Scattergories & Stashbusting

There are periods in my life when my brain just cannot stay focused. This is one of those times. I've been sweeping out my room and trying to sweep out the dusty corners of my head, but I seem to be making little progress.

I think I've figured out why I have such bad luck with dates. I'm always looking for things that sweep me off my feet in a wave of emotion. I like rushes. I'm a seeker of immediate immersion. Unfortunately, this means that I don't have the patience to stick with something through the slow opening stages. I often read ten pages of a book and put it down for months or knit up half a front of a sweater and put it down for months. Also why I will go on a date and decide within fifteen minutes that I do not want to be there and there is no way on earth that I could ever end up in a meaningful relationship with this person.

This is the play-by-play in my head on a typical date:

Hmmm. I suppose you're empirically attractive, but why have you not shaved? I know you're all artsy and angsty, but that doesn't mean you have to sport perpetual five o'clock shadow, does it? You seem reasonably intelligent. Wait, why are you bringing up your fight with your sister on a first date? Doesn't bode well for my confidence in your ability to keep confidences. At least you're not a picky eater. I hate picky eaters...and now you're pushing all the carrots on your plate into a little bunch and not eating them. Yes, let's move on to movies. You don't like Back to the Future? What?? I'm just beginning to think that men with chest hair should really button that top button. Yes, that unbuttoned button is really starting to distract me. I need another glass of wine. Wiiiine, where are youuuuuu???? Maybe you're funnier when I'm tipsy. Let's try that. Nope. Why has my best friend not texted me about later plans? I may have to enter a convent. My cheeks hurt from forcing myself to smile. God, I am going to grow old and alone and live in a rickety Victorian mansion with only cats for company. I will be surrounded by mountains of stash and pull a Miss Havisham and wear a moldy vintage wedding gown and really mess up a little girl's life by poisoning her mind against evil, evil men.

Whew. Basically at this point in the night, I've decided this will never work. I'd rather read a book. Or knit a sock. Sad little single socks, that is.

Look at them, all alone in the world without a partner. But they are amongst friends, no?

I've also been distracted by more projects. I am a project ho. Fo sho.

It's Ysolda's Rose Red Beret pattern, but I'm making it in an electric purple for a friend. She says it's her favorite color. It's quite electric.

And I was looking through my stash and decided this wonderful Louet MerLin Tristan needed to be knit. It was crying because I'd ignored it for so long.

It's the very humble beginnings of a Gathered Pullover. I never really thought about this pattern until I saw Eunny's (Ravelry link). She used this same yarn and I suddenly knew that I must knit this sweater. It's so beautiful but in a streamlined, subdued kind of way.

The yarn is simply elegant in terms of structure and drape. This pattern calls for a sportweight yarn on a slightly larger-than-normal needle. I got gauge on a US 8. It's perfect for my wandering mind right now.

Look at the little purl bumps. The plies are so pretty. I am trying to think of dating like I think of this project. I thought I knew what I would do with the yarn (Linen Kilt from Knit 2 Together) but ignored its potential and simply let it sit in the stash for almost a year. All at once, an external trigger launched a closer look at the simple beauty of the yarn and I felt that immediate rush. So one day, maybe I will realize that both Mr. Wrong and I deserve a second chance. Here's to wishing.