The weekend had its ups and downs and downs and downs. I got to play with MY friends, even though they weren't in costume. (My daughter is the one with the pink hair).
We went to Panera Breads for breakfast and as I gazed longingly at all the breads I couldn't have, I told my friend that you know it's been too long without bread when you walk into Panera and get sexually aroused.
I had a wonderful strawberry smoothie and the guts to a breakfast sandwich.
Then we went to SR Harris which is a warehouse of fabric. I had been there a year or so ago and their stock hasn't change all that much. I just got enough fabric for a summer dress.
Then we were off to Blue Bamboo. This is a store that doesn't want to admit that it is a REAL store and not just a virtual store. When you go to their website, they don't mention that they have a bricks and mortor store. They are also located in a business park instead of a retail area. Perhaps the most telling part of their retail denial is that when you walk in, they have piles of cut fabric everywhere. And I'm not just talking about nice, neat piles of fabric marked with price tags, folded and ready for sale. I'm talking about piles of fabric that have been cut and left on the floor or in boxes. Unfolded, unmarked, and to all appearances, unloved. When I timidly began poking through a box, I asked one of the gals working there if the items in the box were for sale. Since the three people working there had been involved in a conversation with each other since we walked in and had never acknowledged our presence, she seemed a little pissed that I had interrupted. "Yes," was all she said. I stood there holding a piece of fabric in my hand that looked like a yard or a little more but wasn't folded or marked in anyway.
"And the cost is?" I asked.
She raised an eyebrow at me and obviously thought I needed a helmet and a ticket on the short bus. "Well, that depends on the yardage..."
It was at that exact time that I desperately wanted to start interrupting their conversation every minute or two with the most annoying and obvious questions I could think of. Perhaps I would also start drooling and rolling my eyes. If I hadn't been with my two friends that actually shop there as their local store and would be coming back in the future, I would have.
The shop was also littered with empty boxes, half empty boxes, bolts of fabric all over the place which I stumbled over on more than one occasion, and stacks of fat quarters and half yard cuts (not differentiated mind you, pick what you want and go to the register for a FUN FUN FUN game of guess the total!!!) which fell on my head when I was kneeling on the ground, extracting my foot from a pile of fabric bolts. It was at that point that I came to the conclusion that if they didn't give a damn about how their store looked, neither would I. I took the pile from atop my head, threw it on the floor, and continued slogging through the slush and mush of fabrics.
Unfortunately, THEY HAD BEAUTIFUL FABRIC!!!!!
I felt like a total whore.
They specialize in Asian fabrics and my daughter and I are hatching a plan to set up a vending table at the next anime convention. She will sell her drawings and I will sell Asian bags. Needless to say, I stocked up.
I then felt really, really dirty.
My friends say that the store is always like that. They have even told the owner that they would be happy to come in and help clean up and organize and they would work for fabric. Their offer was rebuffed.
To cleanse my palate, we then headed to Crafty Planet. The NEW Crafty Planet. Now, Crafty Planet is one of my favorite little craft stores in the city because they appeal to my tastes. The only problem in the past has been the fact that their store has had water problems and their fabric would have a musty smell to it. But no more!!! Their new location is beautiful, they had a ton of customers, their neighboring stores rock, and I bought fabric for a skirt which I made last night...
It made Blue Bamboo look like a Vietnam flashback.
By this time, I was totally beat. Actually, halfway through Blue Bamboo, I was getting all rubber legged and wheezy. By the time I got back to the hotel, I was ready for a margarita and an iron lung.
Now, as you may have noticed in my opening, there were also low lights to this weekend. Yes, I felt like crap (way to go, Captain Obvious). I also suffered the death of my Ipod. How's that for irony? I just posted about my playlists and guess what??? Everything is now gone. Gone baby, gone. Since I was at the Mall of America, I stopped at the Apple Store where they looked at it and said "Yup. That's dead." Thankfully, they will replace it for free. The kind young boy gave me a case number and a telephone number and told me to give them a call to arrange the burial and adoption. When I got back to the hotel, I called the number and funnily enough, it was a phone number to a health insurance company. Did I look ill??? I know that health insurance companies are brancing out but are they now working on Ipods??? I called the store back and got a totally different phone number to call. Now, I get to wait.
I will never talk about my playlists again.
Other lowlights? I had two choices on Sunday. Walk around the Mall of America for four hours or spend some of that time watching a movie. I chose Leatherheads. Not because I am one of those sad, sad middle aged women that are under the delusion that George Clooney thinks about them while he's having sex with all the little Hollywood hotties. No, I saw Leatherheads because it was the only movie that didn't make me want to take a razor blade into the theater and start cutting myself. Well, that was my initial thought at least.
My review of the movie? "100 minutes of your life that you'll never get back."
I kept having to tell myself that when you pay $9 for a movie, you shouldn't get up and walk out. But in all honesty, the only thing keeping me there was the fact that my other option was to walk around the mall. Let's see, I hate malls, I hate consumerism, and in general, I hate humanity...Yup...let's watch this stinker...
I am mystified by Rene Zellweger. She has the most twisted face and she couldn't act her way out of a paper bag. How did she get where she is today?
Anyway, to end the weekend, we drove into an ice storm about an hour away from home. Rental van + Other People's Children + Ice Storm = white knuckles.
Now? I leave for Washington DC in two days.