Day 234: Attempting sewing

Sometimes I remember why I shouldn't follow patterns to a tee. It doesn't work out for me.

I decided that I should practice sewing again, so that when I get to make dresses it will be perfect. However, it's brought a couple of things to my attention. First, I am  not good at following instructions. Apparently I should only ever take parts from patterns that I need and then make my own. That usually goes a bit better for me. Secondly, I think that my sewing machine has issues with poly-cotton. Which... isn't good... but I need practice, and who wants to spend lots of money on good fabric when they're just practicing and trying out patterns? Not I, friends. Not. I.

Cheap fabric. And my sewing machine is having issues.

And then I learned that the pattern is supposed to be made with stretch fabric. Oops. Thus, I am just going to borrow the general shape and pattern. And maybe make something successful.

In other news, roughly one half of my stuff is packed. I don't officially move out for another month. Can you tell that I'm ready to move out? I'm just getting so sick of this apartment. To make matters worse, the more time I spend away, the more I dislike the apartment. I don't like the way it smells, I don't like the lack of space, I don't like the whiny cat. Ugh. Ah well. I'll only really be in the apartment for two weekends this coming month. For one weekend I will be in Saskatchewan (hooray! So excited!!) and I'm planning to be mostly moved out and maybe even gone the last weekend of July. Instead of being out during the middle of the week. That doesn't make sense to me... and I don't have time for that! Still, it's kind of lonely being without my treasures and dead things. The last things to leave my apartment will be my last couple of dishes, blankets, some clothes, and my doctor's bag and my fox pelt. Incidentally, both things that my fiancee has given me as gifts. No wonder they're comforting items. Even with those two things around and present, it just feels weird to be in my bedroom. The walls are bare, my mannequin heads are bare-headed, and I have boxes stacked upon boxes of things that I won't be needing or using for the next month. I've even packed up all of my tea cups except for one. I'm going to stop rambling on about my packing and moving. It's just an odd combination of emotions. Mostly anxious. Being in this apartment makes me anxious. I just don't feel like I belong here any more.