Odds and ends

Yep, I got a new one yesterday. Some guy picked me up in the library (I was informed that he picked me up rather than vice versa.) Turns out we're both Civil War buffs although I'm much more likely to want to go walk a battlefield than he is. However, I did get a phone number and an half-assed invitation to watch a Civil War movie with him. Will I? Not on a first date, but, yeah, why not? Eventually. Amazingly, NDC is much more cautious than DC ever was.

Now, what happened yesterday that I knew I was going to be blogging about today... ummm... ummm... Library Guy (LG) was the closest I came to a whackadoodle although JB asked how I do what I do and would I please teach her. How do I teach someone the smile? And the eyes? I can't. However, when LG walked up, one of my books was sitting on the chair next to me and he asked if anyone was sitting there. I grabbed my book and said that it was just my book and it could sit on the floor just fine and I smiled. JB looked at me and said that that was really clever. What can I say? Vintage me.

I also told someone last night that her butt looked so good in her jeans that if we were both lesbians, I'd have to jump her. Thought she was gonna collapse on me. (Her butt looked really good in those jeans.)

And then there's my pet rant of the day: You can either talk to me or not. Pick one. Stick to it. Yes, CV, I'm talking about you. And now I'm running and ducking.

Gotta see when CV's next gig is... Maybe LG won't mind going even if it is loud and he can't chat.

See? Feisty. I'm firing on all cylinders this week.

ETA: LG just walked up to me, said my name, and put his hand on my shoulder. Twice. I threw the smile and said that I had been going to call him later. Looks like I'm "stuck" now. Very giddy.

Learning to be mean..........

I appear to have a stalker.

It's okay, he isn't a good stalker because I actually managed to evade him yesterday and he has not yet appeared today.

So there I was yesterday at South County in the computer lab and suddenly, there's LS. (Remember how I said he wasn't a good stalker?) LS comes up, says hi, and starts sucking up. Sucking up doesn't work on me and it just makes me think you're more pitiful than I already did. (Notice how absolutely none of my friends are suck ups.)

Well, I had an appointment on the fourth floor, so up I went to use the phone and, suddenly, I realize that LS is using the phone next to me. This is when I kinda freaked out because I missed that one completely. However... I am much smarter than LS looks, so I quietly stood up, gathered my stuff, and snuck out of the office to go down to the third floor where it was way too busy for me. Since it was too busy, I then snuck back down in the elevator to the first floor and headed over to the library.

Whew! I escaped.

The moral of the story: I am way too nice and way too polite. I have got to learn how to be far meaner than I am. I know I came through the last bout of depression with my edge back and I was certainly Ms. Feisty yesterday, but it's still difficult for me to not be nice. It may help that my favorite word is no.

Speaking of feisty, I was feisty beyond belief yesterday morning. Several of us were treated to someone deciding to preach at us first thing in the morning and my rather loud "enough" wasn't enough to shut him up. Fortunately, someone else managed to take care of that piece. Then he started ranting in a nice loud voice right next to me and I put my book down, put my hand up and said "No" twice. You know, when I think about it, I trained my dogs the same way. Now, he was taken aback at that one, but merely waited a few minutes and started in again in a more quiet tone of voice. That was when I looked at him and informed him that nobody was interested in being preached at quite that early in the morning. Now that shut him up and I received more than one expression of thanks.

Cut to later in the day when I had my stuff sitting in front of my seat and someone came up and put a Trader Joe's bag in my chair. She put it down and I picked it right back up and said, "No." Now that freaked her out too but I still made it stick.

Right before that happened, I was accused of making strange finger gestures and pointing at someone. I informed her that I hadn't been doing that and inquired how the paranoia worked for her. Yes, I really did. I asked about her paranoia.

Was that it? Of course not, I had more to go and that's because Faux-Lia decided to attack me verbally. Mark always used to say I shouldn't have a battle of wits with an unarmed person but sometimes it's just too difficult to resist. I had been told by the owner to remove a backpack and take his seat and Faux-Lia decided it was her mission in life to correct me on my non-misconception. Now, if you've ever met Faux-Lia, you know she won't let go and she won't let go and she won't let go until she has not only beaten the dead horse, but flayed it and cut it up into steaks too. I looked at her yesterday afternoon and informed her that I didn't need to listen to her crap and walked off, leaving her stammering and saying that all she did was tell me, etc. Yeah, it started there and it would not have stopped until I smacked her anyway. Faux-Lia got all freaked because I used to be one of the few people who was nice to her and still speaking to her. And let me tell you that speaking to her is not easy because she's a little... ummm... crazy. She informed me once that page 1000-whatever of Obamacare stipulates that we are all going to be microchipped. She also told me that she was one test away from getting her R.N. license but they wouldn't let her take the test because she came in all bruised from domestic violence. You know, it's not that I don't believe her, it's just that I don't believe her.

