Confessions of a Scrapbooking Wannabe

Scrapbooking is not a new craze. For years now, my crafty friends and well-intenioned sisters-in-law have tried to persuade me to convert to this funky photo art. But scrapbooking didn't hold any allure for me. It seemed so predictable, so hoaky, so time-consuming. Not to mention the fact that I've got issues with taking photos. I love to look at them, but I'm never motivated to take them because I'm either feeling too chubby to be captured on film or too lazy to force my friends and family to gather in a photogenic manner.

But then I met Mrs. Aych, the wife of my husband's good friend, Mr. Aych. The other night, we made Christmas cards using her abundance of scrapbooking tools. Bins and bins of ribbons and die cuts (which are so fun to make because it's like using one of those Play-do machines that flattens out your dough) and papers and glitter pens line Mrs. Aych's kitchen walls. Her house is like a Michael's mini-store. Right away, my opinion of scrapbooking started to shift. I love to collect things. I love to accumulate stuff. And I totally love to acquire supplies because things like vellum paper never make you feel fat or poor or untalented.

Then, we started making the cards. None of my cards were masterpieces. -- Particularly one card that I cleverly thought looked like Santa's hat, but both my husband and Mrs. Aych thought was a fireplace; Turns out I confused a pilgrim's square hat with Santa's furry cap. -- But I really enjoyed picking out the paper and thinking of ways to arrange those little die cuts (gingerbread, snowmen -- aren't you getting warm and fuzzy just thinking about them?).

So now I have no choice but to scrapbook because I want to purchase papers and pens and this really cool thing that turns small cut-outs into stickers so you don't have to glue up your fingers or paper. And there's just not enough card-giving occasions for me to use all that stuff. So I basically have no choice but to submit myself to scrapbooking.

That's my confession for the day.