I am cranky tonight.

First of all, it's been grey and cloudy and icky for, I don't know how long. It's seriously affecting my mood.

Second, I sat down in my big chair to knit on the Hiawatha shawl - did the first row of the Side Section, got to the end, was four stitches short. Counted, twice. Ripped back and counted. Added up the numbers of what the pattern claimed I should have, then counted the number of stitches the chart would actually require. They don't match up. I think there's an error in the pattern. I've e-mailed Blackberry Ridge but I don't know if they'll know the problem. I don't want to just strike out on my own because I don't want it looking wonky later on. Ticks me off. I did a few more rows on the new socks instead, but didn't have much spirit for it after having to CAREFULLY rip back stitches (it bites having to undo k2tog's).

Finally, I'm really P.O.'d at the attitudes of some of the Knitlisters. Someone posted a question "Why is Clapotis so popular" and this evening it's dragged out every holier-than-thou, "I never follow a pattern SOMEONE OTHER THAN I wrote," "you people are all such sheep" people. Sheesh. What's wrong with ENJOYING someone else's craftsmanship? What's wrong with saying "It's a nice pattern, it's fun to do, and I like it" or "Well, this is why I enjoyed doing it." Or, for that matter, saying "Well, it's not for me, but this is why I think people like it." I get so ROYALLY TIRED of people setting themselves up as demi-gods because they aren't "followers" or are "contrarians" or are happy to smile down on the stupid silly sheep who enjoy the fun or the comfort or whatever of doing what a bunch of other people are doing at the same time.

Gah. It's like the people I went to school with who were C students but who would smile patronizingly at me (and the other swots who got A's) and talk about how Einstein and Edison both flunked out of school.

Also reminds me of some of my dorm-mates in college, who would quit listening to bands as soon as they "got popular" because, you know, that meant they had "sold out." No matter that the music had not changed appreciably.

I don't know. I have really low tolerance for what I interpret as a snooty attitude, or wanting to pee all over other people's fun.

Grrr. Arrrh. I need to go to bed and read something amusing for a change. Not about Marburg virus, or art-fakery-murders in Venice, or even about British farmers shivering and starving during the Little Ice Age. I don't know what to read though.