Crocheting with carrier bags

I can get the first row right, but its the doubling back that I mess up with.

Here, I made a video


Every so often the wee voice in my head, not the anthromorphic one, of the one voice that sounds like Emma from the school bus, or countless other folk who've shaped my personality, but the wee self-validating voice, says something like "Get a life!"

Its Friday night (well, Saturday morning) and I'm in front of my computer. I tried, and I failed. I could have gone out to Twee as Fuck and seen Stars of Aviation, from my quiet corner of the bar, making half-hearted small talk with the same folk I usually make half-hearted small talk with. I tried in vain to head out to the cinema with last girl I was seeing, but failed there to. I joisted with the idea of heading to Glasgow for Fabatoir, and Colin and Lynso's club night, but well, my car is about to die, other transport is too painful and well, I could see I wouldn't enjoy being there. I have 18 month old gig review blog and a 16 month old surprisingly successful porn blog, I often go out four nights a week to gigs and stuff. I ran 10K in 42ish minutes last night.

God, what does it take to silence the "Get a life!" cry?

Company?

Companionship?

There was an opportunity to go to a ceilidh this evening, but I think I'd rather swim in blood than go to that sort of thing again, even more to with the company I'd be going there with.

So instead, I stay in and try to crochet my plastic carrier bag collection.

I made a video of it too.

Alas, there's something wrong with the way I do it. And after six hours, I still fail.

Also, I constructed a small spreadsheet to figure out whether crocheting carrier bags using a cardboard crochet hook would increase or decrease my chances of procreation. The results were inconclusive.

However, what the spreadsheet did show is that I don't feel this melancholy way when I'm in a secure relationship.

Strange that.

When the idea pops up about messageing Zee on Facebook, and asking if she fancied coming along to The17 thing next Friday, its the same wee voice in the back of my head that says no.