Remind me not to belch into the microphone.

Today, I was asked (as expected) to be the Etiquette Instructor at this term's Etiquette Dinner. (Hey. Stop with the chortling. I do TOO have manners.) (Yes, even good ones. Shut up.) The invitation came at the tail end of a week during which I wrote and graded exams, graded 20 proofs of the fundamental theorem of calculus, and spoke at length about logic, even though I don't think I have the brain power these days to reason my way out of a paper bag. And even my cat can do that. We've seen her do it. It takes longer than you think it should, but who am I to judge?

So, now I'm thinking about etiquette, on top of all the other things, and this led me to think about knitting etiquette. Are there rules? Probably. And if they're not already there, I'd like to add these to the list:

1. If you don't know me personally, please don't touch my scarf. I know it's got a nice, mohair halo, but it's also very close to my face, and I don't want you to put your bird flu all over it. If you're someone I know, feel free to pet it.

2. Don't tell me that something I'm making won't look good on me. Listen. I only wear about 4 colors, and those are the only colors I knit with, too. They look fine. I'm an "autumn." The burnt orange is a good thing, really. No, it won't clash with my hair.

3. If I'm counting, don't interrupt. Definitely don't start counting with other numbers to try to throw me off. I will throw something at you.

4. If the phone rings and I'm knitting, I'm not going to answer the phone. Please don't take this personally. It's not that I don't want to talk to you. It's more that I don't want to put down whatever I'm doing. Leave a message. I'll call back when I'm done with the pattern repeat.

5. Don't accuse me of not branching out with the colors. See #2. I'm a big fan of not branching out.

6. Please don't yell at me if you sit on a metal needle. Also, always pat the couch where you're gonna put your butt, and make sure there aren't any needles there. Needles are expensive, and you might break one.

7. Don't ask, "Can't you go somewhere without bringing knitting?" The answer is no. And a punch to the gut.

8a. If I make you something, wear it or use it. Send photos of you wearing or using it. If I think you're enjoying your handknit, I'm way more likely to make you another.

8b. Some lists of rules say that you should never make a handknit for a non-knitter. I see why. Non-knitters rarely have a good idea about the amount of work it takes to knit an object, even a simple one. Nonetheless, if I held to this rule, I'd only knit for myself and about 4 other people. I propose a change to this rule: if you're not a knitter, but you receive knitted objects, educate yourself about how much work it takes, and then respond as in #8a. Just a suggestion.

9. Don't tell me that I'm knitting "wrong". I get fabric, just like everyone else. I know that I could knit faster, and that one way to do this is to knit with the other hand (and I'm even left-handed, so I should be able to manage continental knitting). I'm not interested in knitting feverishly. I don't meditate on each stitch, but I don't blow by each one either. My way of knitting? It works for me. Can't we all just get along?

10. It's best not to poke, prod, or otherwise annoy someone knitting lace. The charts are tricky, the yarn is as fine as thread, and the needles are skinny and very sharp. I'm just sayin'.

Now, I've got a lot of work to do, what with the reading all the businessplace etiquette (which I don't know about) and the planning of the outfit and all, but I think I can handle it. Academic etiquette is easy, especially in math. Or maybe, just maybe, the expectations are so low for mathematicians in social situations that it's not hard to exceed them. Or it's hard not to exceed them. Either way.