That's how I felt this weekend at Oddmall, Seattle's first craft festival for unusual artists. There I was, in my colorful little booth (once again co-manned by Mr. Upcycler), all smiles and upbeat attitude. No dragons or Dr. Who or skulls here. And I stuck out like a sore thumb. No, even a sore thumb would've fit in better.
Early Sunday morning, we drove, bleary-eyed, to the convention center in Lynnwood, a very suburby-suburb north of Seattle. It's the last place you'd expect to see a body piercings and ceramic bongs.
|Getting up early really takes its toll.|
|A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down...the road.|
|His credit card was rejected.|
Because our booth was pretty simple (and we'd practiced setting it up), I had time to tour the large venue and check out all the other vendors before the show opened. I admit it, I was looking for someone -- anyone -- as ordinary as I was.
|I thought my shirt was pretty out-there and mod.|
|The extra "p" and "e" in the shop name makes everything ok.|
|It's bad when the alien is the most normal guy in the crowd.|
|Was the Hardy Boys' Junk part |
of your childhood?
Suddenly, I realized that my nostalgia-packed booth was the Lawrence Welk of OddMall. (That old-timey reference just proves my point.) Comforting and safe and asexual. OMG. I'm not even one of the students at middle school! I'm one of the lunch ladies!
|Actually, both my grandmothers were lunch ladies -- and amazing chefs -- so I have no problem being one too. That's my tough, smart maternal grandmother on the far left. She lived to be 100!|