Glitterphobe

This may or may not come as a shock to you. {When I told Mandi about it the other night, she was a little surprised at my strong feelings, and urged me to post about such.}

I hate glitter.


(these inspiring photos are from this post, via the lovely Twig & Thistle blog.)

Sure, it's beautiful. These photographs are pretty, this craft project is probably wonderful and fun.

And simply looking at this picture does not give me hives, I kind of enjoy it (from the safety of my computer screen). I like sparkle just as much as anyone.



But if this were in my home, it would need to be in a clear, sealed acrylic box to make it through the door.

I do not want to touch it, I do not want its debris in my house, on my clothes, in my purse, on my face when I don't know it (!!!), molting from paper, nothin'. A mail nightmare (and perhaps the only) is opening an invitation or card of some sort and having glitter pour out, catching me off-guard.

I'm not saying it shouldn't exist. Simply, I don't want it to touch me or any of my things. It's difficult to clean up, and you never know what surface it's perpetrated (the light can play tricks...and sometimes you can't see it).

Christmastime makes this especially tough.



Case in point: on Monday night, Mandi and I were walking into the sanctuary at a local church where we attend BSF. They had just decorated the space for Christmas, with trees and glittery garlands all over the stage at the front of the auditorium.

As we went to sit down about six rows back, I noticed glitter on the seat and the floor. WHAT TO DO! And, maybe just as importantly to prove my point, HOW did the offensive glitter make its way approximately 20 yards back from where it presently resided?

This just shows the intrusiveness of glitter's scattering ways. I had to brush off my seat before I'd sit down, and clear space for my bag (no way was it going on the floor).

Is this weird or rational? I'm leaning toward the latter, and I know my husband thanks me for this prediliction {especially one day in the (not-certain) future when we have small children running around, wanting to do glittery craft projects. Sorry, kids, Mama is a glitterphobe}.

You're welcome, dear, and Merry Christmas.