Martha Stewart, to be exact.
Only here's the thing - I don't think that Martha loved me back.
All her crafts, her recipes, her suggestions? I busted my ass, time and again. She didn't care.
Nothing, nothing, NOTHING was ever like it was supposed to look, to be, to taste. She just smiled at me with her smug, effortless grin.
She made my anxiety/perfectionism levels go to Red Alert (even as I think about this now, my blood pressure's going up a bit).
Nothing, nothing, NOTHING was ever like it was supposed to look, to be, to taste. She just smiled at me with her smug, effortless grin.
She made my anxiety/perfectionism levels go to Red Alert (even as I think about this now, my blood pressure's going up a bit).
The writing (in a lavish Gregorian Monk Scroll font) was on the wall (stacked Corsican slate, roughly mortared by Connecticut artisans) - we had to break up.
And then I found Real Simple magazine. Which lives up to its title. The recipes always work out, the suggestions are down-to-earth, for real folk in a real world. I don't need a staff of 40 to make it happen.
Another bonus, which I had completely forgot about until I picked it up again this month, is that the spine of the magazine has a quote on it. So when you've got them stacked up on a shelf, you've got a lovely series of quotes to inspire you.
Another bonus, which I had completely forgot about until I picked it up again this month, is that the spine of the magazine has a quote on it. So when you've got them stacked up on a shelf, you've got a lovely series of quotes to inspire you.
This month's is from Eldridge Cleaver:
"Too much agreement kills a chat."
From an ex-Martha sycophant, I couldn't agree more.
9 comments:
I LOVE Real Simple magazine. And, while I know many people loathe her, I like Rachel Ray because her stuff is so simple, too.
Countess Sandi: I USED to like Rachel Ray until she-who-must-not be-named swallowed her up into her cult, and Ray Ray went all corporate. Not that I don't wish her every success, but when your love life gets splashed on the cover of The Enquirer (I swear I only read this in line at the grocery store - my subscription expired months ago...), the bloom is kinda off the rose.
Really? Martha Stewart? I wouldn't have guessed that. Personally, I can't stand the smug woman! See? I am not agreeing with you, so I must not kill the chat! ;0)
Countess iPost: Both I and Mr. Cleaver are very pleased with you!
I frequently give Real Simple subscriptions to my friends for birthday gifts (isn't that Martha Stewart-like of me?). I've been reading that magazine for years! I confess I still have tension filled dreams about Martha though...
On a vaguely related note, last week I pulled a basic cookie recipe off the Internetz as I have been having these crazy urges to bake things lately. Let's just say I tried this recipe TWICE and nothing even vaguely resembling cookies emerged. I ate them anyway. I mean they still tasted ok even if they looked like crap. I think Martha may have been behind them...
You are so funny. Martha is one harsh babe. Believe me. And she is tougher on herself more than anyone else. I like you just the way you are;)
I must look up this Real Simple Magazine, it sounds delightful. Plus I love quotes. Of course Martha and I will never separate. Because Martha and I? We're like this. Ask her, she'll tell you. And if you say Joy sent you to ask and she says something about a restraining order? You just ignore her. The little joker she is.
Countess Mathematique: So what do I have to do get on this friend list of yours - I'd LOVE a Real Simple subscription; I let mine lapse and am missing it terribly.
I will still admit to being a perfectionist about some things - Martha can't take the credit for that - I've been that way forever. I just don't need her raising the bar so freakishly high.
Guv: Don't you wonder if maybe top chefs leave out some vital piece of information, so we couldn't possibly join their rank of cookie making? Yet another one of my conspiracy theories - glad to hear you're on board with me here.
Countess Mama: Please, please, please don't tell me you know her.
I know she's driven by a internal force that is inexplicable to anyone but herself. And that the ladder climb up to her self-made pedestal is a lonely one. I get that. Maybe I'm just insanely jealous that she lived on Turkey Farm, and I just eat turkey.
Countess of Tea: Sometimes, your friends don't choose you. You choose them. I'm sure your and Martha's friendship isn't the slightest bit odd or creepy. Right?
(although it must be a tad difficult to sit and gossip and braid each others' hair from 100 feet away...)
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