New Yarn City

Last Thursday, I was missing a wedding ceremony in New Jersey. Last Friday, I was shopping for yarn in New York City. I didn't have a specific plan to buy yarn, but I made a list of potential projects (hat for sister-in-law, hat for Katie, etc.) before I set out. Following Carol's advice, I tracked down the location of four yarn stores and I decided to visit all of them—by foot.

The first stop was Habu. However, it was on the 8th floor of a building and I couldn't figure out how to gain access. Oh well.

Luckily, the second stop, School Products, was only a few blocks away. It was on the third floor of a building but I managed to get in. Upon entry I was overwhelmed—dazzled, you might say—by the vast quantity of yarn. It wasn't a huge place but much larger than any other yarn store I've visited. The variety was astonishing.

The proprietor asked what I wanted and I broached the idea of elastic yarn for socks. His gruff response made me feel that I'd made a faux pas. No elastic yarn! (No wire hangers!) Actually, the only acrylic in the whole place was tucked way, way in the back. It was all natural fibers. Also, he was Russian, so that might have been part of it.

If you don't have occasion to visit yarn stores, you may not realize that a gruff, commanding presence behind the counter is unexpected. At yarn stores, you expect the staff to be friendly, help you pick out the right yarn for the project, chat a little and maybe give you tips. You don't expect them to be offended by the mention of elastic.

I bought a couple of skeins of sock yarn (one for me, one for a potential yarmulke for my nephew in Israel) and a circular needle. (Total cost: $31.)

The next stop was a much longer walk away but I warmed myself up with a brisk pace. I was also wearing a very warm (hand knit!) hat.

Knit New York was tiny, more in line with what I expect in yarn stores. The advertised "café" was a couple of tables up front and coffee. A woman was sitting and knitting at one of the tables and I said hi when I walked in. She smiled and didn't respond. Whoops—I'd mistaken her for an employee. The selection was great. The walls were lined with white laminated cubbies for the yarn, leaving most of the center space clear. An employee asked if she could help and I picked out a ball of yarn for a hat (for my sister-in-law) and another ball on sale (hat for a niece). I told her about the grumpy Russian guy at my first stop and she laughed. We had the requisite knitting chat and I paid and left. (Total cost: $28 for three balls of yarn.)

At this point, I realized I was starving. I went around the corner and got a bagel with whitefish salad. You really can't get whitefish salad in DC. Yum. While there, I called my dad. I've been thinking about making him a scarf for his birthday and I wanted to get his specifications (color, weight, length, width). Turns out he wants a yellow scarf. I wouldn't have guessed that!

I walked on to the next stop. It was another long walk and I made a stop in a drug store and a stationary store along the way. I also made a stop for a beer around 3pm. I dunno, I had a hankering for a beer. It was just me and the bartender and we chatted a little. I noticed that we were right across the street from the peanut butter restaurant. I asked her if it were any good. She said so-so. I didn't feel like I was missing anything.

After the beer and friendly conversation, I made it to the next stop, Purl. It was another tiny shop with cubbies around the walls to hold the yarn. (Also, they are getting away from carrying balls—only hanks for them. I should have asked why because I have no idea why it matters.) A big table took up the center of the room—good for projects, bad for maneuvering around the shop.

A male employee (a rarity!) asked if he could help me. I told him that my dad wanted a yellow scarf and lives in a medium warm climate. He went around pulling out skeins and suggesting different shades of yellow and different kinds of fiber. I finally chose two skeins of the most expensive yarn I've yet to purchase: a silk-cashmere blend in a golden shade (I think Dad wanted a bright yellow but this stuff is so soft and wonderful, I'm sure (I hope!) he'll like it. We talked about needles, pattern and how best to use the yarn. Very, very helpful.

I sat at the big table while the guy wound about 800 yards of lace weight yarn into balls for me. (This winding into balls business is no joke—it requires special equipment that I do not own! Yes, it can be done by hand—but winding 800 yards by hand would take hours. Seriously.) (Total cost: um, $67. Yikes. You'd pay that much for a cashmere/silk scarf though, right?)

I had one more stop…but I looked at my watch and it was after 4pm. My yarn excursion took the entire day. I took the subway to Penn Station and made in time to catch the 5:10 train back to New Jersey.

In the end, a great day for yarn!

PS Credit to NS for the title--thanks!

Grateful for: knitting.

Off I go

I have no idea why I'm nervous in the slightest about this trip. It's the easiest trip in my repertoire. No flying, a pleasant train ride and B1 (my eldest brother) to meet me at the station. I am renting a car on Thursday to drive to my cousin's wedding with Uncle Marty, but that's the only unusual transportation mode on this trip. Guess it means I can't get soused at the post-wedding luncheon. Shoot.

