. Every time an episode ended we’d grab another glass of mead, I’d switch knitting projects, and we’d turn on the next one. This continued until I started falling asleep on the floor about 4 AM. This True Blood marathon allowed me to actually finish (almost) everything that I had planned!
The first project to reach completion that evening was the blue lace scarf made with Berroco Lustra.
I blocked it out the next morning (by pinning to the carpet and drying with my hair dryer. So high tech!!), and I really like the way it turned out.
This gives you an idea of the drape and luster. The lyocell (rayon) really did give it a nice sheen. I do like the way the yarn knitted up, but it was a little bit of a hassle to use. It was a single ply, and rather loosely spun. The splittiness didn’t bother me that much, since I was using fairly large needles (9′s), but the breakage was frustrating. It broke 4 or 5 times within the one skein I used for this scarf. I wouldn’t be totally opposed to using the yarn again, though, since it is quite pretty.
The next project I finished that evening was the Cookie Monster hat.
I am rather fond of this project. I think it turned out quite adorable. Stitching on the eyes was quick and easy (thank goodness I remembered to get my FiberFill stuffing from my parents’ house the last time I went home!). I sewed the two eyes together in the middle to make sure they didn’t flop around too much.
Here is the hat modeled on my head–obviously it is way too big for me. I just made a wild guess with the sizing on this, since it was made for a boy who has both a larger head and fluffier hair than I do. I think I got it about right, though.
Here’s a picture I know only knitters will appreciate–the inside of the intarsia portion. It is not beautiful, but I think I kept the floats pretty consistent (the mess running up the top side is just where I wove in the ends of the black yarn). I am always rather tickled by doing intarsia in the round, since it requires slipping stitches for big chunks and working them backward with floats. I was all too pleased with myself for working out that method (instead of starting a new strand of the pattern color each round) when making the polar bear sweater, and I am always delighted when I get to do it again.
The next morning I put the finishing touches on the purple scarf as well.
I would’ve made it a tad longer given more time, but as I’ve said before, I love this pattern. The depth given by the many cables make it such a cozy piece. I didn’t block this out at all, but I don’t think that’s a problem.
I also started a project that evening (and another the next morning!!), a hat designed to look like a Pokeball for my marine biologist friend. Friday morning I went to a dance class with one friend, yoga with another, and before getting dinner with someone else, I managed to fit in two knitting related tasks. First I drove over to Hill Country Weavers and bought a book that I’d seen while buying yarn last week, Knit Your Own Royal Wedding. I was planning to make one of my friends a nautilus (I actually started this, but didn’t finish in time) and cupcake hat for graduation, but since I realized I was not going to have time, I got her this book instead. It is SO precious, and it was the only copy that HCW had ordered. After my stop at HCW, I went to Hobby Lobby and picked up some bulky red, white, and black yarn (for the Pokeball hat!) and super bulky brown yarn (which was to become a football hat). I started the Pokeball hat after dinner with aforementioned friend, and it was definitely a rushed effort.
I think it worked fairly well — though you can see on the right (left for the wearer) side that the white stitching is a little wonky. I wish I could’ve spent some more time getting this colorwork perfect; it is a bit harder for me to accomplish with a large-gauge yarn (my hands are just not familiar with working with something so large, and any inconsistencies in gauge are amplified). The idea came across nicely, though! I think it is still a cute hat, even if my colorwork technique was not without error.
Here it is modeled on my head.
The final grad gift project I started the actual morning of, about 6:30 AM. The friend this hat was intended for is very into sports, so I decided to make a hat that looked like a football. The first time I cast on the Pokeball hat, I started with only three stitches (this translates to three main segments as the hat is worked down), and it looked horribly pointy. I tore it out and restarted with 5, but for the football hat I wanted a pointy look. Starting with 2 stitches was too point, but 3 looked good. I knit most of this hat during the early graduation ceremony (at 8 ), and I embroidered on the football laces during the noon ceremony (the recipient was graduating at noon). Down to the wire!! I think this project turned out really well, though, even though it was rushed.
To end this extremely long entry, I’ll leave you with this image, taken of the very beginning of the Pokeball hat:
I took this photo to give a time-stamp on my progress (if you zoom way way in, you can see it’s 7:51PM), but I ended up being very amused by the picture for other reasons.
1–yes, that is actually my backpack.
