Today I must add one more store to my list of stores I can no longer patronize because of Martha Stewart. That brings the list to TWO stores. Count em! 2.
Something snaps deep in my psyche that prompts me to throw my body across displays of products that wear the Martha Stewart name yelling "Mine! Back off WHORE! I'll kick your children!" One can be forcibly thrown from K-Mart only a couple of times before starting to take it personally.
The woman has a strange power over me. I was watching her talk show yesterday and found myself suppressing an urge to make a succulent wreath. Why? I have NO CLUE! But she did it, and by definition that makes it neat-o and I. Must. Be. Like. Martha. I took a few deep breaths until the urge was manageable. I did not jump through the sun roof on my car (cause who could be bothered to open a door when there are succulents waiting to be planted. WAITING!) in a effort to shave a few seconds from the driving time to the closest Home Depot.
I made it through the commercial break and was ready for the next segment when she dropped a bombshell. Michael's is now carrying her line of craft supplies. The information barely escaped her lips when I was downstairs sliding across the hood of my Beetle reminiscent of Beau Duke (no small feat, which was weird considering its a very small car). Once in my car the race was on. I was weaving in and out of traffic, running red lights (okay not running red lights, I'm totally paranoid of the cameras that mail you traffic tickets(and yes I know the cameras do not actually MAIL you the ticket) (its the ticket fairy that lives in the camera who gets all giddy when people speed through yellow lights))).
I made it to Michael's. I skid through the automatic doors and did a face plant directly in front of the Martha Stewart display. Mothers and children scattered in all directions, and that left me gloriously alone to browse and touch every single thing on the wall-o-Martha crafts. One hour and fifteen minutes later I left the store weighed down by hole punches, stickers, paper, and glue. I walk out of the store bursting with creative ideas on how to use her $6 a roll wrapping paper for something other than gifts. The entire drive home I was debating the millions of uses for a one inch circle hole punch and how I had survived almost three decades without it. I skipped up to my apartment walked through the door and noticed that America's Next Top Model had started without me. Then of course LOST was on. Long story short. The hole punch. paper, stickers, and glue remain in a bag on my kitchen table.