Unexplored Territory

Monday, May 14, 2007

No wonder the roads are all messed up

When we were at Creating Keepsakes University, we were appalled by the state of the roads in Dearborn, MI. If you are at all familiar with the road system in Detroit, you understand what I mean.

When we first arrived on that Wednesday night, we did one of those European Vacation things ... driving around in a large circle around the hotel. Look kids, Big Ben... Parliament. Look kids, its the Hyatt .... now HOW do we get over there?

And the Michigan left hander. Whatever. Seriously. Now I see why Michigan drivers have such a bad reputation as being extremely fast drivers when they get into Ohio. You know why? Because ... the roads make sense.

So this morning, my local AM station played a blurb of a 911 call from a Dearborn police officer. Heard about this?

Apparently, the Dearborn police department let this officer resign without being charged of a drug crime when he called 911 and told the operator this:

"I think we're dying," he said in the 5-minute tape, obtained under the Michigan Freedom of Information Act. "We made brownies and I think we're dead, I really do," Sanchez continued. He told the dispatcher he had never made marijuana brownies before, but had previously used marijuana.

I think I can understand the road systems better now...

Labels: CKU

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Stamping ... the next contact sport

Duel to the death. That was what I felt like between two women who were flexing their stamping muscles during my final class on Saturday at CKU.

This is how it went down...

I chose a seat in the middle of the table because I didn't want people hitting me with their belongings as they tried to get past me. I wanted to be that person.

A woman sat down on my right who was with her friend. Another woman sat down on my left who was with noone but herself.

We had a bag of stamps. I am just not a stamp person. There are too many. Too many overwhelming choices out there. I don't collect them just to have them. That would be my mother. If I wanted something, she would probably have it. I just don't make cards. I don't use stamps, unless they are alpha stamps, in my scrapbooking.

We also had a few different colors of stamps. Nothing overwhelming ... just what was needed to finish the four cards we were charged with making.

Then the sh** hit the fan. We had to become As or Bs. Three of us in a row were Bs because of how things worked out. I found the acrylic stamp. No problem. The watercolor crayons were beckoning to the woman on my right.

Can you please pass the crayons (to the woman on my left).
Well, I will be using them.
Well, you aren't using them now. Could you please pass them down?
Once I am finished with them, I will.
Hmmmmph.
Are you talking about these (placing hand on pots)?
NO. THOSE aren't the crayons. THOSE are paint pots. THOSE are the crayons (pointing to the very obvious tin of Stampin' Up crayons).
Oh. Sure. You can have these (passes the tin over).

About three minutes pass by, and the crayons are shared nicely. I get my card finished and just sit there. We were to then move on to the other card that the As were working on. Embossing. Using a heat gun. I KNOW how to do this. I have done this numerous times during my short-lived stamping life. I didn't want to because I just didn't want to do the card. It was ugly and I didn't have any use for it. So I sat there.

Increduously, the lady on my left asks me if I am going to complete the card, and is amazed when I tell her no. Whatever. I was more relaxed than those maniacs were.

Then the butterfly stamp debacle started.

SOMEone placed the WRONG lid on the brown stamp pad. The lid said it was denim blue. It ended up being brown. But this wasn't figured out until the left lady had already stamped her butterfly.

OH NO! THIS isn't the right color!!!! This is BROWN! This is supposed to be BLUE!

She immediately turns around and starts asking people behind us what their stamp pad colors were until she finally found the denim blue.

I said "just pass me the purple ... I'll have a purple butterfly."

Left lady thought that purple was an acceptable replacement, but still wanted that blue, so she turned her cardstock over and stamped again. Fine.

Right lady was amazed at my tag hole punch. It is a little rectangle hole punch that I bought at a Stampin' Up party.

Is this yours or theirs?
Mine.
May I use it?
Knock yourself out.
Oh. I like this. Where did you get this?
A Stampin' Up party.
Really? I can't find a reliable Stampin' Up representative. And then she proceeds to give me three minutes worth of how unreliable they are, and maybe she will just order from my rep. I wouldn't WISH this woman on my rep.

Five minutes later. ....
May I use your hole punch again? I think it would be perfect for this.
Yes you may.
Where did you say you got this again?
(rolling eyes) Stampin' Up.
Oh ... I just think this is perfect.
Ok ... gotcha. You are having a love affair with my hole punch. I understand. Really, I do. I had a love affair with Tim Holtz's scissors ... so have at it.

The class wound down. I was on edge because everyone was SO intense around me. They HAD to get EVERYthing done in a short amount of time, and I had had three two many classes like this today so I was fried.

