you can thank me later.

Apologies, gentle readers, for the radio silence of the last few days. But in a rare humanitarian effort, I was sparing you the drama of … packing for Stitches. Before I bare all and show you how quickly I turn into a little stress monkey, I need to make a few things clear:
• I am insanely proud of being considered professional enough to teach at such an amazing and huge venue. It’s both an honor to be considered, and a great treat to teach all of you and share what I do with you.
• I am also very aware of how lucky I am to be able to work at my passion; to have work that I would get up and do at 5 in the morning (and ask Boyhood how often I do that!).
• It’s an amazing experience to have Sally Melville know me by name, and to sit in a room with her and Nancy Bush and Ginger Luters and Lily Chin and … good gracious, it makes my head swim just to think of it.

So it’s been a huge honor and great fun, but people? The travel. The packing. The preparation. Ask The Hound how much caterwauling and breast-beating filled our little house this last week as I ground down to two major deadlines on top of getting ready for this gig.

Here’s the scenario: 4 classes, 5 days away from home in two bags of not more than 50 pounds each. It doesn’t leave a girl much room for more than a few changes of underwear. (Good thing Dr. K taught me about thongs! They take up much less space!)

Now, I have no problem designing and organizing classes. I love strategizing so that I bring stuff that will make for a really dynamic, visually rich class. But frankly, packing up my little dog-and-pony show to take it across the country for a show really does bring out my paranoid side. Double redundancy is for the cavalier – I’m talkin’ triple and quadruple redundancy, or I’m up at night, worrying:

Handouts? Check: All copied and collated and stuffed into folders. Shall I go ahead and ship them to the hotel?

But they lose boxes all the time– and won’t that cost a lot?

Well, I might have room and weight in my luggage for them…

What if they lose my luggage?

Master copies of all handouts in a binder, in my carry-on. Heavy as sin, but worth having it on my person at all times.

But what if my carry-on is stolen from under my chair at the airport while I’m blogging?

Oh-kaay… Then we’ll have the .pdfs on the laptop.

Yeah- that laptop that’s in your carry-on that’s just been stolen?

Riiiight… so I’ll copy all my major files onto my flash drive that’ll live … in my purse!

Nobody ever said it was easy living in my brain.

Of course, the only problem with quadruple redundancy is that it’s, well – HEAVY.
I was watching an episode of the 1990s TV series “House of Elliott” the other day – in which a young lady is going to fly across the channel with her beau to Paris. As he is loading her (considerable) luggage into the boot of the car, a friend asks “Are you allowed to take all this?” To which she gives the flippant reply: “No-one’s told me I cahn’t.”

I tell ya, it made me want to scream – and vow to start teaching only workshops on socks – or perhaps knitted thongs?

So students, be gentle on me this weekend:
If you get a folder that’s a bit crumpled, remember that I schlepped it through 3 airports and 3 time zones.
Come on up and fondle the sample sweaters – after all, if you don’t interact with them, then I’ve brought them all the way out here for nothing!
And maybe just one of you could compliment me on my (one pair of) earrings and (one pair of) shoes. A girl still has her vanity, after all.

If you want to drop by that compliment, you can reach me in the airport lounge.
I’ve made it to Chicago – time for a wee drinkie?