Well I am. And as per usual, I am awesome at it. And by "awesome" I mean I have become the Crazy Quilt Lady. It's like the Crazy Cat Lady but with more fabric squares and a greater possibility of sewing your finger to your forehead.
I know as much about making a quilt as I do about removing someone's small intestine. Not that I want to remove someone's intestines, I'm just saying that should intestines ever need to be removed, I would most likely suck at it. Which is probably a good thing. It'd be a little weird if at the top of my List of Accomplishments was "Intestines Removal Champion 2012."
Unless, of course, I was a doctor who was competing with other doctors to see who could remove the most intestines in a pre-determined amount of time. However, I think that would land me on the "Worst Doctor in the History of Ever" List and I promised myself I would never end up on that list.
I don't know. Remember when blogging was simple and all we talked about was anal bleaching?
Speaking of anal bleaching, I'm making a quilt!
See what I did there?
I may have started out a novice, but in the
1. Cut four hundred thousand fabric squares.
2. Spread them all over your house.
3. Freak the f*ck out.
I tried to enlist the help of the husband, but he was all, "This soccer game won't watch itself!" and proceeded to be absolutely useless.
Me: What pattern should I make?
The husband: I don't know.
Me: Should I do it like this?
The husband: It's your quilt.
Me: BUT I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!!
The husband: This is your project. You figure it out.
Me: What's 15 x 27.
The husband gives me the answer without using a calculator.
Me: What makes a square?
The husband: Seriously?
Me: If I do four rows of five with five inch squares...Carry the one...I need some paper! Help meeee!
The husband: This is your project. You're smart. You can figure it out.
Me: Your faith in my abilities is admirable. Laughable, but admirable.
A few minutes later...
Me: Oh! I know. I'll lay them out like this. Fourteen rows of eleven. Yes, that's it! Yay, I am the quilting winner! I...Crap! Now there's two blues next to each other. What the hell am I doing?
The husband: Ooh! Did you see that kick? It was awesome.
I did not see the kick, but I can assure you, it was not awesome. Nothing about soccer is awesome. Except when it's over.
Me: One, two, three, four...No, wait...one, two, three, four, five...
The husband: Good job, baby. What comes after five?
Me: Shut up.
Me: Oh look! I've got it! Purple, peacock, blue, stars. Repeat the pattern. Yay!
The husband: You're just talking to hear yourself talk, now. You know that, right?
Me: Crapdammit! It didn't work. It's because of the math! It all comes down to math. No one told me quilting would involve math!
I then proceeded to stomp, curse and throw stuff for the next twenty minutes.
A word of warning: if you throw pins all over your house, it will take months to find them all, and sometimes you find them in rather painful and, uh, unfortunate ways.
The more you know.
Finally, I screamed with triumph and much boasting, "The diagonal! It's all about the diagonal! This is how math works."
The husband: I'm pretty sure someone who says 'this is how math works' has no idea how math works.
Honestly, what the heck does he know? He does math without a calculator.
Pretty soon my house looked like this:
The husband was super excited to have quilting squares take over the house.
I whined to he husband that there is inadequate light down there. My sewing machine weighs forty-thousand pounds and there's no way a wee little lass like myself can haul it up the stairs. He replied that any time I wanted to work on my quilt to just tell him and he'd bring my sewing machine upstairs.
Any time? Really? It's currently two fifteen in the a.m. I'm pretty sure when the husband said any time, he especially meant two in the morning when he's sound asleep.
Let's find out, shall we...
As expected, that did not go well.
You know what does go well at two in the morning? Giving out a bloggy award!
In my last post I mentioned that over the last few months, a few super-fab bloggers have graciously awarded me the most coveted of all bloggy recognition - A Bloggy Award. It's taken me so long to pass along the award because they usually come with the condition that you must reveal seven things about yourself. And that makes me so nervous, I poop my pants. And as much as the husband dislikes being woken to haul my sewing machine around the house, he really hates to be woken to the news I've crapped myself.
So in order to maintain my sexiness, I've decided to skip the whole seven things thing and just hand out the award. (In case anyone wants to lecture me on this, you can save it. I preceded the whole award thingy with a very awesome post, which takes care of the whole seven things thing.)
Today's award is the Very Inspiring Blogger Award, given to me by the uber chic Blogdramedy. Not only is she tres cool, but in high school, she was also voted Most Likely to Never Crap Her Pants.That's probably a total lie. Not the never crapping her pants part, but the part about being voted on for never crapping her pants.
Hey! Here's a thought. Do you think people who crap their pants are more likely to undergo anal bleaching?
You guys ponder that while I show off my award and pass it along to fifteen, that's right, FIFTEEN, bloggers.
And the award goes to...
The Southern Norther
Just a Lil Blog
Dads Who Change Diapers
Dad of the Decade
it's so Fuzzy!
The Crazy Life of a Writing Mom
Kelley's Break Room
Shut the Front Door
Rubber Chicken Madness
Time Out for Mom
Dude of the House
My Suitcase Full of Tricks
the robot mommy
A Working Woman's Guide to Dinner Or...If I Cook Chicken A La King One More Time I'll Kill Myself
For those of you who like to follow the rules, share seven things about yourself and pass the award on to fifteen bloggers.
And now, it's time for Comment Gems! Remember, every comment is a treasure to my heart, but here are a few highlights.
Klahanie: ...Just realising this has brought a joyous tear to my eye and I shall sing and dance and let the whole world know!... Your starstruck fan, Gary
Every time he comments, I can't help but feel he is mocking me...and I kind of love it.
Jen Has A Pen: ...Sometimes, you really DO just pee in your underwears. Same goes for nip pinching.
There was more to her comment, but this part spoke to me on so many levels.