Bead Fest--the name says it all. There are beads. The atmosphere is festive and so is the tacky jewelry revelers made to show off to our fellow lovers of small shiny objects.
Last year, I paid for my Bead Fest admission in advance, and a ticket for my daughter. A co-worker agreed to work for me. A couple of days before the Saturday I planned to travel, bad weather jammed up flights so there was no room for us and the co-worker bailed as well. I vowed to go the next year.
This year I had plenty of time and the weather was perfect, no problem getting there or back, but I went alone. I used to think it would be nice to travel alone. I could see only what I wanted to see, not waste time on things that did not interest me. Now I would rather go with a buddy. Maybe I'll get married again. Bead Fest had a lounge area inhabited by sullen husbands wearing official tags indicating they paid for the privilege of sitting on official Bead Fest sofas, watching middle aged women pour past.
I've been suffering from nightstalker syndrome for months--up all night, sleep all day. The night before I left, I should have been sleeping, but I wasn't so I spent the day like a zombie, only more irritated by the smallest things. Unlike a zombie, I couldn't kill the people who got in my way and there was a lot of that. The people who set the place up made it like a cow pen, a bunch of blind alleys where all of us fatties pushed together at the most popular displays. Also unlike a zombie, I do not have special powers. At this weight, I have no powers at all, except the power to crush the competition as it were, not a power I would use in public. I wouldn't want to knock over a rack of beads. Plus, travel requires walking, a lot of walking yesterday, unless you can afford a driver. On my budget, I couldn't even afford a rental car and spent considerable time waiting for trains and buses. I missed my bus stop on the way to the convention center and ended up at Valley Forge. I should have taken a tour while I was there. Now I have to go back. I have a post-mortem crush on George Washington.
So next year (oh yes, I will go again), I know what to expect. First, I will not be this fat. I will not travel again until I loose fifty pounds. It's not fair to myself to go to the trouble of planning a trip and getting ready only to be miserable and limited because I am so fat. Second, I will sleep the night before. I was no fun to be around, I can tell you that. Next, I will save money. I saw a lot of beautiful beads and cabochons I would love to buy but I am too broke. I thought there would be bargains but everything there cost as much as it does in bead stores or online. The advantage is the sheer volume of selections available. Bead stores around here may carry a few seed beads or even, as in the case of Gu's Haus of Beads, a lot of seed beads, but there were stalls with every seed bead and seed bead paraphernalia known to God and man. Every color, every finish, every size and shape. They had white beads with gold centers. I kid you not. I had never seen them before and they had them in every size! Take a breath, Mary. I will take a shopping list of items to complete projects. I did that this year, but I didn't buy much. I knew I needed heavy gauge wire and a chat with the Softflex people about it, got a tube of crystal clear seed beads I needed for a stained glass inspired project, etc. I wanted Grace Ma beads and Thai beads. Maybe next year. And next year I will rent a car at the airport. The bus/train combo wasn't that much longer, but it would be nice to have a car handy for a trip to Valley Forge and the mega mall in King of Prussia. I will make a vacation of it and stay at the Radisson where the convention center is located. I forgot how much I detest crowds until I was in the middle of one. It would be nice to have a place to hide and suck my thumb when the mobs get to me.
Bead Fest 2011—who’s coming with me?
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