I spent the weekend participating in Memoranza, the scrapbook cult's mid-year free for all. Well, actually it's not free at all (heh).
You pay for the privilege of sitting in a hotel ballroom with other devotees of the hobby, drinking coffee, eating chocolate, and seeing who can out-cute the other in designing elaborate concoctions of patterned paper, stickers, heartwarming pre-printed sayings, and the occasional photograph.
I had a great time.
It took my mind off my mom's health; it took my mind off my job's instability. This year the price included a hotel room for the night. Even though I live only 40 minutes from the venue, I opted for the room. It meant I could slop around in my sweats in the evening and stay up as long as I wanted. It also meant that a certain handsome man would be waiting for me in bed when I got tired of deciding between the "Cottage" paper or the "Cabana" paper and trying to find those perfect stick-on letters that must be somewhere in my disorganized heap of
crap scrapbooking supplies.
Also, I opted out of the pizza and salad dinner that was included in the price to eat with that certain handsome men at a brewpub, where I partook of the cream ale in both liquid and ice cream form. (Yes! Cream ale ice cream! It was quite delicious, I must say.) I can say with some certainty that it lent a distinct element of creativity to the late-night crop.
Tomorrow I will pack a suitcase, gas up the car, and head to Ocean City to see for myself how Mom's doing. I know for sure that there are three doctor's appointments on the schedule. I hope to be able to take her to lunch a couple of times, and maybe to the boardwalk. We could sit on a bench and make fun of the crowds and I'll make her eat an ice cream cone or maybe some Thrasher's fries.
But right now I'm tired and my arms ache. Go figure.