What Goes On At The Scrapbooking Party Stays At The Scrapbooking Party

I'm known by many titles in this mortal coil. Mother of the Year, Trophy Wife, Sauerkraut Taste Tester, Monkey Sock Supermodel, Champion Chicken Dancer, just to name a few. As of last Friday, I can finally add a new dimension to my list of distinguished accomplishments.......as a Scrapbooking Queen.

I know what you're thinking, "Isn't this the same woman who openly mocks scrapbooking, scrapbookers, and everything that they stand for?" Yes, that would be me. I even wanted to create a blog header declaring this blog a "Scrapbook Free Zone". So, why the sudden change of heart? Well, we ridicule and fear the things we don't understand. I've never attended a Scrapbooking Party in my entire life until last week's scrappy soiree at a Church members home, and I must admit, it gave me some newfound perspectives.

At first, I hung back, reluctant to say or do anything because I felt like a filthy scrapbook voyeur, silently watching the every snip and paste hand movement in the room. After a few Oreo's in me though, I loosened up considerably, and this is the final condensed document of all that transpired.

1. I casually dropped in a "camel toe" joke while talking about how Rocky Mountain jeans fit, causing tittered laughter, gasps, and a few of the more pious Sisters to actually cover their gaping mouths with their hands. WHAT???!!!?? I guess I need a list of Scrapbooking Conversational Etiquette Rules, because I don't think camel toe is anything shocking. My daughters and I even have a special covert hand symbol we utilize while wearing our bathing suits that lets the recipient know that they need to attempt a delicate frontal extraction. Hey! Maybe I should scrapbook that. Lesson Learned: I'm too potty mouthed for prime time socialization with church folk.

2. While feigning interest in one of the Scrapbook lay outs, I innocently remarked on the spelling of the word splayed all over the page. I noticed that the word had been spelled with an "I" instead of the appropriate "A". I honestly thought that the "I" had been supplanted for the "A", because there's no way that the meager amount of space would have accommodated any letter wider than an "I". I remarked on how clever the alternative spelling was which set off a shockwave of incredulous disbelief. Apparently, the lady didn't actually know that the word was indeed misspelled. A flurry of women scattered to console her because she seemed visibly upset. *sigh* Lesson Learned: Scrapbooking women must be ardent perfectionists.

3. After talking for a brief time with a new lady from England, I commented on all the BBC shows the kids and I check out from the library, our favorite being, "Keeping Up Appearances". Then, I dazzled her with my best Hyacinth impersonation. Things were going swimmingly, until I said the word, "Wanker." I had only commented that I see that word bandied about quite often on a website I visit with numerous British members. Apparently, that word is much worse than I once imagined. So, now I learned a lesson in offending people from England. I can now say something vulgar in nearly 6 languages. I have harnessed the power to offend on an international scale. Go ME!

4. A homeschooling acquaintance and I couldn't stop laughing about cliche Mormon stories. I contributed a platter of brownies to the party, which immediately sprung this story to mind. The conversation progressed, and we compared how many times we've had to sit through the same stories at Church, and how Mormonism needs a few fresh writers. Chief among them has to be the allegory about the train engineer who sacrifices his son to save the train of people crossing a bridge, the analogy of one skinny boy who steals lunches and he cries when the bigger boy in his class voluntarily takes the whipping punishment for it, and everyone's favorite about picking up dying starfish and throwing them back into the ocean. When, one of the ladies interrupted and looked absolutely crestfallen. It seems her husband had used the brownie/dog poop story just the week before with his Church class, and she wanted to know how we could have possibly heard the same tale. Lady, are you serious? We've all been subjected to that lame story at least two to three times per year. I'm a convert, and I've heard it so often, I can actually mouth the dialogue right along with the presenter. Lesson learned: I hold the power to crush people's feeling that they are somehow original.

5. Lastly, when discussing music, one Sister lowered her voice to a whisper and peered around the room all shifty-eyed like she felt guilt ridden, and told us, "I have a wild side too, you know. Sometimes, I listen to matchbox 20." That did it. I started laughing, thinking that she employed the art of sarcasm quite well for a cute little scrapbooking person. Nobody else even cracked a smile. It wasn't a joke. I have a playlist that includes Korn, Rammstein, NIN, and Ministry. Ummm yeeeeaaah, my kids have listened to wilder music than matchbox 20 on Radio Disney. Lesson Learned: I'm musically incompatible with scrapbookers.

I didn't intend to be so uncouth. Good gracious, I didn't even fart. Not even one time. I promise. I'm just honestly looking for a few good, like-minded friends to goof off with. Oh well, I have another chance at scrapbooking bliss next week. That is, if I haven't been banned by the Scrapping Cabal for my insolence. If I have, then I'm like soooooo gonna take pictures of them and scrapbook the moment using a horned devil themed background.