Words for My Enjoyment

I Could Be Your Extreme Scrapbooker

November 1st, 2006

I would have sixty-five kinds of scissors.

Each pair wouldn’t have straight edges like the normal everyday scissors that our forefathers invented… No, they’d have edges that would cut paper to look like snowflakes and doilies, rug edges and frayed fabric. I’d have a belt that held just glue sticks, a locket containing sparkles and pre-cut out letters in a variety of frilly-fonts just for that special header for that special occasion. I would be, for all intents and purposes — your go to guy in the world of paper.

And those would just be a few of the reasons you would consider me to be your extreme scrapbooker.

“After I get done with you, no one will consider this book scrap,” I’d whisper to you while unloading a 50 lb. backpack filled with gumdrops and cloth borders and homemade 3D header icons that pop off the page. I’d make sure you knew that the reason the term “scrapbooking” seemed to take hold so well and weasel its way into the country’s lexicon was because most people’s scrapbooks (if finished at all) are more worthwhile as a firestarter than anything else.

But the term scrapbooking was coined before I (your extreme scrapbooker) ever announced his ESC (extreme scrapbooking candidacy).

I would charge $250 an hour and would come straight to your home where I would look at your half-assed scrapbooks and open them with one hand in mid-air and let all the un-glued crap fall to the ground. You would watch me and I would look down at you with the kind of snotty ‘tude most French designers toss at American ingenuity. I would proudly call out my favorite EST (extreme scrapbooking tagline), “if stuff falls out that you can see, your only hope is little ‘ol me,” and then I’d let your crappy scrapbook fall to the floor where I’d step over it with the kind of superior scrapbooking attitude you’re paying $250 an hour for.

You, like most people, would be giddy knowing that your education was about to begin.

I would outline the five most important steps in crafting a truly memorable, high-quality scrapbook. They would include (1) not being cheap, (2) using sparkles whenever possible, (3) owning more scissors than the Supercuts corporation, (4) having an ego the size of Texas, and (5) listening to me, your extreme scrapbooker. If you could do those things, you would be well on your way to crafting a Bar Mitzvah booklet or a Party pamphlet that the rest of those whining, menopausal, glue-stick happy retirees would be impressed with…NAY, jealous of.

You would also have to call me Sir ES (pronounced: sir eeeeees).

I would teach you the right way to use a scissor (with your eyes closed) in order to create a truly unparalleled and chaotic (yet refreshingly creative) look. I would spit on pre-fashioned 3D icons (cakes, bears, writing pads, christmas trees, reindeer, baby dolls, cookies and other food products) that come in a sealed mylar bag and that hang in retail shops that charge you $7 per piece. But I would suck up the spit on self-fashioned 3D icons utilizing household objects and stolen mylar bags that hang in retail shops with lax security and no shoplifting policy whatsoever. I would warn you against listening to Enya while crafting, Stephen Curtis Chapman while cutting, and listening to friends who think they’re God’s gift to scrapbooking at any time, on any day, in any state or city throughout the world.

Then I’d wink to you and say nothing, furthering the mystery of my ESP (extreme scrapbooking personality).

While the ESC of Sir ES would fully benefit from my ESP, there would be the quiet times when I’d try to let you share center stage with me in your moldy-basement CCC (creative corner cubicle) and I’d even guide your hand and show you how to best stroke that glue stick. There would be times I might even compliment you on your wonderful “Day at the Beach with Baby” layout, if not only because all faces were obscured by sparkles but due to the fact that all your pictures’ edges resembled the rocky surface of Mars, the planet (a suggestion I made that you accepted by using scissor #54). And while I was eating everything out of your fridge upstairs (including your awesome tuna noodle casserole), I’d probably let you do your thing for about 10 minutes without a criticism whatsoever.

In the ES business, we call that having a mastery of the ESL (extreme scrapbooking laxability).

But in being your extreme scrapbooker, you would have to understand that sometimes your ideas would be considered, well…crappy. Drawing suns, teddy bears, marquees, rattles, dogs, dolls, top hats, make-up containers, cakes, wedding dresses or cutting out pictures of any (or all) of the above items would result in a hand-slap the likes of which you’ve never felt (the ESS, or extreme scrapbooking slap). Suggesting that pages contain nothing but pictures to infuse a kind of “minimalist feel” will result in a loud cough, brief ESS and a painful ESPD (extreme scrapbooking put down) to snap you out of your egotistical mode. And if you ever mention using a Sharpie Metallic Silver Marker in my presence… Well…

I’d be out the door in a second flat using my ESWOS (extreme scrapbooking walk-out shuffle).

Sure, it might be tough on the ego and you might not be 100% satisfied with your scrapbooks final condition — but that wouldn’t mean the final product wouldn’t be the best thing ever (according to me). And in the end, isn’t that the reason you’re paying me $250 an hour? It’s not about you in the ESW (extreme scrapbooking world) but it’s about how people see you and your books. It’s about, for once in your life, putting out a scrapbook that’s not crap, that’s less scrap and that’s more exciting than ever before.

An excitobook, if I may be so bold. Which happens to be a EST (extreme scrapbooking term) I coined (and registered) by my lonesome.

It’s no wonder, that with such talent, I could be your extreme scrapbooker.

Posted under I Could Be, Scrapbooking. |