Sheep Sheared

Two or three times in any given year, I suddenly decide that I hate me.  It seems early, but it appears that I have entered into this most dangerous state of mind right off the bat in January.  Maybe it's all that New Year's resolving that everyone is doing all over the place while I steadfastly continue to maintain that I will only make a resolution to avoid all resolutions.  We've had some difficulties remembering these resolutions over the last four decades and, despite being a bit slow on the uptake, have finally just decided to give up on them.  Maybe a resolution or two would have slowed down the whole, "hating me" thing, though...

OK.  Perhaps, "hate" is a strong word.  It's probably more along the lines of boredom.  But, this boredom tends to manifest itself as me saying lots of things like, " I hate everybody, everything, and those things which don't yet exist but someday might.  And stop looking at me!  Why is everyone looking at me???  Go away before I punch you in the head!  No one ever listens to me!  Why won't anyone listen to me????"

It's really no wonder I think of it as hating me...

I arrived at the designated time and place for my appointment with The World's Greatest Stylist And Life Coach in this rather precarious state of mind.  We began our time together with the customary embraces and wishes for a good '08.  As it was rather early, I answered her questions regarding the plan for my tresses with the usual blather about just needing a trim.  But, deep down, I knew that was the wrong answer.  I mulled this over during the shampooing phase of the process.  By the time I'd gotten to the chair and was asked to confirm my decision regarding what path the scissors should take, I had determined that it was high time to start feeling a little of the love for my hair.  And thus I spake the sacred words which have worked magic over the years:

Do whatever you want.  Hack it.  I don't care.

The World's Greatest Stylist And Life Coach loves these words.  She loves them quite a bit.  She brightens and her heavily accented English, the kind that makes you wish you were Chinese because it is just so cool, gets even more wonderfully Asian.  She'll tell you that she is only going to take an inch off at that point.  And maybe she means it at the time.  But this is not what is going to happen.  She is going to go mad with the power so casually handed her.  She will begin to demand that you contort yourself into a variety of uncomfortable positions and even hang upside down for a short, but terrifying, period of time.  You will do it.  Just when you think she is done, she will think of something else that needs doing.  She will use words like, "funky" and "wild."  She will pull out an arsenal of very sharp objects and suggest that you sit very, very still.  She will call you, "baby" for the duration.

I love her.  

The Sheep is now shorn and the hate is gone.  I am aware that there will be any number of comments demanding pictures but there shall be none today, I fear.  Like most stylists gone mad with power, there is a tendency for The World's Greatest Stylist to lean towards 8th grade prom hair when it comes to styling.  But, I know that underneath this helmet lies the cut I've been needing.  It is much shorter, much more layered and it is safe to say that a great deal of the hate was swept away and now resides in the dumpster behind the salon.  

Ahhh...that's better!

With eight pounds of hate-filled hair gone from my noggin, I was able to scamper home and finish up a little of the knitting.  Apparently, I have also managed to bust out of the crusty coating of knitting boredom that has encased me for the last few months.  Behold:

More Maine Morning Mitts!!!

These were sort of cobbled together with the last remaining strands of Noro from the first pair.  While MMM 2.0 were better rendered in the technical sense, the striping got a bit dicey as I was using leftovers and all.  But, they are still a mighty fine pair of mitts, if I do say so myself.  It has taken the strength of Hercules to not simply cast on another pair today.  This is the very definition of instant gratification and my only regret is that I did not discover this pattern before the holidays.  I might have actually had some knitted stuff to give away.  Oh well.  Maybe next year...

However, with the outlook somewhat improved, I have decided to try something a bit different.  I am in need of some baby type gifts right now and it is my understanding that babies do not wait for people to get their knitting mojo fired up before being born or growing up and stuff.  If the spirit is willing, then it is probably best to cast on for some little thing while it lasts.

If history is any indication, I have about three months before the next round of Hating Me starts up.  And I don't have enough hair left for another Stylist Intervention to work...

SA