Feeling crafty

And not crafty in a what-new-way-can-I-find-to-embezzle-money type of way either.

With my "sabbatical" from school, I've been "worried" about finding ways to productively spend my time. Really, there's plenty to keep me occupied, for years even (for example, cleaning my room? anyone?) The house is getting refinanced, and the I-make-sure-your-house-isn't-a-dump guy is coming sometime next week, so we have to clean, clean, clean like Cinderelly's friendly mice friends--in other words, super fast. I've had the best intentions of becoming the regular (or at least semi-regular) cook in the house for years. I have literally a hundred Italian lessons waiting on my computer to be taken (I've already taken ten, so...I'm not entirely unrealistic). I also have like six brush up math books stacked beside my bed just waiting for me to crack them open so I can raise my entrance grade for college math (ugh).

BUT. None of that is fun. I feel like a child saying that, but really it's what I'm thinking, so why not just be honest? Actually though, some of that is fun (Italian lessons?). And like for the house, we're halfway through redoing the downstairs bathroom as far as our budget will take us, which is oddly fun.
I've never been very good at it, but I've always like DIY home type of projects--building furniture, painting stuff, and the rest. After my dad did all the demo work, I did all the aesthetics like spackle and paint.
It's kind of sad though how the nice new paint sort of exaggerates how ugly the old stuff is. Yuck. Plus I apparently did a poor job of taping that spot.

Back to my original topic. So I like to pretend I'm good at crafts. I have like a bajillion little things I've made around my room--an ugly old basket I weaved for girl scouts, some ugly old pieces of pottery I painted at girls' birthday parties--stuff like that. I love going to craft stores, love buying things from craft stores, but can I really be crafty? I don't know. I do love love love to scrapbook, as I've mentioned earlier, and I would say, with caution, that I think I'm a fairly decent scrapbooker.

But that's the only affirmed even partial skill that I possess. I've done tiny little cross stitches (like the kind with thirteen stitches), and sewn scarves (it can be done--the little triangle ones for your head!), and painted a still-in-commission key rack that, while it mismatches the decor, I dare say is quite cute. So I know I at least have the potential, and that maybe what I'm lacking is patience and discipline.

But really, I have like craft store ADD. One minute I'm trying to learn how to stamp extra-nicely, and the next I'm trying to hook rugs. For example, I went to Michael's today. Did I waste my money on scrapbooking stuff, which is at least a semi good investment since I'm actually good at it? No. Guess what I did. I bought a set of knitting needles and some yarn. What kind of needles? How should I know? Is the yarn suitable? You aren't asking me, are you?

This is what's funny about the needles and yarn. I don't know how to knit. Several people have tried in vain to teach me, much to their dismay and consternation. I fail miserably. However, the other day, I was bored (people aren't kidding about idle hands and the like--I get into all kinds of trouble) and some channel I subscribe to on YouTube (it's official; I'm a geek) posted some knitting how-to videos. I see three, and think, yeah, I could definitely do that. Never mind that I've tried. I suppose I've got to admire my optimism and perseverance, or whatever.

But anyhow, I bought the yarn and needles, and thankfully got my wits about me before I actually started to cast on (I know what that means! YouTube told me! I'm like a guy who says he's a doctor from watching ER and House...), and have decided that since sledding at my cousin's house is probably out (it's like 35 under with wind chill), I'll turn it into an everyone-watch-me-learn-to-knit party. Maybe this time will be the charmed one.

So now, if I was unsure before, never fear, business is here!

• Learn to knit
• Scrapbook some
• Keep on Italian
• Get on math
• READ. I'm a dork...
• Clean (blech)
• START WORK ON FEB. 2ND!!! YAY!
• Some intense Bible study (funny that when I finally have the time it's harder to do sometimes)
• Cook some more, organize my recipes--this makes me feel all virtuous and Mistress of the house-ish, organizing recipes...

I know no one else cares about my list, but I just had to get it out and have done with it. And have it permanently embedded in cyberspace for all earthly time so that I actually do the things on it.

