Brand new box of matches.

Ask me anythingArchive

I made three stops today.

I have always been a bit of a craft project collector—ok, maybe more like a crazy, semi-hoarding, glitter nerd. I totally live for finding little knick-knacks for all of the cool stuff I’ll make. Someday. I get so inspired by things. And what if I can’t find them again and I need them for something?! To be fair, I have made and even sold some pretty cool stuff along the way. I will always be an artisan at heart, but it was time to let go.

It was not easy, but I filled five huge tubs with all things crafty (a hundred tubes of glitter, patches, tiaras, rhinestones, frames, my dreams of being the “alternative” Martha Stewart, organic felt, etc.) and gifted it to the Boys and Girls Club of Venice. I met the Art Director there who was more than thrilled by my artistic donation. He gave me a tour of the art room, invited me to their craft fair, and just before I left—gave me a big hug. I’m excited that all of those things will go to good use. They might even inspire a few more creatives who will one day transform into crazy, semi-hoarding, glitter nerds—just like me.

My second stop was the library. Could I have sold my books on Amazon? Obviously, yes. But I didn’t want to. The knowledge of, but not limited to: crafting, balloon animals, break ups, Diablo Cody’s year as a stripper, Mystery’s pick up lines, and “Why Men Love Bitches”, shouldn’t be exclusive to only those who have money to shop online.

The Goodwill was my last stop. I donated three bags of clothing, including the outfit I wore on my last day at my first agency and some cha-cha shoes that made my calves look amazing, but would butcher my little pinky toes every time I wore them. Why do hot shoes always have to be such a-holes?! I also cleansed myself of twenty pairs of stockings that made me look like Mia Hamm. It actually felt amazing to get rid of those stupid things. They are strictly for pole legged girls.

I feel good about un-cluttering my life, but I also have that same feeling you get when you first look in the mirror after getting your hair cut super short—from being really long. I’ve done that twice in my life and both times, I totally cried afterwards. And like for days. Then for the next five years, I cursed each day and even wore extensions until my hair grew back out. I must be a distant relative of Sampson or something. My crafts were really the hardest things for me to part with, but I did it :)

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