The Chair Nazi

I'm afraid that today was the last sunny day we will have for a while. I couldn't believe it when I saw that it snowed in Utah today--and then I checked the weather, and it is supposed to snow here on Saturday. And we're supposed to have "strong thunderstorms with large hail and possible tornadoes" tomorrow. I knew that the beautiful, perfect weather we've had for the last three days was too good to be true.

Not only will the weather be changing, but the mood amongst my compadres is quickly turning stormy as well. I am soooooooooooooooooooooooo mad right now, but luckily now I am home watching the NCAA championship basketball game (go Memphis!), trying to unwind a little bit. Kristin has become a total control freak. And when I say freak, I mean FREAK. I literally think she has gone insane and should be banned from working on the exhibit.

I will try to explain the situation, but I am so mad that I might not make any sense. So, remember the stupid train cars? Well, the issue lately has been how to decorate them. Kristen and Sarah were talking about building and upholstering these ornate chairs and benches to put inside the train cars. Okay--problem #1: none of us know how to build fancy chairs and/or upholster furniture. Problem #2: Even if we could make said chairs, materials for them would be expensive, and we don't have any money. Problem #3: The exhibit opens in 12 days and we still have a lot of other stuff to do--like GET THE ARTIFACTS THAT WE'RE GOING TO DISPLAY!! And we're worrying about making some stupid chairs??????

I truly believe that Catherine, Laurie, and I are the last three sane, rational people out of the 10 of us. As we heard Kristen's ideas for making chairs today, the three of us said no-way. Catherine and I determined that it would be a lot easier and more likely that we could find a chair at a thrift store or antique store--and it would cost a lot less. So, Catherine and I went shopping today after class. We went to the Charleston Community Thrift Store, and there before our eyes was the PERFECT chair!!! It is a 1930s-style pine chair covered in leather, and it's got these cool old brass finials on top. It looks just like something you see in pictures of 1920s and 30s train cars. The best thing of all--guess how much it was: $2.00. Perfect. Problem solved, right? No. That would be way too simple.

I went to work with Dr. Hardeman this afternoon (the funniest thing I read in student papers today was the Robert E. Lee was the commander of the Union army), and Dr. Hardeman asked how the exhibit planning was coming. I told him about the train car and that my classmates wanted to build some chairs. He thought that was so funny. He said, "Building train cars and furniture is something that skilled craftsmen who have studied that stuff do. You guys haven't studied that stuff." I said, "Exactly. We don't know what we're doing." He said, "Mr. Riccio should not have gone along with that idea." I said, "Exactly." Dr. Hardeman was getting distraught just listening to me talk about how the whole train car thing was unfolding. "But," I said, "Catherine and I found a chair for $2.00 today, so now thankfully nobody will be building any chairs." Well, ha ha, I was wrong.

I went back to the lab this evening where Catherine and I had dropped off the chair. Everyone was really excited about it--except for Kristen and Sarah. Kristen said, "That's not the look we're going for." Well, it's a little too late to be that freaking picky! Then Kristen said, "Besides, Sarah and I already made an executive decision today, and we bought all of the materials to make a chair." I said, "You don't know how to make a chair!!!" She said, "Well, we can figure out. You guys don't have to help. We already have a plan to make some round cushions and some claw-foot feet for the chair." Catherine and I were speechless. It would have been really funny if Kristen was joking, but she wasn't. When we could finally speak, we said, "You're seriously not going to use this perfect chair? You're going to waste a lot of time bending wood and sewing some freaking cushions????!!! And you bought all of the materials with money we don't have???" (Everyone else was just sitting there watching the smack-down unfold.) Kristen said, "Well, it was nice of you guys to pick up the chair today, but we're not going to use it. You can keep it." Catherine and I both said, "Okay, this is crazy. This chair is perfectly fine." Then, Kristen got really upset and yelled in a really snotty voice: "You guys! We've already decided. WE'RE GOING TO BUILD THE CHAIR. So just forget about it. Will you guys just drop it already? Just stop talking about it." There was a really, really, really, really awkward moment of silence after that. Catherine and I looked at each other in disbelief. Our faces and Kristen's were red with anger. I just rolled my eyes and said, "You've got to be kidding me. This is so stupid." Catherine said, "Well, you guys are on your own then." And then Kristen tried to just go happily along like nothing had happened tonight, but Catherine and I were soooooooo mad, and everyone else was too scared to say anything. Anyway, it was really weird, and we are realizing that Kristen is turning into a control freak, and she's not going to stop until everything turns out just like she sees it in her mind. BUT, the key is that the night before the exhibit opens, when Sarah and Kristen are trying to bend wood and sew cushions and they tell us that they need our help, WE WILL NOT HELP. I am more than happy to do my share in putting up the exhibit, but I'm not going to contribute to the stupid ego trip projects that Kristen, the Chair Nazi, insists on doing.

Not only do we have to get the exhibit ready, we also have like three papers to write, archives projects to do, and a whole bunch of other stuff. Catherine and I stepped outside for a few minutes tonight to decompress and tell each other that there really is still some sanity in the world, and then I came home. Okay, well, I feel much better after venting about this. But it's going to be a really, really, really, really long week, and next week when we're installing the exhibit, I'm afraid we're going to encounter a few "severe thunderstorms" amongst ourselves.

Oh, and one more thing: Alisha has conveniently contracted a "hernia," and has doctor's orders to not lift anything or bend over. I remember when my sister Sarah had a hernia--which was zero, zero, zero fun for her--and though I am not a doctor, I can tell you right now that Alisha does not have a hernia. It was soooo funny this morning though. Alisha came into Dr. Small's class carrying her ridiculously big shoulder bag full of books and her laptop, and plopped it down on the table with a big sigh like she always does (she wants everyone to know how heavy her bag is). Then, Dr. Small said in a stern voice, "Alisha. I thought you couldn't lift anything heavy." Alisha's face went really red, and she was trying to think of something to say, but she couldn't, so she just smiled and sat down. It was really quite enjoyable. Anyway, we're all going insane and I don't think we'll survive for four more weeks with each other.