Why You Don't Give Markers To Toddlers
Thursday, June 10, 2004
Exhuming plastic for fun and profit
For those of you that have been reading the blog for a little while, you might remember that I commented that I was a hoarder. What ultimately got way out of hand started innocently enough. I started a quest to recreate my childhood toy collection.
Toys didn't really stand a chance at my house, and being the baby of the family, my toys were kind of a conglomeration of mine and leftover parts of my older siblings. The few dolls I had, I loved dearly, especially Dancerina. Dancerina was a beautiful doll with a ballerina costume and pretty pointed ballet shoes. When you held her crown, she would dance, and she came with a record. She was my favorite, and for whatever reason, in my late 20s, I wanted to find a pristine example of her. Thus began my descent into 70s plastic collecting dementia.
Dancerina - she started the obsession
Much like a gateway drug, Dancerina just made me jones for other hard-to-find vintage amusements. My Romper Room Scoop-A-Loop set, Romper Stompers, and my Do-Bee puppet were all coveted prey for my toy safaris. Most weekends would find me haunting flea markets, yard sales, Goodwill stores to recapture bits of my youth.
Pretty soon, I started "dealing" toys to support my habit. Ebay was my channel partner of choice - I conducted weekly auctions and was soon earning a decent living peddling memories to others like me. Vintage Barbies, MEGO figures, lunchboxes, it was an ever-growing hobby/obsession.
I soon found myself frequenting "toy shows" to quench my thirst for MIB merchandise (for those not familiar, that acronym stands for Mint in the Box). I became a very savvy collector, spotting underpriced pieces at local shows, and then turning a profit on them by selling them on the EBay international market. Meanwhile, my garage and spare rooms were filling to the rafters with the chaff that I separated from the wheat: partial Partridge Family boardgames that I was sure I could complete one day, broken Mattel talking dolls, embattled GI Joes that needed the fuzzy flocking put back on their heads. I would be their savior, and they would be the path for me to reach Toy Utopia - a complete recreation of every toy I had or ever wanted, or ever played with at a friend's house. I justified it by making it profitable, but in the end, it was just overwhelming how much I had amassed.
I have rid myself of most of it, and after a heartwrenching inner battle, I even sold Dancerina (for a nice profit, but still). The infatuation ran its course, and truthfully I either grew up, or grew bored, or grew tired of the mess.
It's nice to be back in control, but there is still one little part of me that would pay dearly for a really clean copy of Which Witch.
Which Witch - the holy grail
Toys didn't really stand a chance at my house, and being the baby of the family, my toys were kind of a conglomeration of mine and leftover parts of my older siblings. The few dolls I had, I loved dearly, especially Dancerina. Dancerina was a beautiful doll with a ballerina costume and pretty pointed ballet shoes. When you held her crown, she would dance, and she came with a record. She was my favorite, and for whatever reason, in my late 20s, I wanted to find a pristine example of her. Thus began my descent into 70s plastic collecting dementia.
Dancerina - she started the obsession
Much like a gateway drug, Dancerina just made me jones for other hard-to-find vintage amusements. My Romper Room Scoop-A-Loop set, Romper Stompers, and my Do-Bee puppet were all coveted prey for my toy safaris. Most weekends would find me haunting flea markets, yard sales, Goodwill stores to recapture bits of my youth.
Pretty soon, I started "dealing" toys to support my habit. Ebay was my channel partner of choice - I conducted weekly auctions and was soon earning a decent living peddling memories to others like me. Vintage Barbies, MEGO figures, lunchboxes, it was an ever-growing hobby/obsession.
I soon found myself frequenting "toy shows" to quench my thirst for MIB merchandise (for those not familiar, that acronym stands for Mint in the Box). I became a very savvy collector, spotting underpriced pieces at local shows, and then turning a profit on them by selling them on the EBay international market. Meanwhile, my garage and spare rooms were filling to the rafters with the chaff that I separated from the wheat: partial Partridge Family boardgames that I was sure I could complete one day, broken Mattel talking dolls, embattled GI Joes that needed the fuzzy flocking put back on their heads. I would be their savior, and they would be the path for me to reach Toy Utopia - a complete recreation of every toy I had or ever wanted, or ever played with at a friend's house. I justified it by making it profitable, but in the end, it was just overwhelming how much I had amassed.