I was a bum about packing and only threw a couple of things at the suitcase last night. This morning, I packed in earnest and made myself much later than usual for work (that's fine, there's nothing pressing at work). I filled up my smaller suitcase and it just wasn't large enough for all I planned to take. So, I pulled out the marginally larger bag and repacked. I could barely manage packing at all, much less deciding what not to take. For this trip, everything goes.

I have a plan for Friday and Saturday. Thanks to Carol for suggesting the yarn stores. What a great idea! There are many yarn stores in the greater DC area, and I've visited exactly one so far (other than the one closest to me, of which I'm not overly fond)—but in NY, I can get to four very interesting ones that are less than a mile apart.

If I am going yarn shopping, I figure I need to focus in on some (potential) projects. I may or may not buy yarn, but it couldn't hurt to have something in mind. I have two friends who desire hats. I would like to make my father a really nice, luxurious and useful scarf for his birthday (end of February—there is time, but I have to start now). I want to make a sweater for myself, eventually, but I'm not ready for that yet. It's percolating. I'm still enjoying hats and scarves so I can stick with them for now. I want to successfully make a pair of knee socks that will stay up—I think that means I need yarn with elastic in it. (I made one knee sock—fit was ok, yarn was cool, but it did not want to stay up, even though I did the requisite calf shaping. Since it didn't come out right, I didn't make the second sock.)

While my plan is somewhat loose, I do have several things on the agenda. When I make a plan, I usually stick to it—I'm not terrible flexible post-plan making. But I like the plan because I actually take action rather than dither. Also, if I'm not enjoying it, I can ditch it.

Friday, I'll do daytime things, like visit yarn stores and see an art/cultural exhibit. Maybe get lunch or dinner and come home early.

Saturday, I'll go into the city later in the day, see an obscure movie and maybe catch a reading at a semi-obscure bar.

It feels strange not having friends in the city—and only one relative these days. I'm a little intimidated and feeling like a country mouse. I have no idea why! When I get to Manhattan, I always feel at ease. I love the vibrancy of the place as well as the grit and rush.

When B2 lived in Manhattan, I always longed for the chance to get out on my own and explore—not to be constrained by family obligations. This is a chance for that kind of experience but I'm more nervous than excited. I figure the excitement will come if I give it chance.

I don't plan on lugging my computer into Manhattan, and there's no wifi at B2's, so I expect I won't post again until Monday. Have a great weekend everyone!

Grateful for: adventure.

Truant

I'm a little bit in a dither because I'm traveling this week. As much as I like to travel—I particularly like the "in motion" portion of a trip, unless it's via airplane—I always get a little nervous before a trip. I have conflicting desires: taking a minimum of stuff and having everything I need. I usually manage with one small/medium rolling bag and a small backpack/book bag.

I recently purchased a new Marimekko bag and it just may be the perfect bag ever for this purpose (yes, I always say this—truth is, only time will tell). My only defense of the purchase was that it was on sale for almost half price. My hope is that it will replace several other similarly sized bags that I own and I will now be able to dispose of them. The bag is deceptively large, simple in design, secured by zippers and neither too fancy nor too plain.

Anyway, I'm off to New Jersey on Wednesday after work. I will most likely skip swing dance tonight. I would go otherwise but if I go tonight, when will I pack and sleep? I need to be home, too, the night before this trip. It will help me enjoy the weekend more fully.

And what will I be doing with my weekend? I'm not sure. The wedding will only occupy Thursday. I could come right home after, but I figure that since I'll be up there, I'll go ahead and make a weekend of it and have a real visit with the family. However, the family is very busy and I'm not sure how much time they'll have for me. More than none, so it's still worth it, but I figure, why not spend some time wandering in Manhattan? Sure, it'll be wicked cold, but I know how to layer, I can handle it.

Then it hit me, just what exactly do I plan to do in NY? I have no idea. I was there for a conference last summer and I hung out with friends and walked a fair bit. I can do that again (minus the friends).Maybe it's time for some super obscure movies, the East Village, a reading at a bar. No shopping (except for the window type). Well, I'd love a new wallet—if I can find a good one, I'll buy it. (NY is no guarantee of a good wallet, since that's where I got the current one.)

Let me ask you, other than the tourist stuff (museums, statues, etc.) and the big ticket stuff (shows, fine dining), what is your favorite thing to do in NY? What's your favorite neighborhood, coffee shop, quirky boutique? I may have up to two days to do anything I please in town and I'm ready for suggestions.

