At least I have a hobby outside of the masturbation world, you stupid pussbag

I am a college student. I work half-time in the campus computer labs to help cover expenses. My job requires me to do very little actual work. I sit in the lab and help freshmen open their Hotmail and tell people that they can’t print because the network’s down.

Because I spend next to no time during my shifts doing “work,” I have other things to fill the hours. When the homework’s done and I’ve read as much SDMB as I can possibly take, I like to cross stitch.

Apparently, this makes me some kind of a freak show. Last night, as I sat quietly sewing away in a nearly deserted lab, a small group of exchange students decided the girl behind the desk with the embroidery hoop was the funniest thing they’d seen all week. Pointing and loud laughter were involved.

In the interests of keeping my job (a supervisor was present), I bit my tongue and pretended that each time I moved the needle through the cloth, I was sticking them in the eye. I just fail to see what was so damn funny. I have a hobby. I enjoy said hobby, despite the fact that it is not widespread amongst people my age. I happen to think it’s important that young people learn and practice handicrafts lest the skills involve eventually die out. (A long way off for cross stitch, I admit, but I like to plan ahead.) And damnit, it’s relaxing. I’m making something, and there’s a fair amount of skill involved, but it doesn’t involve much deep thought and the repetitive motion gets sort of soothing after awhile. Come to think of it, those last two things give me something in common with the laughing jerkoffs.

[sub][sup]**NOTE:**I am so proud of myself for tying the “masturbation” of the subject line into the content of the post rather than just using it to attract Dopers to an otherwise mundane semi-rant about jerks who think it’s funny to see someone embroider.[/sub][/sup]

So, to sum up, those guys were assholes and I wish them ill. May they choke to death on their own semen. And I hope the coroner calls me from the scene so I can come over and pluck the eyes from their corpses with a tapestry needle.

I so hear you on this.

I knit. It’s a recent hobby, but one that I enjoy a fair amount when I can find the time. Unfortunately, being a full-time student and a part-time employee means I don’t have a lot of time to indulge.

So I take my knitting wherever I go and sneak a few rows here and there.

Much to the amazement and dismay of my fellow students, many of whom, I am convinced, have never seen anyone work with their hands before.

You have more restraint than I. I would have given them the evil eye until it burned through the backs of their skulls. That would have taught them.

I occasionally tease my GF about her cross-stitch, but the two of us both know what teasing is, and the fact is I envy her small motor skills at times.

The guys who were laughing at you are not worthy of death. I think a long, slow torture by having the word “ASSHOLE” cross-stitched into their chests with a red-hot needle (and red thread, of course) would be more appropriate.

LL <-- is, apparently, following you tonight.

In the interests of keeping my job (a supervisor was present), I bit my tongue and pretended that each time I moved the needle through the cloth, I was sticking them in the eye.

Heh. Hee heh ha ha!

This is one of the funniest things I’ve read in a long while. At the risk of sounding like a nerd, let me say that the ironic contrast between the tone and image is wonderful!!

Carry on…

You know, that’ll make you go blind. :wink:

Lasarus, I like the way you think. It was an engineering lab used only by engineering students. Sooner or later, they will return. And until then, I will be there–watching, waiting, and sharpening my Vengance Needle.

sdimbert: My life is merely a series ironic contrasts. I live but to entertain you. :slight_smile:

Or vengeance. Whatever floats your boat.

Or Lazarus :smiley:

Engineering students, huh. Well, that explains it.

<hangs head>

I was once an Engineering student. Actually got my degree even. Never practiced as one, though, becuase in the course of four years of dealing with Engineering students I realized that I hated engineers. 99% of them were pricks with this holier-than-thou attitude toward, well, pretty much everyone including engineers in other departments.

I also got a Chemistry degree. Most of my classmates thought I was nuts. I thought they were jerks.

Engineering students require special tortures. While you’re stitching them…

Have a friend, nearby, reading loudly from Hamlet. Or MacBeth. Your choice.


So that’s the secret. My yard needs mowing, my house needs painted, my dishes need washed and I haven’t slept in three days, yet here I am pasted to the monitor watching the SDMB soap unfold.

What is this miracle “cross stitch” drug and where can I buy some. :slight_smile:

I know how you feel Juniper, I cross-stitch. And its the most relaxing thing I have ever done.

yes I took it up four years ago in my late twenties, and no its not funny you arseholes who think its an old ladies hobby. Shit I hate it when people say “you do whaaattt?? cross stitch???” but thats for old people!" Sheesh! so who’s rules are those??

