Yo Momma So Fat....

I hate Craft People.

This strikes most everyone who meets me as slightly…shall we say counter intuitive on account of my status as the Queen of Why-Would-I-Pay-You-To-Do-That-When-I-Could-Do-It-Myself? I have a cursory knowledge of painting, wine making, light carpentry, re-upholstery, garment making, knitting, crochet, jewelry construction, stained glass design, baking, cake decorating…etc, etc, etc… In the last month I’ve made blankets, two costumes (one of which included the most obscenely ornate trench coat, both of which I completely drafted my own patterns for), a wedding cake and greeting cards. My big goal at this point is to locate an Eames or Plycraft knockoff lounge chair on Craigslist and refinish it in a light gray vinyl and Brazilian Cherry stain.

I may have repaired my sofa with mounting brackets, plastic coated wire and a borrowed hammer tacker but before you confuse me with Craft People, you should understand that there is a subtle distinction between me and them: everything I do is useful and usable.

My Kleenex boxes do not have quilted cozies for every season – though I’m not above picking up some bulsa wood and spray paint to bang out an adorable, mod Kleenex box cover should my lifestyle ever warrant hiding the hideous floral patterns their corporate office reveres so. And yes I could knit you an ugly sweater, but I would rather make your kid an adorable stuffed hippo. Of course I can tell you that vodka and vinegar are the most effective ways to remove a strong scent from fabric, but that doesn’t make me a Craft Person – that makes me crafty.

A few weeks ago, I got quite the shock when one of the girls invited me to her baby shower. It wouldn’t have surprised me because, at their core, most people will do anything for free stuff, except this shower is not the “everyone from work” shower – this is the “friends and family only” shower. At the office, only an elite group of five were invited, or so I was informed in whispers when the card was dropped off and she hissed “friends only – I don’t want a bunch of other people there.” Forgive this for sounding strange, but I didn’t know I was friends with this girl.

It’s not as bad as it seems, it’s just that I’m not a person who has “friends.” There are people that I hang out with/around at work who I don’t do the tuck and run for when I catch a glimpse of them at the grocery store, but I wouldn’t presume to be friends with these people. I wouldn’t call them and ask for help moving or invite them to my baby shower…. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I would resent them asking the same of me, I’d do it in a heart beat…. Maybe it’s the after effect of being the kid no one liked in school but I there are exactly no people that I know whom I would feel comfortable imposing upon in any way. I just assumed that meant I didn’t have any friends – all though, apparently I do. Go figure.

Anyways, the point of all of that is that in the near future, there is a baby shower looming for me. The best thing about this is that this particular person is by far the most reasonable pregnant girl I’ve known and I have every confidence that she will not attempt to make me wear a pacifier necklace or participate in a diapering relay race….(not that I don’t totally pwn in those relay races.) If there were another best thing, it would have to be that this is also a “cool” pregnant girl. I’m one of those people that see something they like once and files it away hoping that some day the information will be useful. Among those ‘somethings’ have always been baby items that I saw once and thought were totally awesome but never had someone to give them to because no one I knew would ‘get it’

This girl – she gets it. I could explode. Suddenly I have a place to bestow all of this stuff that’s clunking around in my head. (Finally I’ll have room for that cure for cancer Colin was always bitching about.)

Problem? The physical manifestations of this stuff are just not as good as they were in my head. Iron on transfers fade, rhinestones fall off, embroidery is too Holly Hobby, that design is so ugly it ruins the funny…

Of course, to the crafty, these are not problems, they’re challenges :P

So last night I raced to four different stores to pick up the necessary supplies but, damnit, the thing that existed only in my head has been brought to fruition…delicious, snarky fruition.