February 27, 2012
the last two days of my stockholm trip were the most uneventful.
all i did, really, was go to the symposium,
which was, after all,
the reason i went.
the first thing i noticed
was that i was severely misdressed.
my clothes were stuffy if stylish
but far too formal.
everyone was totally cool euroqueer
with the hair and the boots and such.
i felt like my americanness pulsated from within
and rated a goose egg on the coolness queerometer.
sitting up front and taking notes on my computer was also a bit odd apparently. i looked overeager or like i thought i belonged with
the worst part was that no one was looking at or judging me,
which would allow me to have been like, “fuck them!”
no no. they didn’t even seem to notice.
my standing out was only observed
but there were some cool things that happened.
within five minutes of ann cvetkovich’s talk,
she brought up knitting (it made sense as an example).
a beat later she pointed out that patti white was knitting as she spoke!
i didn’t bring my knitting
since i wasn’t sure it’d be appropriate.
well let me tell you!
the next day i wore my own shit kickin’ boots,
and dressed as comfortably as i pleased.
i mean, if i can’t wear my color work in sweden,
where can i wear it?
i made sure to take a good one of the bohus hat for misa.
had to prove i took it there.
misa a swear i’m weaving in ends.
i promise to get it to you
by rhinebeck lol.
when i arrived a the symposium,
ann cvetkovich sat next to me!
we chatted about the talk,
(which i brought with me to day two)
and she introduced me to jackie stacey.
(these are famous academics.
it’s like being knitting famous
just with a different crowd)
the talks were really impressive
and demonstrated how far i have to go as an academic.
still, it was worth the trip. i learned a lot.
and what a cool location, right?
while stockholm is a cool town,
and i got to see barely any of it,
it didn’t really impress me.
i told the shuttle bus lady at the detroit airport
when she asked if i would ever go back,
no. probably not.
unless i was on some grand tour of europe,
and it was one of many stops,
nothing about stockholm makes me feel like i need to see more.
stockholm’s like that
cute guy you spent that one summer evening with.
it was a fun time, and he was really nice.
you got his digits and plan to keep in touch
but really, neither of you plans to see the other again.
neither pair fits.
the socks are only slightly too small,
and really i can blame lack of experience.
i’m just not sure yet when to begin my toe decreases.
the mittens i can only blame myself for.
i know i’m a tighter knitter,
especially my color work.
so i thought going up a needle size would be enough.
but i never checked my gauge, so i have no one to blame but me.
based on the fit, going up one more needle would have done the trick.
but i couldn’t bring myself to check my gauge
because i knew i couldn’t stomach ripping.
i just couldn’t.
so i’m giving both the socks and the mittens away.
the socks are spoken for.
but i need to find a lady hand
or dainty man hand (franklin?)
on which to put the mitts.
and i still don’t really like shelter.
February 24, 2012
as museums go,
the nordiska seemed lackluster.
i feel like, for a cultural museum,
there should have been more stuff or something.
but i went for one reason: the knitting.
here are some of my illicit photos:
(can someone give me a tutorial on how to take good illicit museum photos? i need to somehow get good focus and find an angle that doesn’t show the glare from the glass in the thirty second window of opportunity when the museum worker bees aren’t looking. tips?)
but seriously, bitches.
there were drawers full of knitting samples
and all of the other fiber arts.
i know.got that crazy look in my eye.
it’s a tribute to his character that matti didn’t try to escape.
then there was this little display
that reminded me of franklin and his love of all things old.
but all of that was nothing compared to this
the fucking door had been yarn bombed!
that alone made this museum worth visiting.
(yarn bomb by masquerade)
then it was off to the thielska galleriet
to see the eugène jansson exhibition.
is a gay swedish painter know for his use of blue,
his nighttime cityscapes, and use of light (my fave).
i snuck one shot of the highlight of the exhibition
it and his other works were truly moving.
i’m not a big ‘art’ guy, but i still know when someone’s special.
i wouldn’t have even known about this show if it weren’t for matti.
i owe ya one.
the rest of the shots from that day are of the views from the windows
or from outside while we walked from one museum to the other.
not very exciting, but the guards were nazis at the thielska.
still, maybe just a couple highlights:
this one i took for my mom.
christmas cacti are big in my family.
and this one, i took for me
because i love photos where the sun does . . .
whatever it is you call that in photos.
where it’s peaking through and kinda starbursts?
like this one i took a while ago.
what is that called?
who cares, i like it.
you get the idea.
