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Topic: You know what I mean...  (Read 30650 times)
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« Reply #80 on: March 18, 2010 03:44:10 AM »

My mum was always pretty careful about making sure I didn't go near her crafty stuff, so I didn't ruin anything of hers thankfully.
However, I did decide one day to wash all of Barbie's clothing in the bathroom sink, Dad walked in and just shrugged and let me carry on, both parents thinking it would keep me out of trouble for an hour or two. Anyway, they needed to dry so I hung them over the radiator in the bathroom, everything was fine except for one bright pink dress, the dye ran and left a bright pink stain on the white radiator...it was there for years until Mum finally got around to decorating the bathroom.

My brother was the worst for trying to get me into trouble with various stuff. If anything got broke, it was me who did it, I once spent several hours tidying my bedroom and then he decided to teach me a lesson (No idea what we'd been arguing about) and he tipped my boxes of toys over my floor then in a smug voice asked mum "Didn't you tell her to tidy her room?" Mum went to investigate, saw my look of absolute shock and calmly told him to pick everything up immediately.
OOh, then there was the time he finished a bottle of orange soft drink in a day and asked Mum to buy another bottle, when she asked why he'd drank it so fast he said "It wasn't me it was Pam." Mum wasn't fooled, two reasons, I hate fizzy orange drinks and also, I was at a camp school for a week. Really wish I could have seen the look on his face. Cheesy

I did once cut up a dress I didn't wear to make Barbie clothes, turned out Mum had planned on me wearing it to a birthday party...she couldn't stay mad though, mostly because she later admitted the Barbie outfit had been really well made for an 8 year old. LOL.

Athena: Today I was beat in a weaving contest by a mortal, so I threw a little bit of a hissy fit at her, so she hung herself...long story short she's a spider and everyone thinks I'm a bitch. FML
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« Reply #81 on: August 15, 2010 01:45:41 PM »

just read through all the pages ^^ very funny!
I can remember doing things like this as a young teenager.
Like mixing some of my mother's perfumes to make my own perfume (although I know I just use a few drops from every liquid I found) or mixing the left-overs from the shampoo's. Can't remember attacking my mother's fabric or yarn though, she must have hidden it very good Cheesy
As for other stories, I had a doll which hair turned into a mohawk but I really don't know how that could have happened Roll Eyes I'm thinking the old pink scissors for toddlers which are said not to cut through hair...
When I get close to a rack of spices, I usually get a nauseating feeling so I think I did something with them too like I did with the shampoo's ...

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« Reply #82 on: August 24, 2010 01:17:42 AM »

... the other barbies and gi joes and my little ponies and stuff (we had a varied make-believe universe) ... I used to play barbies with a girl who lived down the street whose dolls either lived in their original boxes or in a special carrying case; it was like her posh barbies were doing social work with my crack whore/ feral children barbies. Her malibu barbie was saying "Poor dear, lets coordinate your swimsuit and highheels, and then we can find your your own ken to buy you a dreamhouse." and my mohawked barbie with only one good eyebrow was considering the chopshop value of posh's corvette.  Grin

I think we lived parallel childhood lives. Cheesy

We were po' (too poor to afford the -or, but affluent enough to be able to the the optional ' accessory) so I always ended up with the neighborhood cast-off Barbies, ponies, GI Joes, Cabbage Patch dolls, etc. My sister and I took care of them once we got them, but they were already pretty beaten up by that point.

Somehow, the family always managed to scrape up enough to buy craft-y stuff, though. My sister only got interested in knitting for a brief period, then turned to cross stitching, but I got into EVERYthing. After the first couple of rounds of encountering my stubbornness, everybody else just gave up and let me have free reign over the household, as long as things didn't get too destructive.

