Getting into and out of the groove: Part II

So. The groove. Isn't it the best feeling when you're in it? And doesn't it both suck and blow when you're out of it? Damn that groove.

Anyway, as I was saying, it had been a while since I last stamped. Usually a social activity for me, stamping almost always happens with B-SNAK and our other very good friend who I'll just call Ms. Refusing to Watch American Idol Even Though LaKisha Jones May Very Well Be The Most Amazing Woman Anyone Has Ever Seen In The History of Ever, Because Ms. Refusing Already Has Too Many Shows She's Watching, Esquire. Too long for a nickname? How about Not Watching American Idol? NWAI. That's better.

Ok. So, the three of us have been stamping together for years now. We get together, play awesome music, crack wise, make cards, and laugh a great deal. We also threaten to punch one another in the face a lot. It's usually in this context:

NWAI (to me): Did you see what B-SNAK just made?
Me: No.
B-SNAK: Look!! (holds up a ridiculously intricate and beautiful card that she made in about two seconds)
Me (to NWAI): What a little bitch.
NWAI: I'm gonna punch her in the face.
Me: She knows what she did.

Oh, to be clear: any one of us can be the little bitch in the above scenario. It's just usually B-SNAK, because she's a card-making machine.

This day was no different. It was B-SNAK's birthday, and she was on fire.

Usually, she'll look through magazines or books for ideas, and she'll limit the supplies she's using. Lately, she's been using items from kits (she's a member of an evil monthly stamp club). But, she was already five steps ahead of the game on Friday. Believe me, it was "B-SNAK is a little bitch"-this and "You know what you did"-that all morning. NWAI just jumped right in, too, like she hadn't missed a beat, and she finished 12 cards in about 5 minutes. Right back into the groove!

Me? Yes, well. You won't be surprised that my snail's pace isn't limited to just knitting and sewing. As the tornado of productivity whirled around me, I slowly made my way through my supplies, testing things out. I calibrated my expectation machine, ensuring everything was properly low. But I stayed strong. And positive.

So you can imagine that I was thrilled when I created this combination of stamps and inks:


My inside voice: Thank God I can still figure out how to put things together.
My outside voice: Who's a little bitch, now?


Woo hoo! This pleased me greatly. B-SNAK has taught me many things, and one of them is when you create a good card, make multiples. I made 10 of these. (Most of them aren't as wonky as the one on top appears.) So! Happy! The dust, the agony... all worth it!

I'll save you some legwork. Here are the specs for those cards:

Stamps: Impress - large circle of dots, thank you dot
Inks: Versamagic - Jumbo Java, Pink Petunia
Papers: Bazzill - Parakeet, Chocolate; Stampin' Up - Ultrasmooth Vanilla


In the spirit of adventurousness I tried two other things in the afternoon, and was underwhelmed. They're fine. Not terrible. Fine.

(1)

Stamps: Leavenworth Jackson - dude in hat and coat, clouds; Zettiology - tree in background; unknown company - tree stamp to represent "grass"
Inks: Versamagic - Jumbo Java; Versamark - for watermark images of clouds, "grass", and tree in background (on cream-colored part)
Paper: Fabriano card (see photo of box below)
Ephemera: little cardboard Scrabble tiles, individually cut out with little scissors and adhered with Diamond Glaze


(2)
Stamps: Zettiology - tree branch with bird; Impress - happy birthday
Inks: Versamagic - Jumbo Java, Red Brick, Aegean Blue (applied to stamp with Stampin' Up blender pen)
Paper: Fabriano card

As an aside, I heart Fabriano cards. But they are so expensive, it's ridiculous. Paper shouldn't be that expensive. Talk about some bitches.


In the third and final installment of "...the Groove", I shall regale you with the story of NWAI's and my car ride to and from B-SNAK's house. It'll kinda be like a buddy/road picture, only shorter. And without the moving pictures part. But, I assure you, there'll be just as much cursing and sass!

("Cursing and Sass" appears courtesy of Cursing and Sass, attorneys-at-law, specializing in personal injury and intellectual property.)

Coaster photo parade

I don't want to gloat about the success of the do-overs. No, no. Please. Dr. B. doesn't like to gloat. These photos are primarily so that my PIC can see the final, final result of my latest coaster project/my birthday gift for B-SNAK (aka, The Coaster Debacle of '07).

Sidebar: Consider yourselves lucky I've deviated from the original plan for my blog wherein every entry would fall into one of three categories: (1) Hey, PIC, check out what I made! (2) Hey, PIC, you have to go to this awesome website! or (3) Hey, PIC, your job is really hard! And my hair looks really curly today for some reason.

So, this post would be a Category 1. But, you can all look. It's not for my PIC's eyes only. Apologies in advance for the crappy lighting.



