Geisha School Dropout

Finding my Inner Crafter

Emi's teacher asked each family to create a Snow Friend to contribute to the classroom's winter decorations.  Instructions and expectations were frighteningly open-ended for this software programmer:

You can make it with bottles, cans, paper, white trash bags filled with cut up newspaper, paper plates (remember to make a stand of some sort please, boxes, anything. (The only exception is the use of food products…….bugs, etc) You can use paper, felt, wiggle eyes, pom poms, yarn, jewelry, bows, ties, ANY accessory. Have fun, do it together, make sure your child really gets involved.

My eyes crossed at the supply list.  So, basically we need to create something out of anything and everything on the planet?  I need a real specifications document!  Who signed off on this thing?

So, panic-ridden, I actually dreamed about this Snow Friend for days before making my first foray to the craft store.  One night, I imagined a Snow Friend made not out of snow, but balls of yarn, so I googled "Yarn Ball Snowman" and found "Happy Homemaker Me," a crafty genius mama who does every domestic thing I do not.  However, I swear she has an engineer's mind, because her post detailing her yarn ball snowman project was so well-organized and intuitive, she made a crafter out of me.

Top three lessons learned from this:

1. Michael's is more effective than Target in separating me from my money.  All I wanted to do was buy some styrofoam balls and some yarn, but I came out with over $50 worth of sewing supplies, ornaments, cardmaking materials, a dark chocolate Snickers bar, and a dozen wild ideas about how I'm going to quit my job and start scrapbooking, wreath-making, and quilting.  HALP ME.

2. Apparently, if I was a smart consumer, I would have saved 50% with one of Michael's myriad of coupons.  Ugh, forgive me Father, for I hath paid retail price.

3. All hail the mighty hot glue gun!   A really good adhesive can change worlds!  Seriously, somewhere between the trigger and the nozzle lies the secret to world peace, plus the searing pain you feel when you accidentally get some on your fingers satisfies my periodic yen for S&M.  Hurts so good, baby!

And here are the results of about 4 hours of labor:

Hat sewn by yours truly; arms courtesy of our recently-pruned pomegranate tree; eyes made from fireplace remnants; embellishments, gift boxes, and buttons curated by Emi.  Just look at the smile on her face!  I'm hooked.

Questions from the Audience #4

Erin asks: If you had a day to do whatever (and whoever) you wanted without consequences, barring any obstacles or even physics or the laws of time and space, what would you do?

 Two words, my friend: SMITHS REUNION.

Morrissey and Marr: I can make them get back together, I know it!

After that, I would definitely take the day off, send the kids to school, and bend space-time to accomodate a lot of hedonism and world travel.  I'd flag down The Doctor (not the current one, but David Tennant, ohoho yes) and make him take me all over the universe in a blue Police Box.  I'd definitely visit my friends strewn across our little blue planet and invite them to join us.

Mmmmm...lovely

The day would culminate in a Last Supper-themed feast/rave/orgy/photo shoot styled by David LaChappelle where Morrissey is Jesus, I am the Virgin Mary, and the apostles are my favorite drag queens and members of the Stone Roses.  Lady Gaga will be Magdalene, washing everyone's feet with her mouth.  There would be  real flying cherubim and the spread would be epic: Moroccan, Ethiopian, Korean, Indian, Greek, Mexican, and those are just the models, dahling!  The food would be even more delicious.  Vomitorium would be off to the right, of course.

Because of the time travel aspect, I have to assume this already happened because LaChappelle has already captured it:

Say it in your best Oprah voice: a-MAAAAAAYYY-zing!

If you are confident, they will say you are arrogant.

If you are deliberate, they will say you are too sure of yourself.

If you have a sense of purpose, they will say you are self-absorbed.

If you know who you are, they will ask, “Who are you, anyway?”

If you believe in kindness and compassion, they will say you are naïve.

If you are a dreamer, they will say “join the real world.”

If you are a rebel, they will try to shut you down.

The instructions include:

rein it in
slow it down
wait it out

pull it back
take your time
play it safe

But you will know:

They are envious because they want what you have.

They are afraid of change even as they crave it.

They are projecting their own regret into resentment of you.

It’s not all bad news: some of them will sort themselves out and end up joining you. Because you are a good person and have had plenty of false starts of your own, you’ll understand and welcome them warmly. We’ve missed you! you’ll say. It’s about time you made it.

As for the others, well, you will remember what Gandhi said:

“First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win.”

------"Who You Are and What They Say," from the blog The Art of Non-Conformity

To all the Freudians in the Audience

My dream life is generally pretty boring and unimaginative, with lots of reruns.  Last night, however, I had a unique, interesting dream, and I really wonder what it all meant.

I am walking alone at night through some kind of downtown arts district.  I enter a coffee house and sit in a cozy velvet armchair with a bowl full of latte in my lap.  A young man who kinda looks like Draco Malfoy from the "Harry Potter" movies approaches, sits on the arm of my chair, kisses the top of my hand, strikes up a conversation.  It becomes obvious that he has romantic intent and asks to take me on a walk, and I rise to take his arm.  I am vaguely aware that this is a betrayal to Tim, but I don't feel guilty; rather I feel a bit giddy and dream-like as we walk into the night.

When we are outside, it becomes clear that we are not in current time, rather a period in the future that is goth/steampunk Edwardian in style, so it is not strange that I would be walking on the arm of a  man much younger than I, that is just the way people walk.  I hear myself tell my companion that the kids had vanished years before, and although Tim and I are still married, he had set off overseas to seek his fortunes.  Draco Lookalike nods in sympathy and offers his shoulder so I can rest my head on it and I accept.

We walk some more, and we see a line of kids walking behind their teacher, and I pause to admire their cuteness.  Then I notice one particularly sulky boy at the end of the line, not really following his classmates that well, pausing often to look around.  I recognize him as Isaac and I shout his name, running towards him.  He looks at me, but does not recognize me.  I start screaming at his teacher to give me back my son, and she shrugs and says that boy's parents never claimed him.  I learn that when we dropped the kids off at their daycare way back when, the daycare actually just dropped them off with this lady, and one day they didn't pick them up.  She had already sold Emily long ago to a rich childless couple, and she's been taking care of Isaac ever since.

I reach over to take Isaac's hand but he is acting like he can't even see me.  He wanders around, talking to himself, into the busy street.  I am really screaming now for him to pay attention, to get out of the street, but he doesn't hear. 

I am then awoken by Emi who is tapping my cheeks saying "Mama?  Mama?"  Maybe I was talking in my sleep?  I went back to sleep quickly, but the dream has bothered me since the morning, as if my head was trying to tell me something and I haven't gotten the message yet.