::thud::  <-- head hitting table

I'm convinced that there was some higher power at work yesterday keeping me safe.

Brace yourself...

I am too nice. I need to learn how to be mean or, if not,  at least impolite.

Yesterday's stray person has turned into today's "make it go away" person especially when I've spoken with Ms. L and she gave me a list of what said person said/did to her and it matched verbatim. And that means I'm going to have to be mean. Now, I proved this morning that I could be mean or if not mean, at least assertive. Someone was being obnoxious by preaching first thing in the morning. So I started with "no" and my hand held up and that shut preacher boy up. However, preacher boy didn't remain quiet so I had to turn back around and inform him that it was too early in the morning to listen to someone preach. Now that shut him up.

Oh lordie, SP (stray person) just showed up here and I think I may be in trouble now if he's actually trying to track me down. Gonna have to start working on the mean and I think I know exactly what to do. Fingers crossed, I'm going to be able to make it stick.

SP just appeared and I made it stick. Yay for me!!!!!

Here we go again

Is there a sign on my forehead that says "please, I really really want you to talk to me even though I really really don't"?

I was out and about this afternoon and here comes some stray guy... well, maybe not that stray since we were both at PRS (I was supposed to meet JB, who hadn't shown up by 2:30 so here I am at the library... btw, don't ask, I'm not telling). But, in a nutshell, I get "Hi, how are you? Do you come here often? Are you going to be around later?" And I just sit there, being as polite and pleasant as I can possibly be without being over-encouraging.

I don't think it worked.

Again... me and the crazy... why? Was I bad in a former life? Is karma coming back to bite me in the ass?

On a semi-related note, a friend, JB, wants me to co-author a book with a friend of hers. Seems she thinks I can write even though she's never even seen a sample and she thinks that G's writing could benefit from my sense of humor and then we could both share the royalties. I'll have to think about it.

On an unrelated note, people who don't answer e-mails where I ask specific questions and/or answer my questions very vaguely really annoy me. Be precise. Say what you mean or don't say anything at all. Seems I may have surprised someone this weekend when I said he could have the last buffalo shrimp. Maybe he didn't think I meant it, maybe he thought I'd change my mind. Ummmm... no. Wouldn't have said it if I hadn't meant it. Although, then again, maybe I was just being polite after all.

I also did something this weekend that I haven't done for a very, very long time. (No, not that. Well, yes, that but something else and get your mind off the webcam, JB.)

I finally managed to walk a Civil War battlefield for the first time in years. Probably 20 years or more. And let me tell you that it will not be another 20 years before I walk another one. Seems Cold Harbor has a one-mile trail that circles what's left of the battlefield. And what's left is a lot of the earthworks and trenches. As you walk the trail, there are signposts explaining what you're looking at. Next time I go, I also want to hit Gaines' Mill, which is right around the corner from Cold Harbor. If it's even close to as good as Cold Harbor is, I'm right there with it. Of course, most of both battlefields are gone because of location, location, location, but it's still fun to stand in the middle and just imagine what it looked like in the still before the battle was engaged. (No, I do not imagine the battles nor do I imagine the aftermath. Way too gruesome for me.)

Going to karaoke tonight since I haven't been for a couple of weeks and I really need to talk to Ms. CV.

Second chances

So, in the midst of my depression, I met someone who I really liked. And I screwed it up because of the depression and I do mean really screwed it up.

But sometimes you get a second chance. I started chatting with this person a couple days ago and decided to go ahead and ask him out. Sort of. I actually asked him if he'd like to go for a walk and chat because I know he's all about the chatting. (No CV gigs for him.)

He said yes, expanded on my suggestion, and asked when I was thinking of doing this. Since I hadn't gotten that far, I had to wing my response (I can do fly by the seat of my pants occasionally) but I'm pretty excited about it. Sometimes you do get a second chance.

