Tangled Skein

I've been having an odd month. After four years at the same retail job, I've run out of steam - customer service was not designed with the introverted in mind. My husband and I are adjusting to the (surprisingly) different rhythms of being married - every decision suddenly carries more weight, because it's now viewed through the scope of an entire future together. I've been doing a lot of soul-searching, with the result that we've decided to move, without knowing where. Our lease is up in a month and a half and we've already started packing boxes, with no concrete destination in sight. I excel at this type of blind leap - it's how I ended up in Los Angeles after college, and in Portland, Oregon a few years later. But it's different now. I have another person's life tied up with mine. If I make a wrong step, I'm taking the person I love most down with me. 

This is a roundabout way of saying that I'm confused, and tired, and all my yarn is packed up in boxes where I can't get at it. I kept my sock yarn aside, but I can't seem to find the desire to cast on. As each day comes to an end, I just want to curl up and hibernate so my brain can recover from another day of demanding customers. 

I'm truly hoping that once I leave my job (on a date fast, fast approaching!) my brain will have a chance to recover some flexibility and creativity. Once I leave Washington, a city that equates career with happiness, I see an even better chance. I don't know where we're going, but I hope it will be quieter, kinder, and more beautiful.

I just binge-read Luisa Weiss's lovely memoir My Berlin Kitchen.  I was surprised by how much her emotional struggles, and search for identity, moved me. She writes of trying to reconcile her European and American sides, and of giving up what she thought would bring her happiness to take a chance on the real thing. I find myself in a similar predicament - I'm working a job with people I mostly like, earning a (mostly) living wage, living in a perfectly nice (if too small by half) apartment in a cultural touchstone of a city - but it's not enough. I want something so different, but I don't know what it is! In some ways it seems foolish to give up what I have in search of a mysterious "something" but I'm finding it impossible to ignore the urge. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I still have to believe that there's something more out there waiting! Against all odds I found love in this ridiculous modern world. I thought that was the key to happiness, and it's certainly part of it - but now I need meaning. 

 I would say "stick with me", but I don't think there's anyone reading this! So stick with me, imaginary friend! I'm going to pull this thread and see what unravels.

Socks: Two Down, Two to Go!

My brilliant plan to trade off socks has reached its midpoint. The left foot is wearing My Cup of Tea. Unfortunately I've lost the label of the yarn, which I bought to take on our honeymoon - amazingly, I didn't actually get any knitting done! I used size 2 needles, so the sock came out larger than anticipated (the pattern only comes in one size.) Luckily, I happen to have a sister with much larger feet than me! I really like this pattern - it reminds me of Johnson's Wave, which I've knit before, but with a written-out pattern as opposed to a chart. I find it harder to keep my place on a chart, though I'm trying to get better! Also, the wave pattern is combined to the front of the sock, which makes it a faster knit. 

The right foot is wearing Jaywalker. I really enjoyed knitting this pattern, more than any other sock I've done, but the final product isn't actually my favorite! As pointed out in the notes at the beginning of the pattern, this sock has almost no stretch - a side effect of the stitch pattern. Every time I pull it on, I feel like I'm yanking it to death! Once on, however, it's very snug and comfy. My only other complaint is that because of the zigzag pattern, the top cuff of the sock is sort of bubbly and wavy and doesn't sit snug with my leg. There must be a way to remedy that! This is the first sock I've knit on #1 needles, and it fits much better than the socks I've made before! 

I think I'm slowly figuring out some general sock know-how. These socks had very different toes - one had me grafting the toe stitches with 14 stitches on the needle, the other just 7. I still have to use KnitWitch's kitchener stitch tutorial every time - eventually I'll have it memorized! I'm not sure which toe I prefer, but once I figure it out it's fun to know that I'll be able to customize my socks to my preference! I also found both of these socks a little long to me - I mean, they go up my legs a bit too far. If I can figure out how to lose a few inches of pattern, I wouldn't mind saving the yarn and having more low-rise socks. This will be easier on more vanilla patterns. I've actually never tried a straightforward vanilla sock - maybe that should be my next project!

But first, off to cast on socks #2...

