The meaning of Blue

This morning, as I staggered out of bed, some things occurred to me. This by itself was rather remarkable, since I am generally incapable of thought until I’ve had a fair bit of coffee. More things have occurred to me since getting my coffee…so let’s get a little introspective, shall we?
1. Claudia threw down the gauntlet yesterday in the comments, surmising that her lime tank is better than my blue tank. As I prepared to go to war to defend my blueness and say vile and defiling things about Claudia’s lime tank, and go make a comment on her blog about how sucky the lime is anyway, and why doesn’t she….like…knit blue stuff when it hit me.
I like lime better than blue. (I am especially envious of Claudia’s lime, which is much better than my blue) I like orange better than blue too. I also like green better than blue. This revelation begs the question “Why is everything I’m knitting for myself blue?” Pathetic Fallacy perhaps? Does this mean that I’m expressing something? Is the blue symbolic in some way? Do I own too many pairs of jeans? Am I wimping out? What would Freud say?
(Vell now, let us konsider vat you are sayink. You prefer zee ozer colourz but you deliberately deprive yourzelf of zees tings dat give you pleasure. You are angry wiz your fazer? You need punish yourself for somtink? What does your mozer tink of blue? Let us examine also why your laundry is undone.)
2. This tank is boring me to death. Ok, fine, near death. I can feel my life force slipping away as I work each monotonous ribby endless row…it is only my deep belief that I will win the ongoing war with the splitty yarn that keeps me hanging in there. (It is an interesting twist of fate that the needles appear pink in this photo, when they are, in fact…you guessed it, blue)
I can’t wait to get to the front, at least then the cables will prop up my will to live. This brings us to the second question. Anybody else notice that I’m knitting pretty simple stuff these days? Is it just me? I feel like my knitting lacks…zip or something.
What I need is Daredevil knitting. Something wild and dangerous, something with real hazard, like huge gaping steeks, or reams of lace knit from the finest wool I can find…or maybe a sweater with an insane chart, screw that, how about like Four charts, yeah! Four charts with tiny little squares and parts where the instructions are vague and it’s do or die baby. Some pattern that takes real gumption, something I can get behind. A pattern that takes guts.
It may be (gak) time for another Starmore, or something like THIS. (I got woozy when I looked at that. I’ve wanted it for so long).
Suggestions for breaking out of my knitting blue funk are graciously accepted.
Samina asks which mag my new cabled tank is in, why it’s Vogue Knitting spring/summer ’02, (you know, the one with the blue sweater on the front.) but do me a favour, knit it out of something orange, will ya?