Ishbel of the Sea
Madtosh Pashmina in Filigree
Somewhere along the line I learned how to feel superior to things. A long time before that I learned being superior was superior. Somewhere in between I learned that feeling superior is bad for my soul. It's only been the past few years that I even questioned whether or not it is bad for everyone's soul. I assumed it was. ASSuME.
And knowing this I feel superior. It's a fucking labyrinth. Where's the exit?
The Periwinkle Sheep
Watercolors Worsted Superwash in Truffle
I am lucky. I could have fuckin' lupus. I'm lucky. I found out I had Lime Disease because the tick was still attached to my arm and my arm had the tell tale physical symptoms, a nasty infection and a rash. I am lucky. Two weeks of antibiotics and I will be cured and maybe even now immune to Lime Disease. The CDC isn't 100% sure about the latter, but the former? Fuck yeah. I am lucky.
If it's one think I hate. HATE. It's having an undiagnosable ailment. And Lime Disease is a poster child of undiagnosable ailments.
But why? Why am I lucky? Will it end if I keep questioning why?
Single Ply Handspun
100% Superwash Merino from Woolen Rabbit
You know why I feel lucky right this moment? I rewatched the most wonderful film. The film is Timer. A perfect movie awakens something magical in me. I feel happy and content and crazy-in-the-mood to spread it around like air.
This movie makes me happy because it loves women. I'm not a critic so I don't know if it's the script (definitely) or the director (could be, too) or just my imagination, but it is a romantic comedy for the overthinking woman.
It is not a romantic comedy about an unassuming woman-child, standing wistfully on a street corner waiting for the bus with an angled hip and perfectly pigeon-toed toes.
It's about a woman who knows what she wants, who is occasionally shrill, but not shrill from a imperfect nature, but from a place of intellect, in an imperfect world.
Do I make sense? Lemme reread that rant.
Yeah. It makes sense to me. It doesn't convey all I want, but I am not perfect. I know what I like and this movie hits numerous single sweet buttons:
1) snarky women? check
2) intelligent women? check
3) imperfect women who get what I feel they deserve? check
4) raw passion? check
5) class and race consciousness? check
6) a sense of community? and hope? and a whopping melodramatic sentimentality. check. check. check.
I waited two months to rewatch it. Not two months specifically, but I did not rewatch it right away and overdose on it like I usually do with movies I love. I let it simmer in my mind. And Frankly? I was afraid my love for it was a fantasy. I couldn't believe I could love a movie this much. (Again!) I am lucky to love this movie and to love all the movies I loved.
100% Merino in the Playa colorway
Love. Love. Love.
All you need is love.