Dysfuntional knitter.

I knit. I like to knit, it passes the time and I get interesting stuff out of it. I do not, however, identify myself as a Knitter. I don't knit at parties, I don;t knit to make a point. I knit because I like to. Sometimes.

So why was I so offended when I was called a "knitter" with a serious eyeroll? It didn't really make an impact on me at the time, other than to be mildly amused, but it obviously festered enough for me to bring it up in my recent "get this off my chest" email about how boring I am.

Knitting fills a weird need for something I can't quite define. On the surface it makes me feel like one of the cool kids (in the knitting scene, at least. few people would go so far as to call knitting "cool") for possibly the first time in my life. I think it just happens to be *my* knitting community that makes me feel that way but I don't care. It's not like I stray far from the fold.

Knitting lets me create things for a person that doesn't exist. The cute pink sweater in size 2T for the little girls I'll never have and not so secretly covet. The sweater that looks super glam on someone who weighs 110 pounds. I can convince myself that it will look great on me the entire time I'm knitting it, and when it looks like arse in the end, I don't even really care. The boyfriend I secretly want, though I would never in a million years admit it and it's always something I can keep or give away.

So it filled me with great pleasure when it turns out he likes that I knit. Even if he's just saying that because of my hissy fit, which was in general completely unrelated to knitting.

Come on, tell me your secret reasons for knitting...