Tag Archives: Martha Stewart

The Tao of Abby

I recently read “The Tao of Martha” by Jen Lancaster in which she attempts to live her life according to the advice of Martha Stewart with everything from closet organization to party planning. It was an okay read, but that’s not the point.

The point is that as evidenced by my issues with sheets and vacuums, I’m no Martha Stewart.

In fact, the only thing me and M-dawg have in common is that she’s an ex-felon and I commit crimes on a daily basis that would keep the Fashion Police busy if they had any actual authority.

But I would like to think that most people tend to lean a little bit more towards “drawer of shame” instead of “bedazzled closet hangers” on a daily basis. As such, I have decided to do a “modified Martha” version of some of her tips for those other domestically disabled divas out there.

They might not exactly be helpful in a “Watch out, Martha!” sort of way, but at least they’ll help you feel less alone.

Cleaning a Mini-Blind

Martha: If blinds are very dirty, remove them from the window and lay them flat on a drop cloth outside. Scrub closed blinds with a soft brush and warm soapy water. Repeat on the other side; rinse. Open and hang outside to dry.

Me: miniblind

Cleaning a Shower Curtain Liner

Martha: A homemade curtain of ripstop nylon works well. Curtains and plastic liners can be cleaned with laundry detergent in the washing machine, on the gentle cycle.

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Me: We’ve been over this before. Cut down the $5 liner from Target and replace it with a new $5 liner from Target. Much like the mini-blind situation, don’t be a hero.

Making a Cup of Tea

Martha: Gather leaves from a Darjeeling bush. Warm your pot first with steaming water, dump it out, refill it and let it boil. Warm your cups, strain your tea and add a lychee nut to the cup before you sip.

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Me: Fill Hot Shot with water, get impatient before realizing you forgot to hit “start.” Hit start, dispense water and tea bag into cup 1 minute later. Use all available methods for not burning your mouth with the exception of actually waiting for the tea to cool.

Readying Clothes for the Laundry

Martha: Empty pockets and turn them inside out, unfurl socks, and unroll cuffs. Tie sashes and strings to prevent tangling. Place delicate items like lingerie and fine knitwear in zippered mesh bags. Turn delicate items, sweaters, and cotton T-shirts inside out to prevent pilling.

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Me: Throw dirty clothes in the vicinity of the laundry basket and congratulate myself if it goes in. Eventually notice that I’m out of socks, gather laundry surrounding the basket and shove it all in the washer. Forget about it, wash it again and then eventually throw in the dryer.

Making a Cake

Martha: Fancy flourishes and pretty piping really are the icing on the cupcakes. Faux bois, or imitation wood grain, is a favorite motif of Martha’s; it can be applied to chocolate using a wood-graining rocker, found at paint-supply stores.

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Me: Go to the bakery. If you ask really nice, they’ll even decorate it for you.

I think her empire is safe.

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A Match for Martha

I heard that in an interview with Matt Lauer on the “TODAY” show, Martha Stewart, 71, said that she’s had trouble meeting a male friend with benefits and admitted she attempted to (unsuccessfully) join Match.com.

Apparently she loves dating, but the questionnaire seemed impossible and so she’s just going to keep looking on her own.

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Well, I’ve never attempted online dating, but I think I could really help her out with this thing. After all, if weirdo Guy Fieri can find his Gal Fieri, there has to be hope left for Martha.


Username: Martha Stewart

Headline: Lifestyle guru, businesswoman, author, magazine founder and publisher, TV personality and domestic diva seeking companionship and snuggles with someone who appreciates the finer things in life.

Age: A spritely 71

Sign: Leo, which is perfect because I love my Himalayan cats!

Ethnicity: Whitest woman on the planet

Nickname: In prison it was “M. Diddy,” but I would prefer to just go by Martha. Bygones!

Income: Well this is curious! My income range is not represented. No matter. I get by.

Religion: Cleanliness is next to godliness. Also, Dog is my co-pilot. Ha!

Relationships: One ex-husband and several ex-beaus, most notably a software billionaire and Anthony Hopkins, who I had to break it off with after viewing that wretched film, “Silence of the Lambs.” I was unable to avoid associating Hopkins with Hannibal Lecter, a man with absolutely no table manners or sense of proper etiquette.

Children: I’ve had many lovely dogs, cats and horses over the years, but I won’t bore you with those details yet! However, if you’re interested, my two blogging pups, Francesca and Sharkey, have created a photo gallery of all my pets.

Oh, and I have one daughter, Alexis.

Body Type: It depends on what I’m eating, but I prefer an Asti for a light-bodied wine and a Barbaresco for a full-bodied wine.

Celebrity Look-Alike: I’ve been told I could be a mix of that lovely woman who played Murphy Brown (Candice Bergen) and Diane Sawyer.

Smoke: Do you mean salmon? If so, yes. It can make a delightful appetizer when done correctly.

Drink: I love a whiskey sour with fresh juice or a mojito, but it has to be a purple basil mojito and the basil has to be cultivated from my own garden and tended to with painted garden tools.

Hobbies: Anything involving a hot glue gun—decoupage, scrapbooking, creating snow globes out of glass from upcycled chandeliers; knitting blankets from the hair of my prize-winning Chow Chows, baking “green” brownies with my pal Snoop Dogg/Lion out of cupcake tins I’ve created from paperclips and aluminum foil; building a billion-dollar empire and tweeting. I love the Twitter!

Who I’m Looking For: Someone who I can laugh with that knows they can use half a potato to unscrew a broken light bulb. He should love animals, personal transformation and organized bed linens. There’s something incredibly satisfying about opening up the linen closet to see not unholy chaos, but color-coded bundles neatly tied in a bow.