Round one: Sewing. I was about three or four, Grandma was sewing a dress, and I wanted to help. I asked to help. I asked to make a Barbie dress. I asked to play with the buttons (all cut off of old clothes that were too tattered to recon and/or donate to the Goodwill). I asked to play with the embroidery floss in the sewing box. After hearing "no" quite a few times, I just stole the sewing box, dragged it out into the living room, snagged some scraps of fabric, and started my own project all by myself. Goodness only knows what it was supposed to be, but all the fabric scraps ended up with every single pin from the pincushion in them, holding them together. A handful of needles were buried in the shag carpeting - we were still finding them a year later, when we finally took it out to refinish the hardwood underneath. There were two or three spools of thread completely unwound and tangled everywhere, and I was trying to thread another needle to start sewing it all together. Grandma started teaching me to sew a couple of days later.

Round two: Cooking. This happened right around the same time as the sewing incident, maybe a little bit afterward. I wanted cookies. Chocolate chip and coconut cookies. I wanted them NOW. Grandma said no. Grandma then got caught up in a phone conversation. A phone conversation later, she comes into the kitchen, which has recipe cards strewn everywhere (though I did manage to pick out one with a cookie recipe and set it on the counter). The counter is covered in flour, eggs, and sugar. So is the floor. Measuring cups and spoons everywhere. I did manage to read the recipe well enough to try and measure correctly, got the right number of eggs out, and had the good sense to put on one of her aprons as well as possible, even though the hem hung nearly to the floor (I had to stand on a stool to do anything on the countertop at the time). Daddy started teaching me to cook not long after that.

Round three: Fingerpaints. My big sister had them. I did not. I wanted to play with them. She wouldn't share, and nobody would make her share. Insert use of kitchen privileges (thanks to Dad teaching me to cook) and the use of cornstarch, water, and a metric crap-ton of food coloring to make my own. Which was then used on the walls - which were going to be painted anyway.

They gave up. After I turned about six or so, they figured out that if I wanted to do it, it was going to happen anyway, and it was better to foster growth of these tendencies instead of hinder them. It got to the point where it was a common occurrence for me to walk up to a family member out of the blue and say something along the lines of "I want to paint a mural on the living room wall under the picture window tomorrow. In oils." (True story, I was nine.) Dad managed to talk me down to the more affordable acrylics. It's still there. Or the incident of "Daddy, I want to build a clubhouse, but I need wood." He didn't say a word, just shook his head and handed over his toolbox. The next day a convoy of pickups full of people he worked with pulled up to the house with old wooden pallets on them - I had to take them apart to begin construction.

On the up side, it's brought a whole new appreciation for encouraging the growth of all of this stuff. My own kids are not only encouraged to do arts and crafts, but are constantly being introduced to new things to see if they'll enjoy them. Being able to sew on a nearly professional level by the teenage years, cook a gourmet five course meal, and learn how to reuse almost everything has served well over the years. Besides, it's fun watching people flip out over the hardcore, leather clad, tattooed biker chick absolutely flip out over organic fluffy girly pink llama/alpaca blend homespun yarn. Cheesy

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« Reply #83 on: September 28, 2010 10:17:02 PM »

I and a friend actually used to strip our barbies, tie 'em up, and "torture" them. Roll Eyes

You have NO idea how relieved I am that I'm not the only one that did this as a kid!!!  I would even "borrow" my brother's GI Joes and have them come in and rescue the barbies from the evil ken dolls.

I do remember one time when my cousin was over for a visit with her mother (she was about 2 months older than me, so we were very close) around age 6 or 7.  Our moms got to talking in the kitchen and we wandered off into my mother's craft room, where we found her pinking shears and decided that we were going to give each other haircuts.  She had already chopped off my ponytail, and I was about halfway through hers when they discovered us.  To this day my mom teases me whenever I use pinking shears for anything!

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« Reply #84 on: November 03, 2010 06:17:43 PM »

I think my 1st major project was a lovely finger painted mural in/on the kitchen cabinets... The medium: crisco and tang mixed (I was 2 or 3)
I don't remember any major punishments or angry parents resulting from my many crafty attempts until about 4th grade. My Granny was willing to let me make Barbie clothes out of anything in her sewing kit, and even gave us broken jewelery and buttons/baubles to decorate pine cones like Christmas trees.
I do still get crap for the multiple colors of nail polish on furniture, and the bed sheets with random fabric paint on them. Oh, and Mom was none to happy with my 're-styling' the hair of several porcelain dolls from my collection!