Grateful for: travel and New York.

Feed me

I spent the day doing very important work stuff but it's, um, secret so I can't talk about it.

What I can talk about is all the mucking around I did on the blog's feed. If you notice random posts showing up in bloglines (if that's how you read), that's what it was about. The end result of the mucking was to consolidate a couple of feeds and move some buttons around. To the left of this post, you now have two options for reading the blog without visiting this site.

The first is "feedburner." Click on the orange button and you have the choice of subscribing to the blog via a couple of different readers/aggregators/thingys. Even if you are already reading this way, consider unsubscribing and resubscribing. If you do, then everyone will be using the same feed and I'll better be able to keep track of the readership. Why do I want to track the readership? I dunno. It's fun?

The second way to read the blog is to have it emailed to you. To do that, click on the orange box that says "4 email readers." You'll be redirected to a subscription form. It's harder for me to track you this way, but that's ok. You have to give an email address (duh) but you can be anonymous to me (I think—of the four current subscribers, one is anonymous).

Enough blog stuff. Here's something really interesting—I have this great summer dress and I cannot figure out when to wear it. Why not? It's full (floor) length but casual. It's sleeveless, tank-style made from a light cotton with a floral pattern. It's pretty and flattering, but when is it appropriate to wear such a long dress? Guys, does this kind of thing make any impression on you at all? Gals, am I crazy?

What else…so I have a facebook account under my real name. My friend, Alicia, is now a member and has invited me to "catbook." Catbook! It's like facebook for cats. I'm highly amused and highly resistant to creating a page for Miss Tabitha.

(Oh, also, Alicia, remember that burger place we went to in NY years ago? I stayed right near it this past weekend and I tried to find it. I did find it—but only because I ended up in that hotel trying to go to a different restaurant. I did not eat there this time but I was tempted. (I'm talking about Burger at Le Parker Meridien.))

I know there was something else but now I can't remember. Hasta manana.

UPDATE: Now I remember. Five days in New York, one pair of shoes. Believe it or not!

Grateful for: the weekend.

More New York stories

What exciting things have happened upon my return to DC? None! I "gorged" on illegally downloaded episodes of The Sopranos last night. The Sopranos is kind of like pizza—even when it's bad, it's still much better than everything else out there. Yum, Sopranos.

Anyway, that leaves me with time to tell a few more stories about my trip in NY. As usual, I had the pleasure of sharing a room with JenA, who is now a Baltimore resident (yay!). Gives me one less reason to visit Chapel Hill, but one more reason to visit Baltimore. I'm happy because I will see her more than once a year now.

My first evening in NY was conference-free. As planned, I stopped by the Town Shop on my way to Uncle Marty's. In case you didn't catch my veiled references, the Town Shop is a lingerie store. It's one of those places where a lady comes in with you and, ahem, sizes you up. I know what size I wear and was wearing it when I arrived. The lady came into the fitting room with me and watched me take off my shirt, then asked for the size of my current bra. She also asked what style I wanted and came back a few minutes later with about a dozen items for me to try. I rejected one immediately because I already own it and it's not comfortable. I tried on four more and each fit perfectly. I bought all four. The current lack-of-comfortable-bra crisis has now ended. (Wow, way more than I ever planned to write about bra shopping, which is torturous, hideously expensive and perpetual—bras wear out rather faster than other clothing items because of the non-durable nature of elastic.)

After the love-fest at the Town Shop, I stopped by Talbot's and picked up a skirt that fits perfectly and I currently love. I wore this skirt two days in New York and I'm wearing it now. It's still miraculously cat-hair free.

Uncle Marty cooked me dinner and gave me gin and tonic. We stayed in and talked until I started yawning uncontrollably around 10pm. I went to sleep and awoke to scrambled eggs and a bagel. I certainly ate well in NY! I was late getting to the conference and missed part of a meeting but oh well. Uncle Marty is well worth it. I probably should have tried to spend more time with him.

Saturday evening, I had dinner with Karen and "Animal" (do you have another pseudonym?) from Iowa. We trekked down to Chinatown and I guided us to a restaurant, New Malaysia, that Joe recommended long ago. It was excellent but the adventure was almost as much fun as the food. Over dinner, the Animal asked, "How long did you live in New York?" I smiled and said, "Two years." He never would have questioned me because most people think, correctly, that I am from New York and I can get around Manhattan easily. But, I couldn't stand it so I added, "From ages zero to two." The rest of the weekend I amused myself by telling people I'd lived in New York for two years. Really, though, when people ask me for directions, which happened twice on this trip, I can give them confidently. Maybe it's bred in the bone.

