The Day I Was Martha Stewart, And Some Editorial Letters Of Complaint And Otherwise

Yesterday, I was totally Martha Stewart. I had the day off and when I woke up, I said to myself 'You will do great things today.' (I'm thinking about getting a second job writing fortunes for cookies.)

So after straightening things up, because how can Martha Stewart function in hectic space?, I did what Martha would do and updated my residency status with the school I'll be going to.

Then I went home and made THESE!!!

My glass jar is no longer naked!!! Exciting, right?

Can I get another view of it please? Thank you.

These were so SO fun to make! And easy. You can make these faster than you could say 'I said crushed ice, not shaved ice! You're fired! You'll never work in my crafting/decorating/baking/making women feel inferior empire EVER AGAIN!!'  (Also, it's good to work on these while watching maybe 4 episodes of 'Lost' in a row, because not only are you learning to become paranoid but you're making something at the same time! Hello multi-tasking!)
Oh, since Rachel is the one who suggested these, Rachel gets cookies. What kind would you like my dear?

Okay now, please, everyone put down the awards you want to give me for being some kind of fantastic Mormon housewife. It was very out of the norm for me to be doing something like this. I rather liked it though. She had me at thumbtacks and spray paint...

And that was how I was Martha Stewart.

Moving on, my husband is wonderful and brought this home for me

Not the frame. I had that. The thing IN it. (I especially like how you can see me lurking in the background.)


And now for some letters to (or maybe from) the editor.

Dear Mother Nature,
You were kindly told to go away, and yet you returned. Please leave and stay away for nine months. That is all.
Best regards,
My Uterus

Dear Nice People,
Do you have any idea what a difference it makes when you smile or say thank you or tell me to have a nice day? Seriously. It makes a world of a difference in a long line of mean people.
With all of our love and devotion,
Anyone Who Has Ever Worked In Customer Service

Dear Mike,
Thank you for putting up with the Christmas music.
Your Wife

Speaking of that scalliwag...

Me: I hereby declare that we shall have that frozen pizza for dinner! And it shall come to pass!!
(Mike shakes his head)
Me: What? WHAT? Do you have something you want to say to me?
Mike: Don't hit that Indian kid.
(I was backing out of a parking spot at Wal Mart. And don't worry. I didn't hit him.)