Hook a loop, hook a loop

For my own ease of access, I have some crocheting patterns I want to start. In the hopes of saving myself from having to tout my laptop everywhere…

• http://naidascrochet.tripod.com/patterns/bunny.html
• http://naidascrochet.tripod.com/patterns/octopus.html
• http://www.quamut.com/quamut/crochet_project_amigurumi_bird_and_nest
• http://jessicasuzanne.com/craftypants/2007/09/13/pretty-puffs-slouchy-hat-with-pattern/
• http://www-personal.umich.edu/~msibylk/misc/Retro_rings_Tam.pdf    

Plus, look through here for other silly things.

 

Print some shit, whydoncha.

Some of those ‘wishful thinking’ letters

Hey, Andrew,

I still think you’re an interesting person, I really do. And I wish you could get over whatever paranoid, mentally-conjured shroud in which you’ve clad me in your own little world. You sure talked up a dismal little storm in that one phone call I made, but the gist I got from it was that the combination of my double-all-nighter and my proclamation of my dissatisfaction with Emily as a housemate offended you in a way that the other members of this house who occasionally pull all-nighters and dislike Emily have failed to manage.

What.

Apparently those two traits, possibly combined with other little details about my person, somehow caused you to liken myself to someone you used to see yourself as. This is my crime? Being myself, and accidentally reminding you of yourself? I realize that you might feel that who you were at that time led you to a bad place, but, if anything, that would motivate me, in such a situation, to give advice to avoid following a similar path, or perhaps simply to inform the other person of how I felt, a warning or simply a statement that it was a little weird.

Instead, you scorn me. At first without warning, and without explanation, the way I absolutely hate. Then after agreeing to at least act civil towards myself, you slipped in a matter of weeks, back to the point where you expend real effort to ignore me, even as I stop to say hello in the dining room, to show interest in your well-being.

I would understand if you acted this way with most people. However, the slap in my face is that, backward-opinionated boy that he is, you choose to confide in Ali, and give me accusing glances when I occupy a PULIC room in which you decide to discuss “sensitive” topics with him.

What. Did. I. Do.

You frustrate me to the point of wanting to chew your head off (verbally) every time you walk into a room. Particularly when you enter a room or a conversation while effectively ignoring my very existence. I should have had the perception to discuss this with James while he was still here, and without you participating in the discussion. With him gone, my only hope (besides an unlikely gmail encounter) is that Elin might see how this whole affair upsets me, and perhaps bring up the topic with you sometime. I doubt that either of these things will happen, and I am not going to bother confronting you directly again.

I give up. That’s it. As far as I can see, Harrison, I’ve initiated my last conversation with you. Happy New Year!

—–

Emily, dear,

Please give up. Please discard the friendly facade you wear around the house, as its only purposes are manipulative in nature. I don’t wish for you to stomp around the house, and by no means regard this request as an invitation to voice your opinions about your fellow house members, neither to their faces nor behind their backs. In fact, the next time you refer to me as “prickly,” I will ask you not to do so.

What I wish for in this house is honesty where possible and silence where honesty would do more harm than help. I realize that, had the house continued to adhere to such a policy regarding yourself, you would not be on referral right now, and Aaron would be long gone, but I believe that if you had adhered to this policy in the first place, you would not be the hot-button issue at this house today.

Of course, my dream is that you miraculously receive the message which the referral is supposed to send, and that you accept that a complaint about your actions is not necessarily an attack on your person. But you have proven, on multiple occasions and in multiple ways, that you will not stray from your role as the bratty child who never understands the reason why an apology is demanded. Worse, you are the manipulative child, with a routine worked out that rarely includes even a fake apology.

I couldn’t have begun this pseudo-letter with “Please leave,” but only because that would have worked best sans eloquence. But Emily, please leave us in peace. You have forced your way with our house one too many times, and we are finished with taking it quietly.

I only hope that we can find evidence of the parking crimes you might have committed before too long, so that we can shoehorn you out of your room sometime before the ground thaws.

(Signed, a concerned housemate)

—–

And a short one for you, Ryan,

You little bitch. I could go through a little list of times where you pissed me off, but there is a particular escalation that culminates in an offense, the magnitude of which makes up for any shortcomings in list length.

There was no reason for you to treat me the way you did, in fact I believe that the actions I took regarding yourself normally yield the opposite results. I extended my hand in friendship, multiple times, in fact. I put effort into your sorry ass. Not too much, though, thankfully, since I came to know you slowly and quickly learned what sort of person you are. I got insult and injury for my troubles when the easier, smarter, fairer, and more logical path was a simple acceptance.

So hey, fuck you for singling me out. Fuck you for making it plain that you hold me in lower regard than any random unattached female, and for causing me to burst into tears at my own party. Fuck you for having the gall to view my photos on facebook and request a tag on yourself after what you said.

I am done humoring you at parties, and I am done with giving you any sort of attention whatsoever. You are the only person to which I believe the term “bitch” can acceptably be applied.

[insert rude gesture here]

- – -

 - -

And so, immature as some of them may sound, I have some of my New Year’s resolutions, all because of the bitch, the brat, and Andrew;

First, I will not speak ill of Emily in excess, without good reason, nor around Andrew.

Second, I will tell Emily when I feel that she is out of line. I will not try to force her to change, and I will not stand to listen to her spewing slander or preaching the view from her self-centered world. Once I inform her of my dissatisfaction with her locution, if she continues, I will leave the room.

Third, I will not make another effort to converse with Andrew. I will leave a room if he begins to offend me, and I will not waste my nerves on inquiring after his business, health, or other amusements.

Fourth, I will not smile at, speak with, or outwardly appreciate the efforts of Ryan. If possible, I will spend the maximum amount of time in rooms where he is not present, and times when I am in the same room as him I will spend doing whatever I came in to do, conversing with other people directly, or locomotoring in, out, or through the room. There is on exception for this resolution; if Liz asks me to relent, I will give a small amount, only for the party at which the request was made.

Fifth, I will wear cool hats all over. This has nothing to to do with anything.