People think I’m insane

October 3, 2009 § 4 Comments

I pretty much spent the last two days doing… nothing. Well, nothing the rest of the world would deem particularly productive.

I did cook – and pretty splendidly so. I’d bought a rather large savoy cabbage (or at least that’s what I think it is in English – I’m referring to Wirsing) that I made half of into my favorite dish, with mince and béchamel sauce. The other half is still hanging around in the fridge, I’m not sure what I’ll do with that, but, eh. Then, today, I made beef broth from scratch, and added tons of veggies and tried my hand at marrow dumplings since I’d bought two marrow bones for the soup. So, yeah, I’ve been feeling a bit like an epicurean, and I’m loving it. I’ll make that soup again, just with fewer veggies.

Seriously, I bought marrow bones. I’m feeling like a 1950s housewife. Just a bit.

To offset that, when I wasn’t eating or cooking, I spent my time knitting – the endless Muir, which is up to I think 13 or 14 repeats. (Had I known how much time I’d spend on the bus in London, I’d’ve taken it with me. Lost opportunity there.) But it’s good TV knitting, which is just as well, since I’m developing new fandoms.

As if I need any more geekery in my life.

But I’ve started with Merlin (which is fantabulous) and I’m halfway through the first season of Supernatural, which is even better. Because there’s random pop culture and geekery, and awesome old music like Black Sabbath (who I stole this post’s title from), and demons galore. Big ol’ oil tanker full of nightmare fuel, but entertainingly so. Plus, even in the first season, they have this insane tendency to fanservice, which in later seasons (as far as I’ve seen) reaches almost ridiculous proportions. Awesome, I say.

And… it’s funny, but in a way, there’s a lot of parallels between Doctor Who and Supernatural. I mean, we have two people zooming from one place to another to solve mysteries and keep the apocalypse from happening. And making, let’s face it, somewhat morally dubious choices all over the place. Nevermind the whole money thing (credit card fraud vs. sonicing ATMs), or the brilliant taste in music. And very intimate relationships that don’t feature sex. Not that I’m opposed to that (and I do admit to having checked out naughty SPN fic on more than one occasion, to say nothing of DW), but it’s nice to have a dynamic that is subtly different from about any other dynamic on TV.

So, yeah.

Merlin, on the other hand, is just plain fun. I mean, come on. You’ve got a cute, gangly  and snarky Merlin, a bratty but sometimes surprisingly insightful Prince Arthur, you have Giles as King Uther, AND there’s some dragons and other mythical shit thrown in for good measure. Not to mention Gwenhyfar twisted into a rather likable servant girl to Morgana, and some pretty awesome guest stars. Like Eve Myles in the first episode, and that chick from the last DW Christmas Special as super-hot evil witch.

And obviously, because I’m back home and have access to a host of fabulous yarns… I’m dragging out sock yarn leftovers and knitting the Quant headband from what I didn’t use for these two pairs of socks, held together.

And let me tell ya – I’m having a blast with the entrelac. It’s kind of a scary concept, which is why I’d queued it more than a year and a half ago (Feb 13, 2008 to be precise) but never actually worked up the courage to start it. Well… it’s great. It’s a way to hone my mad knitting-backwards-English-style skillz, and it’s so entertaining! Cause you have tons of stitches on the needle (well, 18) but you only work a maximum of six at a time, and all these small squares are done in what feels like no time at all. And a couple of Supernatural episodes later, you’ve got yourself three quarters of a headband and a new knitting skill. Honestly, I can only recommend it. It’s not nearly as hard as it looks, though you do have to keep an eye on it, and it’s super-impressive. And the wrong side doesn’t really look as wonky as everyone keeps saying, either; I find it more intriguing. I’ll take pictures tomorrow, when there’s actual daylight.

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§ 4 Responses to People think I’m insane

  • Muir is a monster. I believe it is a knitting black hole.

    You? A 1950s housewife? Of course. The red hair and the piercings would blend right in. ;) At any rate, the cooking sounds yummy :).

    Arrgh, people keep getting me into new TV shows! Merlin does look good, though, I’ve had my eye on it for a while.

  • wollphilie says:

    well, the funny thing is… Muir’s not really that much of a black hole. I mean, sure, it takes forever, what with the 160 stitches in every row and all, but you do feel the progress in the pattern. It’s just so much work it feels like forever. But, you know, I’m wrestling my way through the thing one row at a time.

    Haha. Yeah, the hair and the piercings… but I’m growing my hair back out and I’m probably going to go back somewhere in the vicinity of my natural color soonish. And it’s just… come on, my hobbies are cooking, knitting, reading, baking and sitting around with my friends drinking tea. I am convinced the best way to being the day is with a hot breakfast, and when I cook, I tend to wear an apron. I’m the kind of hostess that will try and read every wish out of her guests’ eyes and is devastated if they don’t even want to take tea. I mean… those aren’t necessarily negative qualities, but in a certain context, they do take on a subservient note.

    It’s just as well I’m not likely to marry a man, or my inner feminist would work up a stomach ulcer in less than two weeks. Oh, and the whole higher-education and free-spirit thing. And the piercings. XD

    THIS IS WHAT I MEAN THOUGH. Yes, Merlin is great, yes, Supernatural pushes all my buttons, but I already have Doctor Who and Torchwood and Star Trek and Harry Potter and knitting and god knows my brain is supposed to have some room left for actually important things. Like studying and stuff. New fandom are pretty much the last thing I need, and yet somehow, I’m like light to a moth to them!

  • wollphilie says:

    oh dear, this could fill a whole ‘nother post… but I do feel like I have to elaborate a bit more on the 50s housewife thing.

    Sure, I’m technically a strong, emancipated, liberated, educated, gay woman. I reject many my culture’s beauty ideals, I try to make my own way in the world, I dress how I like and not how my parents or culture in general would necessarily like me. I refuse to lose weight on the sole principle that I refuse to bow to an advertising culture that wants to make me hate my body and want to change it. I have body piercing, I have unnaturally-colored and short hair, I’m not above shaving them off on a whim. That’s the modern, courageous side of me that I wish I could be all the time.

    And then there’s the other side the mere existence of which sometimes scares the crap out of me. The side that displays all those tendencies I’ve described above in the other comment, which aren’t necessarily bad, and in my life rather add to a certain coziness and homeliness that tends to spring up around me.

    But it’s also the side of me that is constantly vying for attention and approval of men even though I’m not even attracted to them. The side that displays slavish, blind obedience, especially if I’ve had one drink too many. Men order, and I jump. Men bend over me, press their lips to mine and blow nicotine into my lungs, I obediently open my mouth and inhale. Not because I think it’s fun. Because they have suggested I should.

    Christian thinks this is kind of funny, and has made use of that obedience a couple of times, when he’d just discovered it. In a mostly amusing, ‘Hey Patti get me another beer will ya you know where it is right’ way. The more alcohol I drink, the more submissive I get, and that is a tendency that gives my inner feminist ulcers on a regular basis. I already submit all-too-willingly to anything above a certain level of authority when I’m sober, and if you combine That Side with all that cooking and knitting and tea – you have your ideal 50s housewife. The one that has dinner on the table and slippers pre-warmed beside the armchair when her husband comes home; this entirely dependent, submissive creature that carters to his every whim and wish.

    So when I say I’m a bit too much like a 50s housewife… I mean it. I say it with a wink in my eye and a grin on my lips, but beneath the quip, there’s some serious issues I’m having with myself that you probably didn’t want to know about XD But there, there’s my explanation and clarification, and it was probably tl;dr anyway.

  • Nah, I can appreciate your needing to offload. I hope you can work it out. :)

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