The glitteriness has even invaded my work.
And I want more. The glitter has penetrated my brain. While not working feverishly prepping for WHAM, I've been thumbing through my latest issues of Martha Stewart's Living, creating and recreating my holiday baking list* and searching Etsy for vintage European glass glitter.
Sneak peek at adorable new necklaces debuting at WHAM. I'm saving a black bear one for myself. Booyah.
I love Martha. As a child, I loved watching her show and drooling over all the crafty possibilities. Everything was so neat and tidy and trim. All her recipe ingredients were always so prettily laid out in their respective pastel colored bowls waiting their turn to dive into the giant mixing bowl of wonderment. Through the magic of television, her oven worked at warp speed and cookie dough in lead to perfect cookies out in a matter of seconds. I even loved her dogs. They were chow chows. Chows. CHOWS.
Not even her blip in jail could mar my fandom. When asked which people living or deceased I'd like to have dinner with; Martha always makes the list. And not just because she'd bring the most perfect blueberry muffins known to man.
I bet she smells like cinnamon and glue sticks.
I'm no Martha. But I strive to be. One glitter jar at a time.**
*Currently: Chocolate chip cookies, jam thumbprints, gingerbread mini loafs, peppermint bark and iced sugar cookies. WHAT.
**I'll stop before my Martha gushing goes into creepy territory.