So you know what I hate? Having someone hijack my knitting group. Like when they tell you that you'll be going to this guy's huge loft in Brooklyn and we can all knit and there's going to be tons of food? And first you can't get out there because not a single cab driver knows Brooklyn streets? So the guy who owns the loft picks you up but you're separated from your friends because there's not enough room in the car, so you're like odd man? Hate that. Then one of the people in the car makes some crack at you about, 'so when are the Chippendale's (dancers) showing up?' and you haven't a clue what they're talking about then they say, 'you're looking at me like I'm crazy' and you're totally busted because you are? Ticks me off. And then you get there and walk in and there's a lot more people then you'd thought there would be and people are there to talk and eat and smoke from the second-biggest bong you've ever seen and suddenly you realize that you're going to be the only two people knitting there? And for the rest of the evening you have to deal with concescending people coming over and smirking, 'knitting, huh?" like you're five years old? Totally chafes me. Then when there is food no one tells you the food is ready, and when you go to get all this food you've been promised it's just little bite-sized pieces of fish so you spend the rest of the time knitting and hungry and making your knitting smell fishy? And everyone is drinking wine including the bottle you brought but you're not drinking because of the heat, so you feel like someone owes you $20 worth of food? Then they put on hideously loud rap music but then change that to horrifying loud FRENCH rap music, very ESL-styling? Awful. Then your friend goes to find some dessert because there's a plate of something nearby that looks like ice cream and you get your hopes up, but then she comes back and reports not only is there no dessert, the 'ice cream' is just a full ashtray? And you get stuck sitting next to a couple of over-tattooed clowns bragging about all the body modification they've had done and you want to call them a couple of pussies because your leg is going to be cut off and that's a lot more radical then some stinkin' tattoos and piercings? Pisses me off. Then somehow you scam a ride home and when you get in your cat goes mental and bites you for no good reason? And the next morning you smell the shirt you were wearing and realize it smells like you've been doing major bong hits all evening, so you'll have to wash it instead of wearing it on your date tonight? Sucks.
I did add about five inches on my scarf though and that I like just fine.