Got Math?

Or, Thank Goodness This Tank Has Ribs Because I Sure As Hell Can't Find Mine.

I don't know how other bloggers do this. It is seriously hard to take a photo of one's belly. I'm not even talking about the obvious a priori I'm-female-therefore-I-hate-my-belly hardness (yet). That's bad enough. It's the circus act with the two circs, the hanging yarnballs, the risk of dropped stitches and stepped-on ends, plus the tripod-less digital camera which seems to reset itself before I get the chance to press the button, all the while holding my breath to suck in the gut, that's got me stumped. If you're not already stunningly gorgeous (and I most certainly don't rule this out because you knitbloggers are a cute bunch), you all must be using body doubles or something, because your little waists seem flawless and focused in those amazing "look, I'm halfway there" shots.

Still, fifty-two or so crappy photos and a slightly blue face later, I thought I'd show you the miracles of mathematics, also known as how much progress I've made on the Frankentank. It isn't halfway there, but it doesn't suck either, and the math is so on target, I'm nearly giddy.

Oh, wait, that's the wimp-out photo.
That's not a belly, that's just a set of decreases.
Still, it's kinda purty, eh?

I have made less progress than I would like, mainly because I spent an entire evening ripping out and reknitting what I spent an entire afternoon with the Montréal Knits group creating. (Nevermind the medical shit and its effect on knitting time. Suffice it to say, there is medical shit, it's taking forever and a lifetime because this is Québec, I'm frustrated beyond belief with this system, I'm having to fight hard just to know what to do next, and I'd rather not blog about gory details right now because knitting progress is far more fun.)

So, progress! I needed an extra set of decreases in the waist because the littlest tire on top of the stack of tires that I call my waist is apparently smaller than I thought. It's still a tire, but it needed a decrease nonetheless, and it was not going to be happy until I ripped two inches of knitting and gave it the goods.

Yep, I'm holding my breath so hard, my face is the colour of my shirt. The best thing about this little concoction of mine is that it fits even when I breath normally. Trust me, ribbing is miraculous. Can I let out the gut now?

I am, however, happy with the Frankentank so far. Despite the swearing, the frogging, and the reknitting, I'm happy because (1) the tank fits exactly to my body thus far, even when I don't suck in my gut (you'll just have to trust me on this) and (2) during the process of trying to take a picture that does not look like the Michelin Man in drag, I did not damage the camera.

Spiff suggests we get another camera just to take pictures of me trying to use the current camera. Ha bloody ha. Me, I suggest that we simply try to keep the camera we have, not to mention Spiff's head, intact, no matter how frustrated I get trying to take a picture that features a successful stitch pattern rather than a failed diet/exercise pattern.

In any case, I'm hoping that you can at least gather from these photos that Mathematics is our good friend, because by some calculative miracle, the 11-stitch repeat of arbor lace plus the extra side decreases have worked out to be exactly what I need to cover my particular little stack. I so love it when that happens.

Successfully covering the rack, however, remains to be seen. But at least I don't have to hold my breath for that one.

May 31, 2005 10:58 PM  | Permalink  | Comments (15)  | Print