Oh thanks for allowing me to rant about it aswell juniper I feel surprisingly calm now.

Needlepointing is cool. (I was considering taking up weaving the other month. My late grandma was a professional weaver and my dad has her loom disassembled in his basement. Maybe this summer.)

But don’t be knocking masturbation!

It’s sex with someone I love. :smiley:

Hey, i like knitting. I’m 23.

All my friends think it’s cool that I knitted scarves for them.

We should get together and you can show me how to embroider insect designs my pants, and i can knit you a hat with a litte pom-pom on it.

Wow, this is lame.
I’m not a very formidable presence in the Pit.


Whew! I was sure this was about me.

Dogsbody wrote:
Much to the amazement and dismay of my fellow students, many of whom, I am convinced, have never seen anyone work with their hands before.

I’m really beginning to think this is true. Is it just the people who live in cities or what?

I like to embroider and I’ve had total strangers comment on it at bus stops. Maybe I’d be more tolerant if it was cute guys making comments.
I make beer and wine and you’d think, from the reaction of my coworkers, that I spend my weekends digging ditches in which to place the bodies of the puppies I strangle. I can’t buy a box of mason jars without the clerk asking if I’m buying them for my jam-making grandmother. Grrr.

Juniper200, If needlework makes them nervous, perhaps you should take up the bagpipes.

Where were they from? Maybe in their country, only 6-year-olds in sweatshops do such things.


My friends make fun of me because I crochet. OK, it’s not the most active passtime, but it’s totally relaxing and gratifying. I think it’s great to have things you’ve made yourself around the house and you can make great, personal gifts. There’s nothing better (ok, there are a COUPLE of better things) on a cold night than to curl up with a warm cat and an afghan in progress.

Some people see no value in craftiness and think if it’s not store-bought, it’s not quite as good. I made strawberry preserves a couple of years ago and by the look on my mother’s face, you would have thought I’d handed her a jar of plague.

I embroider and I like to do it in a our big living room and turn up a classical CD (preferably Bach’s organ works :D) really LOUD and just feel the music, baby, and get something done at the same time.

Next time they do it, you should go over and say in your sweetest voice “Oh, is there something you’re having problems with on the computer? Do you need help knowing how to print something?”. If they are exchange students from a country that is “macho”, this should shut them up. :slight_smile: Good luck.

Hain’t nothing wrong with cross-stitch, sweetie, at any age.

I know lots of people who do handiwork (cross stitch, embroidery, knitting, crocheting, tatting, etc.) including a colleague who will find cross-stitch useful to pass the time while she tests an infrared spectrometer in Antarctica next year, my grandfather who was a WWII POW and beer truck driver, a computer programmer, and, uh, me.

You have had the misfortune of meeting a few unappreciative goons who must have some weird cultural hangups or something. Or maybe that’s just what happens when you put a bunch of immature jerks together in a computer lab late at night. Pointing and laughing? My response would be to ask loudly, “Excuse me gentlemen, but what grade are we in?”

Shhhh! [sub]I used to cross-stitch, too.[/sub] I also once made a little jacket for my nephews first birthday. No pattern, just made it. Sure, I used a sewing machine, but was still impressive.

Whenever anyone gets a smart mouth I usually say something like: yes, I sew. I also cook, am tidy and have two cats, but I’m also a Marine, and I can kill you. So no smart-ass remarks, m’kay?

Did you actually hear the comments they were making?

Are you sure it was the cross-stitch?

Maybe they just thought the toilet paper stuck to your shoe was hilarious. Maybe you bear an unfortunate resemblance to someone they mock for other reasons in another location.

That they were boors (who might accidentally lose their connection to the server just before their big test run prints) is undeniable.

I’m not sure that your hobby was the target of their abuse.

xtal, you should see the expressions on their faces when I tell them I bake bread.

Them: You mean you use a bread machine? -or- Oh, yes, I love my bread machine.
Me: No, I don’t own a bread machine. I make it by hand.

But, you know what? I’ve been able to make my roommate and her sister very happy the last couple of years by making homemade panetone for them at Christmas, which I don’t think a bread machine would handle very well, and I also was able to knit a blanket for my best friend’s first child that he should have for the rest of his life.

And no, it’s not just “city folk.” Some of these kids also come from (relatively) rural environs. :shrug:

Their loss.