Note: Stockbrokers and actors who have portrayed cannibals need not apply.


I think it’s pretty solid and can only imagine that the men would be lining up.  And if all else fails, I’m pretty sure she could try Craig’s List or get cast on “The Bachelorette.”

Martha might just meet her match.

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Ba Ha-Ha-Humbug

It’s the most wonderful time of the year!

While I would debate that fact for several reasons—that is neither here nor there—as the holiday season is here and there, and with it comes a variety of expectations. You see, we are often presented with “ideal” situations that in reality, fall a bit short.

But have no festive fear! No holiday season is perfect, and as long as you don’t hold things to the ridiculous standard often presented to us, your expectations will surely be met.

The Meals

Expectation: Martha Stewart is truly a genius in that she makes her beautiful soirees look elegant and effortless—and calls them “soirees” and not “dysfunctional family functions.” The food is perfect, the conversation is jovial and no one’s career choice, sexual preference or bodily functions are discussed.

And no one ends up drunk under the tree.

Reality: There will not be enough chairs. Someone will pronounce “hors d’oeuvres” as “whores de-vores” (that would be me). The food will be good, but conversation will cover someone’s career choice, sexual preference or bodily functions. There will be a debate over whether the plastic silverware can be reused for Easter and whether it’s pronounced “PEE-cons” or “pick-ONS,” which will lead to an inappropriate joke about nuts from that one creepy uncle.

Romantic Gifts (as presented in jewelry ads)

Expectation: Cue cheesy background music and a setting that involves a fireplace and gently falling snow. Two people are casually huddled around the tree with hot cocoa as he pulls out a small box to surprise her with a rock of some sort. They kiss and live happily ever after.

Reality: What they don’t show you is that later he poses under the mistletoe wearing nothing but a well-placed Santa hat, thinking that small little box with the bow has earned him at least a few nights of appreciation. She will be too busy tweeting a picture of the ring to show off to her friends to notice him—or care when she does—meaning the ornaments on the tree won’t be the only blue balls in the room.

Exterior Illumination

Expectation: That your house can be perfectly decorated with thousands of twinkling lights and décor in no time at all, with your handiwork serving as a beacon of light for all other holidays revelers.

You will never have to launch an investigation over this carnage. But on a positive note, Frosty has been fixed. A Festivus miracle!

Reality: Despite trying to put the light strings away “neatly” last year, they will come out of the storage container in an arrangement that looks suspiciously like a Noel noose made of tangled up wires. The ordeal will begin with a joke to make sure to call 911 if you fall off the ladder—ha, ha, ha!—and end with a simple wreath on the door after the discovery that half of the bulbs just don’t work, despite testing each one and hanging them up.

But even though most will experience a less-than perfect meal, sub-par gifts (make donations, not debts people) and defunct decorations, remember what’s truly important—family, friends and your holiday spirit(s).

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Arts & Crap

Not that she’s worried about it, but just like Heloise, Martha Stewart can sleep well at night knowing I am in no way going to wrestle her to the ground for her crafty crown.

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I did make these, but we’ll get back to them in a minute.

Let me back up and say that I’m actually kind of artistic. When I was little I was always drawing, painting, changing the interior decorating in my Barbie house or doing something creative with my Tupperware containers full of art supplies.

But as I got older, I traded in my blue box of Mr. Sketch scented markers for sports equipment and foam balls to put in my shirt for impromptu Mariah Carey concerts given on the front lawn. It’s not that I ever lost that creative spark; I just put it on the shelf for a while and replaced it with other forms of artistic expression…like painting my living room and coloring my hair.

With that said, the past couple of years I’ve tried to be crafty in an attempt to also be charitable.

Our senior friends love anything you make for them, so I’ve taken to going to Michael’s and investing a few bucks in “simple” crafts that can be given to the old people.

Before you get too impressed, let me be clear that we’re not talking about intricate needlepoint—I can’t be trusted with sharp objects—but rather a variety of foam decorations that can be displayed or attached to my super simple pretzel treats, also known as geriatric crack.

There have been pumpkins, turkeys, wreaths, hearts—you name it, I’ve foamed it, farmed it out and have the glitter still stuck in my dining room rug to prove it. But the latest project—mini Easter baskets—once again cemented the fact that I am no Martha Stewart.

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Check that. It “super glued” the fact that I am no Martha Stewart.

I artfully placed my supplies on a towel on my dining room table and began crafting, creating little foam Easter baskets from the 132 pieces that were supplied to me, secure in the knowledge printed on the box that no glue was required and anyone over the age of 4 could easily complete the craft.

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Long story short, I completed the craft only to find out the next night that all the crap that DIDN’T NEED TO BE GLUED had peeled off the baskets and basically fallen off.

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This did not please me. I went to the Dollar Store and got super glue, maniacally gluing each and every piece of foam back to the carefully constructed baskets, holding down each piece for the 15 seconds the tube recommended.

The good news? I only glued my fingers together twice.

The bad news? It took me entirely too long to do a simple craft that some lunatic in the foam factory thinks a 4-year-old could do with NO GLUE and I found a leftover sticky foam flower stuck to the ass of my yoga pants a couple hours later.

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Plus, things still kind of peeled off.

But when you add in pretzel treats stuffed into Easter bags from the Dollar Store, you have an inexpensive, festive, chocolaty treat for a bunch of old people who probably won’t notice a slightly detached flower petal due to cataracts and a “go-for-the-chocolate” crazed look in their eyes.

So to summarize, I’m artistically somewhere between Martha Stewart and a 4-year-old and I deal out geriatric crack (pretzel treats) in super glued foam Easter baskets.

I do believe Martha is safe. 

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