Confessions of a Crafty Chassy

Hi. My name is Cat and I am a crafting addict. A crafting addict with total ADHD. And impulse control issues when confronted with awesome fabrics that are totally on sale.

Hi, Cat!

Yes. I admit it has been a severe blow to my self-esteem to realize that I need HELP, y’all. I thought I had all of my projects under control. One can never juggle too many projects at once! Seriously! There’s absolutely nothing wrong with keeping busy, is all I’m saying! It’s GOOD to be productive! Right? Am I right?! RIGHT?!

Right?

In my defense, I don’t have a craft room or any place awesome like that where I can escape and just sew and knit and paint and Mod Podge like nobody’s business. Nope. So when I drag my old sewing machine out of its hiding spot in the cupboard, dust it off, and lug it to the craft table I only just broke out of storage, well, I’m going to get some things DONE, by golly! CRAFTY things! Because remembering how to thread the machine correctly so the thread doesn’t jam the needle up, and how to properly fill bobbins and whatnot is no picnic when you have accidentally totally misplaced your sewing machine manual and your machine is, like, fifteen years old and you can’t find the manual online– except for the one that might be the right one but they want you to PAY for it, which what the WHAT (?!) and no THANK you, because it’s the whole principle of the thing.

Just saying.

Honestly. I thought I could handle the knitted Christmas stockings, the Dot quilt, the Window Box quilt, the quilted Christmas stockings, the button monogram on canvas, the knitted Sweetheart socks, the Mod-Podged wooden “L”… AND the felt Advent Calendar!

*sigh*

I need help.

Making Lemonade

One perk of an EARLY morning commute? Check out that Harvest Moon. Right?! RIGHT?! HA! Woo! Take THAT, late sleepers! YEAH!

*end of glass half-full moment*

Forgetful Wednesday Lunch Fiasco

DUDE. I very much hate when TGIM “forgets” to return my debit card and I “forget” I don’t have it and subsequently “forget” to pack lunch because what I DO remember is that Au Bon Pain has super delicious chicken pot pie soup, and I “forget” that I already used my super secret emergency stash that time I NEEDED M&Ms and I end up forced to forage for food like a hungry animal of some sort. Perhaps a cute little bunny rabbit. Or a deer. I don’t know. Whichever forages best, that’s the one I’m like.

Except I’m foraging for spare change rather than carrots or shrubs. I mean, clearly. If I wanted to eat vegetation, I would have “remembered” to pack a salad! You know what I’m saying?! Am I right?! Am I? AM I RIGHT?!

Yep. Forgetting is no fun at all.

Mind Your Business

I’m going to take a stand here and now, and say that I will never (not ever!) understand those people who grunt and/or groan things like “OH boy” and “Oooo-ee!” while using the facilities. Why?! Why would they do that?! I don’t understand! Does it enhance performance? Or are they expecting some sort of congratulations, perhaps? Because I don’t know of any situation in which another person would be all like, “Oh, that must have been a good one!” or “Way to BM like a rock star!” Unless, to be fair, that other person happened to be the person’s mother, as moms totally inadvertently say embarrassing stuff like that all the time because they forget that everyone else in the restroom doesn’t KNOW they are a mom and, you know, just being all encouraging and weird. But whatever. I don’t know! That’s all I’m saying. What I DO know, however, is that these outbursts are all kinds of awkward for everyone else in the vicinity. Also, so so gross.

Not to even mention that sometimes, so surprised am I by the sudden, primal outburst or the sheer violence of expression that I unintentionally snort or giggle, and hey, I just do NOT appreciate being forced into behaving in such a juvenile manner. I’m only saying. So cut that crap out! Hee. I said “crap.” (See?! With the juvenile behavior?!) Just think of others before you go all Serena Williams while doing your business, okay?! GOSH.

Oh, to be clear, I am only referring to these types of outbursts in PUBLIC restrooms. What you grunt/groan while doing your business at home is totally, well… your business. Go crazy. Get down with your primal grunting self! Oh, except if you have house guests, obviously, in which case I would advise strongly against this type of behavior. Unless it is actually your intention to make said house guests SUPER uncomfortable. Then… ch-check! Mission accomplished! So you may want to rein it in– just a scoche!– when there’s company over. But otherwise, knock yourself out.

In other news, I am often peculiar and judgmental.

Open Letter to Metro Express Germ Guy

Hey, you there with the hacking cough. Guess what? Go on! GUESS! A newspaper is not a tissue, that’s what! Thus, your Express newspaper is spectacularly ineffective as a barrier for germs between your gross, snuffly, coughing self and me. And pretty much everyone else on the crowded Metro subway, of course, but mostly, this is about me. Your extreme grossness and how it affects me, specifically. Oh, and BTW? Said newspaper is especially ineffective when it is held several inches from your mouth as you cough. Does the word “duh” mean anything to you?! I mean, honestly. You aren’t fooling anyone with your lame, half-hearted attempt to deflect your germs from the grossed-out masses, buddy. Use a tissue! Or your elbow! A disposable face mask, even! I swear to God, if I get sick I will hunt you down and freaking kick you! Right in the shins! I am so serious. I will KICK YOU. Don’t think I won’t. Because I totally will. I’ll be all, “Kiai!” And then there will be a whole lot of shin pain going on. Truth.

In other news, your toupee looks as if it is trying to make a run for it. Let it go, man. Just… let it go.

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