I love glitter.
I think in my former life I was a Broadway performer because I’m obsessed with glitter. I have no other explanation. All I know is that glitter makes me happy. Not only do I have at least 50 kinds on tap in my art studio, I also have everything from eye shadow to desk accessories accented with the shiny stuff.
But I knew I had gone too far this past New Year’s Eve when I added what I thought was a “sheer” layer to my face before my husband and I headed to a party. On our way there, we got a call that my mother-in-law had been taken to the emergency room. We screeched our wheels and headed to the hospital. It was a long and serious night as all my in-laws pulled together through tears and finally joy when we found out she was going to be fine.
It was then that my husband leaned in and whispered something in my ear:
“Do you realize you have glitter all over your face? Everyone you hugged now has glitter on them, too. Please tell me you didn’t do it on purpose.”
Since then, my husband and sister have approached me with what they call “glitter intervention.” I may have been forced into moderation, but I’m proud to say my artistic designs haven’t suffered.