misadventures in evanston

Yesterday my step-brother-in-law-what-have-you dropped off my nephew, Owen, at Catherine's house so we could take him around to the Exploratorium in Skokie. Unfortunately, we got there and they were like, "yeah, we're closed." So we were like, "shit." Hannah, Catherine, and I ended up taking him to pancakes, figuring food will appease the four-year-old within each of us (literally in Owen's case). That part of the morning was really just for him. So to appease the eighteen-and-nineteen-year-olds in the gang, we ended up traipsing over to Close Knit in Evanston to buy some shit. And when I say "shit", I mean that I told Owen to look for anything pink and pretty so I could make some gloves.

Gloves are the DEVIL. I pretty much started the whole idea of making gloves, um, halfway through October. I've ripped them out about five times, because THERE ARE JUST ALWAYS STUPID THINGS WRONG WITH THEM. I've put them away and gone back to them over and over again. Maybe I'd be more dedicated to the idea if I didn't already have nice brown leather gloves. However, I decided that maybe I'd have some better luck if I used a thicker yarn, and had Owen pull out some Manos del Uruguay. So, um, we'll see how that goes, I guess. But somehow during the glove project, end of October, I'd say, the following conversation, loosely transcribed, occurred.

Catherine: "Make hobo gloves."
Justine: "I hate hobo gloves!"
C: "You're such a snot. You won't even wear hobo gloves if they're pink and orange and pretty and made out of $15 yarn!"
J: "You're..... STUPID!"

And then one day, way in the beginning of Winter break, I had a dream that I had hobo gloves. They were sweet. And then I woke up, signed onto AIM, and told Catherine I was casting on for hobo gloves. She was ecstatic. Needless to say, I ended up ripping them out, since I am so prone to the stupid mistakes. But we'll see. On the same note, while Catherine and I were walking around Old Orchard, I ended up whining to her about how I needed a belt for these really loose jeans I have.

J: "hey, you know that yoga bag I knit you for Christmas? I have some leftover stuff. I'm going to knit myself a belt."
C: "You're going to make yourself a loose, stretchy belt."
J: "Yes. I'll tie it around my waist or something."
C: "You're going to make yourself a loose, stretchy, GREEN belt that you're going to tie around your waist."
J: "Whatever."
C: "You're so... bohemian now!"

And to that I say- WHATEVER! You're STUPID! Just because I pop my collar and have previously been known to knit only with pink and was formerly opposed to the idea of hobo gloves..... I say WHATEVER X 2! And now she has the nerve to blame it on being a student at K College! Absolute CRAZINESS!

I will say, however, that maybe I do owe K for giving me people like Catherine; people who will sit in Starbucks looking like this; knitting a sweater sleeve and letting her friend's nephew take pictures of her with the sleeve on top of their head. Because that's how we killed time, in a very bohemian-displaced-K-students-without-Ravenwood-and-things-to-knit kind of way. Hannah and I played with the little porkchop while Catherine knitted (knat?) like a CRAZY FIEND. That's how we like her.