Friday, April 25, 2014

Let it go.

I’m pretty good about getting rid of things when I’m done with them. Not great, but pretty good.

Like I love selling/donating clothes that I don't wear anymore that have been stuffed into my closet, making glorious room so I can actually slide the hangers back and forth -- such a novelty!

And I'll gladly toss away food-encrusted cookie sheets from the drawer under the stove and stained towels from hair dye from my linen closet. 

But you guys, some things are hard for me to get rid of. I’m not talking about things like dairies or photo albums -- those stay. I’m talking about things like this:

Simple clogs.

These were purchase in the ‘90s right out of college after realizing I was not a Birkenstock kind of a girl –- perhaps I could pull off these hippie clogs? I wore these everywhere. To death. The lining is torn out and the leather is pretty worn and they don’t smell the greatest. But they are SO COMFORTABLE. Now they sit by the sliding glass door off the kitchen and everyone in the family wears them if they need to run the recycling out or walk the dog around the block. They are the family clogs, and I will never throw them away.

Gap t-shirts.

Again, purchased loooong ago, basic t-shirts in black and white. These are stretched out, stained and friggin' huge but comfortable. I would get rid of these before the clogs but I really hope I don’t have to ever make that choice.

This "salad."

OK, this is from last Sunday and was served with our Easter dinner. It's something my mom made that involves a packet of orange Jello mix, cottage cheese, mayonnaise and canned mandarins/pineapple (don't judge it, because you haven't tried it.) It's one of those weird concoctions that when served on a holiday it is deemed "salad." I refuse to throw this away, I will finish every last bite. And with the mayo/cottage cheese combo I better get busy on this delicious SALAD (that tastes like a creamsicle) before it spoils.

Pretty in Pink cassette tape.

I no longer own a cassette player and my car doesn't have one. I keep this on my bookshelf –- it’s the last thing I see before I go to sleep/first thing I see when I wake up. I will most likely be buried with this. That's not weird, right? 

Oh, and this:

Cheerleader lamp.

My childhood lamp that sat on my nightstand -- Mom made it for me in her '70s ceramics class. It was supposed to look like me, with the brown hair and eyes and, um, enthusiasm for cheerleading? No...I never had that. There must not have been a lamp shaped like a candy bar or Carvel soft serve cone for her to paint, so I got the cheerleader. 

Like I said I don't really hang onto things so I don't know how this bulky, fragile lamp managed to make the cut moving from New York, to Florida to my garage here in Portland. But it did. 

And I'm glad it did. I really don't mind seeing that smiling face a few feet in front of me when I open up the door off the living room that leads into my highly disorganized garage. 

I have two boys who are not at all interested in my old "young-mom-as-a-cheerleader-if-she enjoyed cheerleading" lamp. But it's been with me almost my whole life, and I'm not getting rid of it.

To conclude; I would choose the lamp over the clogs, t-shirts, the creamsicle salad and (gulp) the cassette tape. 

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