The Inner Struggle Of A Sock Addict

Knitting socks is a personal event, not a hobby, but an actual event, like a personal war against those who would drive a knitter insane. I have knitted my own personal set of socks successfully, but many of them are a hard fought win or, mostly, a dismal failure. The single lonely sock sits finished while the second socks sits on the needle as a reminder of my failure as a knitter and against the desire to create.
I do not give up though. It is the drive to create that keeps me going back. The inner struggle that only knitters will understand keeps me going back to that frogged pile of yarn. What if I only counted my stitches closer? Could I have stopped the lost traveling stitch if I had put in a life line? What if the pattern is wrong? It will not defeat me!
The idea of losing a stitch drives fear into the heart of any stalwart knitter, even the master knitters. Sock knitting is its own environment completely, even the yarn stash is separate from the main stash. Hats, scarves, shawls, they all have their own pile of yarn, but the sock stash is special. The needles are much slimmer; the yarn can be tiny. There are so many style of knitting for socks the mind of the knitter can be confounded by the vast variety available. I will admit though, beginning a sock is an adventure the I look forward to with inner glee. It seems so simple. Do I make a stockinet stitch leg or should I switch it up with a bit of lace edging? What about cables? Ohhh, cables.
Once I get started everything is happiness and rainbows until the heal. There are so many variables involved. How many heal stitches to do, count the number of stitches you begin with and divide by two, making sure that your row count is correct for the rows the will be picked up. Then, then, try not to drop a stitch because that will make me have to start over, or throw it across the room and staunchly ignore it until it stares at me and I feel guilty. There I said it. It has a mind of its own and it knows it. But, once that first sock is finished it is a happy day, until you realize that you have to create the second one. No! the heinous second sock. That particular evil has a specific name that is dreaded through out the knitter world: Second Sock Syndrome. What is that you may ask? It is the knowledge that the boring sock that you just finished has to be replicated, exactly. The apocalypse would be easier to handle than Second Sock Syndrome. What if I make a mistake? What if I am off on my stitches? What if, gasp!, I mess up completely and never finish the second sock? Which is a very real possibility.
Socks have a life of their own. They rule over the inner mind of the knitter until both socks are complete or you go screaming into the kitchen and set fire to the second sock. Which ever appeals to you, the better. Sock knitting is a deeply personal and interwoven experience with the natural world of the knitter. What if I can’t find the fifth double pointed needle I need for this particular yarn or what if I don’t have enough to finish?
Sock knitting is a passion that many people do not master and I for one am still struggling up the hill of proficiency. The Second Sock Syndrome looms every time I pick up a set of knitting needles with the intent of making something cozy for my feet or, heaven forbid, my family. It is easily the best time had, next to a cozy hat, that I have ever accomplished, and also the most frustrating. But I would never give it up. Happy knitting.


Okay, off the topic of knitting.

What is with the new style sport bra?

So, I decided that my new hotness needed more supportive sports bras. Off I went to the local sports store, pick your poison there, and there were plenty to choose from. I happened up on a wrack of really nice looking bras and chose the high-performance. You know, the ones that is supposed to be for running, but in my case is more of a putt. Anyway, I find my size, they even had them portioned out into actual bra size.

My size is my own business :), but needless to say I needed extra support.

I picked one in black and went to the try it on room. Aside, aside. That room was great! The mirror was tall and narrow and in the corner. The rest of the room was large and you could get naked without having to stare at yourself until you were ready :).

This bra had a bra clasp and I was like “cool” and it was pull over your head as well. With some struggle I got it on and it get “perfectly” I was in love, until I tried to get it off. In my experience sports bras are only to be hard to get off once they have been sweated in, not when you are dry. Needless today, the perfect sports bra was a no go because I could not figure out how to get the damn thing off. I spent five minutes jumping up and down and wiggling my shoulders before I got it over my shoulder blades and angled enough to get it over my head. So, I will be using the old standby bras, which are still okay.

I looked around at the other bras, and the bra clasp from hell it quite popular in this years sport bra fashion. Sigh.

Why the struggle?