Scrapbooking USA
There are few things in my life that I get excited about. (Heath issues frankly. Excitement causes stress, which cause...well, lets just say repercussions and use our imagination). Scrapbooking USA is one of them. Twice a year, I gear up to learn new techniques and find new and better page ideas. This Friday was opening day.
Thursday night, I gathered all my necessary paraphernalia. I put the paper in the paper section, the different colors in alphabetical order and zipped it close. This is a simple according type file that has a flap. Works wonders. Next I pulled out the huge case on rollers with a nice long handle. (Your typical suitcase on wheels). My scissors of every shape and size imaginable are in the special 'scissor' slots on one side and the special pens and stencils are housed in fancy pockets on the other side. In the center is my scrap-book. I prefer to keep my paper and cutters separate, because as I understand it, things come alive and play at night. (I've seen all three Toy Stories, and can you imagine what scissors could do to an innocent piece of card stock? The horrors.) Always bend on the side of caution. I cringe at the thought of opening my case to a confetti massacre. separation is imperative.
First thing Friday morning, I grab my purse, the roller case with the according file on top and get into my van. I feel great!
I pick up my good friend, and we arrived well before the line of patrons that wraps around the building, foaming at the mouth to get inside, and claimed the perfect table. (If you are going to be scrapbooking pages for 14 hours, you must have comfort).
Everything goes as planned, until... Our cases are unpacked, we have our glue sticks and pages in front of us and a friend stops by..."Hey, we're on our way over to the stampin' table to learn a new technique, want to come?" Who am I to say no. This is the purpose of being there.
"Sure." I leave Barb at the table (holding down the perfect fort, sort of speak) and I take four steps when it hits me. The irritating stab to the Kidneys. The urge to use the bathroom, right now. I excuse my self and run, (no time to walk) and hightail it to the restrooms. And find myself standing in a line of with several other anxious women. While I, like so many before me, are doing the ever popular
potty dance, realize that this is going to be a reoccurring problem
for the next 13 hours. I should have consumed a few tons of cranberry
Juice when I was doing all that wonderful packing and planning.
So...needless to say, I believe, all-in-all, I got two pages done.
UTI or not...I stayed until Mid-night. Hey! Scrapbooking USA
only comes around twice a year! Next time, I'm supplying the beverages.
Until next week, look forward to the fun things in life :-)
Thursday night, I gathered all my necessary paraphernalia. I put the paper in the paper section, the different colors in alphabetical order and zipped it close. This is a simple according type file that has a flap. Works wonders. Next I pulled out the huge case on rollers with a nice long handle. (Your typical suitcase on wheels). My scissors of every shape and size imaginable are in the special 'scissor' slots on one side and the special pens and stencils are housed in fancy pockets on the other side. In the center is my scrap-book. I prefer to keep my paper and cutters separate, because as I understand it, things come alive and play at night. (I've seen all three Toy Stories, and can you imagine what scissors could do to an innocent piece of card stock? The horrors.) Always bend on the side of caution. I cringe at the thought of opening my case to a confetti massacre. separation is imperative.
First thing Friday morning, I grab my purse, the roller case with the according file on top and get into my van. I feel great!
I pick up my good friend, and we arrived well before the line of patrons that wraps around the building, foaming at the mouth to get inside, and claimed the perfect table. (If you are going to be scrapbooking pages for 14 hours, you must have comfort).
Everything goes as planned, until... Our cases are unpacked, we have our glue sticks and pages in front of us and a friend stops by..."Hey, we're on our way over to the stampin' table to learn a new technique, want to come?" Who am I to say no. This is the purpose of being there.
"Sure." I leave Barb at the table (holding down the perfect fort, sort of speak) and I take four steps when it hits me. The irritating stab to the Kidneys. The urge to use the bathroom, right now. I excuse my self and run, (no time to walk) and hightail it to the restrooms. And find myself standing in a line of with several other anxious women. While I, like so many before me, are doing the ever popular
potty dance, realize that this is going to be a reoccurring problem
for the next 13 hours. I should have consumed a few tons of cranberry
Juice when I was doing all that wonderful packing and planning.
So...needless to say, I believe, all-in-all, I got two pages done.
UTI or not...I stayed until Mid-night. Hey! Scrapbooking USA
only comes around twice a year! Next time, I'm supplying the beverages.
Until next week, look forward to the fun things in life :-)
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