How Close Is Too Close?

Brandon and I do a lot of things together. As far as couples go, we're pretty tight; he is easily my best friend, and I his. So when we are going places or doing things, we want to include the other, even if it is an event where someone would not normally bring his/her girlfriend/boyfriend. When the guys were all going to shoot guns a few months ago, I was practically begged to tag along, despite my complete lack of knowledge pertaining to guns.

As exhibited by the way I'm holding this AR15

That look of pride in his eyes as he watches you load
your first cartridge

Brandon, who knows nothing about weddings and had never been to one personally - and in general is afraid of and confused by the huge event that is most weddings - has been to two family weddings with me. In the same summer. Where he had to dress up. Both times. Which he hates.

Brandon looking uncomfortable at my sister's wedding.

More comfortable at my cousin's wedding.

And a few weeks ago when a friend was celebrating her birthday by having an ugly sweater party, guess who jumped on board?

That would be us.

But how close is too close? Being the kind of couple that enjoys spending time together is a good thing almost always, but sometimes it gets into shadier territory. At the end of last semester, as I was trying to decide what I should do for my Capstone project (a project that sums up your college career, essentially), I was offered a great opportunity. The game majors at our school have a year-long Capstone project called Senior Team, and their job is to produce a fully functioning game by the end of the year. Brandon is a Game Art and Animation major, and luckily his team was one of five out of the original nine teams chosen to move forward into second semester. I had been toying with the idea of asking to join one of the teams in the role of Producer for my Capstone, thinking that it would be good management experience before I got out into the real world. Brandon and I discussed it and both agreed, it would be a good idea - but not for his team. A few weeks later I got a call from a Game Designer friend, asking if I would be Producer for his game. Which is also Brandon's game. Meaning I would be his boss.

Clearly this is a decision that was fraught with danger. What if we disagreed about how best to handle a problem? What if I had to ask him to do something he didn't want to? What if we ended up hating each other? What if we broke up and died and the whole world exploded in a fiery ball of passion and despair? After a (very) long discussion, Brandon and I decided we could do it, and I accepted the Producer position. So far, it has been one of the hardest and most rewarding things I have ever done. 

Making the decision of where to draw the line between being involved in each others' lives and being TOO involved is not always easy, and it's always important to have your own space. But if you have great communication and feel that you can be professional with each other even when tough things come up (like when he tells you that a major art asset is going to take six of the nine remaining weeks to complete, which it cannot), then you may just be in for one of the coolest working experiences you'll ever have - with your best friend.


Where do you draw the line of "too close" with your significant other?

The Point of Counted Cross Stitch

At first glance, counted cross stitch seems like kind of a silly pursuit. Explaining it to someone usually starts off enthusiastically, and then trails off towards the end once the incredulous stares of the listener have broken through our outer crafting haze. "So, I'm going to look at hundreds of tiny little boxes with different symbols in them on a big piece of graph paper, find the color thread that corresponds with that symbol, and then create an exact replica of the graph paper, box for box, on a piece of cloth with tiny stitched 'x's!" Right... There are times when I am working on a cross stitch piece that I am baffled. 'Why exactly am I doing this?' I ask myself, 'and why is it so freaking fun?' It doesn't look, sound, or in any way remotely seem like it would be an enjoyable pursuit. This craft can cause pain in the wrists and hands and inflammation in tendons from repetitive movement. It strains the eyes and can cause back and neck pain from bending over the cloth. This is a craft of patience; larger pieces require hundreds of hours to complete and often go unfinished for years. It is not a craft for the faint of heart.

And yet... I have gone for weeks at a time happily cross stitching for 8-10 hours per day, every day. I have used up whole vacations on cross stitching, and I sometimes find myself staying up until 3:00 in the morning with a looming 7:30 wake up call, zoned into my work completely. Its simplicity is addictive, its rhythm mesmerizing. Unlike knitting, where the end of a row can easily be used as a good stopping point, calling for a break in cross stitch is much more arbitrary. It is easy to get into a mindset of "just one more stitch, just one more" or "I'll go to bed after I finish this section, this flower, this color...." Before you know it, five hours have gone by - and your piece looks practically the same as it did that morning.

