A couple of months ago I realized I was being bogged down by everything I own. As I looked at my possessions with the utmost distaste, I could hear Tyler Durden reminding me, “the things you own end up owning you.” And that didn’t sit right with me. I don’t want to be a slave to my IKEA coffee table. I refuse.
As my personal priorities have shifted and I have tried to focus on consuming less, I have also decided it is time to start decluttering my own life and getting rid of most of my posessions. I promised myself that as I prepared to pack up and vacate The Cottage at the end of July, I would try to get rid of as many things as I possibly could. For the most part this process has been surprisingly easy, considering I have often been accused of being ridiculously sentimental. However, even I couldn’t have foreseen how difficult it would be to part with some of my belongings.
I like to refer to these dearest of items as my Casualties of the Move and I would like to ask that you join me as I honor them here.
1. My Junior Prom Dress. (also known as the love of my life)
The second I saw that pale-yellow beauty sitting in the back of my closet I knew it was time. As I delicately removed the plastic covering so that I could try it on one last time, I could feel my heart grow heavy with sadness. Saying goodbye to an old friend is never easy. I couldn’t even adequately express to you why I love that dress so much. If you have to ask, you’ll never know. In fact, I love it so much that three years ago I somehow convinced a group of 20-25 year olds to dust off their old prom dresses and suits just so I could have an excuse to wear my dress one more time. Now that you are safely back in your plastic blanket dear dress, I offer a toast – thanks for the memories old yellow. You will be missed.
Fabio, oh dear Fabio. You always find yourself in the crossfire don’t you? Thank you for always being such a cherished guest at our many affairs. As a parting bit of advice I offer that maybe for your new home you could at least bring a shirt? I mean, I’M NOT COMPLAINING, but sometimes you’re a little intimidating at first when you’re standing there all smoldering and shirtless with your weird chains in your hands, ya know?
3. Baby’s First Lightsaber && Darth Tater and the Spud Troopers.
First of all, someone please name their band “Darth Tater and the Spud Troopers” immediately. I promise I won’t even ask for any royalties. Just like, thank me in your album book thing or whatever.
My lightsaber has been with me since the glory days of my sophomore year of high school. After the midnight showing of Star Wars Episode II, it took residence in my car and there it lived for four years. I often suspect that this is most likely the reason I safely made it to my car so many times. Those mo’ fo’s saw my light saber and knew I must be dangerous. But then one tragic day the batteries died and it has been collecting dust ever since. That’s no life for a light saber, guys. No life at all.
Then there is my band of misfit spuds. I don’t even know what to say about those guys. I guess I just want them to know it isn’t them. It’s me. It’s definitely me.
I’m not gonna lie. Parting with my Christmas decorations wasn’t easy, but I know in my heart it was for the best. In the two years that I have lived in this house, the tradition of The Cottage Christmas has always been a favorite of mine. During the past two Decembers you could pretty much count on me spending 80% of every paycheck on any and all Christmas decorations I could get my hands on. But now I fear that Christmas anywhere else just won’t be the same. Also, who needs Christmas decorations when my only plans for Christmas this year involve Mickey’s Very Merry Christmas Party and openly weeping while watching this movie five times AT LEAST:
5. The Movies.
This one is too hard. I can’t. Not today.