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« Reply #85 on: November 12, 2010 02:20:35 PM »

haha... i read the first entry and thought "hhmmmm... dont remember ever doing anything REALLY bad..." but by the time i'd read all this stuff i've remembered some things =)

so the worst thing i ever did was.... when we were kids we lived in this house with a basement in detroit... there was a laundry chute in the bathroom which led down to the basement , and immediately under the laundry chute there was ALWAYS a veritable mountain of laundry waiting to be washed.... i used to go down there and play in the laundry pile. one day i decided that the hamster would have fun going down the laundry chute and landing in all that laundry underneath.... unfortunately, however, it was the one day ever in my memory that there was no laundry down there.... =( poor little hamster's eyes popped out & my dad (who was in his surgical residency at the time) had to do an eye-ectomy on him.... but he lived for a year or so after that!  (jeeze that sounds so bad now...) I think his eventual demise was cat-related...

my mom was sewing me a matching vest and shorts and i wanted to do something too... so i asked could i take a scrap of fabric and make a big flower to put on the front of a hat to match (this was the "blossom" era, folks!) i took this large, very irregular-looking hunk of fabric and cut a giant circle out of it - about an hour later my mom discovers that the large irregular piece of fabric i'd chopped up was the back & two front-pieces of the vest, which had already been cut out & sewed at the shoulders... i'd cut my giant circle right out of the back piece... oops!

my favorite, tho, was my little brother's achievement.... my mom decided to fry some fish, and put a big cast-iron skillet of grease on the stove. she couldn't figure for the life of her why, half-way through, all the fish (which had been rolled in cornmeal) were suddenly coming out of the grease lime green! a little interrogation revealed that when she'd stepped out of the kitchen for a moment my brother had snuck in and dumped a whole bulb of green food-coloring into the grease!

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« Reply #86 on: November 19, 2010 12:32:28 AM »

Erica, it could have been worse, the green could have been caused by something inedible!  Still, the thought of fried green fish makes me giggle! 
« Reply #87 on: November 19, 2010 08:09:08 AM »

it still tasted good!!! actually, not long after that mom made us green eggs & ham.... i guess she took the idea & ran with it..... Grin

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« Reply #88 on: December 23, 2010 04:09:29 PM »

My family didnt do any craft stuff when I was a kid, so there was no stash for me to wreck..my mother used to sew and about once every 5 years she would make curtains, i would hang around hopefully for any scraps..I spent all my childhood 'making things' I took the handful of books out of the library, on that topic, out-over and over again and mostly didn't have any of the stuff to make the projects...I had paper and parcel tape, and cheap paints and markers..but the thing about not having much of that stuff is that it does really foster your creativity...it also means that when you grow up, you end up with the biggest stash in the world!

Like so many of you, i cut my dolls hair, painted new make-up on with lipstick, stuck pins in their ears for earrings...I would have been slaughtered if I had cut my own hair..there were a few small writing on the walls incidents..and as hit adolescence I started to sew, I used old blankets, sheets, curtains..but I always asked first...I would have been dead meat if I didn't..

My mother had a crappy (very old) electric sewing machine, and an older, but reliable, hand cranked singer machine, I made everything on that, until the day I knocked it on the floor and broke the handle off. Cast iron doesn't glue back you know!!...My mother was not happy with me..I was not happy as it was bringing an end to my sewing endeavours, until I learned that if I jammed the handle of the bread knife into the wheel, it worked perfectly as a handle..I eventually wore a nice groove in the breadknife..

