NOTE ADDED LATER: After looking at the comments to this post, I'm now worried about its tenor! I wrote this post very tongue and cheek, and Joy and I did a fair amount of giggling throughout the class. This was supposed to make you laugh (I snickered as I was proofing it, anyway)!
So don't take the following too seriously - I know I didn't!
Ahem....If there was a theme song to the Valentine's Day workshop I recently took at Archiver's it would have to be Love Stinks.
About the only nice thing about that class was my date, Joy.
Joy and I met through the Hero Arts FLickr Group. Because we both live in Indy, Joy invited me to come to a class she was planning on taking. Having taken two previous Archiver's classes, I knew there was a really good reason I didn't want to take another one....
I just couldn't remember it.
And if you can't remember it, then it must not be that big a deal, right? (Actually, I am now realizing that the whole thing was so traumatic I think I blocked it out of my memory, never to be accessed again until my carefully hidden split personality takes over during the next traumatic event. Oh, sure, laugh now, but when Sybil Sue shows up with a meat cleaver, I bet you won't be giggling away!)
The real point here is that I wanted to meet Joy, so I really didn't care what I made in the class or how dreadful the end result might end up looking.
Besides, this was a chance to actually get some Saturday time to myself. No Husband. No Gigi. No Bisquit or Puddin'! No Laundry, no Cleaning, no -- this is sounding a lot like a certain holiday song about reindeer, isn't it? Anyway, it would be just my stamper friend and me and some ink and the open road. Let's face it, Joy was my ticket to JOY so who cares what those crazy Archiver's people did, right?!
I did have some vague recollection of inadequate tools they provided in the past, so I packed a little emergency first-aid kit with my bare minimum must-have's: a mat knife, detail scissors, tiny bottle of Ranger's Glossy Accents, Kokuyo adhesive roller, 6" ruler, Spatula, paper piercer and automatic pencil! I was soooooo ready to handle any disaster they threw my way!
Let's see... hard to tell, really, exactly when things started to go south.
It might have been when I glued down the first card's elements - only to realize that my card was opening backward.
Or perhaps it was when I found myself confronting 24 teensy little rhinestones and discovered the little picker-upper-thingie with the green goo picker-upper didn't work. Not the tiniest bit of goop was coming out of that sucker. Despite the deepest sympathy of the instructor, she couldn't quite bring herself to provide me with one that did work. (I got my revenge later, though. Two different sales associates came into the class - both looking for one of these little sticks, and they took mine! 24 women in that class, and they took the only stick with an attitude problem! Poetic justice, baby!!!)
Then there was the embossing.
Picture if you will.... 24 women. 10 stamps (some of them really tiny). Five colors of powder. Four heat guns. One aisle. Needless to say, we all could have benefited from an Embossing Crisis Center, I think.
Discovering that half the clear stamps wouldn't stick to the acrylic blocks was a real treat. Especially when the inked stamps fell onto my paper. Which is all you get, btw. No do-overs here, by jingo!
My personal favorite, though, was when the instructor handed out cling stamps with NO acrylic blocks. The original blocks had "walked off" and we were just supposed to make do without. (Being a rebellious sort, I liberally covered the button container lid with stickiness from my trusty Kukuyo and used that as a mount.)
We had two hours to make four cards and a treat container, but our teacher was anxious to get somewhere, I think - possibly a seminar in speed talking. You would have thought we were on a race to diffuse a bomb, because she wasn't going to stop for love nor money! Joy and I were the last ones finished, I think, and there was 30 minutes left in the class.
Of course, all this hurrying exacerbated my glue issues. I told Joy that she was free to share the truth about my affliction, that my description of my problem wasn't an exercise in elaborate self-deprecation for the sake of humor. That, yes, I could screw up even a tidy little glue dot. And did. Often.
I tell you, that was the most stressful morning I've had in a while. I was exhausted when it was over. Joy was so done-in she made some comment about going home and taking to her bed. It took both of us a good hour of retail therapy to recover from the trauma!
I ended up buying a lot of the same papers, etc we used in the class, so I could come home and make my own versions of their cards because, frankly, I can't give away the cards I made. They're too disfigured from botched embossing and falling stamps. They look like refuges from a paper war. So I'm going to make some new cards - and at my own pace, thank you very much. With sharp scissors and acrylic stamps and ribbon that's longer than my big toe.
Despite the trauma of it all, I'm glad I took the class because Joy seems like a gentle and sweet soul, someone I'd like to get to know better.
And she doesn't have any glue issues.