Twelve coasters in all -- half of them quilted, half of them not -- and I tried to make the quilting design different on each one. I didn't do the free-motion thing that I'd toyed with. When I do try that technique in earnest, that project is sure to have "Not Gift Quality" written all over it.



Oh, if you're interested, here's an overhead shot before sewing:


So hey, PIC! Your job is really hard. And, you know what? My hair is actually pretty straight right now, but my part is kinda too far over to the right so it looks weird. But who cares? It's the middle of the night, and who's lookin'? Right?

Carry on.

What do you think it means

...when you're sleepy in your dreams? I had a dream this morning that I'd called B-SNAK and was leaving her a message, and I was so sleepy I was confused about who I was talking to and said, "Ok, baby, I love you. I'll talk to you soon. (sort of catching my error) I mean, I hope you have fun on your trip." And then I hung up and fell asleep. (Please invoke David Caruso voice for the following reiteration:) Fell asleep. In my dream.

...when Blogger is thwarting every effort to post my delicious photos? Are they too delicious?

...when it's perfectly lovely and warm outside, but -- despite having the heat on -- it's freezing inside? Freezing!

Hmmm... taken individually, each one of those kind of makes you go, "Aw." But together? I tell you what. You see that lady coming? You walk the other way. Don't even pretend you don't.

You used to be bi!

That's all she said to me, and I knew instantly what she meant.

I was hanging out with the WWNSMW (aka B-SNAK) last weekend, and at some point in the evening she looked at me with a twinkle in her eye and blurted out, "You used to be bi! I read your blog all the time, and it's always 'knitting this' and 'sewing that' and I don't even know what else because I don't understand ANY OF IT! WHERE'S THE STAMPING?!"

Did I ever mention I have a giant collection of rubber stamps? Oh. I think I did, once in passing.

Yes, well, B-SNAK and I have a long-standing relationship with stamping that I think you should know about. So: The Story of B-SNAK and the Stamps. (This will also be the title of the blockbuster sequel to Akeelah and the Bee that I'm gonna write. Betcha! I'm gonna do it next. Right after this.)

Taking it back to 1998 {oodly oodly oodly oodly}:

She's having a little get-together, she says. Do I want to come? I won't have to buy anything, but it could be fun if I like rubber stamping. I think to myself, "I do like rubber stamping! I have a stamp of some old-timey shoes, and a bowler hat, and a pocket watch. I could take those with me! And I won't have to buy anything!"

I won't have to buy anything, the first one's free, and trail mix is good for me.

These are ways of thinking that are so, so dangerous. Case in point (and I think this is important): the Trader Joe's Salty, Sweet & Nutty Trek Mix. "It's healthy! It's a Trek Mix! It's got nuts!" Sure. Nutty! Ok. What they mean by "Nutty" is "Peanut Brittle". The nuts are, in some good proportion, housed in rocks and rocks of sugary brittle. (It should tell you something when its form is rock. Nothing good ever comes in the form of rock, in my humble opinion. Not music, not cocaine, not an oversized diamond that makes everyone at least a little uncomfortable -- if not downright small -- when near it.)

Point is: I shoulda known.

I'll never forget the moment that that Stampin' Up demonstrator stamped a teddy bear onto some cardstock, stuck it onto another piece of cardstock, folded it up, and... "OOOOOH!" We were floored that she'd made a greeting card - just like that! "We're gonna save hundreds and hundreds of dollars never having to buy a birthday card again!" "This is the greatest thing we've ever seen!" "How can I do this too?!" Suckers, all.

Present day: Between me, B-SNAK, and another couple of very good friends with very serious problems, we have thousands of stamps. Thousands. That would be bad enough. But, what's worse are the Inks. Papers. Stickers. Postage stamps. Tags. Collage sheets. Brads. Scissors. Eyelets. Markers. Pencils. Watercolor pencils. Adhesives. Ribbons. Rub-ons. Sponges. I could go on. I really could.

I used to be bi. She's right. Now? I'm a polygamous crafter. Straight up. My stamping may've taken a back seat to knitting and quilting, but it'll be making a comeback here pretty soon. You'll see.

I did have to buy some stuff, some of it was free, and for the most part it's all been quite good for me. Being a polygamous crafter may stretch you thin. But that mutherfuckin' Trek Mix? Now, that shit'll kill you.

P.S. and FYI

P.S. I left a very important piece of information out of my post about wanting a craft room. I left it out because I thought, "Why include The Woman Who Never Steers Me Wrong in a rant about Pottery Barn, when I could just give her her propers the right way?"

So. To follow: propers the right way.

What would you say the chances are that you know an incredibly exceptional person? High? Not so high? Ok, well, what are the chances you know an incredibly exceptional person who has, in addition to being exceptional, also created the most incredible craft room you've ever seen? Well, I'd say the chances are quite small. That's what I'd say. So, what if I told you that the Woman Who Never Steers Me Wrong (Except For The One Time With The Knitting, But She's Not A Knitter) is that person. Seriously.

