The War on Sewing Machines

Six months ago, I bought a sewing machine at a thrift store so I could re-teach myself how to sew, since it's been literally a decade since I last used a sewing machine. Yeah, I feel old, and I'm about as clueless now as I was six months ago.

It's got to the point where I don't know if the problem is that the machines (yes, plural) I've tried to use are both old and ill maintained or if I am just that bad at using them. 

The first machine is mine. I've found a gazillion videos on how to thread this specific machine, and the only thing I can figure is that it hasn't aged well. It probably used to be white, but now it's so yellow, it's not hard to imagine its insides are gummed up with nicotine. I tried, okay?

The second machine is my stepmom's, and it's old (but newer than mine). She bought it for the same purpose I bought mine. Then she lost the instruction manual and gave up. I found it in our mudroom covered in sticky pool chemicals. I cleaned it up, and I've tried using it, but with little success. I can't find any manuals or tutorials that are specific to this machine or brand.

I'm really not sure where to go from here. 

DIY Envelope and Epic Adventure

A friend of mine was recently injured while playing the sport he's striving to make into a career, so it's a pretty big setback, and I thought he might be feeling bummed about it. I'd found a short story some time ago I'd meant to send to him, but I kept forgetting. It's actually about his sport: "Where Meat Comes From" by Chuck Palahniuk, if you want to know. Today I finally remembered...but I didn't have an envelope to put it in.

No problem! I'd just make one.

I started by cutting apart a paper bag. It even came with the instructions to reuse or recycle the bag. I'm sure they meant "make an envelope with this bag." I'm sure of it.

After a failed attempt at using most of the bag to create the envelope, I was left with only this bit. I cut off the handle.

I had to fold the story to make it fit. Then I folded the bag around the story.

Then I used masking tape to close it up.

And then I used packing tape to seal it up  some more. Then I wrote an apologetic note on the outside because I knew it would be a pain in the ass to open.

 And voila! The envelope was complete. Since I didn't have much else to do today, and I thought the exercise would be good, I decided to walk the two miles to the post office (and then walk two miles back home). My only other explanation for this decision, which is probably closer to the truth, is that today I woke up determined to be a total badass.

It was only 85 or 90 degrees outside, which isn't terrible for a summer day in South Carolina. I remembered the last time I tried walking to the post office, an event that ended with me calling my older sister in tears, begging her to come get me because I didn't realize how far four miles was. I hadn't brought water or worn the right kind of shoes. But today I was prepared! I filled up a water bottle, put on some headphones, and grabbed my camera. I decided to make this into an adventure where I took pictures of all the interesting things I found.

I like to think this car belonged to a tiny environmentalist. In all likelihood, she begged her mommy for a bumper sticker for her car and Mommy gave her one to shut her up, and it happened to be this one. I like my tiny environmentalist story better. I hope it's true. 

I'm sure this organization does great things for our veterans, but its name terrifies me. As if people are donating their hands to hands-less soldiers. I'm sorry if you're just now figuring out I'm demented.

This was also terrifying. I hope these folks made it out okay.

I made it to and from the post office without much trouble. I did have to stop and buy another bottle of water because I hadn't the foresight to bring two bottles, and there was nowhere to refill the empty bottle. I hate buying bottled water with a passion, but staying alive was more important at the time. In all, the trip was a pleasant way to spend the afternoon (at least part of it).

The Stuff People Don't Tell You About Depression

The commercials for antidepressants always fill me with bitter laughter. A voice actor comes on and in a plaintive (usually female) voice describes the apparent symptoms of depression. Sadness. Fatigue. Loss of interest in beloved pastimes. Decreased sex drive. Sleeping too much.

They don't mention the guilt. I've never heard a depression commercial or psychiatrist (same thing, in my experience) mention feelings of guilt. They don't tell you about feeling guilty for your own existence, about feeling like a complete burden to your family and friends. The complete soul-crushing guilt is the emotion left after clinical depression sucks them all away. 

The guilt doesn't start right away; it's a combination of why do I feel sad for no reason and my family and friends must be sick of dealing with me. Cognitively, you understand that the people who love you want to help you get better, but you don't feel it. 

Your feelings, not your thoughts, are the ones that get to drive the bus to Crazyland.

Eventually, the feeling of guilt becomes so pervasive, you start looking for things to attach it to. I attached guilt to a pseudo-environmentalist part of me: owning and disposing of material possessions. I feel horribly guilty after buying things, especially if I buy something that is brand new. Except for food and underwear, everything I've purchased for myself in recent years has been secondhand. Part of this is frugality--why buy something new if a secondhand item is perfectly functional and less expensive? The other part is environmental; by buying secondhand items, I feel like I am decreasing the amount of waste that goes to the landfill. (But I probably am not in reality because new items are mass produced whether I buy them or not.) 