Left lady had asked me to pass her something, so I did. She then exclaimed that I was the most laid-back, easy-going individual she had ever met. I didn't know whether I should have taken that as a compliment or a dig. I decided not to analyze it, and I started to leave.

Right lady asked me to take a picture of she and her friend. I said sure. I took the camera, but didn't bother to put my glasses on. I snapped the pic, and from what I could see in my farsightedness, the pic looked fine.

It didn't to her. And she let me know.

Oh ... this is TERRIBLE. Take another one. No please, no thank you, no manners whatsoever.

So I looked at her straight in the face and said...

No. I won't take another picture. You will need to find someone else whose patience you haven't worn thin.

Labels: CKU

Monday, April 23, 2007

Fiends and Friends

There are people you can count on to be your friend through thick and thin.

There are also people you can count on to be fiends about something.

My life was filled with both this past weekend, and it was all a wonderful experience.

The fiend part: I know that there are people out there who are PASSIONATE about their craft. I could fall into this category with knitting, I suppose. Would I scream and go crazy over seeing Debbie Stoller? I don't think I would. I probably wouldn't know what she looked like. Vickie Howell, now that might be a different story because she is just too darn cute.

There is this woman ... this woman named Ali. Ali Edwards, to be exact. If you are a scrapper, you know who she is. You either like her style or you don't. She is all about simple things, and finding the beauty in those simple things.

This is where my friend Robin fits in. Robin LOVES Ali. Loves her. Robin considers herself a stalker of Ali. She will be the first to admit it. She is so darn cute about it ... she will be calm on the outside, but I know that she is squirming on the inside when there is an Ali sighting. And Ali knows Robin. She knows Robin because Robin is a very memorable person. Ali also knows Julie because ... well ... if you can't remember Julie, then there's something wrong with you!

So when the two worlds converged on Friday night ... when Ali was actually SITTING at our table, yukking it up with us, my dear friend Robin was probably wanting to jump out of her skin. But she contained herself.

Does this make Robin a fiend about something? I would more than likely lump her in the "fan" not fiend category. This woman has a following, and I don't think I ever appreciated how much of a following she has. Before I met Ali, I would have called Robin a fiend. Now I call Robin a fan of Ali ... one who CAN contain herself even though it is hard to do so.

Now, the Tim Holtz contingency. Man. I can see where that one comes from. He's a cutie, and so funny. And these women in his class ... they practically fall out of their seats to get his attention. They start lining up for his class 30 minutes ahead of time, just to sit in the front row. Ok. Ok. I was in the second row. I admit it. And I told him that I was having a love affair with his scissors. But still ... would I consider myself a self-proclaimed fiend? No.

There were many fiends out there this weekend, and I am just glad that I was labeled a calm, easy-going individual. Probably too much so. But I really don't see why people get their panties in a bind over stamping.

See? We all have our poisons. How we choose them is personal. And the choice is a lot of fun in the making.

Labels: CKU, friends

Sunday, April 22, 2007

Home!

Update and some pics tomorrow. Too tired right now to think straight, and waiting for the fam to return from their little vacay without Mom.

However, I have determined that I am not the uptight, fanatical beyotch I previously thought I was. Those people were at CKU. I was the relaxed, laid-back, easy-going (a stranger's words, not mine) person there. Well, me and the group I was with. The rest of them... freaks. Ok. Not ALL of them. But it was an intense weekend, and stories will commence tomorrow.

Labels: CKU

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

DEtroit ... Here We Come!

Unless Robin and I can hunt down a computer at the hotel (I am sure we will be able to), this will be it until Sunday when we return.

Soak it in, people.

My words ... my thoughts ... my humor.... my ego.

Have a good one! Catch ya on the flip!

Labels: CKU

I'm a mom of three peeps ... Queen Bee, The Door Man, and the Chandelier Monkey, and wife to Ace, the Helpful Hardware Man. I created this space to get away from the people known as my inlaws, and because life with three kids and a hubby is all Unexplored Territory.

The nine-year-old who seems to be growing older every minute, has an opinion and a comment for everything, and has a true servant's heart.

The seven-year-old who loves the organization of things, will someday be someone's therapist because of his kind soul, and will more than likely be living with us until he is 40 years old.

The five-year-old with the 13-year-old attitude, who has a dictator's personality, asks you to watch her all the time and say "hold on" to keep your attention, and will someday come home on the back of some dude's motorcycle with 10 tatts and a body piercing or two.

The man of the house, the fixer of things, the winner of prizes, and the only person in his family to escape the South.