Exceptional person + creator and owner of one kick-ass craft room = the WWNSMW (EFTOTWTKBSNAK).

I realize I don't know you and/or exactly what you've seen in your life, but I'm here to tell you her room is at the tippy top of the best you'll ever see. If you like your crafts organized, woo-howdy, you will really like what she's up to.

(I'm realizing now that if I can convince her to let me take and post pictures of this room, I haven't really done the best Expectation Management here on the front end. I kind of accidently sold the shit out of it, huh?)

But her room has shelves! And systems! And dowels! And bobbins! And...oh jeez, I think I'm getting faint. Maybe she'll just let me show you. If she does, it'll be kinda like naughty pictures for nerds. Or geeks. Or people who just like their things to look real nice. Won't that be awesome?

FYI: Here's what I just realized that's hilarious. When you turn "But She's Not A Knitter" into an acronym, you get "B-SNAK." Ha HA! Guess what, ali b? You just got yourself a nickname! Well, a better nickname. One that can actually roll off the tongue (the WWNSMW? You don't even really try to say that, right?).

All hail, B-SNAK and her glorious, glorious craft room!

P.P.S. Take that, Pottery Barn.

Huh. That's funny. On mine, it said failure was an option.

So, I'd had this Manos del Uruguay yarn for forever and a day. When I bought it, I really loved it. I loved it.

I remember I loved it on its own, but I also liked it mixed with this light brown mohair that I had in my stash from God-knows-where. "You know what?" I says to myself I says (because I think this is where the Seeds of Failure were planted, and everyone knows the Seeds of Failure are nothing if not horrible with grammar), "I'm gonna just go ahead and ball these two up together so it's not all cumbersome when the right project comes along!" And so I balled up the Manos and the mohair, and I put the ball in my stash. (I can't be the first to say this, but that last sentence really sounds dirty all of a sudden). I had another hank of the Manos that I didn't mix, and I thought that was nice too.

So, time passes, as it does. I'd look at that ball of Manos and mohair in my stash (Again. Sounds kinda dirty, right?!). "Nice!" I'd think. Every now and then I'd pull it out and start something. And every time -- I was surprised to find -- it just looked bad. So I'd pull it out. Ball it up. Put it back in my stash. (Whore!)

Then I thought that a nice drop-stitch scarf would work well for it because it would show off the many colors of the Manos, and it would be soft and fuzzy with that mohair. And so I cast on, and within a few rows, it became evident that it was macrame. Seriously. Macrame from the 70's, ready for an airplane plant or a fern to go right into it. Macrame.

I called my partner-in-crime.

ME: It's macrame.
P-I-C: No. It can't be. It's that beautiful Manos.
ME: I swear to God. It's macrame.
P-I-C: I don't believe you.

I took a picture of it with my phone and sent it to her.

P-I-C: It looks fine. Just keep going.

Now, my partner-in-crime's voice got quite high as she said it looked fine. Like: "It looks FINE!" I didn't believe her, but I wanted to believe her. So I forged ahead.


It did look better as it got longer, and I started liking it the further along I went. And then it became clear that (and I know you saw this coming) I wasn't going to have enough of the Manos/mohair combo for the scarf to be a decent length, and I had balled up all I had of the mohair. But, I wasn't deterred. (Probably because I was getting a second-hand high from the now-blossoming Fern of Failure sprouting up all around me.) Remember that other hank? The one that hadn't been mixed? I was confident I'd just go get some mohair, mix it with that hank, and proceed.

Why am I even going on with this story? Why am I putting myself and more importantly YOU through this? You know how it turns out. You know what hubris will do to a person. You know I never shoulda balled on the front end (Ha HAH! I love it! SO DIRTY!).

Well, just so you know what happened... There was no light brown mohair and nothing even remotely fuzzy enough at my local yarn store. I substituted a darker mohair that I figured I could double up to yield the appropriate amount of fluff. This resulted in a very dark and very not-fluffy yarn combo.


The Woman Who Never Steers Me Wrong had a great idea, I thought. "Could you just make both ends of the scarf with the dark combo? It'll look intentional." WWNSMW isn't a knitter, but, as with my P-I-C before, I wanted to believe that her idea would work. And WWNSMW really has NEVER steered me wrong. So I tried.

In the photo below, there is not a lighting issue. It's a pretty accurate photo of the scarf with one of its "dark ends". Indeed.

Ugg.

You know what? Let's not discuss this any further. It just shames us all.

I guess all's I'm sayin' is (Failure!), go with your instincts. No. Wait. Don't pre-ball. Ummm. Er. Sometimes things don't turn out the way you planned?

Muh. I got nothin'.

Fresh-cut Failure, anyone?