I am...

Positive affirmations are a wonderful way of dealing with a lack of self-confidence, self-worth, and depression.

I am beautiful.
I am funny.
I am special (and I don't mean in a short bus kind of way).
I am loveable.
I am likable.
I am a good friend.
I am talented.
I am incredibly intelligent.
I am vivacious and flirtatious.
I am a slice of fabulous drizzled with awesome sauce (thanks, CV)
I am also getting my hair cut before I tear it out (no, not really, but there are days).
I have gorgeous, dancing eyes
I have a wonderful smile.
I attract good people and want them in my life.
I may even be willing to celebrate my birthday this year and not just with Cathy (yes, CV, that may be express, written permission to embarrass me.)
I am grateful for my meds.
I am...

Now that that's done, I'd like to point out that positive and negative connotations don't really exist except in our own minds. There is only neutral until we assign it a value.

That said, tell yourself ten nice things about yourself today. And, if you're really good, you can look yourself in the eye in the mirror when you do it.

I stand in awe

So I was just watching a clip of Ovechkin's highlights from playing in the KHL this year with Dynamo Moscow.

Wow.

I realize that they edited out his crappy plays, but even at that, the man is awesome.

Hopefully he's the Ovi we're going to be getting this year.

http://news.sport-express.ru/2013-01-15/560866/

Edited to add that I just found out the Capitals at Verizon are ranked #6 in Stadium Journey's Top 101 Best Stadium Experiences of 2012.

Is it on my right? Or my other right?

So someone was looking for the laundromat today and she was told it was on the right.

Her response: "Which right?"

My thought: There's only one. But what I said was "It's on YOUR right." I don't think it sunk in.

Think before you open your mouths, people. Really. And I'll try to do the same, but I do have that bad habit of thinking with my mouth hanging open.

I think I need a filter.

Speaking of which, well, not really... Turns out I'm much more interested in the Capitals' new coach than I am in the Caps themselves. I'm all Oatesy, all the time. Who cares what the players are doing? Tell me all about the coach.

I remember an interview he did with Barry Melrose many years ago, when he was still playing for the Capitals. He started talking about teaching the younger guys how to do things without making it look like he was actually teaching them. He also talked about the physics of the game and what it took to land a pass perfectly so that the forward could just shoot the puck as it hit his stick. I saw that a couple times with Oates and Bondra, right off the face-off and it was a thing of beauty. Closest I've seen to those passes is the one Alexander Semin made a few years ago that floated over the defenseman's stick and landed right where Tomas Fleischmann needed it to score. The reporters started talking about Flash's pass and all the guys could talk about was Sasha's pass.

Every goal starts with a pass.

what a day

I despise rain.

I despise people informing me that I'm cold.

I'm not overly fond of inquiring about jobs for people only to be told that it would be too much work for them to apply even though I have a name for them to drop that would about guarantee employment.

That may be all that's irritating me today.
At least so far.

The comfy and the uncomfy

I hate it when I can't sleep. I toss and I turn and I turn and I toss.

Then I had the joy of sitting with some stray guy this morning who I didn't know who decided he had to tell me all about how lonely he was, like I was going to fix that for him (NOT!).

He asked if I was married and I said I was widowed and tried to go back to my book. He said he wanted to get married which instantly made me ask why and then I answered my own question by saying he wanted to someone to come home to. He agreed and started talking about cuddling, etc. I gave up and turned my book off. I tried to tell him that marriage doesn't necessarily fix the loneliness, but he wasn't buying it. I'm sure he'll find out some day, the hard way.

So what is it that makes people think I want to hear all about their problems and their issues. What is it that makes people think I'm suddenly their best buddy when, trust me, I'm not. Oh, wait, it's that whackadoodle thing, isn't it?

I met a younger woman recently who, for some reason, decided I was her substitute mother and got all excited when she saw me yesterday and came at me for a hug. (Yes, CV, I tolerated.) I really don't know her and I more than likely never will, although it was good to see yesterday that she was okay. And then there was the guy today who started unburdening himself.

I really wish someone would tell me what it is that I do so I could stop doing it. Oh, who am I kidding? I love (yikes!) talking to people. Gawd, when did that happen?

And if I tell Ms. D about it, she'll just crack up at me.

I get no sympathy.