**if you’re not totally bored with my little travelogue, stay tuned for my final thoughts, an adorable dog, my favorite photo of the whole trip, and the knitting.
February 23, 2012
my first day in stockholm, i slept.
i had all these plans of things to do,
places i wanted to go before the symposium began.
because the week leading up to my trip
contained 12 total hours of sleep.
i can’t easily sleep on planes
so my body said, “hey!”
“this bed is super comfy!”
“we’re hanging out here for a while.”
while this meant skipping the gay fun that can only be found on a saturday night, it was probably for the best.
the next day was my favorite because i got to indulge in my favorite of european activities: wandering around the city in the early early morning and just looking around.
i left just before sunrise.
it’s part of my rules of engagement.
then i just wandered, passing people cleaning, stumbling drunk, walking their dog, or coming home from the previous night.
the feeling of the architecture in stockholm is odd.
the older buildings seem like a mix of parisian and russian.
clearly, a lot of the older buildings are gone
creating an odd juxtaposition of old and new.
i found it to be . . .
the most distinct memory i have of that morning is of a sweet smell i couldn’t identify. it was like carmel cooking or cotton candy. something sugary, sweet. i tried to follow my nose, as it were, but i never found the source. i wonder what it could have been.
after a little nappy poo,
i met up with a new swedish friend
and we saw some sights.
but that’s tomorrow’s story.
**i bet you want to see what knitting i got done, don’t you? patience, bitches!
February 17, 2012
today’s the day, bitches.
my mini sojourn to stockholm.
it’s already been an exciting trip
and i haven’t even boarded a plane yet.
here’s the jist:
there’s the washing/drying of clothes right up until i left my apartment – this included laying a sweater to dry in front of an air vent and turning up the heat/closing the door to my bathroom so my dress clothes had a chance in hell of drying as they hung on my shower curtain rod.
i oversleep – i’ve only had 12 hours total this whole week so that’s not really surprising.
i pack everything, shower, and get in the car and on the road in 40 minutes. not bad if i do say so myself.
i find my way to the airport with limited problems, other than listening to howard stern’s “mammary lane” where they replayed an show in which a dude ate his booger to get his band’s cd played. i was dry heaving like you wouldn’t believe listening to that. veronica, you know what that sounds like.
i arrive with plenty of time at the airport. no traffic.
i see sam bernstein. if you’re a michigander who lives anywhere near detroit you know how cool and dated that reference is.
the kiosk says there’s a problem with my ticket. wait in line for 25 minutes to find out the problem is i’m not flying delta but united. i am in the wrong terminal. this is not the first time i have mixed up the two airlines. i have no idea why.
i wait in the cold for 15 minutes for the shuttle to arrive to take me to the proper terminal. i now have 1 hour to get on my plane. i may have shat myself a little.
i arrive at the proper terminal – there is no one here. except of course the group of elderly slavic men whose papers aren’t in order so we all have to wait as they try to figure it out. (i bet they were in the wrong terminal).
i race through the airport, sweating in my new extra warm coat purchased (on sale bitches!) especially for this trip to scandanavia.
i arrive at my gate.
my flight is delayed for two hours.
it’s 9:20 in the am.
February 14, 2012
what do i know about love?
it’s kinda fucked up and complicated as hell!
at least that’s what the movies taught me. right?
happy valentine’s day to all my bitches.
**yeah they’ll be some knitting content soon. be patient.
February 11, 2012
this song is and will always be my jam.rip whitney
February 11, 2012
the never ending sock
continues on the path
of never ending.
i’ve read over and over how,
if you just take the sock with you
and knit a little hear and there,
it will be done.
clearly the yarn harlot is lying liar bad guy
because this sock will not fucking end.
i even knit on it in the movies! on dpns!
(i was proud. i fixed a drop stitch by feel)
i think i’m simply not a sock knitter
and socks will only end for sock knitters.
i thank heavens my dear reader nancy p.
took a shawl instead of this pair of socks
because she’d still be waiting.
the thing that really gets me?
i don’t even think these socks will end up being for me.
i think they’re just slightly too tight.
so i need to find a man with a)
a foot slightly smaller than mine & b)
will appreciate the socks.
of course i might have years to find this cinderello.
especially if the sock keeps growing at its current rate.
i’m just hoping this sock won’t celebrate its own anniversary
before i graft the fucker shut.
have i mentioned i leave for sweden on friday?
February 10, 2012
i thank you for making what has to be
the best video i have ever seen
that references the fiber arts.
apparently, they are singing a song about spinning yarn.
i have no words.