Damn you, Martha!

I’m collecting a friend’s mail while she’s in Morocco caring for special needs orphans. (Yes, really. I know. That’s right. The rest of us are going to hell. I’m aware.) But back to me. The joy of collecting her mail is reading her magazines. I read all the good ones first – the ones about makeup and boys because, let’s face it, when it comes to magazines, I’m still 12. I read them until nothing is left but the Martha Stewart.

Then I read the Martha. (I know. I know, but I needed something new for the bathroom.)

Here’s the thing.

Lean in closer.

No, closer.

I don’t want anyone else to hear.

It’s a secret.

You ready?

I kind of…sort of…liked it.

I know. I KNOW! It’s like I don’t even know me anymore.

But those sheets are so organized! She puts the whole set INSIDE the matching pillowcase. Why didn’t I think of that? Also, did you know you can cover a cake with pretty candies? I did not. I feel this was a secret that was being kept from me. Also I can use buckets for trash cans AND umbrella holders – not that you really need an umbrella holder in L.A.

One magazine, and it’s like I need deprogramming.

Damn you, Martha!