I’ve just crocheted a fucking doily.
A doily! If that fact does not inspire you to conclude that there is something s e r i o u s l y wrong with me, then I’m sorry, but there is something s e r i o u s l y wrong with you. And, I mean, I didn’t even do it well. But here is the worst part. Oh, I don’t even know if I can say it. Here I go. Letting it out. Confessing . . .
I liked it.
OHMYGOD !!! The shock and horror. I, too, am gasping aloud. It is just shameful. I am ashamed.
In my next post, I am going to try to desperately salvage my honor from the bottom of this stinking pile of shame. I’m going to tell you the story of “frivolous nonsense.” Perhaps, then, you will understand my compulsive desire to frequently do nonsensical things. Perhaps, then, you will forgive me.
But since we are on the subject of frivolous nonsense, check this out. Have you heard of formspring? Pretty please ask me a question. It will be fun, in a frivolous-nonsensical way. Maybe.
Also, I am going to start replying to comments via email. “That’s all I have to say about that.” (Not in a big-dramatic-I-can’t-say-anything-dot-dot-dot sort of way, but in a I-really-just-have-nothing-else-to-say-regarding-that-subject sort of . . . way.)
Also, I did not forget about you brave warriors who contributed to that failure of a New Year’s story we tried to write. I’ve finally decided what I’m going to send you and I’ll show you with the next post. But I need your addresses!
Happy Monday, or Happy Last Few Hours of Sunday, whichever applies.
(ohandbythewayiamgoingtostarttakingclientsagainandalsoimopeninganetsystorebutillgettothatlaterokbye)
No need to reply to my comment. That’s my comment. In other words, I don’t want you to comment on my comment. I have no further comments.
I saw what you tried to slide in the bottom there…you!!!
Congratulations! Cant’ wait to see where you’ll go!
I just added your ETSY store as a favorite (quick, go look) even though there’s nothin’ in there! That might be an ETSY first! I hearted the ANTICIPATION of doily awesomeness in your shop. Don’t let me down. I want doilies in every color…
You my dear, make darling doilies.
I WANNA MAKE A DOILY!
that is so cool. and the colour..
saw a really cute project uhhhmm somewhere… where she took doilies or lace or. whatever. and added them onto a pillow/case thing. with a pretty colour in the background. uhm.okay.shutting upnow.
i love. come teach me.
Don’t worry cause I’ve been filling my time since all the punks are in school with knitting classes just so I have an excuse not to watch peoples kids. LOL. It’s fun to try whatever your feeling at the time, cause you can!!
Hey now there…my MOM makes those. And she’s pretty good at it. But now she paints china…stuff, plates, vases, dishes. Firing with a kiln and everything! And she’s good at that too. Free-hand painting on plates. Interesting. You should see her work. Cool.
When you open your store, wanna sell my cards? :~) Don’t we all do SOMETHING?
BTW…Your doily is really pretty!!
haha, dad! i think doilies that look like that are waaaaaaaaaaayyyy cool.
“I’ve just crocheted a fucking doily” is my new favorite phrase.
I LOVE the gypsy doily. I also LOVE that Roo actually spelled out “fucking.”
A doily is obviously a gateway drug; be careful.
whatever floats your fem boat…mine is growing peony and pansies. go fig.
what is this? a confessional? I shaved my legs this morning! shamelessly!
i love the doily.
wow! that’s a really fucking nice doily!
i’ve been doing the Manic crochet, but as you know i can do only rows.
notice the M.
[...] with all things frivolous. I talk to myself when it comes up (which is often). Why are you crocheting a doily? Because it is fun. But you have more serious things to do. True Art is serious and [...]
Is it bizarre that I am actually envious of your doily? Seriously.
And since I read ahead (or am behind, whichever it is), I love the post about Mrs. Blue. She too encouraged me in a way no one ever did, but she was excruciatingly non-frivolous. She is, in retrospect, one of my favorite teachers.
My mom always called our tendency to be easily sidetracked, alltogether goofy and interested in everything frivolous our “touch of whimsy”. When someone would complain about our lack of seriousness in life my mom would counter “everyone needs a touch of whimsy in their lives”. In recent years I have added “and I am your touch of whimsy” when I say it. Oh yeah, I’m like a friggin fairy godmother I’m so whimsical.