Well, I'm here. What should I do? I KNOW, I'll set up my new serger!
|I looked at this and my stomach dropped through the floor and started to dig into the house's foundation.|
|It doesn't get any better when you look at the entire two pages.|
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA yeah, that's cute. It's got so many letters and numbers that they ran out of regular ones and had to start putting other sets in little circles. I could follow the basic stuff all right, like "bring the thread up from the spool and through the guide at the top (the weird metal pole with holes in it that looks like a T in the diagram)."
So I get everything set up with the exception of one looper. Because this looper is a Special Looper. This machine is an overlock serger, which means that it has to make little loopy bits (overlock), via two weird little metal thingies, and you have to thread said metal thingies correctly or nothing at all works. You'll just get a bunch of sad little stitches that don't really hold anything together and then fall out at one pull.
|See how half that shit isn't even visible? It is buried underneath the presser foot and basically everything else on that side of the machine. It's LURKING inside there, just waiting to fuck with you.|
I stared at it, chagrined.
Opened it up again, looked at everything, tried re-threading the Special Looper. More screwdrivers and tweezers and cursing. Closed it back up and attempted sewing. CLACK CLACK CLACK. Plus a weird mess of threads all in a pile.
I stared at it again and wailed, "WHYYYYYY?!"
In general, I'm pretty sure loud metal noises are a bad sign. Opened it again, gave the Special Looper a vicious glare, and applied more screwdriver-ness. I lowered it all the way down, in the hope that it was banging on something and I could make that horribleness stop. No more mess of threads this time or CLACK CLACKs, just Sad Stitches.
Kinda wish I'd had the presence of mind to photograph the Sad Stitches, but I was too busy suppressing the desire to throw things.
It was at this point that I strongly contemplated either scream-crying, going out to buy a baseball bat for the sole purpose of beating this demonic contraption to death, or both.
Instead, I sulked. Stared at it. Muttered obscene things about its questionable parentage.
I did the only thing I could think of, which was to hold the cursed thing in place with tweezers, unscrew the connection, raise it a bunch to its top height, and re-screw it. If it CLACK CLACKed again or just exploded, so be it.
But lo! It sort of worked! The tension was still screwy, and I wasn't really sure what to do about that, but I decided to fool with it later. I'd had quite enough of this crap for one night.
|See how the loops are in weird places and kind of migrate around? BUT THERE ARE LOOPS, AND FOR THAT, REJOICE!|
Also, I probably would've just rage-yelled incoherently. Not productive.
Patrick is going to help me try to finish setting it up tonight. Pray for us.