So I haven't been feeling very cool lately. Maybe it's just the hormone-induced attitude changes (thanks, uterus!) coloring my view of recent weeks, but I just don't feel cool.
For one, my literary obsession of late isn't something I can talk about with most people. Everyone knows Harry Potter (although I have a more vast set of knowledge on the series in my head than many may realize is even possible), and every geek worth his pocket protector gets a good Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy reference ("What is the question?"), but nobody who isn't in the running for an English Lit degree seems to adore Shakespeare the way I do.
The insults in Hamlet, the sexual tension betwixt Beatrice and Benedick (hell, in Spanish IV, my chosen Spanish name is Beatriz after this woman!), just the changing-up of his style from work to work- it's all marvelous! I'm simply devouring his works, and since all my favorite people are more engineering geeks than literature nerds (and the lit nerds I find all feel super pretentious about it), I'm finding it hard to discuss.
For another, my hobbies lately are off. Gone are my days of learning Python for my internship (I mean, I have the internship, but it isn't my biggest obsession, which is probably a problem). Hello, knitting! I have recently knit a voodoo doll of a friend for the same friend, a hat (which I started last November and left almost complete in the top of my closet until a week ago), a scarf with stripes based on the digits of pi, and a Golden Snitch. I'm now working on my first legitimate hat (knit in the round rather than knit flat and seamed up the back) and a Möbius strip cowl.
I mean, knitting's incredibly fun, not to mention it has a more tangible result than any other hobby I've ever had, but again, there's no one to discuss this with in my life other than my grandmother. If I try to talk to friends about it, they beg me to make them things. Because they don't knit themselves, they don't realize how much effort it is- even once a project's done, if you have a thousand color changes, you have two thousand ends to weave in. Which is a bitch, jussayin'.
Ah, well. If being cool is anything like being beautiful, it is "a witch / Against whose charms faith melteth into blood*." So who needs it, right?
*blood passion, desire