Some Cats Know

The biggest problem I have run into with returning to blogging is finding the narrative to the story in which I have been largely absent for the last four years. Yet when I have sat down to write blog post I work hard to capture the voice of the twenty-four-year-old me that started this story.  However, I am no longer twenty-four and my view point is no longer that this project was going to be a short six-month experiment.

Instead of getting skinnier I truly became the title of the blog. Blake got Fat. When I was complaining that it was unfair that while my friends were all progressing, getting married, getting skinnier, I was in a constant state of arrested development. I believe the words I used were sucky, circular, and some others that I don’t care to post cause you know, vulgarity. After listening to me rant for a good five minutes they raised their hands and said “Listen to yourself this rant is nothing but you are feeling that the creative world owes you something. It does not. Stop expecting your words, your ideas to manifest itself in this convoluted idea of what skinny is. Take the pressure off. Stop writing for a few months. Take up a new hobby and then come back when you no longer feel your writing is this big burden you have to deal with.

So, I did.

I took up knitting again.

I’m not a knitter. Yet I believe every person who has in need of trying to figure out their life needs to try it at least once. It’s not hard. Just rows of two stitches. Knit and purl. Or how I remember it in my brain yarn in back, yarn in front. Getting lost in the simplicity is where I found the ability to continue to tell this story.

Oh. Did I mention it also has helped me not shove the food in my mouth? It’s like driving a stick shift and trying to eat something it can be done but you are going to end up wearing half of what you are eating.   

I think my neighbors are just grateful I didn’t pick up tap dancing.