Why Perfectionists Shouldn’t Blog

For the past 90 minutes, I’ve been trying to find some way to admit that I’m a perfectionist without using that term.  I really don’t want to be a perfectionist.  Perfectionists are annoying, besides which, they apparently think they can be perfect.  I know better.  Hell, I had to ask my husband earlier how old I am.  Yeesh.  If there were a perfectionism checklist, however, I would have to put a mark in every God forsaken box on the God forsaken form, because that’s exactly who I am, right down to the “overreliance on rigid, self-imposed rules” and the “strong need for outside approval.”  (Dammit!)  At any rate, this week, I learned an important lesson about things that perfectionists should not do.  Ready?  Perfectionists should not ever announce publicly – as I did in last week’s blog – that they’re going to try to design extra-awesome crocheted versions of Sam and Dean from Supernatural.  No.  See, perfectionists set high standards for themselves, but they don’t put those standards in print!  Because wait!  What if people are all, “Yeah, that’s decent, but I wouldn’t say it’s awesome“?  What if their ridiculously high standards aren’t high enough?  What if they need to become a perfectionist about being a perfectionist???


Yeah, it’s been a long week.  It’s been so long that I let my husband take this picture of me in my pajamas stabbing myself in the eye with this pair of scissors because I am so tired of being so stressed out.

Me Stabbing Myself in the Eye


Admittedly, for all of the frustration, I’m excited about what I’ve accomplished – like this cute little boot for Dean, which both holds his weight and has anatomically correct shoe parts, including a tongue and laces.


NEW Boot with Laces


I’m a little less excited, however, that I drafted and destroyed four other boots before I got to this one – including the one I posted a picture of last week, which was (the more I considered it) just a little too pointy on the top. I scrapped the leg from last week, too, or to use the proper crochet terminology, I frogged it – as in, take the yarn and rip it, rip it, rip it.  Truly, I haven’t frogged as much in my life as I’ve frogged in the past week: Legs, a jacket, hair, arms, arms, more arms, hands, arms.  You can see the new legs in this picture here, but where’s that top?  Oh yeah.  Frogged it.


NEW Before Frogging


NEW After Frogging


After all of that frogging, you may not be terribly shocked to learn that Sam and Dean aren’t finished.  Dean will be the first one done, as soon as I give him a little more bulk in the shoulders to balance out his pecs.  I also need to sort out whether I really, truly have to give him a removable jacket.  Because hey, it’s not like I want him to be extra-awesome, and now that we all understand that, I’ll have final pictures and a pattern next week, for sure.



  1. shuckclod

    Laughing at with you… Crafts don't have a time schedule. They are suppose to be fun and relaxing. Not so frogging stressful. 🙂 I am a perfectionist too, but I only need my own approval. Don't poke out your eyes, even though you have 4 of them. Have a great weekend.

  2. Lilli

    Stop…………I need to catch my breath………….wooo….. wooo o…k… now…..wooo…wooo…..Sssssammm AND Dean????? OH.MY.FUCKING.LORD and heaven above! ………….thud….

  3. You do look pretty frog-buff. BUT yeah, I totally get you on the need to be perfect without admitting you feel a need to be perfect. I am with you in paint-covered spirit.

  4. Wombatvet

    Dibs on the first pair!!! 🙂

    PS- I shared this on twitter so you might get a few extra readers.

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