The only extravagances I've allowed myself are "gift" items, things I've bought with money I've received as a gift. But those are fraught with guilt because (1) I received a gift that I deem myself unworthy of and (2) I buy things with the money. I've tried squashing that guilt by buying secondhand items. This thought fell to the wayside after I called my grandfather to thank him for my birthday gift. He asked what I bought, and I told him I bought a sewing machine. Perplexed, he asked how I got a sewing machine for $25. When I explained that it was a used machine, he was noticeably disappointed.

Then I felt guilty for disappointing him. The guilt spiraled on and on until I felt guilty for eating and stopped because I didn't feel I deserved to eat. Because eating is something people who deserve to live get to do.

Depression feels like you can't win, but you can. I'm still recovering after a bout of depression that began some time last year. I have good days and bad. Some days, you'd never even know that something so dark has affected me for over half my life. No matter how you feel, you are never alone.

Music Musings

Today was another one of those days that didn't lend itself to producing a tangible work of art, but I'm trying to do something creative every day. Or at least do something that will help me do something creative in the future.

I did quite a bit of driving today so that I could meet my estranged grandmother for lunch, do some errands, and visit my mother. I always listen to music when I drive. I listen to music whenever possible, especially when I am experiencing some sort of strong emotion, like the urge to be socially avoidant. For all the years I've aspired to be a musician, I've never really spent a lot of time thinking about the music I listen to. At best, I notice a change in key or time signature. Over the years, I've noticed I tend to like male musicians better than most female ones, with a few notable exceptions.

My list of favorite musicians/bands (at the moment)

• The Black Angels
• The Brian Jonestown Massacre
• Flight
• Warpaint* 
• Cat Power*
• Smashing Pumpkins (1990s era)
• House of Fire
• The Dandy Warhols
• Mazzy Star*
• The Magnetic Fields
• Led Zeppelin

Only three of the ones I listed are female-fronted bands. I'm not sure why that is, but I'm not going to worry too much about my preferences. What I've decided to do is think about the compositional elements of the female-fronted bands that I like because, well, I'm a girl. I can't sing like a guy; I mean, I might be somewhere between an alto and a soprano. 

I found myself thinking about Cat Power while I was driving. Repetitive guitar parts, like the guitar could be on loop most of the time. Simple drums. Subtle bass. Sometimes there is a piano. Depressing-but-in-a-good-way lyrics.

I now spend significant portions of each day alone in my house, where I could play music without worrying that anyone can hear me. (It's really important that no one hears what I am doing until I'm satisfied with it. Only one or two of my friends have ever heard me perform.) I could even do some crappy demo-y recording of myself if I really wanted to, just to see what I really sound like. It's a start, I guess.

Veggie Burgers!

Today I'm feeling pretty blah. Maybe it's because I stayed up until four in the morning after building that tv stand last night and got up early this morning. Today is not a day for trying out the new miniature sewing machine I bought yesterday. (Seriously, that thing has some of the most complicated directions I've ever seen.) And with the luck I've had with sewing lately, it's not a day to sew at all.

I decided to make one of my favorite meals: veggie burgers. I'm not a vegetarian, but I have actually enjoyed some veggie burgers more than burgers made with meat. I would like to learn how to make my own veggie burger patties some day. I've found recipes that look good, but I haven't collected all the ingredients. A downside to living with family is that it's really hard to cook a meal if I'm the only one who's going to eat it. Living alone has the advantage in this case; no one is going to make fun of my dinner if I live by myself. And if it's inedible, no one ever has to know. But for today, I used spicy black bean frozen veggie burger patties.

I use the same toppings for my veggie burgers every time, calling them my "famous" veggie burgers. I cook the patty in a little bit of olive oil and vegan Worcestershire sauce. I add a little pepper (but no salt, there is already a lot of salt in the sauce). Then I brown each side. I spread a little pesto on a bun (usually just toasted bread), add lettuce, sundried tomatoes, and feta cheese. Finally, I add the patty and chow down.

Build Your Own Furniture (sort of)

I've tried my hardest to keep this blog updated daily, but yesterday I had to settle for completing a project without having time to write about it. I'd rather not post too many half-assed posts. ;-)

Yesterday, I got a new tv. Since my sister moved out and took our old tv stand with her (okay, it was an ugly coffee table I didn't want), my parents agreed to get me a new one. We ended up buying one of those build-your-own furniture hobby kits. You know, the kind with a million different pieces and about fifty pages of instructions? That kind. It came in a box and weighed sixty-five pounds. Seriously, its weight was labeled on the box.

We bought it, brought it home, and left it sitting in the living room, where it would have stayed if I had not decided to lug it upstairs myself. My dad is many things, but prompt is not one of them. That thing would have remained un-assembled for at least a month if it had been left up to him. So I dragged that 65 pound motherfucker up the stairs and started putting it together. I'd built a bookshelf like this before, so I didn't think the tv stand would be much different.

Clearly I was wrong about that.

But look at me go!

Even though it looks like it's mostly finished, this was really only the halfway point.

And here is everything all set up!

Things I Said to My Sewing Machines Today

Fuck your mom. Fuck your car. Fuck your bobbin-ass bullshit.