I got up semi-early on Sunday, and as I wandered I saw groups of cops milling around everywhere.

Turned out, they were there to patrol the Dominican Parade, which went right down 6th Avenue, in front of my hotel later that afternoon.



That night, a group of us went for Chinese food. I sat next to Katie, who'd come up with C-money, to see her brother (Animal) and Karen. Katie declared, during a discussion of her sightseeing that day, that "New York is boring." I was so astonished I didn't say anything for fear of getting upset. Later, I told others of her statement and said, "Name me one thing you like to do and you can do it in New York!" Karen, defending Katie, said their day of sightseeing had been more trundling around than actually seeing anything and it was a bit boring. Well, ok then. But still, New York boring? That seems a stretch.

As much as I will defend New York against such accusations, I don't find myself drawn to it as much as I have in the past. I will always love it and I enjoyed my time there, but the strong urge to move has diminished to a gentle desire. If it never happens, that's ok. After all, it's not like I didn't already live there for two years!

On Monday night, after her presentation and my discussion, JenA and I ventured out to see an obscure silent movie at the Film Forum. We ran into another old friend and he was surprised at our plan to go to the movies. I said, "You can see movies in New York that you can't see anywhere else." He agreed with that. And, unlike other places, when the movie lets out at 10pm (or 11 or 12), everything is still open. We took the train down to the theater, but missed the first show and upon seeing a long line for the second show, gave up the movie in favor of wandering Greenwich Village and SoHo.

We wandered until I spotted a French café and said, "That's the place." I had the cheese plate and salad. Jen had crème brulee. The best part was the wine, though. All of it was overpriced, but I enjoyed it.

After, I was in the mood for more drinking, so we stopped by a convenience store and picked up beverages to bring back to the room. Sadly, I only managed to drink half of the 16oz beer I purchased.

When we got back to the hotel, I took this pic:


Every night I was there, a long line formed for this food cart. I have no idea why. Must have been tasty!

Jen and I took the subway to Penn Station and I caught a glimpse of this old signage as we walked into the station proper:



If my mom talks about the subway, she'll call it the "BMT" or the "IRT." So will Uncle Marty. Those were the names of the lines from the days of private ownership. I'm not sure when the system became public and consolidated, but I'm sure those old names stuck around for many years after it did. Uncle Marty was calling the "1" train the "IRT" just a few years ago! (Maybe he still does.)

Leaving on a Tuesday afternoon meant plenty of space and quiet on the train. In a mere three and a half hours, I was home—and happy to be there.

Grateful for: home.

I'm back!

I have no right to feel as tired and out of it as I do. Sure, I ran around all weekend at a Very Important Conference, but it wasn't like I was working an eight hour day. I was in New York City, for goodness sake! Plenty of play time was integrated into the trip.

I want to go home and sit quietly and watch tv. I tried to do that last night but I kept checking blogs instead of paying attention to the very last episode of Deadwood. I don't understand me.

I did go to many sessions this year, unlike last year. But this year, work paid, so I was a moderately more conscientious conference-goer. Amusingly, I felt some mild jealousy while attending the blogging panel. Oh, not to be anonymous! But, to be included in this particular panel I'd have to write about my academic field and I don't want to do that.

My main job at the conference, as usual, was to promote my department—spread information about what we do, what data we have available and let people know we have jobs for them here, potentially, if they don't go the academic route. No one has ever told me this is my job, it just seems obvious. My promotin' went reasonably well and I could have passed out at least five or six cards if I'd had any with me. (I did bring cards and I gave out two. Then I forgot to bring the case with the rest of the cards on the other days. Whoops.)

I was on the program this year as a "discussant." The discussant is supposed to read the papers in the session ahead of time and then give a summarizing talk after the presentations. My session had four papers and I read them all before the session. Go me! I didn't finish the last one until the day of the session. I had notes but wasn't exactly sure what I would say. It worked out ok because, as it turns out, just having read the papers and having anything mildly thoughtful, helpful or constructive to say is more than sufficient. Having a smooth, organized presentation is gravy. Next time I'll do better, I promise.

The session participants seemed very pleased with my comments, even the less than favorable ones. And the audience, tiny as it was, actually had questions for me afterwards. Weird and flattering. I was an "expert" in this context, though, which is also weird. The title of the session was "X Policy." I happen to work at the place that sets "X Policy." Imagine, if you will, that the session was called, "Energy Policy." Then imagine that I work in the research office of the Department of Energy. That would make me an expert in Energy Policy! Well, of course it wouldn't, but it would make me relatively more knowledgeable on Energy Policy than anyone else at the conference (except for the handful of people who study energy) . Anyway, it is nice to be appreciated, and I was.