And I just said "have done with it," so pardon this digression. I've been saying that a lot, and it's because I have this clip thing in my head of someone saying it, and it's driving me crazy trying to remember where it's from. It's all so vague. This guy is like "Why don't you just something something something and have done with it!" I can't tell who the guy is, what his voice sounds like, what he's telling this person to do--anything. I can just sort of hear the expression and inflection in the voice. He kind of spits the phrase out, emphasizing "have done." And he's British maybe?. I think saying "have done with it," instead of "be done with it," is a vaguely British thing. OH OH OH! I think I know now! He's not British at all! It's Jonah Hill's six year old kid skit on SNL! I'm ridiculous. Look it up, by the way, it's super funny. Oh wait. No. i just watched it. It's not there. Bother and fiddlesticks. It's driving me INSANE that I can't remember what it is! Arg. I'll update this when I figure it out, if ever...

My neuroticisms exposed...

Anything...blah...

So, is it ridiculous that I am up right now? It's ridiculous.

I like to pretend it's still jet lag, but that sounds pretentious and dumb. It is partially jet lag, but it's also the fact that I'm sick, took a benadryl, and gave in to sweet, sweet sleep at 2 in the afternoon, after having awakened not until eleven.

So it's nearly five am, and I've been reading (Clayburn series by Deborah Raney--check them out, they're good), and watching Christmas movies off my DVR (don't get too excited--no good classics, just junky Lifetime originals--huzzah!), and looking at Facebook pictures of everyone else's holidays, and checking up on blogs. By the way, I'm impressed at your keeping up, Joyous. Would that I would continue to be so faithful.

Anyhow, blogging is difficult when, in December, sunshine and seventies are calling your name outside a window that showcases downtown LA and leaks in marching music from the Rose Parade marchers in the Dodgers' parking lot. Some noisy neighbors, those Dodgers. In a good way, though.

Just saying, California is nice. Oh, is it nice. And I missed an earthquake by a day! I left Wednesday, earthquake on Thursday. SoCal was just so sad to see me go, it just couldn't contain its grief. It was shudder-y type sobs for my absence. Funny joke.

I think I'm going to make this an all-nighter (an all-nighter?! after 21?! I never thought I'd see the sunrise again! I feel so old sometimes...). It's to that point where there's just no way you're going to get a satisfying sleep. Like if I went to bed now, I'd either 1. make myself arise at 8 and be a wreck for the rest of the day or 2. sleep in until 1 in the afternoon, feel like a pig for the rest of the afternoon, and then repeat the sleeplessness cycle all over again. And number two isn't an option because I have to get my brother to physical therapy at 11:30. Hence, all-nighter. How bad can it be?

It can be bad. I haven't done this since I was like...16. It's scary to me that that was kind of a long time ago. It feels weird that I can't still say I'm sixteen. Of course, that may just be because it's five in the morning. But I've always had this weird fixation with disbelief at my real age. Not like I'm in denial, like I hate that I'm this "aged," but just a stoner-like (not that I would know anything about stoner-like anything) "whoa, dude, seriously, how can I be old enough to drive?" I'm kind of moronic sometimes.

On another note, I know it's slightly past new years, but I'm still in the new years-y type mood. My NY was nice, but the party was partially outside, and I was cold, and old, and tired, so things felt slightly lacklustre and anti-climactic. And I was away from home. So now I feel like being all new years-ish and stating my intentions for the year.

Numero Uno: more quality time with me and the Lord. I'm such an unmitigated jerk about Him and me sometimes. He deserves super much more than I tend to give.

Secondly, ugh, exercise. Put those fancy MTV yoga/pilates DVDs to good use, get out the old running shoes (which are already out b/c I brought them to California), and just general health promotion. For example, I've decided I may only have one regular size, regular soda a week. I can't quit cold turkey--I've tried.

I also am trying to get up a level or two on my math placements. It would shave quite a bit of time and money off my schooling. So I'll be working on jolly numbers this semester that I have off.

And speaking of the semester off, I have great intentions for it. I plan on being more consistent with my Italian lessons, doing some scrapbooking, reading some good books, exercising more, reading my Bible more in depth, finishing my dad-blamed novel once and for all, and one of the most important things right now, helping out better around the house. My mom gave me a list, and I feel like it'll be more pleasant to do them because she wants them to get done, rather than because I'm made to. I'm stupid, but I, against my own better judgment, resent being told that I have to do things. Isn't that the nature of us all, friends? Anyhow.

I've only killed about twenty minutes writing this, hopefully you haven't killed as much reading it. But I'm going to go find some stuff to do before I fall asleep and ruin everything. Good morning, all!