Finishing a big cross stitch project is like running a marathon: you feel completely relieved, proud of yourself, and like you probably won't do something like that again for a long while. But, as with those addicted to the rush of a good run, we cross stitchers inevitably get the itch in our fingers, start taking down the pattern books and idly flipping through pages. We are driven by the promise of a good cross stitch pattern - a rewarding finish, and a fantastic journey.

Below are some pictures of my current cross stitch project - a medieval sampler by my favorite fantasy cross stitch designer, Teresa Wentzler, in her book, The Best of Teresa Wentzler: Fantasy Collection. It's got everything I like in a pattern - a story, a lot of detail, and an eye-catching finished piece.

A portion of the pattern

What the finished product will look like

My progress so far

Detail

Fun Fact: The only cross stitch piece I've done that I still have (read 'have not given away') is a tiny image of Henry Vlll that I picked up at the Tower of London last spring; it hangs on the wall of my apartment. The one of Queen Anne, still in its wrapper, sits un-stitched on my bookshelf after my boyfriend's mom pointed out that it would probably be some sort of bad karma to have those two hanging up side by side in our place of residence.

The Knitter's Next Journey

I think it's time. It's been coming on for a while now, but I think the time might actually be just about here. With each new craft project I complete, I feel a sense of extreme happiness, pride, and relief, followed almost immediately by a feeling of shame and guilt. The words, "I didn't really create this" scroll across my brain and I dump the shawl/scarf/hat/sweater into the closet. Whenever people compliment my knitting and say that it's amazing that I can do stuff like that, all I can think to myself is that I'm a liar.

Ok, yes, technically I did create the thing that people are looking at. Technically, I picked out the yarn, needles, and pattern and then used my two hands to carefully stitch hundreds of little loops together and create the object that now can be used as a warmth-provider/beautiful accessory. Sometimes I have even spun or dyed the wool myself (I feel a bit better about those). But the truth is, when it comes down to it, that all I really did was follow a set of very well-written instructions. Someone else put tens or even hundreds of hours into writing that pattern - trying different techniques, working out the math, sketching and swatching and probably cursing in frustration at the stupid pattern that simply WON'T come out the way it is in the imagination. 

Am I proud when I finish a difficult or particularly satisfying project? Yes, of course. The look on my mother's face when she opened her cross stitch sampler Christmas present was priceless and I wouldn't change it.

But in the end, it's not really my own work. I often can't sell it, and my sense of accomplishment only reaches skin deep. So, what's to be done? Wallow in my feeling of un-accomplishment for the rest of forever? Don't think so.

In less than four months, I will no longer be a college student, but a graduate, an alum, an adult (well, kind of an adult). I will be moving to a new city, with a new apartment and (hopefully) a new job. Let's focus on the new apartment aspect. In my mind, I don't really picture most of the apartment, I only have vague images of what it might look like that are a bit fuzzy around the edges. But one room/space stands out clearly in my mind. Lining the walls are bookcases with knitting books and novels, as well as sketch books, how-tos and magazines. Above and around a counter space with a sewing machine are storage spaces, cabinets, and drawers with craft supplies neatly categorized and cataloged. Natural light from a large window splashes onto a large wooden table with graph paper, pencils, and yarn scraps strewn about it, and one entire wall is made up of corkboard with various sketches, swatches, and half-finished pieces pinned to it. Next to the window, a computer screen shows design software with the beginning of a sweater, and a comfortable chair in front of it affords a view of the bustling city street below. The word "studio..." softly whispers it's way across my mind whenever this happy daydream takes me, and a sigh of longing inevitably escapes me. This is my next goal, my next step in the knitter's journey: design.

The first knitted item I created without a pattern -
 a felted bag for my Nana to hang from her walker and carry
items with her. Closes with velcro, handles button on.

