What the Hell Do I Love?

I love scarves. I have a collection that is entirely too large housed in a free-standing closet that is entirely too small. I couldn't say I ever really discovered this love so much as it was imprinted upon me by a scarf from Northern Ireland that hung in my childhood bedroom. I decided when I was about to make my first trip outside the U.S. that I wanted to start an international scarf collection, but only got as far as Iceland. I forgot, during 16 days in Croatia, to buy a scarf. I was in Iceland for probably an hour or two and I purchased a very nice, thick wool scarf that I have never worn since. It hangs next to the scarf from Northern Ireland.
I have not bought scarves anywhere except the U.S. since. I have instead moved on to making my own. I don't know how to crochet, even though it is easier and faster than knitting, and I don't truly know how to follow a knitting pattern so all I can make are lovely rectangles that turn into either scarves and blankets, depending on how commited I am to the project.
Everyone in my family has recieved at least one scarf from me for Christmas and none of them wear them. I like to think of them as experimental, and a hobby that keeps me from scratching my eczematic skin and biting my nails. My ex-fiance has a scarf (or may have since I broke up with him; it's entirely possible that the scarf made its way through the Westmoreland County Waste Management system long ago) that was striped, beautiful black and gray together to make it as manly as a scarf can be, and in wonderful condition due to never being worn.
Right now I'm in the process of knitting a scarf for which I have to follow a pattern. It's my first time following instructions and it took me in excess of five times to actually get the thing started. And it's taking me longer than I ever imagined to make. It was going to be a scarf for myself, since I do love them so much and I do wear all of the ones that were purchased within the continental United States, but my boyfriend from Wisconsin likes it and I figure he may need it more than I will this winter. Although self-evaluated as 'not a scarf man' I can see him rocking it. Just over his black zip-up sweater and below his handsome jawline will rest a beautiful piece of hand-made wool art. There's just definitely no room for the damn thing in my closet.