the pattyo

I still need to add buttons to the vest, but I did the vest buttonholes when I had to do the pants buttonholes. Gee … buttonhole fly … FAR too much work! But the pants—hoorah! They are nearly done. All I have to do is hem them, add the buckle in the back (still need that vest buckle too), and add buttons for the required suspenders. (Yes, the director wants us to use the old fashioned “braces” too.)

The nightshirt and hat will have to wait until Thursday. That should go much easier; I plan on picking up the easiest, simplest nightshirt I can find, and I’ll make up a hat.

I was originally going to sew the brown shirt Jameson needs too, but forget it; Mervyn’s, we have a date.

So there you go. I began sewing at 9:30. I took a 30 minute lunch break and then a dinner break that was probably a bit longer. I stopped at 9:15.

Long day. With not a bit of English horn. Tomorrow that will have to take precedence.
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Aside from the joy of buttonholes, and purchasing a buckle for the back, Jameson’s vest is done. The pants are cut out, and after this 30 minute “intermission” I must get back to work. The pants took me over an hour to cut out! I’m sorry, but that’s just ridiculous. But then there ARE 17 pattern pieces (yes, for a pair of pants) and some had to be cut of both the regular fabric and the lining.

If I can figure out this very complicated pants pattern, I think the whole thing will look quite good. I just don’t know if I am capable of deciphering the directions. Time will tell.

When I’m done with this someone is gonna be taking me out to dinner I think. I’m not sure who that would be, since none of this is Dan’s “fault” and Jameson can’t exactly afford to take me out. So … well … maybe I’ll just take myself out!

How’s about that?! :-)

And before I go …
The other day I saw a woman curling her eyelashes. While driving. Not while stopped at a light. Nooo. She was moving. I don’t know if you all have seen the device used to curl lashes, but it seems a bit unsafe to me. (Heck, it seems unsafe to use it when standing still in front of a bathroom mirror!) But this woman was steering and curling those lashes at the same time. I couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if she had to stop short or if she was rear ended. I suspect there would be a loss of eyelashes for that silly woman.

Now back to sewing. Woo hoo!
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Just received:

Do you Cheep And N3w meedz?

Heh. I do not cheep. Not even on the oboe. I do recall that a reviewer once said we “peeped” though. As to the rest of the question … um … I need help in translating it. Anyone wanna help?

And so Bohème is over. (Did you like it, Mom and Carolyn? Hope so!)

I got home and immediately cut out the vest for Jameson’s costume. I thought if I did that right away it would commit me to the project. (Cutting out the pattern is not exactly my favorite thing to do.) I’m putting off the pants merely because I’m scared of doing them! But I will cut them and begin sewing them tomorrow, whether I get braver or not.

When I’m completely finished I will post pictures.

IF the costume works, of course!
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So after putting up a silly blog and then taking it down (and writing about it), I started thinking about how I behave (or misbehave) sometimes. Why would I leave myself open for criticism as I did? And it was really wide open to criticism too, since I posted at a site anyone in the world could read.

I remember when I was a little kid—I had an argument with a friend and I finally got down on the grass and said, “Fine. Go ahead and stand on me.” I felt like I deserved it. Obviously the friend did too, as she immediately grinned and, with what appeared to be great glee, stood on me! Another time I fought with a friend and was devastated that we were having such a horrible argument. It finally hit me though; my “friend” really didn’t care. I finally apologized and made everything my fault and things went back to they way they had been before. She was right, I was wrong, and we were back to being okay.

But there’s this bizarre thing about my personality that asks for criticism, or acts as if I want to be hurt. And always feels as if I’m to blame. Go figure.

I’m sick, I tell you. Sick! ;-)

This psycho-babble was brought to you by yours truly.
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I have to sew Jameson’s costume.
I have to sew Jameson’s costume.
I have to sew Jameson’s costume.
I have to sew Jameson’s costume.

If I say this enough times will I actually get it done? Hmmm. I wonder!

We did buy the fabrics, although we couldn’t find what the director wanted. Brown fabric with white polka dots for the nightshirt and cap? I don’t think so! Not at the stores we searched anyway. So it’s stripes instead. And the pants fabric isn’t exactly what he specified either, but it will have to suffice.

The pattern that the director chose for the main costume is supposed to be an authentic Civil War era costume. Take a look at the picture:

Now, from looking at that, would you assume that there are patterns for shirt, pants, vest and tie? I would. But no—included are only the pants and shirt. So I purchased a different vest pattern, and I’ll wing it on the tie.

The pants pattern is so difficult I’m not certain I’ll be able to do it justices. I would have thought (and hoped) that a simple pair of gathered at the waist pants would have served the purpose, but oh well. I’ll tackle the pants tomorrow. They will be what they will be.

