Last night, Poopie and I were going to support some friends by watching their band play. However, it was a venue I had never been to before. Poopie hadn’t been there in a very long time. Dear Reader, you know what that means…I had no idea what to take to work on. The comparable bar Poopie suggested I use as a guide happens to have a well lit table in the back, I can’t count on that.
I started a concert hat just in case. But…I had some projects half started from Madrona. Plus another thing I just started (which is not the shawl I’m supposed to make for Sheri, because I suck). Plus spinning, plus…plus…plus… So, I just packed a little of everything. There’s the weaving on the knitting loom that hopes to become a hat someday. There’s the new hat. There’s the drop spindling.
We vaguely knew where the new-to-us venue is located, and went there. We pulled into a cruddy parking lot, and saw our friends’ car, so we knew we were in the right place. Huzzah! The Facebooks told us that our friends’ duo was going to be a solo since their poor children had come down with the plague. We walked into the bar, which was NOT situated for live music. Ok…many bars aren’t really set up for that. However, we didn’t see our friend. How weird. Poopie didn’t think much of it, though. He went to get us drinks.
Meanwhile, I am trying to use the information from my Madrona class on social media. I was taking the picture of all my stuffs and typing up a caption for Instagram when he came back. He brought the largest White Russian I’ve seen outside of my kitchen. The featured image shows that it’s in a diner’s juice glass. He also brought menus, just in case. “Huh” he said. I was happily typing on my phone..clickity clack. “What?” I asked without looking up (I can be rude like that). “We are in the wrong place. I guess that explains why our friend isn’t here.” Sure ’nuff…
SO…if you were to follow me on Instagram (latejedoracrafts), you would see the picture, and the caption, which says: “When Poopie makes me go to a new venue, I need to pack ALL THE PROJECTS. Also. We are in the wrong venue.” I find me hilarious. I had believed from my class that the post would also share to my Facebook page (La Tejedora Crafts). I was wrong. Apparently, I have to go in and check it over? I’ll have to do more research to see if I can make it auto-cross-pollinate
In my defense, I was busy hating on Kristi (not her real name) during my class. She was loud, obnoxious, and was clearly always right…even when she wasn’t (no! she was not me!). It started off with her being snotty about my laptop “I don’t know why people spend thousands of dollars on a laptop when a tablet will do everything a laptop does”. Except, Kristi couldn’t figure out how to log into the WiFi, and had to ask for the password like five times (take that!). It went downhill from there. I mentally added an “e” to the end of her name. She strikes me as someone who would HATE that. She kept talking over the teacher, and interrupting. At one point, the teacher was working with a student one on one, and Kristie (notice the e??) just started asking her random questions from across the room. All this means that the instructor was not able to share as much as she probably planned, nor was I able to glean as much as I wanted. But…I know how to Google. It’ll happen, just slowly and painfully. Kristie will forever be my social media scapegoat.
Back to last night…I chugged that White Russian. It wasn’t very good. I think they were running out of Kahlua? What it lacked in flavor, it made up for in volume. (insert NSFW joke here) We went across the parking lot to the correct bar. It was what I imagined it would be. There really wasn’t a stage space. The tables were lit with Beer signs. There was even a large biker dude, complete with motorcycle patches on his leather jacket. Also, he had an itty bitty dog with its own leather vest. Apparently, it was a support dog? The dichotomy was startling to say the least.
While the various bands played, I worked on the loom weaving. As you can see from the beginning of the night, to the end, it’s relatively quick work. And I can do it by the light of the beer sign. This post and caption DID happen to make it from Instagram to Facebook. My social media ineptitude is making me fear I am totally turning into my mother. Pretty soon, I’ll be over-using and abusing emojis in my texting. (Don’t ask, I have a rant all prepared concerning my mom’s texting habits)
So, last night’s party fouls were only somewhat failures. We made it to the right place (eventually), and were able to show music love. It ended up just being a hiccup in the process. Hopefully, the continuing social media fails will be hiccups in the process. And even if they are not, they are apparently making good blog fodder. Just please, as much as I love my mother, don’t let me turn completely into her.
Totally off topic, I’m writing this in a coffee shop, and this couple next to me are clearly on a first date. Spoiler alert, he is NOT failing. He’s making good eye contact, clearly listening, asking all sorts of follow up questions.