The other side of compulsive overeating disorder is anorexia nervosa. HBO explores 'ana' in Thin, a documentary premiering tonight at 9 – directly opposite House and Nip/Tuck. According to the schedule, it'll be running at various times for the next month or so, so if I don't watch it tonight, I can catch it later.
[I missed House last week, but understand Chase was true to his snotty self in his reluctance to help a morbidly obese patient, while Cameron, as she always does, came through with compassion and insight. Is that about right? I'll have to be sure to watch the rerun.]
Why, you may be asking yourself, would a fat person want to watch a show about the lives of four women dying to be thin? I'm almost ashamed to admit I've wished for anorexia now and then, over the years of trying to achieve a normal weight and then stay there, and I'm fascinated by the condition. Maybe part of me thinks that if I could just catch a teensy little bit of it – the part where a lettuce leaf is a satisfying snack – maybe then I could lick my own problem.
Heh … get it? Lick? Like an ice cream cone, maybe? Oh, I'm so sick I scare myself.
Yesterday was so-so. I tacked five minutes onto my treadmill time, for a total of 22 minutes, and lifted weights, but just couldn't force myself to get on the rowing machine. Food was within my calorie range, but I neglected to eat any fruit at all, and the only vegetables I had were in a bowl of soup for lunch. But since I didn't completely blow it, I think I can safely say it's four days on track.
Now to the reason for the title of this post: My new interest in beading and my old passion for knitting collided yesterday, and I started making a spiral knit beaded bracelet. I'm using two colors of small square wooden beads, some sturdy ivory-colored buttonhole thread and size 0000 knitting needles.
The technique is pretty simple. String the beads on a long piece of thread, alternating two of each color. Pay attention while you're stringing. You don't want to have to take them all off the other end of the thread when you're halfway finished because you only put one light-colored bead in there instead of two. Trust me.
Once you've strung all the beads, cast on three stitches. Turn and knit one row. For the next and all remaining rows:
With thread in back, slip the first stitch as if to purl.
Push a bead up next to the needle and knit. Then do that again.
It won't look like much until you've done a few rows, but then you'll start to see the pattern develop.
I'm going to put a clasp on each end, but I'm already wondering if it's possible to knit with stretchy cord. Hmmm. Or how about some of that furry yarn and some fun pony beads, with bigger needles? Or gold lamé and gold 8-0 seed beads, which I just happen to have lying around? The possibilities, they are endless!
Then again, who needs that many bracelets?
The other thing that had to happen, after more than nine years of living here in the Middle of Nowhere, is that I hit a deer while driving to the prison last night. When I was active in a flying club, the old saying about ground loops was you either have done one or you will. Same with hitting a deer when you regularly travel our back country roads.
That old 'deer-in-the-headlights' adage is soooo true. There were two deer standing in the middle of my lane, waiting for my car to slam into them. Fortunately I saw them in time to apply the brakes, and I probably only bruised the one on the right. I cracked the cover of my headlight, and there are pieces of deer fur – ewwww! – stuck in the seam between the headlight and the right quarter panel, but no other damage. The airbag didn't even deploy. Looking back on it, it's like it almost didn't even happen. But I was kind of shook up last night.
I'm taking a rest-from-exercise day today, but will be cleaning my house. The water's still not fixed, but the repairmen are coming back tomorrow or Thursday to continue the job. They left a grave-sized hole open in the front yard; if I get really depressed after watching Thin tonight, and I don't post tomorrow morning, you'll know where to find me.