I have this idea that I want to do a photo essay about the trip and maybe I will get that together today or tomorrow. Except I didn't take many pictures. Whatever.

Here are some random conference inspired thoughts I'm having today:

• I want to write a paper about the historical importance of blogging as a record of every day life. I don't know if this is a real paper. I don't know the theory that I would need to write such a paper. I am not a theory person, nor am I a historian. Besides, who is the audience?


• There's another paper I want(ed) to write about cohabitation. Really simple idea and I've never done it. Long time ago, I saw a presentation at this same conference (or one very like it), where the author made the argument that marriages where the couple had cohabited first didn't last as long as marriages with no prior cohabitation. And she had data to prove it! I thought, "What if you count the total length of the union?" ("Union" is demography-speak for all relationships, whether or not they are officially sanctioned marriages.) If you add the cohabitation spell to the marriage spell and then compare the total length of the union, do the cohabiting couples still have shorter "marriages"? I've never done the work but I don’t think anyone else has either. I wonder about this every time I see an article about cohabitation and its deleterious effects on marriage.


• Publish that paper I wrote that people still very occasionally ask for about the history of the program I wrote about in my dissertation.

It's nearly 3pm and I haven't had lunch yet. I have to go.

It's good to be home…and for more than a week this time. No wonder I'm tired.

Grateful for: my profession.

New York, New York

I'm heading to NY this afternoon for a big fat conference. I'm supposed to talk about a few papers on Monday and I've read half of one so far. Whoops. I will be prepared, I just like to work right up to my deadline. Still, this is not quite the professional approach I hoped to take. Oh well!

I haven't spent any real time in Manhattan in years. I was in the city proper a couple of months ago (Coney Island), but not Manhattan. This trip is all about the conference and the city. My New Jersey brother (B1) is out of town, so I don't even have to feel guilty about not seeing him or the kids. I'm spending the first night with Uncle Marty, but that may be the only time I see him. I'm going to relax and have a good time as much as possible, in between conference type obligations.

The very first thing I plan to do, which has been on my mind for the last three years, is a visit to one of my very favorite shops in the city. It's a place where my grandmother and mother shopped and it's not far from where my uncle still lives. I've worked it out so that my first hour in the city will land me there. I'm so pleased that I'm making a point to do something "just for me" during a trip. It's about time!

Town Shop, here I come!

Grateful for: New York.

Well rested

Yesterday, I was so zonked that I could barely stay awake until quittin' time. Since I got to work uncharacteristically early (8:10am!), I could have left at 4:40pm, but I stuck around until 5 doing nothing productive. I'm tempted to say I did nothing but that's not true. I cleared out my email box (80 new messages!), made some calls, changed my voice mail…oh, whoops, still need to do that…,worried about travel arrangements, printed out things I need to read, and generally got things ready for today.

After work, it took an hour to get home when it should take no more than 30 minutes. I don't understand that. True, I stopped to pick up some food along the way, but how could that have taken 30 minutes? I suspect that my slower than normal walking times contributed to the late arrival.

When I got home, I ate right away, fed the cat and looked at the tv. But all I wanted to do was sleep. At 8pm, that's what I did. I read in bed for about half an hour and then I fell asleep. This was against all of my recovery from jet lag principles, which say to force yourself into a regular schedule and stick to it. Even though I woke up at 1:30am (and fell back asleep until 5:30), I feel much better today than yesterday. That fuzzy, lead-foot feeling is almost gone. All I needed was a very long (drug-free) night's sleep.

Tonight is my first (sigh) kickball game of the season. Hopefully that will tire me out sufficiently for another long rest. I will most likely skip the post-play drinking (shudder). Instead, work-friend, Nina and I may go for a drink before the game. After all, I arrived at 8:15 (!) this morning and the game isn't until 7:15, 2.5 hours after quittin' time. What else is there to do in all that time, work? I think not.

It's good to be home but I still feel disconnected from my life here. Maybe it's because before I get a chance to settle back in, I'm off to New York on Friday for four days of professional conference. I'm looking forward to it but the timing isn't perfect. Work is paying this year, my friend, JenA, is bunking with me and it’s in New York, which is about as good as it gets. Heck, I'll even be in the same time-zone— what more could I want?

Grateful for: good sleep.