Yeah, Right, Whatever

Or... Camp Cupcake. Whatever.

Wasting no time, Martha Stewart left prison in the middle of the night Friday and quickly set her sights on rebuilding her homemaking empire after serving a five-month sentence for lying about a stock sale.

Stewart was allowed to leave prison at 12:30 a.m Friday in a two-vehicle motorcade and headed to a nearby airport where she was to board a private jet for a flight to New York. She will spend the next five months on home confinement at her 153-acre estate in Katonah, N.Y.

So, I guess this means we'll have 5 months of cameras with telephoto lenses trying to catch a glimpse of her through her mansion windows. Lovely. Really. Yet another "celebrity" making "news."

Please tell me why I should care about Martha? I just don't get it. Take away an iffy conviction, and you're left with a control freak with something of a flair for (home) style and a really big bank account. Martha reminds me of an uptight, unattractive, mean version of the mom of my best friend growing up- always polished, always the perfect hostess. Except, like I said, Mrs. M was (and still is) nice. She's not a good tv personna, and her projects and recipes were complicated and expensive. I honestly never saw her appeal. It's not just me, is it?

I'm the Anti-Martha. OK, maybe not that bad. (Shut up, R... I know I'm O/C - you don't need to share this info with the world. Is it that bad that my cds are in alphabetical order?) I guess, in my perfect world, I'd be as organized as she seems to be, and my house would always be immaculate, like hers. But, in my real world, I don't have a personal assistant or two and a house staff to pick up every stray crumb and dust bunny. My entertaining style is all my own, and it really looks nothing like hers. My cooking? Less involved, less fruffy, more tasty.

In honor of my... annoyance with all things Martha (except her line of Christmas decorations- it is NOT my fault KMart made Christmas ornaments that match my living room)- here's an oldie but a goodie from the gang at Strange Cosmos:

MARTHA STEWART DISEASE by DONNA LYPCHUK

Here are some early warning signs that you may be suffering from "Martha Stewart Disease."

You have an obsession with hanging swags of brightly colored fabric from curtain rods.

Your house is decorated with plaster-cast gremlins and angels.

Every shoebox and empty tin can in the house has been dcoupaged with flowers cut out from old wrapping paper.

You float candles in the punch bowl at parties.

You use a gold ink pen to sign all your cards and to leave little notes around the house.

You have glass jars filled with dried rose petals everywhere.

There are pots and pots of herbs on your windowsill, and each herb is painstakingly labelled, along with a hand-drawn picture of the herb.

You've made a doormat with a sunflower design on it out of old bottle-caps.

If given the choice, you would rather spend your weekend in Canadian Tire than be taken out for a good dinner.

DEFINITE SYMPTOMS OF MARTHA STEWART DISEASE

You polish every lettuce leaf with a clean white cloth until each one shines like a newly waxed car fender before you put it in the bowl.

You save snowballs from last winter in your fridge, in case you need them to create an ice-sculpture centrepiece.

You have tie-dyed all of your T-shirts with dyes made from vegetables grown in your garden.

You've made wind chimes out of old coconut shells.

Your hedges have all been pruned to resemble chess pieces.

Your salads consist mainly of nasturtiums and pansies.

Every chunk of cheese on your cheese tray comes with a toothpick and a little flag upon which is clearly labeled the cheese's country of origin.

Your hair looks like a bonsai tree.

You hoard cookie cutters in all sizes, shapes and colors in a kitchen drawer and nobody is allowed to touch them.

You insist on using ostrich eggs instead of regular-size eggs for the annual Easter egg hunt.

You put rouge on your children's cheeks so they'll look all fresh and rosy and apple-cheeked when company comes over.

ACUTE CASE OF MARTHA STEWART DISEASE

All of the grass in your front yard is braided.

You serve entrees in an attractive real bird's nest you found in a nearby forest.

You make your own Jell-o from calves' hooves rather than buy the powdered stuff.

You decorate your cakes with pieces of ceramic, bundles of chiffon, buttons, marbles and other inedible stuff just because "it looks so pretty."

Each and every flower in the back yard is wrapped in raffia and sports a shiny red bow.

You serve wine to your guests in conch shells.

You've smeared the walls with yogurt so that over time, a natural-looking greenish mould will grow, giving your home the fashionably distressed look of an ancient Greek temple.

You dress all of your children, despite their gender, in white chiffon dresses and white straw fedoras with white satin ribbons and haven't fed them for days in case they grow into an awkward, gangly phase.

You've macramd yourself a computer cozy from hemp and recycled plastic.

Before you go to bed at night, you spend hours on your hobby farm putting the wool on your sheeps' bodies in hot rollers, so they will look more fluffy and glamorous than the neighbor's.

You sleep outside the house, in a tent, so that you don't spoil your perfectly made bed.