Ten Worst Movies

My husband started to read me an internet compilation of the ten worst movies ever made. It went, in predictable order, "The Room, Troll 2, Birdemic…" 

I had to stop him. Not only is that list cliched at this point, but I vehemently disagree with it! I mean, no one who's ever watched that glorious trio would ever argue that they're not empirically, emphatically, ridiculously terrible in every way. Incompetently made, terribly acted, unintentionally hilarious… but never boring! Those movies have brought more joy to a greater audience than the filmmakers could ever have imagined. Beyond that, they've inspired love, and even more incredibly, creativity. My overwhelming thought upon leaving my first screening of Birdemic was, "My god! I could do that so much better!" I went right home and started mapping out my own disaster screenplay, knowing that with my home camcorder I could easily surpass James Nyugen.

Except, of course, I didn't. Most of us don't actually have the drive, the force of will, or the delusional belief in our own genius that leads to the auteur's creation. James Nyugen and Tommy Wiseau are more impressive than we give them credit for.

So, that being said, my definition of "worst movie" involves many things: being boring, being derivative, being sappy or manipulative, on top of the regular crimes of bad acting and production. I find mediocrity worse than terribleness, which at least is interesting!

These aren't in any particular order, except for #1, which I really, really think might be the worst. Although it gets VERY strong competition from #10.

1. Down to You

This stars Freddie Prinze Jr. It's deep because after he tries to commit suicide by drinking shampoo, he has a conversation with a spider. 

2. Simply Irresistible

It tries to do magic realism and… oh, it fails. A magical crab makes Sarah Michelle Gellar float.

3. Breakfast at Tiffany's

I really hate this movie. Racism aside (and how can you put it aside???) it's the original Manic Pixie Dream Girl story - the fascinating, lively dream girl is so original that she names her cat Cat! Wacky fun! SPARE ME. I think this one offends me the most because it is so beloved and so, so mediocre.

4. Bio-Dome

I admit that I just don't think Pauly Shore is funny. Also, my only viewing of this was on a bus stuck in traffic with my Amnesty International group somewhere between New York and Boston - not an ideal way to watch a new movie. Nevertheless, I feel confident in saying this movie sucks.

5. Yankee Doodle Dandy

Watching James Cagney prance around like a little pony is an experience I didn't need in life. 

6. Carefree

By far the worst Fred and Ginger movie of their ten, I find this pretty much unwatchable. The storyline is atrocious and offensive, but worse even than this - the dancing isn't great! The famous slow-motion dance scene manages to make Fred Astaire look ungainly. What a failure.

7. Vampires

I've already complained about this movie, my least favorite John Carpenter. My friend Randall made us watch it in college. I can barely stomach James Woods after this atrocity! Terrible effects, mean-spirited, boring.

8. Love, Actually
Pardon me for attacking sacred cows, but ugh, this movie! From the saccharine opening scene manipulating our heartstrings by evoking 9/11 to the creepy lack of autonomy demonstrated by almost every female character, this movie drives me nuts! There seems to have been a backlash in the last few years, which I appreciate. This movie did not age well.

9. Chicago
Best picture??? BEST picture??? This movie had one thing going for it: Catherine Zeta Jones's enthusiastic performance. It's always a joy to see a musical theater star get to show off their stuff on the big screen. Everything else was blah. I can barely accept that this movie beat out LOTR: The Two Towers, the weakest of the trilogy - but that it beat it for SET DESIGN as well??? And that it won best picture over Gangs of New York - a mess, but a mess with more creativity and artistry than Chicago could dream of - or The Hours? No.

10. HEARTBEEPS

This movie pollutes the air with its craziness.

WIP: Jaywalker Socks

As I've gotten back into knitting, I've found myself getting more and more interested in the kind of projects that once had only a utilitarian purpose. The making of basic objects that are now mass-produced fascinates me - wheels of cheese, loaves of bread, and pairs of socks, of course. I like getting back to the more personal focus of spending time and care creating the things that go onto and into our bodies.
Socks, as a project, are just so satisfying! I've gotten seriously obsessed. They're portable, quick, and useful once made (though I find it hard to wear them, honestly. I'm still too precious about them - I can't accept that they're meant to be used!) I've made a few pairs at this point, and I learn so much each time.

Right now, I'm in the middle of my fourth pair (well, I'm still in the middle of my third pair too!) I'm following the Jaywalker pattern, and it's by far my favorite pattern so far! It's easy (no complicated chart to reference) and, if you've chosen the right yarn, it's so fun to watch the zigzags form! The woman at my local yarn store recommended Frolicking Feet as being a very satisfying self-striper (which I've never used before) and she was right! I'm using the colorway "Sailor's Delight" and it's AWESOME.

