archives » May 2009 » day 08: "Pink tumblers."
music gorillaz - latin simone (que pasa contigo)
mood 
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As I blog from my homies' kitchen, drinking Simply Lemonade with lots of ice, thinking about real estate and great songs in foreign languages, my baby awaits. She and I are going to have to make time to get to know each other, and this is kind of making me nervous again. I feel like I'm postponing the confrontation a little bit longer.
This sewing machine thing has turned into one big milestone, one big test that I am forcing myself to take in order to prove myself . . . to . . . myself.
It started out as sort of a "y'know, I bet it'd be really fun and handy to learn how to sew" thing. I borrowed Geneva's sewing machine and started collecting materials. Quickly daunted by initial failure, I returned the machine nearly untouched. I signed up for a novice clothing construction class, collected notions and joined craft forums in anticipation of acquiring a new skill. I dropped the class a few weeks into the semester, citing feelings of alienation and inferiority as valid reasons to forget about sewing for another year. Or two. Or three. Whatever.
Fast-forward to this past year, when I'm coming to triumphant and depressing realizations such as My need finally outweighs my hesitation and fear. That goes for traveling, excelling at work, getting a degree, budgeting, joining the bento cult, even cleaning my room. This is the beat in the back of my head, the backbone of every blog. Must follow through. I try to trap myself in productive patterns. Must commit. I keep calling "do-overs."
Zoom in to the weeks leading up to Halloween. Innocently I mop the opaque dust layer off of my crafty-bin (the one we keep on the porch, y'know) to build a makeshift fascinator for a flapper costume. I rediscover all the old, abandoned projects. The yards of awesome fabric, an array of notions and gadgets, meticulously organized essentials. With the crafty-bin newly cleaned and re-examined because of that damn fascinator, I turned again to the idea of sewing. I waited because in my experience, this sort of thing comes and goes.
And cut to last Thursday where I am realizing this is an absolutely justifiable expense. My need for a sewing machine finally outweighs my hesitation and fear of it. I place the order, "no do-overs." I wait. I grow braver and more excited.
But it's, like, here now and I am on the brink of losing my nerve. 
No, I don't plan on quitting. That is normally what I do with everything goal-oriented and ambitious. Practicing any of the instruments I picked up, for instance. Finishing a song. Finishing a novel or screenplay. Making use of my now-revoked flight benefits. That's what happens 99% of the time that I have a crazy idea and vow to run full-tilt toward its completion. I just go, "Whatever, I'm into something else right now."
This poor little sewing machine is probably sitting on my kitchen table, completely unaware of what it stands for. With my oh-so-impressive record, it could have simply been destined to sit inert in my closet. But with my momentum and anger, I've made it so that this little bastard is Public Enemy #1. It is the physical manifestation, the projection of all challenges I have assigned myself and consistently abandoned. It's like the frickin' Rosetta Stone right now, okay. What answers the machine will reveal will be the key to undoing everything that has made me feel stupid. If I can work this machine I will feel absolutely INVINCIBLE.
It's dark, I know, to openly choose to avoid or abort challenges. As you can see, I'm working on that. If I can get past the tape on the box, I will know I am headed in the right direction.