Wednesday, July 8, 2015

My Craptacular Crafts

I'm a terrible adult.

If you would have asked me what kind of adult I was going to be when I was 8, I'm almost positive I wouldn't have told you that I'd be the kind of adult who wears Christmas socks at random times throughout the year because she wont do laundry until she's worn all of her clothes.  I also probably wasn't anticipating that I would forget to register the plates on my car almost every year or that I'd be eating cereal out of the mixing bowls instead of doing the dishes (you can judge me, but we all know they're bigger anyway).  In spite of these things, I'm still independent and functioning - though some days it depends on your definition of "functioning" especially on days when I really don't want to wear pants

When I was growing up, my mom did fun, craft activities with us all the time and as an "adult" I  still find a certain level of enjoyment from expressing my creativity through what I call "Martha Stewart Craft Shit" (because I like to drink while I do it, just like Martha).  As a single introvert, I also find that doing crafts is a great way to spend my time instead of bemoaning my dislike for meeting new people while pity partying at not having a boyfriend to binge-watch Netflix with. Unfortunately it seems that while I'm independent and "functioning" in other areas of my life, I've never outgrown the need for adult supervision when I engage in arts and crafts.

This is why I avoid Pinterest.

As someone who comes from a family history of hoarding, it's also just not a good idea for me to be active on a website that promotes crafts that involve stockpiling crap like toilet paper rolls so I can re-purpose them by creating wall art in the shape of flowers.

But I digress.

Recently, after noticing the large pile of perfectly good pallets we've managed to collect at work while feeling particularly bored and single, I found myself perusing Pinterest for a pallet project; I'm still not sure how long I sat at my desk while visions of Pallet Gardens danced in my head.

Just as I was starting to make a list of the things I would need to pick up at the Home and Garden store, I had a flashback of the last time I started a project that involved making a list: a coworker had some really cute polymer clay coated pens, and when I complimented them she boasted about how easy they were to make before rattling off some directions.

I left work that day and went to the craft store for clay where I managed to find some on clearance; The little blocks felt a little hard, but I lied to myself that they wouldn't still be trying to sell them if they weren't any good.  I made another stop to pick up two packages my coworker said I needed before I headed home. 

Once home, I attempted to make a flower pattern which ended up looking more like mutated pink marijuana leaves.  I ended up rolling out the clay until it resembled pink camo (because I liked pink camo before it was an overpriced fad). The clay was so rough I only had enough energy to make three pens, which I then put in the pre-heated oven as directed.

I'm still not sure what went wrong.

Before I knew it, I was asking myself the dreaded question, "What is that smell?"

While the clay had baked exactly as it was supposed to, the pens had melted and then burned to the bottom of the pan.  To this day, I wonder what the consequences will be for breathing in the more-than-likely toxic fumes released from the burning plastic pens. I also occasionally miss the cake pan I ended up throwing away because I was convinced anything I ever made would be tainted by the taste of burning plastic and polymer clay.

As the memory of the acrid smoke cleared, I returned to my "pinning" and removed every single pallet project that could end with me nailing myself to something, accidentally removing a body part, or asphyxiating on fumes.  While some might see this as quitting before I start, I choose to believe it is an act of self-preservation.  Either way, I think I'm going to just stick with things I know for now and the next time I find myself hankering for

Then again, I can totally see the value in a situation where I have to call a fireman.


  1. Yep. Amy reason to call a fireman.

  2. Lol. This was too funny. Maybe I should take the same approach to makeup. Pinterest is so dangerous!

    Beauty Isles | An Island Girl's Beauty and Lifestyle Blog

  3. I swear we could be related, right down to the history of family hoarding. (Besides, anytime I throw away craft supplies, I find a use for them less than a week later!)
    And do not feel bad about the pen. After 17 years of playing with polymer clay, I STILL can't do one of the cane things with the cute little flowers inside or bake a damn pen without it melting. As much as I love Pinterest, I refer to it as the Lying Bitch. (Easy my behind!)