2–that’s a hat I made for my brother when I was about 13 and I steal it to measure against anytime I make boy-hats
3–I googled "pokeball" to make sure I was getting it right; but sillier than that, I also googled "football" before embroidering on the laces. So paranoid.
4–my turquoise leggings are my favorite by far
5–I bought these really strange, not very effective (but kind of pretty) circs at Hobby Lobby. The cable kept getting bent all weird while I was knitting. But the design inside…I couldn’t pass it up!
6–empty cider bottle…mmmm…I love being 21.
Something frantic
I took a few days off knitting to celebrate three important events:
1) My mom got an MEd in counseling!
2) I finished finals. I got A’s in all but quantum, in which I got a B. This was expected, and I am not too disappointed.
3) I TURNED 21 and my best friend came to visit.
Other events of import: finished up everything I needed to for work, wrapped up lab stuff ’til July, bought a raincoat for England, thoroughly cleaned my apartment, hosted a field day, went dancing, saw a lot of friends, got the apartment totally messy again.
And now it is back to the knitting. I am leaving for England on Sunday night. Many of my friends graduate on Saturday morning/midday. Many exciting things pile up in the month of May.
The blue hat has witnessed progress:
That black bit you see is a mouth for this hat-creature. ’tis intended for a head bigger than mine. I am terrible at knitting everything to my size even when it’s for someone bigger, but I may have made this TOO big. We’ll see. Along with the mouth, this hat needs an eye:
So I whipped up eye number one! While reading "The Lie," my birthday present from my best friend (who I was subsequently texting about the ridiculousness of said book; all three events seem to be summarized in this photo. I am far too pleased by the color coordination of my current activities).
Oh, and where would we be without a silly and unnecessary photo?
I’ve also made a fair bit of progress on the purple scarf:
I like this pattern a lot. It’s very squishy and cozy.
I started another scarf as well, a lacy one in a wool-viscose rayon blend.
Yes, those are different colored socks. They both sort of matched my dress, I promise. Anyway, I started this scarf while mildly tipsy at about 1AM and for some reason I did NOT listen to the thought "why are these decreases drawn as backslashes if they’re supposed to be k2tog??" Obviously they were drawn as slanting left because they were intended to slant left…so I ripped this bit out and started again.
Another Knitting Club!
I met up with a few school friends for a knitting/crocheting club today. Some of them are very inexperienced, but it’s still refreshing to sit with a group of people who can relate to what you’re doing. (I’m rather fascinated by how people bond over shared interests. A different topic entirely, but so interesting. It is intensely satisfying to find people who relate to one’s own personal experiences).
I continued working on the lilac scarf today. Most of my day was spent studying for quantum chem (I am now officially done with the class!), but I did get a bit of knitting done.
Here’s my progress so far. It’s been pretty easy going.
I’m pleased with the width; it feels comfortable about the neck.
We finally got some decent rain in Austin today. It’s been ages since it rained at all, but we had a downpour this morning. I went to yoga with a friend and the drive there and back bordered on frightening. I love torrential rains like that, though. It provided a good setting to curl up inside with knitting club!
New Project #2
I’m still working on blue hat (not much progress yesterday or today).
Here’s what I’ve got so far.
Here it is from the top. Very bright blue! Looking over my project page in Ravelry, it seems that almost everything I make is purple, blue, or green.
Anyway. I started another project this evening because I was stressing out about finals and decided I needed a break. Here’s what I’ve got so far:
Purple! This is unsurprising. The pattern is Lamar, though I am using a worsted instead of a super bulky. I added an extra cross of the cable (upped the width from 36 to 48 stitches). It’s still fairly skinny; perhaps I should’ve added one more cross. It’s about five inches wide, though, which seems like a decent width for a scarf. If I make it extra long it can be wrapped enough to make up for the lack of width.
I am feeling very antsy and nervous about school. I have my quantum final on Thursday night and my numerical methods final on Friday, and I have very little motivation to study for either. I’m leaving for England on the 22nd (and honestly have no idea what to expect or what I am supposed to be doing) and I need to make sure I’m at a stopping place in lab so that all my worm strains can be put on hold ’til July. I need to finish up a few things for my office job before I leave, too, and my mom is graduating with a Master’s this weekend, and I need to plan my birthday, and I need to schedule my ankle surgery, and…yeah. You get the idea. I feel a little bit like this when I have too many things to arrange in too short a time, and then I end up focusing on something completely irrelevant instead of finishing all tasks that really need to be done. (Right now my distraction of choice seems to be "knit all the things!!")
