B&B for some R&R

So I went to a little dealy called "Get the Craft OUT Yo House" this weekend at a local bed and breakfast. Local crafter Kait put this event together and while it was the second one, it was my first.

Because Kait thanked me publicly (read: facebook) for flaking out on the first, I'll have you know that Yes, I totally did. I was paid up and packed and read to go when my good ole anxiety took hold: I don't know anyone! They'll hate me! I've never been here before! What if they hate my craft? ACK I can't do this! And so I shut down and didn't go.

That was SOOO 8 months - and bottles of medication - ago. So I show up, unpack and plug in. Then I realize I forgot some crucial elements at home. More and more show up and soon we have taken over the entire house and everywhere you look are irons, sewing machines, stacks of scrapbook paper, scissors, pencils and even fancy cutting machines.

And that's when the flair comes out.

A shiny little button reading "Craft is my Crack" spent the rest of Saturday on my shirt. It also served as a constant reminder that I missed the first one where (apparently) the flair read "I'm a Crafty MotherF*#%$r." Damn.

I got done what I could get done without my integral pieces and spent the rest of the time enjoying myself and those around me. I helped a friend with her giant wall pieces, I advised a new friend on the wonders of fusible web (in lieu of - get this - puffy paint!) and then cuddled into bed with tired eyes, a sore staple-gun-wielding hand and an aching back.

The next morning, I packed up my half-done projects and headed home.

Not sure if it's an actual sickness or just craft hangover, but I slept all day.