I have rid myself of most of it, and after a heartwrenching inner battle, I even sold Dancerina (for a nice profit, but still). The infatuation ran its course, and truthfully I either grew up, or grew bored, or grew tired of the mess.
It's nice to be back in control, but there is still one little part of me that would pay dearly for a really clean copy of Which Witch.
Which Witch - the holy grail
Tuesday, June 8, 2004
Dietary Porn
It's not the real thing, but it sure feels like the real thing. I can finally have sweet tea again without guilt, and for a Southerner, that is a BIG deal.
I am a lifelong sugar substitute slave. My mom always used Sweet'n'Low when I was a kid, trying in vain to curb my dad's sweet tooth and my chubby little tummy. It made my brothers and sister miserable, but I actually developed a tolerance for saccharin, but never what you would term a "liking".
Nutrasweet was promising, it tasted better, but God, the headaches I got rivaled any chinese food MSG hangover I have ever had. Plus, I have a mistrust of the evil Monsanto empire after I worked for a large environmental engineering firm and saw the endless reports of their misdeeds.
I went the hippie route for a few years and bought stevia in bulk. Apart from feeling like a drug smuggler, it was an OK option. Again, I had found a palatable, mediocre sugar substitute, but given my rathers, I liked regular ol' sugar better, and seemed to continually revert back to the (co)Cain white sugar crystals.
But now, ohhhhh my . . . I have found the Holy Grail that is Splenda. It looks like sugar, measures like sugar, and most importantly it TASTES like sugar. Don't look at me for the scientific explanation, but from what I have read, it is actual sugar that has a couple of molecules switched so that it isn't absorbed and doesn't mess with your insulin or blood sugar. You can cook with it, sweeten Kool-Aid or tea with it, and its safe for adults and kids. Hallelujah.
Sweet, sweet Splenda
I am a lifelong sugar substitute slave. My mom always used Sweet'n'Low when I was a kid, trying in vain to curb my dad's sweet tooth and my chubby little tummy. It made my brothers and sister miserable, but I actually developed a tolerance for saccharin, but never what you would term a "liking".
Nutrasweet was promising, it tasted better, but God, the headaches I got rivaled any chinese food MSG hangover I have ever had. Plus, I have a mistrust of the evil Monsanto empire after I worked for a large environmental engineering firm and saw the endless reports of their misdeeds.
I went the hippie route for a few years and bought stevia in bulk. Apart from feeling like a drug smuggler, it was an OK option. Again, I had found a palatable, mediocre sugar substitute, but given my rathers, I liked regular ol' sugar better, and seemed to continually revert back to the (co)Cain white sugar crystals.
But now, ohhhhh my . . . I have found the Holy Grail that is Splenda. It looks like sugar, measures like sugar, and most importantly it TASTES like sugar. Don't look at me for the scientific explanation, but from what I have read, it is actual sugar that has a couple of molecules switched so that it isn't absorbed and doesn't mess with your insulin or blood sugar. You can cook with it, sweeten Kool-Aid or tea with it, and its safe for adults and kids. Hallelujah.
Sweet, sweet Splenda
Sunday, June 6, 2004
Brainwashed by the Church of Home Improvement
I am convinced that I am addicted to DIY shows. From This Old House to Clean Sweep, I watch them all. I adore Trading Spaces, Changing Rooms, Room Rivals, Designer's Challenge, Design for the Sexes, This Small Space, House Doctor, Sell This House, Life Laundry (see, I told you!)
I would wager that I have spent as many hours studying decorating and design as degreed decorators have. There is just one difference though . . . the shows haven't rubbed off on me. My attempts at decorating and organization are mediocre, at best. I never can quite bring things together to make a room look like the ones on TV, not even the 2-day, $1000 rooms (sigh).
The shows about decluttering particularly hit home for me - I am a bit of a packrat, I am afraid. OK, that may be a slight understatement. I have been known to downright hoard . . . masses of useless junk that I somehow thought I needed at the time of purchase.
The last couple of years have been a steady struggle to declutter, simplify, pare down, and live simply. When we bought our house in 2001, I vowed to put my hoarding days behind me and left a cubic ton of junk at the Goodwill on the way out of my old house. I have read books on organization, watched the shows (of course) and even implemented some fairly complicated and costly storage solutions in an attempt to tame my house. None of it has worked. I still have piles of laundry everywhere, little piles of things scattered here and there, and I keep a shovel handy to unearth the floor of the kids' rooms on a fairly regular basis.
