Dirty Little Secret

 

I used to be a hoarder. Of things. Anything. If something was on sale I couldn’t buy just one. It was like the potato chip deal. I would acquire multiples, usually in three’s. No idea why the odd number when symmetry used to be so important to me. I blame society for my ills. We are, simply put, a society of people who idolize excess in any form or fashion. (Excess in fashion is a story for another day) The guy/gal with the most toys wins, as the saying goes. It’s hard to break out of that mindset when it’s so deeply ingrained in the fabric of your being. Keep up with the Jones’s. Buy every new and improved item that comes on the market. Be the first to have the latest and greatest of every high tech gadget or suffer ridicule by a jury of your peers if you aren’t on the cutting edge, ready to fall sideways into an abyss of over-priced over-commercialized techno gadgetry with them, but preferably before them. Everyone wants to lead the way into the abysmal depths of overpriced yet under-used I just gotta have it now because it will make me look cool pool of commercialized lunacy. Think I sound cynical? Ha! I used to be one of those people so I speak from experience. One day out of the blue I had an epiphany. I didn’t really ‘own’ any of those items I had amassed. Hazah!!! They owned me and had trained me well. I was a slave to a house full of inanimate objects and being run ragged by their high maintenance upkeep. Polish the marble, shine the silver, wash the crystal, keep the granite and stainless spot-free, wax the hardwoods, and hand wash the fine china lest it chip, crack, or God forbid – break! Seriously, I loathe being told what to do by other people but apparently have no problem being cuckolded by a bunch of junk – albeit high priced junk. Imagine the V-8 style thump to my head that day, eh?

 

I would buy just about anything if it was on sale, cheap, or best of all on clearance. If I didn’t need it surely I knew someone who did, or someone I knew must know someone who did. Right? That was the internal argument to justify the purchase. At one point I probably had enough decorations to single-handedly deck the halls of the West Wing of the White House. I’m not talking pre-made weatherproof vinyl velvet bows here. I’m talking $20.00 a roll wired velvet, moiré, and satins. I bought every roll in the store (approximate count 75, give or take) Well, except for the ones my mother and sister bought. Yep! It’s a family affair. A genetic affliction with deep seated roots in some centuries old Italian curse from the motherland. Or……perhaps it’s a paternal trait from my naturally native American roots. The band of Indians from whence I came are hunter/gatherers. It’s logical, really. I hunted down all kinds of bargains to justify my acquisitions and I gathered up all kinds of needless crap to elevate my standing in the tribe. Yeah – a show-off! While everyone else was out living life I was spit shining my pickle forks!

 

I don’t know for certain why I went through that awkward period. I’m happy to report I’ve come to my senses although some would say I’ve gone too far a field in the opposite direction. I try not to buy much of anything these days. I personally have found the best way to do that, for me, is to stay the hell out of the stores so temptation can’t stealthily sow her insidious seeds of faux entitlement. Uh huh, like a horse with blinders on if I don’t see it I can’t feel faint with delight, giddy with anticipation, or sick with want all the while confusing it with need. I probably have more than enough ‘things’ to last me the rest of my lifetime with enough left over to will to someone else in lieu of large sums of money. If I leave them stuff they’ll feel obligated to keep it, display it, and pretend to cherish it because I bought it and kept it packed away for 40 years for the sake of some day being able to say “Where the hell did I put my Limoges compote”? Each time they move they’ll lovingly wrap my knickknacks in bubble paper and curse me under their breath all the while. That’s one way to make sure they remember me. :o)

 

My garage looks like a Self Storage facility for overflow from Sanford and Son. It’s the last vestige of the way I was. I need to have the mother of all yard sales and then rent a 40 yard roll off. Ha! Just joking – sort of. I do need to have a sale to make some money and I do need a dumpster but not just to clear a path through the garage. I want to have a new roof put on so the dumpster will do double duty for the old roof and the crap in the garage that doesn’t get sold. In all fairness most of the garage contents are left over from when I had a husband. He was a primo junk collector of the “it’s copper, or brass, or a motor, or a valve, or a pump” and it might come in handy some day school of thought. Trouble is he moved out and left many of his so called treasures for me to kick and curse as I stub my toe on them trying to get to the work bench just to locate a can of WD40. I did the same thing you would do and bought a small can to keep in the house and avoid the ‘void’ altogether. Yanno?

 

I’m in the process of downsizing, downgrading, and going au naturale. I want organic and green. It should be wash and wear, sustainable, recyclable, recycled from something or some place else, be multi-functional, and aesthetically please my senses without offending my sensibilities. Follow me?

 

My children say that makes me a hippy. I think it makes me hip! I’m what is known as a tree hugger. I believe trees are the answer. I believe the best things in life aren’t things. I believe in elegant simplicity which some believe is an oxymoron. I get a sense of utter satisfaction from weeding a garden, or pruning a shrub, or repurposing something to keep it out of a landfill. I free cycled before it had a name or a cult following. I ❤ wicker and bamboo and rocks and grass cloth and all things natural and sustainable and eco-friendly. I don’t believe in altering the delicate balance of nature, if at all possible, because I know with an uncertain certainty it will come back to haunt me, or us (society as a whole.) I have reverence and respect for all things, not just ‘living things’. I believe natural things have a soul and a sense of purpose. I like the idea of writing on the computer if it helps save a tree. I’ll pass up a bag at the store and carry my items if it means one less finds its way into a landfill. I think plastic grocery bags and Styrofoam containers will be the death of us yet, if we don’t do ourselves in with hatred and war. I believe the universe is caring and compassionate and that it takes care of me because I believe in the beauty and power of it. On the reread I guess I really do sound like a hippy, eh? Oh well, I’ve been called worse.

 

By now you’re asking if this is a blog or a novella. I’m verbose and long-winded. It’s all part of my charm. If you’ve read this far you must be too, or else you’re a sadist. Maybe you were just taking bets on where this would all end and how. I would like to post a story I’ve written in chapters and see if it is well received. I’ve started a few ‘books’ but have yet to finish any because I never know if it’s as interesting to other people as it is to me and I don’t want to ‘waste my time’ writing something no one is ever going to read but that’s the wrong way to look at it. I should write it simply because I derive pleasure out of the act of writing and not give a rat’s ass if it ever sees the light of day. I’m working on self gratification but for now I want accolades from the masses. Have I got a long journey ahead of me. Oy!

 

 

 

 

 

Tags: amusing, crazy, Funny, hoarding, Ramblings, rants, sarcasm, Slice of Life, witty