As I said, this pattern is so easy - the zigs are made by a simple repeat of making extra stitches and then passing stitches over. I guess it could seem monotonous, but I've found that watching the stripes form balances that out. Besides, this is an ideal knit-while-watching-a-movie project - my favorite!

I'm almost done with the first sock. Of course, a fact of sock knitting (and a possible drawback) is that after you finish one, you have to start all over again with the other. Luckily, as I said, I have another sock project going at the same time! Maybe I'll trade off socks indefinitely, and never get bored...

They Live

Amazingly, given my mom's taste in schlock, I never saw a John Carpenter movie until I went to college. My friend Randall opened my mind in short order. I think the first Carpenter movie we watched was The Thing, though I know we screened most of his (good) oeuvre in short order - and that brilliant movie remains one of my favorites to this day.

Carpenter movies fall into three distinct categories: the simple and assuredly brilliant (The Thing, Assault on Precinct 13, Escape From New York), the terrible but still enjoyable (Village of the Damned, Prince of Darkness, Ghosts of Mars), and the unwatchable (Vampires). 

And, of course, there's They Live. It was sandwiched somewhere in my Carpenter crash course, maybe between Big Trouble in Little China and the terribly unfortunate Vampires. It's an impossibly simple premise - a man finds out that aliens are infiltrating earth, gets a big shotgun, and blows them away until he gets blown away. The burn is almost too slow - a dialogue-less into that leads into at least half an hour of inaction before any actual plot progression. And the star is a pro wrestler - "Rowdy" Roddy Piper, about as good an actor as you'd expect. 

But it all works. What you get is a tonal, atmospheric world, inhabited by the downtrodden but warmhearted, oppressed by the moneygrubs in power. Piper, a strong, silent loner (perhaps strategically silent, to capitalize on Piper's strengths?) is a classic reluctant hero - repeatedly selfish, stubborn, and crude, he is forced by circumstance to save the world and sacrifice his life. He's called Nada - literally nothing - a nobody.

Three good scenes and no bad scenes. Howard Hawks's criteria for a great movie. 

They Live's great scenes:

1. The scene when he first wears the glasses.

One thing that makes this scene great is the revelation that aliens have infiltrated the earth, and the way in which they've done it. Every billboard, advertisement, newspaper, and $20 bill is revealed to be a piece of subliminal messaging, encouraging us to OBEY, SUBMIT, CONSUME. It's a condemnation of consumer culture and an amazing, unforgettable visual feat. The aliens themselves are revealed, under their perfect perms and designer suits, to be glowing, rotting corpses.

Then there's Roddy Piper's performance. He plays the disbelief, the horror, and the humor of the scene perfectly. The simplicity of the sunglasses is perfect - they're never really explained because they don't have to be.

2. The scene at the bank.

Nada has a good heart, but he's kinda dumb. That's why, when he finds out aliens have taken over Earth, he figures the best thing to do is take a shotgun downtown and start blowing them away. It all boils down to one line: "I have come here to chew bubblegum and kick ass. And I'm all out of bubblegum."

3. The fight scene.

What was scripted as a 20-second dustup as Nada forces the glasses onto the disbelieving Frank turned into a FIVE MINUTE AND 20 SECOND brutal beating as the two of them smashed car windshields, kicked each other's knees, and practically killed each other. Supposedly, Keith David and Piper choreographed the fight on their own and Carpenter was so impressed that he kept the whole thing. It's a piece of beautiful absurdity and brutality, laced with bits of strange realism - at one point when Nada smashes Frank's car window, he apologizes, horrified, before continuing to beat him up. At another point he bursts out laughing. It's one of the best fights in film history.

Honorable mention: Holly beats Nada.

Nada, on the run from the law/aliens, kidnaps a woman, Holly (Meg Foster, owner of terrifyingly pale eyes). He forces his way into her car and then her apartment. She is terrified, but you sense that she is also intrigued by his story. You sense her warming to him, and you can see where it's going - he's going to win her to his side, she's going to help him, they're going to have a romance.

Then - nope. He stands in the wrong place, and she shoves him through a plate glass window. He falls halfway down a mountain. We don't see her again until she reappears on her own terms. It's a delightful genre-tipping moment, and illustrates one of the things that make Carpenter movies, to me, stand out from all the other small-group, survival-situation movies out there: By and large, Carpenter characters make smart, or at least understandable, decisions. They do what they would do in real life, instead of contorting in strange ways to make the plot work. Sure, some characters do stupid things - see Nada shooting up the bank in broad daylight, or Jack Burton doing any of the things Jack Burton does in Big Trouble in Little China. They do dumb things because they're dumb, though. Not because the plot requires them to be dumb just for a minute. The characters in John Carpenter movies feel like real people.

