It's A Good Thing

Sometime last night, between hot-gluing dried hydrangea blossoms to raffia ribbon and trying to decide between the waved and the scalloped crinkle-cut scissors, I realized I was turning into Martha Stewart.

Except with more alcohol and less elasticized mom-jeans.

I’ve always been an artsy-craftsy type but usually, way more emphasis is laid on the “artsy” side as opposed to the “craftsy” side.

As in, okay, I’ve been caught decoupageing before, but in my defense, I was very drunk and anyway, isn’t that what college is for? Experimenting?!?

But I give you my word that the only time I ever went down the scrapbooking aisle was when I got lost one day while looking for paint.
Acrylic paint, bitches.
Black.
Like my soul.
To paint bad-ass things.
(Because CLEARLY I am way too hardcore to scrapbook.)

So there I was last night, using crinkle scissors and raffia and a hole-puncher in the shape of a teeny, tiny leaf, and I was completely torn.

Half of me was happy as a pig in shit, and half of me wanted to punch myself in the face for being as happy as a pig in shit.

It was like, instead of having an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other, I had Martha Stewart standing on my right and Chuck Norris wrecking shop on my left (because Chuck Norris doesn’t stand on the floor; he bends the floor to his will).

Martha: You know, a little gold sparkle spray paint could really make those hydrangea blossoms stand out.
Chuck: This is ridiculous. You need to go round-house kick something. Immediately.
Martha: And these doilies here? You could fold them into paper birds and hand-write little notes on each of them to give to your guests as a way of saying thanks.
Chuck: I once killed a man with a doily. I can show you how.
Martha: And what doesn’t say “fall wedding” like hand-woven wreaths made from wheat? You could even incorporate indigenous wildflowers to add some color and a pleasant scent. Let’s go research which flowers symbolized fertility to the Native American tribes that were known to inhabit this area!
Chuck: You know what really says “fall wedding?” Decapitated human heads on stakes by your front door. Let’s go get some.

Suffice to say, I was torn.
(And a little freaked out)

Is it wrong that I was enjoying making pretty things?
Is it wrong that I wanted to manipulate delicate materials with my hands to create something both beautiful and personal?

Is it wrong that at the same time, I was drinking a beer and screaming obsenities at my dogs for repeatedly humping each other?

You call it contradictory; I call it well-rounded.

My therapist?
He calls it Dissociative Identity Disorder