Back to the funny

Today's lesson, boys and girls, is all about sugar.

Or why you should keep it away from me at all times, at all costs.

This lesson was learned the hard way last night by some people who didn't know better then, but do now. They let (like they could have stopped me) me have a Cherry Coke. Mistake, big big mistake. Caffeine AND sugar, right before bed. Bad idea. Very bad idea.

I was bouncing off the ceiling. I was outside in the cold wearing flip flops. I wanted to go dancing. I was wearing people out just listening to me talk because it was fairly nonstop. Every time someone said something, I had a response for it. I was ON last night. I even read the majority of a book I've been dying to read last night. And then I couldn't sleep.

And 6:00 came around horrifyingly early.

No sugar tonight. No sugar ever. Sugar is bad.

There is always the capacity for joy

I want to be friends until one of us dies.

Wow.

Hearing that will definitely set you on your ear. I can tell you my jaw hit the floor and I believe I may have been temporarily speechless. Yes, Cathy, these things do happen from time to time.

This followed NG asking me if he was a toxic person. Points to me for not falling back on my old tried and true, "If you have to ask, the answer is no" and actually answering the question. Not exactly my strength, but this also happens from time to time. I'm really working here on giving straight answers to straight questions and not making people pull teeth. Yes, CV, these things do happen from time to time.

NG also told me yesterday that I am wickedly funny and I don't know many people who will disagree with that. In fact, some people would say my sense of humor is downright evil. Like making someone laugh at me when I know that CM will think he's really laughing at her or like suggesting that the next time CM decided to watch television in her towel, someone should push her out the door, closing the door and grabbing the towel. Now, would I really do that? Absolutely not, but it's kind of fun to think about. So, you see, I am evil; really, I am.

Apparently, however, my sense of humor managed to show through my depressed state because when I started talking to, and met, NG, I was severely depressed. When I look back, I can see just how bad things were. I was nearly silent (yes, really, these things do happen from time to time). I broke out of it on Saturday night to a point but I don't know how I made it there and back without running into an embankment. Seriously. And I had a lovely time while I was there, but hindsight is 20/20 and maybe I shouldn't have gone. Then again, maybe I only made it another week because I did.

I'm reminded of a scene in Firefly, in the episode "War Stories," when Niska says, "Now we will meet the real you." NG may actually think I'm quiet... and somewhat submissive... and probably not opinionated in the slightest. I'm looking forward to seeing NG again and this time, he gets to meet the real me, all piss and vinegar.

By the way, it isn't too late yet to run the otherway. I'll just give the object I'm knitting for you to someone else. (Yes, CV, you know what it is.)

Bad Day

It's a bad day.
I have nothing to say.

Sometimes things aren't what they seem

So, CM lost her bed last night and then went crying to anyone who would listen that she'd lost her bed, acting all surprised like she hadn't caused a major uproar the night before. She had to go downstairs to Overflow and was told to stay there.

Down the stairs she went and right back up.

She was guided down the stairs again and right back up.

She accused people of laughing at her when they were laughing at something else entirely. Of course, my evil sense of humor made me make the poor person laugh which made her even crazier.

Down the stairs yet again and right back up.

Then back down the stairs again. And there she stayed. At least until they went and got her and she ended up leaving with the Fairfax County Police officer.

We all thought it meant she'd get the help she needs. She's either over- or under-medicated, but I know her medication isn't right and I'm a lay person.

This morning, there she was, causing trouble as usual. She has to behave herself for 30 days in order to come back upstairs. Day One didn't go so well.

Not anticipating anything different for Day Two.

Side note: yes, I'm keeping a scorecard with all the abbreviations I'm using for people's names. If I didn't, I'd be so lost myself it isn't funny.

I found me one!

So last night, I found me a whackadoodle!!!!! D was telling someone about her day and I really have no idea what she was actually saying because I wasn't paying attention. Well, turns out CM was very unhappy with the conversation and started in on the cussing.

Was there cussing? Probably, but not that registered with me, so it couldn't have been the f-bomb every other word.

There is something horribly amusing, though, in someone actually saying, "I'm a Christian woman and I don't cuss, you m-----f-----s." Paraphrased, but close enough. Unfortunately, this was my high stress, loud, chaotic situation that sent me spiralling. But I dealt enough to find it amusing.

Reminds me of two other incidents.

