A Second Attempt

So after getting my hopes up by listening to Barack Obama and knitting (and making lemon wedges (and by the way I hate cooking. You spend so long making something only to have it disappear. How unsatisfying!)), I worked myself up to have another stab at that skirt.

So I broke another needle.

Damn me and my affinity for ruffles and pleats and volume and puffiness. Why, why must you jam the sewing machine? Why can't you just get along with each other?

Lincoln: (in response to my feeling like such a failure) I feel like such a failure. I have more poptarts than I can eat in a month.