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« Reply #89 on: January 15, 2011 01:29:04 AM »

Actually.... I was a pretty good child... Now I'm doomed Smiley <3

When I was little, my mother pretty much never sewed.... My grandmother sewed, but I never touched her stash.... I never drew on the walls.... I took good care of my Barbies.... >_> The worst I did was on the inside of one of my closet doors (Theyre slider doors), I wrote "Ass" out of randomness when I was in like 1st or 2nd grade... So then I was worried my mom would be mad at me for it, cuz it was still a bad word at the time (I'm 18 and I have a mouth like a trucker at times, it's kinda ridiculous actually haha... ) so I tried to fix it so it read "Ash" and then I stuck a post it note over it XDDD In my late middle school, early high school years I found the post it note still on the door when I was cleaning my closet and I burst out laughing.... Oh, and my closet carpet is stained pink and hard in one part of it because when I was little I dropped this goo stuff on it... You can make it out of I think corn starch, flour, and water... We made it in pre-K.... I got into my mom's make up once and made myself look like a clown.... However, I was the artistic child, so this would turn out to be useful later in life for my shenanigans Cheesy

I am 18, a senior in high school... These past few years, I've become a goofball. Smiley

I decided in late middleschool, that I wanted to recon clothing, but I didn't wanna use my own, so I constantly pestered my dad to cough up his clothing. XD

Now high school is where it got interesting =) My junior year, over Christmas break, I got the Orange Box.... for the end of break / New Years, I stayed with my biological brothers, and got one of them hooked on Portal (I was addicted too haha), so we played it nonstop... Well... I called my mom while I was still a few hours away in Oregon, right? I'm like "Hey mom, since we're gonna paint my room again this year, I'm gonna draw stuff from Portal on my wall, ok?" Well, we discussed it lightly and I could, but I misunderstood about how I could only do it riiiiiight before we painted.... So when I got home, I jacked a ladder, went into my room, drew a giant companion cube on my wall in marker, drew a cake on my wall, wrote "The cake is a lie" and wrote a giant Portal poem from the game, and then I started drawing the blue Portal, and I was gonna draw the orange one on the other wall, but my mom yelled at me like 5 times to quit drawing and blahblah, but being the artist I am (And I am very much into art, you can find me in the More Art, Less craft board) I refused because I wasn't gonna leave half finished stuff on my wall... -.-

My closet door has doodles on it....

About a month or two, I decided one of my other walls required some art... So I took a sharpie and drew on the wall... After it was there for a while, my dad noticed, just shook his head, and left.... Well... Eventually mom noticed... "ALISON RENEE! HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN HERE?! D<" I lied and said "Oh that's been there for quite a while ^.^" cuz I have so much crazy stuff on my walls that my mom doesn't always notice... hahaha.... Well, about two weeks ago if that, I got bored while I was hot gluing fabric to a gutted hardcover book, so I found some practice knitting, and hot glued it to my wall... Mom hasn't noticed yet luckily...

At some point in time, if my awesome favorite guy friend comes over randomly, he's gonna draw on my wall, me sitting on a throne with our crazy female friend laying in my lap with like a panther or something next to us and something that I forget on the drawing too. XDDD

I'm moving out this year, and I dont think my aunt will be pleased if I draw on her walls, and when I eventually switch over to an apartment, they may sue me for it, so I'll hafta be more careful, but I get bored with boring walls XD;;;

Oh, I also didn't really get into cutting stuff til I got older.

WheN I was in elementary, I only did a bit of haircutting like once... I cut off a lock of hair to prove I was man enough to do it XD Well, in middle school, I gave myself bangs and tried to trim my own hair total fail... In early high school, I still tried to trim my own hair and fix my own layers XD Then junior year I decided I needed a change, right? So I gave myself bangs that were long on one side so I could have them cover my right eye. Well.... I got bored so I gave myself normal bangs, and these like hangy things, and now my hair's longer and fixed up and stuff and I'm avoiding bangs, but I hate my hair a lil. XD I'm itching for a hair cut Grin

Sooo yeah. Smiley

But I'm good about using my own crafting stuff ^_^
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