Today, the ASS Gurus help Frantic in Fresno.
Dear ASS Gurus,
The day tickets went on sale for Sewing Summit, I was him-hawing around about whether to purchase, and like so many others, I missed my chance to buy before they sold out. Now, I’m wondering how I might sneak into the classes should I decide to crash the illustrious Sewing Summit.
Frantic in Fresno, lucky Danny! She’s been given the privilege of laying some knowledge on this poor sap.
Dear Frantic in Fresno,
My father always says, “Lack of planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on mine,” but since I am an ASS guru and it is my job to answer these questions, I will bite. But you really ought to have purchased a ticket. I mean, was it really THAT tough of a decision:
to go to the most amazing sewing/blogging convention in the known world, or not to go?
Hamlet messed around with those thoughts and look where it got him! But I digress…
It’s funny how you can be completely indifferent about something until the moment comes when you no longer have a choice between “A” and “B” (we shall call them “to go” and “not to go”, respectively). Then, the moment immediately following when you become hysterical and yes, frantic, over the split-second decision “to go” only after “to go” is no longer an option. Not funny? Maybe it’s just funny to me sitting at the café across the street sipping my latte while I watch you running into trees and storefronts ready to self-implode. Regardless, in order “to go” now that “not to go” is the only legal option, you must first get your head on straight. Calm down. Sing the mantra. Count to ten. Whatever it is you do to refocus and stop slamming your body with flailing arms into the helpless homeless man trying to enjoy his nice conversation with his pigeon friend. You’re scaring him. Stop it.
Now that I’ve gotten your attention, here are some options:
– Research. You must know by now the events of last year’s Sewing Summit are scrawled and photo-documented across just about every sewing blog in blog land. Look past the 10,000 pictures of that one lady standing with 20 other random ladies (and maybe one guy. We aren’t sexist here, but let’s be honest gentlemen. You’re outnumbered) and look for badges, shirts, folders. Anything with the proper insignia. You must make everyone think you’re supposed to be there. Act like someone who took the time to purchase a ticket (as you should have done). If you’re as passionate about attending SS this year as you appear, there is no force in the world that can stop you from whipping out your scrapbooking supplies and creating an exact replica of the badges from last year. With it, you will be able to attend any class without having to worry about being seen because while some sewing ladies may be snarky, they would never be so to your face for fear of ruining their precious online reputation. My guess is that they would run from room to room to find you an extra chair, give you a free charm pack of the newly released Bella, and apologize profusely for any inconvenience the delay may have caused, all while passing you a Moo card asking you to “follow” their blog.
– Be stealthy. Is acting not your thing? That’s fine. Try this: Remember how I told you to research? This time, look at the wallpaper, the carpeting, the plastic potted plants meant to give the comforting feel of the outdoors. With five months and change, you should have plenty of time to create near-perfect costumes to make you blend into your surroundings. I recommend creating a morph suit to match each wall you intend to blend into. This way, your face, hands and feet will be completely covered as you try to make yourself as flat as possible against the back wall.
Or, you could go another route: Dress as one of those terrible plastic potted plants. You can hop from corner to corner to get a better view of the instructor’s perfect Y seam tips while taking notes on the backs of the fabric leaves. Just don’t try to be too fabulous. Keep those leaves green and your torso brown. You’ll be made quickly if you show up with a patchwork trunk. Also, be warned that trees take an awful lot of abuse. You may leave the convention covered in burns from the coffee Quokka Quilts threw into your pot or matted with the gum Littlest Thistle stuck to your leaves. People are nasty. Just saying.
– Become a conjoined twin. So this one might be a little hard to pull off, but hey! If you’ve made a decent enough friend in the sewing world who A. is attending, B. will let you room with her, and C. is willing to hoist you onto her back for the duration of the convention while letting you stick you head out through the enormous moo-moo you are hoping will fool everyone, then so be it! Just make sure you Photoshop all the pictures on your blog to include her face coming from your stretched out neck-hole, and that you are ready to scrap over who gets to take home the Robert Kauffman Kona Card you two will have to “share”.
There are always other options, like procuring a ticket. As a lioness preys on the weak of the herd, so you could wait in the darkness for a lonely-looking single lady bogged down with suitcases and not a friend in sight on her way into the Little America. Easy prey.
Or perhaps you become friends with someone you know is planning to go to Sewing Summit and send her a little “gift” of Mendocino laced with something that would cause confusion. Something that would cause her to send you that SS ticket, your Mendocino back, and some of that Good Folks she’s been hoarding all because her new and very good friend told her to. I, by the way, am not taking on any new friends between here and SS.
I have come to learn that procrastinators are a resourceful bunch; so whatever you decide to do, don’t tell us. Plausible deniability. Also, don’t be surprised if I walk around SS randomly punching the walls and spitting in the potted plants. You really should have just bought a ticket.
If you have a ridiculous question you would like a ridiculous answer to, please submit it in the comments below so a Guru can address it for you.