I was going to tell you about my trip to Jo-Ann fabrics (first time ever!) where I was so intimidated by the sewing ladies and their cutting tables and having to bring bolts of fabric with you and standing in line and trying to keep three boy children acting even remotely non-insane while I'm balancing fabric and trim and pillows so that my mom could teach me how to sew the simplest thing she could think of (a pair of throw pillows. I mean, come on, it's a square. We're not even putting a zipper.)
And how, after accidentally cutting in line and getting dirty looks from all the seamstresses who rolled their eyes at my obvious amateurishness (hello! I think I made up a word!) I found out that my 1.167 yards of fabric and 4 yards of trim cost $90 plus tax and how there was no way I was going to ask if I could return it after it was cut and my kids had been literally tearing the store apart. No. For once in my life I swallowed my pride and paid up.
I was going to tell you all about my sewing machine adventure -- about how I bought one yesterday at Target for $80 and how it was such a piece of crap that it coughed and sputtered and almost had smoke coming out of it when my mom was trying to teach me how to use it on a thin piece of cotton.
I also was going to tell you how I broke the needle just ten minutes into my sewing adventure.
And then today came, and I returned the craptastic machine I bought at Target, and then I went to Walmart (GOD HELP ME) where I found more crappy crap machines, so I left empty handed, like I always do at Walmart, and then my mom was all like "let's go to Sears!" and we did, despite the fact that as far as I'm concerned the only reason to go there is to buy fleece at Land's End, and how we found the sewing machines wedged between the vacuum cleaners and the power saws, and how there were so many choices and the only person around was a sales man, and how my mom grabbed him (literally) and in halting English asked him which machine we should buy and how he looked at her like if she was insane. And then I asked him if he knew anything about sewing, and the goes "Oh HONEY, do I know sewing!" and he turned into, SWEAR TO GOD, Tim Gunn right before my eyes, and he talked to us in halting gringo spanish (it's true! He called himself a gringo and confessed that he hoped we would talk about him so he could be catty and he told me about how his mom used to make curtains and we became besties) and finally he showed us which machine to buy and pulled and poked and basically took a machine apart to prove to us this was the machine for me. And I bought it. Even though it was $200 bucks. Because I am powerless against Tim Gunn, even a fake one.
And that is how my throw pillows, that don't exist yet, will cost me $300. And a few days of my life.
I would tell you more, but I'm going to bed.