Maybe the Paper is Just Paper


The never ending cleaning process continues.  I’ve discovered (or perhaps more appropriately, admitted) that I’m a bit of a pack rat.  My sister and I share the same genetic fear that if we throw something away, a few weeks or months or years later we’ll have a need and we’ll kick ourselves, knowing that we used to have just the perfect thing.   The things I have an especially difficult time getting rid of tend to fall into 2 categories – the sentimental and the peculiar.  The first is fairly self explanatory.  Me being the midwestern brownie-baking center piece-making hair-that-curls-under-in-the-front-girl that I am,  I resist throwing away notes and ticket-stubs and crumpled up doodled on napkins that might bring a tear to my eye when I’m a white-haired lady to tired to leave my house.  Then there’s the second reason for keeping – peculiarity.  I find that I keep strange things because (you all may find this surprising but) my life is strange. (I was just kidding about the surprise).   A person with a life like mine never knows when you might need 8-inch plastic high heels, a headband with camel ears, or a small glass cow decorated with abstract colors.  Any of these might be just the perfect touch to an already surreal scene.  I mean really, if Salvidor Dali had camel ears, I’m sure he wouldn’t just toss them into the trash.

However, my logic has two flaws.  1.  Eventually, a lot of the nostalgia fades.  I hate to say it folks, but the doodles of inside jokes I did in 7th grade really don’t make much sense anymore, and while I can appreciate how funny they were at the time, they don’t have much entertainment power left in them now.  And, as my grandmother is daily proof, eventually even the sentimental stuff becomes more crap standing in your way.  (I thought 20 years of stuff was bad…try 76!)    And 2.  My life is epic with or without plastic shoes of porcelain cows.  I learned this traveling over the last 2 years, when things like this were the first to go from my 2 suitcases and a carry-on.  And now that I’m home, most of the stuff I have, though amusing, is relatively useless and takes up spaces.

For the record, I’m not ready to give up the camel ears yet.



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