We also had to purchase a Woolrich shirt that will be turned into a jacket somehow, some swim fins and a swim cap, and I’m still trying to find boots we can afford.

Needless to say, theatre is expensive!

But back to the sewing thing. I used to love to sew. I found it therapeutic I think. Now I find it very frustrating. I’m not a great seamstress, and I worry that I’ll blow it and ruin the project. (I also just don’t understand the pants instructions!)

Still, the fabrics look good together, so I’m hoping all will be well in the long run.

Tomorrow is supposed to be a rainy day. A good day for sewing, maybe?
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I had put a link up here to a place where you could put all my negative traits. When I told Dan about this he thought it might not be the best thing to do. (And he knows me and my insecurities too.) So I’ve removed it. Am I a wimp. Sure. Am I chicken? You bet. No surprises.

Truth is, I think I know most of the things I’m not good at. I listed insecure, selfish, unhelpful, distant, cold and withdrawn. I’m also certainly lethargic (the one person who participated listed that … as if I didn’t know!). And of course I could list a lot more. As could you.

But then I got to thinking (something I don’t always do well!); what is the purpose of all of this? For others it might be a way of indirectly telling me what they don’t like about me. They remain anonymous. I don’t. And any stranger could land at the site. People who know me only through my sites know me differently than those who know me in person. At least I think so! For me it’s a way of, as I sometimes do, making myself feel worse about myself. I’m not sure why I do that, but I do! It’s not healthy. And I’m just not going to go there now. (I also have this link at my oboe site. I guess I’d better take it off there too, eh?)

I also found out there’s another place where you can list positive traits. It’s identical to the negative trait page in that I have to begin my listing what I think are my positive traits. Then readers go in and choose what they think about me. But of course I shy away from this list entirely. It seems so … I dunno … arrogant.

Only one person has done the negative trait page. That individual said I was simple, embarrassed, lethargic (duh), timid and humourless, and agreed with my choosing “withdrawn” from the list. (The list uses the “u” in humour, so I’m going along with it. An added “u” always seems to add colour and, yes, humour, to everything, don’t you think?)

So anyway, there you go. I’m not doing the negative thing. It’s just not a good thing for me right now.
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… was great!

I can’t really describe it, or explain why Cirque du Soleil is so wonderful, but it is. Seeing it is like being taken to a much happier world.
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It was Cream of Wheat for lunch today. I just needed it. No good reason, either. You know how it goes … sometimes you just need comfort food and that’s just the way it is!

Tonight we go see Corteo and I’m quite excited! This is my birthday present. We usually have to celebrate my birthday late due to opera, but dragging it to February breaks all records, I think. I’m not complaining, though; to get to see Cirque du Soleil is well worth the wait. Too bad I can’t take pictures while we are there. I hear it’s mighty spectacular!
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So I skipped church today. I felt bad about doing so, but there you go. I was so tired from yesterday (you have to see my oboe site if you want to know why) and I just couldn’t get moving this morning. I rested a lot. I managed to eat my exciting shredded wheat for breakfast and then a fresh bagel (thanks, Dan!) for lunch, and I was a naughty girl and nibbled on the fudge Dan gave me for Valentine’s Day (along with some cookies and roses … more thanks to Dan!). Then it was opera. Opera is always good. :-)

I had an interesting conversation with my parents this past week. I was talking about the Olympics, which I’ve watched on and off (this year just isn’t as interesting as past years and I’m wondering if it’s the way they stations are putting it on or if it’s just run its course with me). I can’t handle the suspense of not knowing who will win in many cases. I usually go to Sports Illustrated to see what the outcome was, and then I’m okay watching. Is that nuts?

I’m NOT the sort who reads the ends of books. Ever. To me that is just wrong. But when it comes to sports I get really anxious. So if I can know the score, that is just fine by me. (You should see me watching a Giants game. It’s ridiculous!) Where in the world did this come from?

My dad was then commenting on how he’s learning more about me (I think that’s what he said … my memory is quickly fading) and mentioned my inability to handle confrontation as well.

He’s right. I want peace at all costs. If that means I have to stifle my feelings and keep my mouth shut, I will do that. If it means I should leave, I will. I hate arguments. I hate confrontation. And I don’t like tension. If I sense any of these problems or find myself in the middle of a situation like this, I want to run away and hide. In my brain I am cowering in a corner.

Oh … and I never watch horror movies. You can’t pay me enough to get me to sit through one. I’d have to hide behind the couch (and I’ve been known to do that).

So, here it is: I’m a wimp. A complete and total wimp.

And that’s the truth.
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