Surprise Surprise!

Just when I was thinking that all hope was lost for Knit for Those in Need, it was saved at the last minute by two wonderful guys, Dan and Sean. Both are seniors, and were counting on this group to fulfill the forty hour community service requirement they need to graduate. They told me that they would do all the knitting themselves if necessary, but they had to do it. So I met with them, gave Dan a quick refreshing, and Sean a speedy lesson, and the two were off. As I was walking back to my dorm with all the yarn, my friend Devan saw me walking and asked what I was doing. Since she knows how to knit, she asked if she could do a square as well, and I handed over the supplies. Along with my amazing roommate Liz, that made five people working on squares, which I thought was perfectly respectable. Then two of my groupmates from Project Management and Team Leadership class caught wind of it, and, being the amazing people that they are, spent an entire class period knitting squares and have been working on them since. Finally, I got a phone call from a mystery number while in the library yesterday, and heard a man's voice say, "Is this Hannah? I'm friends with Dan and Sean and they told me about the charity knitting you're doing. I know how to crochet - is there any way I can get in on this?" And bang, we have a group rockin' and rollin'. I can't believe how it's come together in a way I never expected it to, and all at once. As soon as I let it go all the pieces fell into place without me even trying, and it became the joyful, happy experience I had hoped it would be. I guess what's meant to be will find a way (roll your eyes if you want Alex :P).

Happy knitting!

Easter in the Northeast Kingdom

For those readers who may not know, the Northeast Kingdom is a special place in the world where the men are men, the women are men, and fear/awe fills the heart of anyone who looks upon either. My friend Ian has the privilege of living in this blessed land of Northern Vermont, and this Easter weekend my four best friends and I made the trek up to his house for paintball, jeeping, and general bad-assery. Our friend Jared, who is the epitome of a Northeast Kingdom rugged wilderness man, was our first stop of the day (For instance, a man in camo came walking out of the woods with a mask and a paintball gun. Ian said "I think that's Jared." We asked how he knew, he said "I just felt afraid.").We were taken to a paintball spot of epic proportions - two wooden towers, each two stories high with a bridge connecting them and small holes from which to shoot paintballs at enemies. From there we drove around all afternoon to spots of note in the area. Jumping rocks on Lake Willoughby, natural water slides, a small beach, waterfalls, up a mountain. The day was bliss - 80 degrees and sunny, driving around with great friends, blowing donuts and having a good time. We returned to Ian's for some grilled hamburgers, a bonfire and s'mores. And now I must retire to my pop-up camper. Happy Easter, and good night!

Knit for Those in Need

It looks as though Knit for Those in Need will have to wait until next semester. No one is responding to the emails and the semester is running out rapidly, so the options are not many. I have not given up - I still think this is a good idea and that people will be interested - but right now everyone is very busy and the timing is all wrong. Next semester I will be fresh and ready to take on this challenge. For right now, I just want to sleep.

First Knit for Those in Need Meeting

It's my own fault, really. I unknowingly scheduled the first Knit for Those in Need meeting the Saturday of St. Patrick's Day weekend, as well as the first weekend back from spring break. I shouldn't be surprised then, that my roommate and I sat alone at the meeting point for a half hour, quietly starting our little blanket squares and watching Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets playing on the Fireside Lounge tv.

This has not been the best of weeks, to say the least, and I won't pretend I'm not disappointed. I have $300 worth of yarn and needles in my possession, and an idea that I think is really great, but doesn't seem to be exciting too many others. Another thing going against it is that it took so long to get going that it's already spring. Spring blossoms do not inspire people to knit heavy woolen blankets for people who won't need to use them for almost a year. Maybe I should return the yarn I have and buy something lighter, think of a different project. There are lots of charitable knitting things that are appropriate for springtime. I don't know. Maybe I should put the project on hold until next year.

I know only one or two people read this at most, if anyone does at all, but if you have any suggestions I would love to hear them. I could really use some encouragement right now.