Thursday, February 23, 2017

I Like My Hair

Last week, I went to a milestone party for a dear friend.  I timed my departure so I wouldn't encounter someone that I used to work for, who treated me badly, and then discarded me for something younger.  In the months and weeks before my sudden departure, I could feel the contempt and disrespect.  She went out of her way at times to make me feel uncomfortable.  I wanted hair like hers, a salt and pepper thing.  I have come to realize that this hair, her hair,  belongs to someone who I no longer admire, and I want to be nothing like her.  My hair is never going to gray like that.  I like the strands that I have, but I have decided that I accept, and now like, the hair that I have, just like I accept and like the surgical scar that's visible on my throat.  It's part of who I am.

Knitting was a solitary pursuit for many decades of my life.  From 2010 to 2015, it became a big part of my social life.  After I left the store, it has become mostly solitary again.  Friends that were common chose a side.  The store mostly won.  Remaining friends have to keep their association with me on the down low.  I saw some at the party.  I was happy to see D, who reads this blog.  Hi again.  When I was leaving, I ran right into someone else who has devolved into a Facebook friend only.  He did not want to engage with me.  Awkward.  I missed the part of the party that was really good.  I shouldn't have.  And the person in question never entered the apartment, just stayed on the stairs.  Perhaps she was afraid to run into me?  I hope so.  I didn't go to Yarn Con last year because I didn't want to run into her, but why should I hide?  I didn't do anything wrong.

I'm always irritated when people categorize knitters as being kind and generous.  A person can be deceptive, treacherous, bigoted, manipulative, narcissistic, and still knit.  Ask me how I know.  Fuck you, L.  I'm going to Yarn Con this year.  You can hide from me.

Oh.  The photo.  It's from The Magic Flute at the Lyric Opera of Chicago.  The sweater on the character in the center was knit by me.  Other than losing friends and perhaps my reputation in the in the needle arts industry, my life has gotten lots better since my departure from the store.

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