One day I’ll be able to get my own place…and it will be great. I know most people have their own place, of sorts, by the age of 32, but I just haven’t found the right girl yet. The right girl has to be into knitting as much as I am, and I just don’t think I’ve found anyone who matches my enthusiasm. Not even at Knit-Con! And if I can’t find my perfect knitting girlfriend at Knit-Con, then where? They’re all a bunch of fake knitting girls, into the hobby to get attention.
Just you all wait until I’m famous though, and I get a job knitting professionally. I have it all planned out. So I’ll have a penthouse apartment, obviously, and all the windows will be frosted. I’ll find a company in Melbourne that does really good window frosting and have them do the whole penthouse in a big square. All the people at the top of their craft are a little bit eccentric, right? You have to be, to make it to the top. So I’ll have this penthouse suite with completely frosted glass, and people will call it something cool like ‘The Crystal Tower’. The tabloids will be all like ‘that eccentric knitting genius, who lives in Melbourne’s famous Crystal Tower with his devoted, blonde, Scandinavian wife who shares his passion for knitting…’
I just like the look of frosted windows, except you only really ever see it in bathrooms and…maybe that sliver of glass next to a door. I’ll have the ultimate privacy to have knitting parties and create massive sculptures out of knitting that I’ll present to the world once I’m good and ready, and they won’t be interrupted by my Mum bursting into my room halfway. She RUINED my half-life-size knitted elephant. And honestly, being in a penthouse won’t help. I could get the very best glass frosting Melbourne has to offer, and she’s still find a way to RUIN MY LIFE. Why must everything be such a drama.