


Being a perfectionist means that I only do things that I'm comfortable with and can execute with ease. This means that I knit the same scarves, bake the same recipes, and plod on with my creativity in the most uncreative ways possible. Being overly concerned with messing up means that I never really finish projects -- I start and stop, hem and haw, and freeze from fear of "wasting materials". Blah. How boring.
There are many things I would like to do that I haven't done because first one must have proper materials, proper instruction, proper patterns, proper practice and after all of these things one has, thanks to an excess of propriety, a perfect product.
Frankly, I'm bored with being stuck in the proverbial rut.
So I'm going to quest and make myself do several things over the course of July that will force me to *gasp* flirt with mistakes, possibly ruin materials, and all in all make less than perfect things.
*swoons*
This will either be a freeing experience that increases my self-awareness and allows me to grow as a person OR I will find myself in a hotel room wearing cute vintage wedges with a copy of Mrs. Dalloway and a bottle of pills. Either way, it makes for great blog fodder.
It is Catherine's deliciously moist and cakey banana bread recipe. Granted, mine didn't turn out nearly as pretty, but this is because it popped out of the oven just before 11 p.m. and Sam and I wanted a slice right away before bed. So we let it cool for two minutes and then we couldn't stand the bananay-fragrant goodness torturing us. If you look in the top left-hand corner of the pic you can see where a wayward piece of crust was devoured PRIOR to photography. That's some damn good bread.
You'd think bread this heavenly would make me cheerful, but I'm not. I'm in a mood and what a terrible mood it is. I was stomping around the kitchen last night whilst mixing furiously. No idea why I'm so blah. Partly I'm tired, partly all this socialization that's been going on has me depleted and craving solitude. I'm sure some of its financial worries and the fact that I've become increasingly self-loathing about my appearance. Nearly all of it probably has to do with Aunt Flow.
I want a lot of things right now that I can't have and it is frustrating. I want a car so I can go the farmer's market and the store at a whim. I'd like to buy some new pants because I only have 2 work-approved pairs of pants. I need a night at a movie with some Thai food like mad. Some pretty colors of yarn would also be nice. I have chronic and severe baby envy. Hope is at grandma's for most of the summer and I miss her cheerful face terribly. I'd like to look at my knees or thighs or arms or stomach and not feel disgusting. Geez, I'd settle for having the bills paid on time and not worrying that an eviction is around the corner.
And goddamn it now I feel like I'm acting like an emo.
grrrr....
Since carbs, coffee, kisses, and The Neverending Story haven't worked to get me out of my funk I'm hoping that a few hours of tattooing will help. If all goes well tonight I'll be getting Rutherford, the Owl, touched-up. I need an endorphin high like now please and maybe a bit more banana bread.