Roddy Piper, you will be missed. You'll never run out of bubblegum in heaven.

Welcome to Reel and Skein!

SKEIN

I remember the first time I picked up needles and yarn and made something. I have no idea how old I was - young enough that learning new skills was my constant state of being. I asked my mom to teach me. She kindly overlooked that I had always refused to wear her knitted creations - the sweater that was too itchy, the adorable striped hat whose Winnie the Pooh buttons embarrassed me at school - and sat me down with some nice fat size 13 needles and the stockinette stitch. I worked a few rows back and forth and then went to her, bored. "I'm done practicing, can you show me how to do it for real?" Laughing, she showed me the tiny bit of knitted fabric I'd produced. "You're doing it for real. That's it!" My boredom vanished. I'd thought I was just wasting my time - but the whole time, I was actually doing it! I was hooked.

Actually, the hooks came later. When I was a teenager, I noticed my cousin twisting up granny squares at an incredible clip, and was drawn in by their retro-ness and her speed - I'd gotten a little impatient with the tedium of knitting after producing an endless snake of scarves and one ill-fitting sweater. With the help of my cousin and my grandmother, I was soon churning out my own squares. What followed was years of obsessive practice, the growth of a terrifyingly large collection of crocheting books, and many, many projects, from afghans to doilies to a creepy Zac Efron doll.

A few years ago, I finally acted on a childhood desire to learn to spin my own wool. (Sleeping Beauty was my favorite Disney movie, and I somehow missed the underlying message that spinning = DEATH.) I took a beginner's class at the Art League school in Alexandria, VA, and another obsession was born. Within a year, I was the proud owner of a Babe Production wheel and a Country Craftsman (the second an antique store find from a friend). I've been spinning ever since, though I'm still an extreme novice.

Funnily enough, spinning brought me back to my first love: knitting. Crocheting, fast, easy, flexible, also eats quite a bit more yarn than knitting. When I wanted to start crafting with my early spinning attempts, I was too miserly to want to use them up too quickly. For the past year or so, I've been re-learning a lot of the knitting skills I'd forgotten over then past decade or so. It's been rewarding and ridiculously fun.

REEL

My parents are both film nuts, and my childhood memories are laced with moments of sharing movies, having them on in the background while cooking or eating or just hanging out. They delighted in choosing the right moments to introduce us (my brother, sister, and me) to the classics. I remember being sat down to watch the original Star Wars for the first time; my dad had to fast-forward through Dark Star, which was recorded on the tape before it.  When I was about ten, they showed us Blazing Saddles, and my mom told us how she had literally fallen out of her chair laughing when she first saw it in the theater. For my 13th birthday, they showed us Harold and Maude.
Beyond these introductions, there was a whole world of film that was as familiar to me as the music of the Beatles; I can't remember a time when I hadn't seen the best Fred Astaire/Ginger Rogers collaborations, The Philadelphia Story, or The Maltese Falcon.
But lest you think we were a snobbily erudite family, my parents instilled in me a great love of schlock as well. From old classics like Ben-Hur to modern awesomeness like Congo and Damien: Omen II, we watched it all. My film education was wide, discerning, and varied.

In college, I studied film along with fine art. I met friends who shared my enthusiasms and introduced me to brilliance even my parents didn't know: John Carpenter, Bruce Campbell, and the entire horror genre in general. I had an amazing film and screenwriting teacher who put into context all the movies I had grown up loving - I learned about the evolution of musicals from Swing Time to High School Musical, and how the strictures of the Hayes Code inspired daring filmmakers to get creative with their sidesteps.

After college, a two-year stint in Los Angeles (and a one-week job on a movie set) convinced me that maybe being an active part of the movie business wasn't in my DNA - but it didn't dull my enthusiasm for watching, devouring, enjoying (or despising) movies. I try to go to the movies as much as possible, to see modern as well as classic films, and my husband and I have a truly obscene private collection that we spend a lot of our time screening.

I hope that this blog will be a mixture of my enthusiasms - movie reviews, works in progress, musings on film, techniques, and artists and craftsmen I admire. Those are the kinds of blogs I like to read. I think there's a strong connection between creating and enjoying the creations of others, across mediums and through computer screens. I hope you feel the same way!