Little things make me wicked happy.
I send my girlfriends birthday cards. When I can remember to.
Always I add a colorful balloon and a dash of confetti. Who doesn’t like a little festive snow globe in the mail?
A while back, I realized that my mom uses highlighters on her cards, and my sister is partial to putting stickers on her envelopes. I didn’t realize it was a genetic disorder. Took some of the fun out of it once I realized I was predisposed to greeting card playtime.
I think each year is worth celebrating with a tiny flash of brilliance.
They are starting to remember though. Usually, after a year has gone by, they have forgotten and cover their living room floor in sparkles all over again. But lately I’ve seen one or two of them shake the envelope first.
That’s cheating ladies!
It’s interesting to me that no one has gone so far as to exact revenge. Certainly if I were annoyed enough by someone regularly toilet papering my front yard it would only be a matter of time before I visited them at 4am armed with cans of snow flocking and silly string.
Take comfort then, in my funeral arrangements.
I’ll be lying in my coffin with the lid closed. At first my plan needed it open but you have to realize that I’m focussing on being dead so the lid up is just going to distract me from my job.
So if you’re around for the part where I get lowered into the ground, instead of tossing flowers at me, you can toss some confetti.
If you don’t make it to the services, that’s perfectly okay. You can swing by the cemetery anytime and sprinkle some glitter over my grave.
I’m telling you.
They can mow for a thousand years. That sparkle will still be there.
Ask our school custodian.
I had newbie parent helpers one fateful day in our multi-purpose room, and put them in charge of the glitter station for 800 kids. They were quite enthusiastic.
Glitter does not come out of industrial carpet. Ever.
Or velvet curtains that drape majestically around the stage, especially if it’s mixed with the smallest bit of Elmer’s glue.
I know Mr Calvin thinks of me fondly every time he vacuums. That room was hit by fairy dust and it will glow far into the future.
When my big moment comes for popping out of the ground, I want it to explode with confetti!
In the meantime, I’ve been shopping for a chandelier.
I’m celebrating my One Year Mark as a blogger. One whole year of writing!
It has to be dripping with crystals and lit with tiny white fairy lights and hanging from a delicate silver chain. It doesn’t have to be very large, only extremely glittery.
If it throws prism rainbow drops on the walls, even better.
I am marking my milestones with exploding bits of twinkles.
These aren’t gray hairs.
They’re strands of glitter growing out of my head.