Hey! Girl Talk Thursday! Remember when that was a thing? That I did? No?
Today Colleen is talking about stuff. Specifically, stuff she collects. Colleen likes stuff.
I … do not like stuff. I am sort of the opposite of a collector. If I end up with a few of something, my instinct is to purge it — if other people see that I have a few of something, they may be inclined to get me more of that something! Then there would be more of that something, and it would be my responsibility, and I sort of have Issues with Stuff.
That being said, I do have my things. My WEAKNESSES, you might say. (Or my normalities, as collecting things is pretty, well, normal.) I have nothing against people who collect things, I just don’t want to have to dust those things. Or any things.
I haven’t dusted properly in five years. Does that mean I collect dust?
My husband is allergic to dust.
Jadite. Oh, glorious jadite. I can justify this one because it is dishes. And dishes are for eating! (Off of. Unless you are Cookie Monster. Or want to break my heart.) So you can’t really ever have too many dishes, because there will always be more people who want to eat. I inherited the jadite from Matt’s grandmother, and I treasure it like it is a PET. Or at least a plant that I actually remember to water. I keep an eye out on Etsy all the time for pieces to add to the collection. I have told my husband that all he ever has to get me from here until forever for gifts is a small piece of jadite here and there. IT IS JUST SO PRETTY.
Postcards. Postcards are the only souvenirs I ever buy on trips. They are flat! They remind me of where I went! If I ever wanted to, I could frame them or hang them up and use them as decoration! I love postcards. If someone I know ever goes on a trip and asks if I want them to bring me back something, POSTCARD is always the answer. Or chocolate. But it’s mostly my thighs that collect the chocolate, and now this is just getting awkward.
Books. Duh. Am librarian. (Though, because of that, I take most of my books out of the library. The only books I buy are the ones I really love and want to reread. I’m a filthy Communist that way.)
Now I sort of want to go to the nearest closet and start throwing things in a donation pile. Which would be why I hoard Cardboard boxes. They make getting rid of things so, so enjoyable. Putting it in trash bags just feels wrong. And disorganized. Just because I want it out of my house doesn’t mean I want it done in a disorderly fashion.
So what do you collect? Or not collect, as the case may be?