J: "I have so much debt, I cannot believe how much debt I have."
C: "But you just bought a second car."
J: "Oh, but I sold stock and paid cash for it."

Really now....... didn't occur to you to sell stock and pay down your debt instead?

And then there was B, who went on a hunger strike before breakfast. She refused to go to breakfast, but staff brought breakfast back for those who hadn't gone. About five-ten minutes later, there was B, chowing down on her breakfast. Maybe she didn't  know what "hunger strike" means.

So, there you go...

I found out today that one of Mark's great-nephews was killed in a car accident in Jacksonville, Florida and I actually had to think about my response. Why? Because they're part of the family who decided that I no longer existed after Mark died. In the end, decency won out and I did my usual, "My thoughts are with you" but I had to think about it. Not used to having to think about doing what's appropriate.

Gotta talk to the doctor about something for my anxiety because I found myself in a very stressful, loud, chaotic situation last night and really could have used some Ativan. I only wanted 0.5mg because I knew that would take the edge off but I had nothing. I still despise loud noises and they make me very upset.

Also speaking, or singing (which I refused to do), about last night... it's about me. I am the center of my world and my attention and if you don't like it, you're more than welcome to leave my world. Trust me when I tell you that I will not miss you.

If you want to touch me and I say no, you don't get to be all offended because it isn't about you. Remember that I'm no longer the kinder, gentler Carol who came out of Crisis Care and I'm starting to think that she was a mask I wore in order to cope and convince everyone that I was okay. My brick walls are back up and you'd best wait for an invitation before you do anything more than wave at me from across the room. There are a couple exceptions to that rule, Ms. and Mr. CV, and you both know it. (There are a few other exceptions and you'll figure out who you are as time goes on.) Most people are not exceptions to this rule. Deal with it; it isn't about you.

No bright spots today. At least not yet.

Just one thought: This coming up with something to write on a daily basis sucks. I may actually have to take a day or three off. I've also noticed I had a lot more page views when I was funny. Funny will still appear, just not all the time.

Thinking about friends

I have some of the most awesome friends a person could ever have (CV, DK, SG, and RC, to name a few), which is why I have something of a dilemma at the moment. I met someone when I was depressed and tiptoeing along that lovely cliff, who I really like. I enjoy this person's company and he/she/it makes me laugh (keeping the clues to a minimum here, folks).

So, the dilemma is this: I don't know that I want to keep this person around. I'm not entirely sure it's a good idea, which kind of confuses me because I like to keep people around who I like because they're a pretty special bunch.

So do I want this person as a friend? As an FWB? As something more? Well, not the something more because the next six months (at least) have "me" written all over them. The FWB? Well, back on the Zoloft, so there's no point in that either. <sigh> So, friends... or maybe just FB friends. Except I'm feeling an urge to unfriend this person.

I understand unfriending people when I'm isolating myself and getting ready to go right on over that cliff. I understand unfriending people who are bad for me when I'm in recovery from that ole cliff header. Wanting to unfriend someone who has been nothing but kind and who I like, is very confusing.

So, the word of the day is passive. I will not initiate any contact and will let this person to come to me. And isn't that exactly what a friend would do anyway?

Bright spot of the day: I met a new person, S, who's 18 and has decided I'm his second "mom." (Apparently he hasn't spoken to my stepson any time lately.) So, he has given himself five days to wear me down into agreeing to be his second "mom" and I have those same five days to resist. Last night's attempt ended in my saying, "Yeah, good luck with that." I imagine I'll be saying that a lot over the next five days because S has no idea the size of the task he has just undertaken.

Thought of the day: The mentally ill look like everyone else. At least until they start talking to the walls. Or start rambling on with paranoid fantasies.

That was fast.......

I know I said I was going to be blogging more, but this is fast even for me and we all know how much I talk (even if Shawn talks more than me).

Observation: I'm at the library, surrounded by people, yet utterly alone and I'm perfectly comfortable. Yesterday morning, the anxiety was absolutely destroying me at the knitting group.

Conclusion: I'm comfortable with myself but other people seem to scare the hell out of me.

Somehow, I'm not surprised.

At Long Last... I have re-arrived

So I prepared a blog post last night that just turned into a DH bashing, which made me very unhappy, so I decided to re-write it. Then, because I didn't think my usual four-five pass edit would make it any less vitriolic, I canned it. Well, it's still in my notebook, but I highly doubt it will ever see the light of day.

