Tag Archives: summer camp

I’m a professional noncrafter

12 Aug

Before I begin, a little shout out to my regular readers (you know, all 15 of you): thank you for tuning in! It’s easy to blog away being pretty certain only my fiance and my mom are reading this (except I don’t even think my mom reads this; blog-a-what?)

And I started this as a regular writing exercise with little or no expectations for it to be more than that. Then maybe two weeks ago, unsolicited, a former high school classmate wrote me a message on Facebook to tell me how much she enjoys reading my blog, noting that I still have the same sense of humor as I always did. And I think she’s smart and funny, so this gave me hope. And then last night one of my (almost former) colleagues told me she loves my blog, citing enough specifics that I believed her. When she mentioned my bit about shredding memories she had an “I felt that” expression on her face and this made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

After all, it’s a writing exercise I HOPE resonates with people. Or makes them chuckle, snicker, sigh, eyebrow raise, lean back in shock, or any reaction other than yawning. Unless it’s 6:00 am and you haven’t had coffee (but OMG, you’re reading my blog at 6:00 am? I love you while I’m still sleeping).

So, comment, yo! Maybe my ego could use it because I have another friend who’s especially good at blogging and being hilarious and I envy her. Lots. And I will copy her as much as possible. Just kidding (not really).

Now back to the title I’ve been teasing you with. I’m getting married in (gasp) 10 days, so I’m no stranger to wedding blogs and weddings sites. Most of them are ridiculous and are targeted at (as my friend aptly observed) high maintenance people. So I tried to go for the more organic ones for normal people. I found myself at DIY Bride, thinking I’d get some cool ideas; instead a got another dose of crafting insecurity. Khris Cochran (the self-proclaimed DIY Bride herself) started today’s entry (which was a review of the Glue Glider Pro) with “As a professional crafter, I…”

(Record screeches).

Did you just say professional crafter?  Let me explain.

I’m a mover (and a shaker).

I do things.

Sometimes I avoid doing things.

I am things.

Sometimes I even create things.

But I do not make things.

I repeat, Kara doesn’t make things! (When I say this I’m using the intonation of Joey from Friends when he says “Joey doesn’t share food!” You’ve seen that episode, unless you never watch TV because you are reading instead. Or amateur crafting.

Arts and crafts time at summer camp was the longest hour and a half 8-10-yr old me could imagine. Each minute felt like 10, each hour 100.  The days we weren’t making macrame anklets or candles (okay, I kind of enjoyed that), we got to go swimming. So while I was trapped in that screen porch-style room for 90 minutes making God’s eyes or keepsake lanterns, I daydreamed about the lake: frolicking on the beach, cannonball contests, and sinking the dock (where everyone stands on one corner of the floating dock and um, tries to sink it).

I loved swimming.

I hated crafts.

Attention crafters: I do not hate you. In fact, I’m in awe of you (and always feeling inferior to you). Like most people, I hate stuff I’m really bad at. Math, gardening, painting, crafting.

Some of you might know about the gardening craft party I was once invited to: talk about insecurity! I was sitting next to my artistic, craftastic, gardenista friend (also a bridesmaid) who is hand-painting an intricately-limbed tree onto a tiny pot while I’m using stamps.  And I couldn’t even do that! I told everyone my niece and nephew made the pot for me, but then I realized even they would not claim my smudged octopus and smeared seaweed.  I faired better in the gardening portion because I am good at following directions (when I’m paying attention and not cracking jokes to fight off my anxiety over failing at both themes of the party). Luckily my friends laugh at my jokes, so I had fun at the party.

I think the swimming/crafting debate perfectly summarizes me as a person. Crafting requires a great deal of patience and fine motor skills. A patience I have only for words and people, and the kind of fine motor skills I have only for…opening a bottle of wine? I’m drawing a blank, here. See?

This is a good time to point out that I failed the fine motor skill portion of  the ‘are-you-ready-for-kindergarten-at-age-4′ test. I blew it with block building. I could read but I couldn’t craft to save my life. Even at age 4, the experts knew I was doomed.

So I went to private kindergarten at age 4, made some terrible art projects throughout my childhood, and then arrived at the sewing portion of middle school home economics. Humiliation ensued. While I wasn’t looking my parents threw away my “basketball,” because really, no one needs to see that.

But I’ve made peace with my craft deficiency.

To this day, I still dive into the pool, lake, ocean (well maybe not ocean). I almost never do the “ease in, not going to get my hair wet” method. It’s just not me.

If I was a t-shirt I would say:

“Life is short: Jump in!”

This explains why I’m moving to SoFlo to meet new people and have a new life. Oh and marry someone who is very into arts and crafts. Comes from a family of crafters, in fact. He made his own beehive equipment. In high school, he made his dates’ corsages for dances. No, really, he was that cuter-than-cute guy. And I get to marry him!

I told him my sister became extremely crafty upon having her children and he said “maybe you’ll do the same!”

I wish I could be as crafty as my sister. Or his sister. Or his mom. Or anyone who is not me.

Alas, I am the antithesis of the DIY Bride: Professional noncrafter, that’s me.

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