Several years ago while traveling with friends, I was given a new nickname. It may have been deserved; I may have earned it. But for some reason, to this day I still resist it. My nickname? Martha Stewart. Martha F. Stewart to be exact (yes, I’m afraid the F stands for what you think it stands for).
I am a forward thinker, a planner extraordinaire, and pretty detail-oriented. Especially when traveling. I plan and pack outfits. I know ahead of time what top I’ll wear with what bottom, and I always have at least one extra outfit. I usually pack my pajamas on the top because they’re what will be taken out and worn first. I have the travel sized bottle of Downy spray wrinkle remover that stays in my suitcase. I keep a toiletry bag partially ready all the time. It holds all my TSA approved bottles, a toothbrush, etc. And I always tuck a small pair of scissors in my suitcase. And that’s where this story started.
I had already taken a little bit of heat. I had one more suitcase than everyone else, but we were visiting my son in England and it was his birthday. I was taking him his gifts. (That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.) And I had taken several travel/city guides with me. Not so out of the ordinary, right? But the highlighter pens with the little Post-it flags built into them had just come out, and I had a couple of them (1 yellow and 1 pink I think). I had probably marked some pages in my guide books, and I caught some grief over that.
Then one evening when we had returned from our day out sightseeing, one of my friends commented that she wished she had a pair of scissors because she needed to trim her hair. Now her version of the story is that I pulled out three different pairs of hair cutting scissors, which isn’t true. I don’t own three pairs of hair cutting scissors. But I did have scissors, and that was all it took. From that moment on, I’ve been “Martha.”
I am still referred to as “Martha,” or MFS, fairly often - if I send my friends homemade cards, or if I cook for them, or if I redecorate some portion of my house - I hear, “Well what do you expect? It’s from Martha.”
But I have to argue. Doesn’t this sound more like Mary Poppins? I mean Mary Poppins had that special carpet bag. She pulled a coat tree and a plant and a floor lamp out of that thing! No one would have been surprised had she produced a pair of scissors. And (I apologize to the real Martha) Mary Poppins just seems so much nicer. And younger. And prettier. Can’t I please be Mary Poppins instead?
But seriously. I have the best friends. They love and appreciate me for me, whether I’m MFS or MP. And that’s a very good thing.
I am a forward thinker, a planner extraordinaire, and pretty detail-oriented. Especially when traveling. I plan and pack outfits. I know ahead of time what top I’ll wear with what bottom, and I always have at least one extra outfit. I usually pack my pajamas on the top because they’re what will be taken out and worn first. I have the travel sized bottle of Downy spray wrinkle remover that stays in my suitcase. I keep a toiletry bag partially ready all the time. It holds all my TSA approved bottles, a toothbrush, etc. And I always tuck a small pair of scissors in my suitcase. And that’s where this story started.
I had already taken a little bit of heat. I had one more suitcase than everyone else, but we were visiting my son in England and it was his birthday. I was taking him his gifts. (That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.) And I had taken several travel/city guides with me. Not so out of the ordinary, right? But the highlighter pens with the little Post-it flags built into them had just come out, and I had a couple of them (1 yellow and 1 pink I think). I had probably marked some pages in my guide books, and I caught some grief over that.
Then one evening when we had returned from our day out sightseeing, one of my friends commented that she wished she had a pair of scissors because she needed to trim her hair. Now her version of the story is that I pulled out three different pairs of hair cutting scissors, which isn’t true. I don’t own three pairs of hair cutting scissors. But I did have scissors, and that was all it took. From that moment on, I’ve been “Martha.”
I am still referred to as “Martha,” or MFS, fairly often - if I send my friends homemade cards, or if I cook for them, or if I redecorate some portion of my house - I hear, “Well what do you expect? It’s from Martha.”
But I have to argue. Doesn’t this sound more like Mary Poppins? I mean Mary Poppins had that special carpet bag. She pulled a coat tree and a plant and a floor lamp out of that thing! No one would have been surprised had she produced a pair of scissors. And (I apologize to the real Martha) Mary Poppins just seems so much nicer. And younger. And prettier. Can’t I please be Mary Poppins instead?
But seriously. I have the best friends. They love and appreciate me for me, whether I’m MFS or MP. And that’s a very good thing.
aka Martha
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ok, all that planning and packing and being organized is just sick and wrong, but i would LOVE to be called MFS. :-) cuz i do some things like her. my kitchen was on apartment therapy. (just don't look at my laundry room.) :-)
ReplyDeleteI saw your kitchen on apartment therapy a short while back. very bright and cheery! and warm and cozy! and inviting!
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