Giant Dwarf vs. Bubbles & Scott Baio

Day 3: Guess who I found in my closet?! Do you remember Rex Smith? Greg Evigan? Robby Benson? Scott Baio? How about Dirk Benedict?

Do you know how much Farrah Fawcett's famous swimsuit poster cost in 1978? It cost three bucks (and that included shipping and handling). Did you know that Willie Aames' favorite Christmas song is "Silent Night?" That Erik Estrada was hoping to find "good luck charms for his necklace" in his Christmas stocking? Do you remember when Linda Ronstadt was dating California Governor Jerry Brown?

Yeah, cool huh? I found a bunch of old Tiger Beat and Teen Beat magazines from 1978 and 1979. A few comic books, too, including a first edition of Logan's Run. I also found a journal I kept in 1992, a children's book that I not only wrote, but also illustrated and bound, back in 1978. I found a paper I wrote on the homeless problem in Arizona from 1985. And I found all of my college papers and blue books.

And as you may have already guessed, I'm not getting rid of these.

But I did manage to purge a few things today. My living room looks like a thrift shop exploded in here. The kitchen was easy. The paper monster is only as scary as I let it be. But the closets? The closets possess the mysteries of a long-extinct civilization.

I managed to 86 an old bathrobe, about two boxes of clothes, a box of shoes (is anyone out there a size 5?), finger paints, a mini-cassette recorder, a TV antenna (guess we don't need those anymore), and jewelry. Jewelry is tough to go through, since I have no idea what the value might be. However, I know full well that if I purchased the bauble myself, it has no value. So there's a bunch of Claire's jewelry ready for donation.

In the process of doing this, I found a light blue, fake fur PowerPuff Girls jewelry box. I've had it for years (I had a PowerPuff Girls obsession back in 2000) but I had no idea what was in it. Opening the lid, the first thing I see is Bubbles, popping up a la the old little girls' jewelry boxes' ballerinas. She doesn't dance, but she's on a spring, so she kind of wiggles. There's a mirror behind her, which is completely useless unless I want to see what the back of Bubbles looks like.

And what is in this classy little jewelry box? Oh, what any girl would have in there. A gold heart, a crystal from Sedona, a package of bindis, a pair of Thumb-Ease massagers, sexy dice which instruct you on what to do and where to do it, and a penis pacifier. Yes, you read that right. A penis pacifier. That's what I've been storing in there all these years.

So, sometime I'll have to tell you about my old job selling sex toys at house parties. Good times.

I'm keeping the Bubbles Box too.

Giant Dwarf vs. Hello Kitty

I've been encouraged by a few people to write a blog, but the reason I'm starting it now is because, when I told C. I was going to take a "staycation" this week and purge stuff from my apartment, she suggested that I blog about it. So this may not be interesting to everyone else, but C. better be reading.

I originally asked for this week off to go to a destination wedding. When I realized that (A) I couldn't bring a date, and (B) I wouldn't know any of the guests, I decided to stay at home and do what I've been needing to do for, well, years.

I come from hoarding stock. Well, only one generation. My grandparents weren't packrats, per se. They had lots of stuff, but I wasn't scared to open the closets. My mother, however, has a problem. My father is continually offering to rent a giant dumpster and get rid of all the collected crap, but my mother laughs it off, clearly hiding the anguish she is experiencing at the thought of this activity.

The good news is, I'm not a terrible hoarder. But I do let things get out of control and have to find time to get them in control. To my credit, I believe some of this has to do with my height. For instance, my kitchen cabinets are so high that I can only reach the first set of shelves. Everything above that requires a step-stool and thus, as new things get added, old things just move to the back. I discovered this today as I tackled my kitchen.

Now, first I must tell you, I made a schedule for this first day of my purge. Why? Well, I may not be a certifiable hoarder, but I am definitely a textbook procrastinator. Left to my own devices, I would sleep till noon, watch movies all afternoon, maybe take a walk, then futz on the computer. Then, around 10:00 pm, I would get this enormous burst of energy, whirl through my tasks, and then leave a mess to deal with in the morning. Thus, a schedule is required.

I did allow myself to sleep in today. For those of you who know my work schedule, you are probably laughing, thinking "Jeez, how much later can she sleep?" Good question. I woke up at my normal waking hour this morning, but the best part was that I got to move slowly and I didn't have to get ready for work.

I'll blog on my battle with the health insurance company another time. It's a whole other entry. Suffice it to say, however, that it put my whole schedule off. I'll also write about my yoga class another time as well....I've just started taking Iyengar Yoga and I truly believe it is a form of torture. Anyhoo.......

The Kitchen. Holy shitballs. I have half a truckbed of stuff just from there. (And many thanks to A. for coming over and helping me, despite his easy distractibility.) Does anyone still use a breadmaker? I actually did use mine....back in 1999. And does anyone know if canned food actually goes bad? I mean, there are sell-by dates on the cans, but really? Wouldn't they still be edible? I got rid of 7 vases, multiple "Tupperware"-like containers, a wine carrier, a lamp (yes, in my kitchen), a juicer (not the fancy kind), cups, tins, a dozen or so mini-liquor bottles (which I gave to A. as compensation for helping me today), oh wow, lots of things. I was doing well until I had my first emotional crisis. It's in the "to go" pile, but I don't know if I can go through with it.

It's my Hello Kitty Sandwich Maker. I love it. I haven't used it in years, but it was well-loved when I did use it. I inaugurated it for White Trash party where I made grilled cheese sandwiches on the press (which emblazoned faces of Hello Kitty on the bread slices) and my friend J. made Spam musubi. We served Strawberry Hill and watched Glitter and Crossroads. It was perfect. And so were the grilled cheese sandwiches. How can I get rid of that kind of memory?

And therein lies the problem. So I'm going to sleep on it. I have three more days of purge. I'm sure I'll see a sign.