First up of my Guest Biatches is the lovely Loralee from Loralees Looney Tunes. We found each other only recently (but in internet time I guess that means we have been BFF 4 EVA, or some shit) when we both starred in a hate blog. It was awesome. My girl is going through her own shit right now, but still jumped at the chance to help me out. How could you not ADORE someone like that? Seriously. She is fabulous.
Anyway, give a big MWAH, tons of loving comments and clickity click to Loralee.
I live in The States.
More specifically, I live in the State of Utah.
Utah is the land of many things: Jello, weddings, big families, food storage, skiing, Mormons, The Sundance Film Festival and crafts. Lots and lots of crafts.
I mentioned that Utah has some big families in it, right? Mine is no exception. I am the youngest of six children. We have a two computer management geniuses and a CPA amongst our bunch. Then there is the tole-painter and queen of all things ‘craft’ and the two opera singers.
(I am not the CPA, for that one person in the back corner who is actually wondering.)
Diverse little group, aren’t we?
My older sister is very craft savvy. She is an amazing painter, scrapbooker, embosser, maker of rag rugs and quilts and is pretty much the epitome of ‘Awesome Mormon Crafter”. She has dragged/cajoled/FORCED me to participate in more of these craft projects over the years than I care to remember.
One time period was exceptionally memorable.
There have been two times in my life where I wasn’t really sure I would survive what I was facing. When things were so horrible and blown to hell that I literally did not leave my bed except to pee.
Like, for months.
Once was after a breakup with the man I thought I was going to marry. I was so devastated and my life was broken so badly that I literally stayed in my bed for months.
My sister (who is like a mother to me) knew how bad it was and so she came out to visit for the summer. I’d be laying there in the dark crying day after endless day and chicka would be annoying as hell and BRING THE CRAFTS TO ME.
“COME ON, Loralee! Let’s emboss some Thank You cards!!!!!!!!”
And then she would break into some annoying as hell Pollyanna glad song like The Brigham Young University fight song. Have you ever heard the Brigham Young University fight song?
“Rise and shout! The cougars are out!”
It’s how my mother woke me up every damn day of my life.
And y’all wonder how I turned out this way.
I would mumble and tell her to go the hell away and that she could shove her embosser where the sun didn’t shine, but she would just sit and crochet, emboss, punch bits of paper, paint until I would halfheartedly sit up in bed and make some creation that looked like a seven-year-old slapped together while munching on some ’shrooms.
The crafts sucked, but somehow my sister knew that doing something, ANYTHING was better than laying in the fetal position until I wasted away to nothing. Somehow I pulled it together enough to go back to school and try to piece my life together the best I could.
I realize that this has far more to do with my relationship with my sister than crafts, but she did use them to reach me when I was in a REALLY shitty place and besides, wouldn’t you all rather have me work in this information into some fluffy post about crafts rather than read some really long, depressing post?
Back to my talented sister.
While I sucked at everything I touched, my sister is GREAT at it.
Even my opera singing twin sister is amazing at all that shit.
Um…I just sing.
I often say that I am anti-craft. Mainly that is because I am fairly tactile-challenged and therefore…bitter.
It is much better to turn your nose up at something and shun them than admit that you cried like a baby at church craft night because you were the only girl that went home with a mirror that had “I LIKE TO SIN !” etched on the glass because you screwed up with the etching solution and the “G” failed to imprint on the end of “Sing”.
It kinda went down hill from there, y’all.
I tried knitting and managed to make a scarf that was about 2 inches wide.
I tried crocheting with grand plans to make a snuggley blanket for my boyfriend and ended up with bags of yarn that I finally threw out three years into my marriage.
I tried scrapbooking a baby book for my son Matthew to make my sister happy and managed to create four pages. (In my defense, he died before I could do more, but really…I am just not a scrapbooker. Although, I COULD hang out in scrapbook stores forever oggling the paper and cool metal thingies and stamps n’ stuff.)
So, you could say that the average “Craft” project just isn’t for me.
I have turned to less…traditional craft projects over the years.
“Wilbur’s Scarlett Letter collar” (Dude. My cat is totally slutty. The little ho rapes anything that she thinks is attractive. Or just laying there. Like my carpet. It is completely fitting that she have a Scarlett Letter “A” collar.)
“The Best in Show sippee cup” (One of the best movies of all time)
“The 2005 holiday gingerbread bed of depression”
Remember that other time I couldn’t get out of bed that I mentioned? Yeah, this was it. The death of my son combined with devastating situations (both my fault and not my fault) brought me to my knees for a very long period of time. We went to my sister’s house to make gingerbread houses and try as I might, I could not assemble a gingerbread house. Somehow, this just…evolved and made everyone laugh. It actually made one night during all that hell enjoyable.
I am fond of my odd craft projects. They’re just fun think up and execute. I’m sure that I will continue to try “Traditional crafting” from time to time. For one thing, I am still related to my sisters and I am sure that at some point they will con me into SOMETHING down the road.
I am also sure that I will most likely bitch and moan about it every step of the way.