Instead I have something else in mind... the various reactions I've been receiving to people realizing that I have major depressive disorder and, let me tell you, I have a couple of doozies.

Here goes...

We ask for help. Really, we do. And we do it in any number of ways. We isolate ourselves and wish someone would notice that we aren't around. We become barely functional and wish the people we live with would ask what's going on. We really wish someone would notice and get us to a hospital.

But sometimes nobody sees because we're just that good at covering and the people who think they know us don't have a clue (and sometimes those people seem to enjoy putting us on an emotional yo-yo). Sometimes, when we atually admit that we're off our meds, the person who sees us isolating and spiralling just doesn't care or says that it isn't his problem.

So I forgive you for that thought because I know you had it and I know you said it. I'll even pretend you're ignorant and didn't understand what it meant when I said I had gone off my Zoloft even though you knew I'd only been back on it for two months. I'm so good at pretending that I'll even ignore the fact that you've had daily dealings with someone who's mentally ill before.

The reason I can do all of that is because you actually stopped a suicide attempt by being an asshole and that sent me to the hospital to get the help I needed.

Now I just have to get off that darned Zoloft because I hate it. I despise it. Zoloft totally sucks. The psychiatrist promised me Celexa and I had to go get really sick and need my exotic antibiotics and boom! there's the Zoloft again because Celexa and antibiotics don't mix well. (Of course, this is the same doctor who heard me say I used Mirapex for my restless legs and still gave me Requip, which wasn't the right dosage and you should have heard me at the nurses' desk that night telling them that if the doctor didn't fix this, I was going to keep him awake all night too since I was going to be awake. Apparently I yelled enough to get a sleeping pill and some neurontin for the pain.) But since I was promised Celexa, I'm going to get it if I have to jump up and down and  yell and scream until I'm blue in the face. Well, except I usually only do the jump up and down and yell and scream when I'm depressed and off my meds because you catch more flies with honey than you do vinegar and I've discovered I can work miracles by being sweet. (Yes, it is against my nature to be sweet but I'm good at faking it. The sweetness, that is.)

But I've gone off-topic.

When you mention that you're depressed, you get asked what you have to feel sad about or what you feel sad about. Yeah, trust me when I tell you that sad doesn't begin to cover it. Sad would be an improvement over my utter inability to move (turns out Sasha was the only reason I didn't stay in bed all day).

Then there's the people who tell you to put on your big girl panties and get on with it or they tell you to get your head out of your ass. Yeah, wish I could. I wish I didn't have a chemical imbalance in my brain, but, unfortunately, I do. And if that was all it took to get moving, I'd be halfway to Chicago by now.

Then there's the guy who actually heard me say I was suicidal and I guess he decided that thinking about someone else would fix everything  and said, "How could you do that to me?" Yeah, because it's all about you. I want to hurt myself, but it's all about you. I know you wish it was all about you, but this time it gets to be all about me, unfortunately. Of course, this is also the guy who asked if I meant anything I said in my depressed state. And the answer to that would be a resounding no. (And if you didn't ask, the answer doesn't apply because I know that someone out there is going to wonder if I'm talking about him. If you have to ask, the answer is that I'm not, yeesh.)

Finally, there's the person who thinks you just do it for the attention. Seriously. Yes, I put myself through the agony of cutting my flesh open because I want a little bit of attention. That is, of course, if I even survive the attempt. It doesn't matter if I slice my wrists vertically or horizontally. Either one of them will actually get the job done. (No, this is not and never will be my method of choice, so don't worry about it. Just way too painful for me.)

I've run into all of these people over the past couple of months and the only person who has ever been able to help me in my depressed state is me. I've driven myself to the doctor, to the hospital, to where I needed to go. And that's because it turns out that I'm always conflicted about suicide. On the one hand, I don't want to live but I'm also stubborn enough to not want to die. Go away, but don't leave me alone. Hey, whatever works.

Now, on a much brighter  note, I made a new hooker last night. I took someone with no self-confidence, informed her that I knew she could do it, she looked back and told me that she believed me, and she can now crochet. It was such a joy to see her calm down by handling the yarn and the hook and to watch her self-confidence build with every stitch. But the best part was when she sat down, looked at the yarn, and called it string. She had the lingo down before she even started.