I think that watching the shows gives me hope and keeps the dream alive. After I watch a good instructional show, I am inspired once again to take a crack at domestic domination over my crap.
The only thing that I have accomplished with a certainty is that I have ended my hoarding ways. I am completely unsentimental about papers, clothing, books, knick knacks, and little collectibles that used to fill my house to the rafters. I no longer haunt thrift stores and come home with bags of "treasures".
Baby steps . . .
I would wager that I have spent as many hours studying decorating and design as degreed decorators have. There is just one difference though . . . the shows haven't rubbed off on me. My attempts at decorating and organization are mediocre, at best. I never can quite bring things together to make a room look like the ones on TV, not even the 2-day, $1000 rooms (sigh).
The shows about decluttering particularly hit home for me - I am a bit of a packrat, I am afraid. OK, that may be a slight understatement. I have been known to downright hoard . . . masses of useless junk that I somehow thought I needed at the time of purchase.
The last couple of years have been a steady struggle to declutter, simplify, pare down, and live simply. When we bought our house in 2001, I vowed to put my hoarding days behind me and left a cubic ton of junk at the Goodwill on the way out of my old house. I have read books on organization, watched the shows (of course) and even implemented some fairly complicated and costly storage solutions in an attempt to tame my house. None of it has worked. I still have piles of laundry everywhere, little piles of things scattered here and there, and I keep a shovel handy to unearth the floor of the kids' rooms on a fairly regular basis.
I think that watching the shows gives me hope and keeps the dream alive. After I watch a good instructional show, I am inspired once again to take a crack at domestic domination over my crap.
The only thing that I have accomplished with a certainty is that I have ended my hoarding ways. I am completely unsentimental about papers, clothing, books, knick knacks, and little collectibles that used to fill my house to the rafters. I no longer haunt thrift stores and come home with bags of "treasures".
Baby steps . . .
Wednesday, June 2, 2004
Writer's Block
So...
I have been checking the blog comments daily, but haven't had really anything to blog about lately. Ho-hum.
Saw Shrek II with the kids. I liked it as much as the first one, which is really saying something. Not a big fan of sequels in general, they usually disappoint, but this was the exception to the rule.
We arrived early for the 1:00 show, and got great seats about 10 minutes early. As 1:00 approached, I was trying to put the brakes on the kids - they had burned through about 1/2 of their popcorn and candy. Then the previews started - all 20 MINUTES OF THEM. Do the theater managers not realize that the audience is comprised of little people with the attention span of gnats? By the time the previews were over, my little one announced, "That was a good movie - we go home now!" It took a great deal of convincing to keep him seated - bribing him with my box of candy did the trick.
So, we are all easing into summer. This won't be one of those lazy, sleep in, go to the beach for a week summers. This will be a sweat your ass off, send the kids to grandma's while I work, no reprieve kind of summer, but that is what happens when you are laid off for the better part of the year. Got a lotta catching up to do, my friends, but we are beginning to see light at the end of the tunnel.
Hope it isn't an oncoming train.
I have been checking the blog comments daily, but haven't had really anything to blog about lately. Ho-hum.
Saw Shrek II with the kids. I liked it as much as the first one, which is really saying something. Not a big fan of sequels in general, they usually disappoint, but this was the exception to the rule.
We arrived early for the 1:00 show, and got great seats about 10 minutes early. As 1:00 approached, I was trying to put the brakes on the kids - they had burned through about 1/2 of their popcorn and candy. Then the previews started - all 20 MINUTES OF THEM. Do the theater managers not realize that the audience is comprised of little people with the attention span of gnats? By the time the previews were over, my little one announced, "That was a good movie - we go home now!" It took a great deal of convincing to keep him seated - bribing him with my box of candy did the trick.
So, we are all easing into summer. This won't be one of those lazy, sleep in, go to the beach for a week summers. This will be a sweat your ass off, send the kids to grandma's while I work, no reprieve kind of summer, but that is what happens when you are laid off for the better part of the year. Got a lotta catching up to do, my friends, but we are beginning to see light at the end of the tunnel.
Hope it isn't an oncoming train.
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