April 20, 2005
At one point during the deployment, a friend and I briefly ventured into what we would do if our husbands didn't come home from Iraq. My friend said that she could leave in a minute and never look back, that someone could come and loot her house for all she cared because she wouldn't want anything from her house. She wouldn't want to take her old life with her to the next. I remember thinking that I could never do that because I love things too much.
I love stuff. I bet if I really tried, I could catalog nearly everything we own. I don't like to borrow books because I want to own them myself. I never really got into the Napster craze because I like owning the CDs and seeing them lined up (alphabetically, naturally) on the shelf. I get very attached to material things, and I always thought the worst thing that could happen to me would be a fire. (In fact, I went through this phase where I kept a bag full of the most important things I owned so I could grab the bag as I ran out of the burning house.)
The comical part about all of this is that I hate spending money. I love owning things, but I am the stingiest person I know. Sure I want to own the book, but I will wait and wait for it to get a dollar cheaper online before I buy it. I'm still waiting to buy From the Earth to the Moon until I can find it a little cheaper. One of my friends always teases me about my "card" because I have this index card where I write every book, movie, or CD that I want to buy. Some things have been on that card for two years, because the test of knowing how much you want something is how long you keep it on the card. If I still want it after a year, I probably will shell out the money for it.
So when I ruin a shirt, it hurts me. I ruined something that I can't replace, and I feel angry. It will take me years to find a blue shirt I like as much as that one.
49 queries taking 0.076 seconds, 198 records returned.
Powered by Minx 1.1.6c-pink.