Four pink teacups that are part of a larger dining set I’ve rarely used because I love it too much to break it.

A mug from Heidelberg, which is a lot more German than the aforementioned German-inspired mug.

A mug from the Christkindl in Denver I went to last winter, which came included with the purchase of mulled wine at an outdoor festival in a heated tent.

Two mugs from Women’s Initiative, the group I ran in college.

Four matching mugs Geneva just got me for my birthday that say “LOOKING GOOD!” and have pink flamingos on them.

This blue and brown mug I gave Josh for his birthday and he left behind in my dorm when the semester ended.

When it comes to hoarding, I think Pokemon merchandise might be my root.Ī rough list of the mugs I can’t say goodbye to: Inside that plastic goodie bag is a piece of a tablecloth from that party. Inside of it are a bunch of energy cards, a Pikachu toy from Burger King, and a plastic goodie bag with Ash on the front from a party I went to in 1999. Inside of a vintage suitcase (see below) in a closet under the stairs in my house there is a metal tin I bought for a dollar as kid with photos of Eevee and their evolutionary forms on the front.

Totally Unremarkable Pokemon Stuff From When I Was a Kid Just so we’re all clear, I can’t light a match to save my life.ĩ. Matchbooks I didn’t even get myself, but instead have collected through other people in an attempt to live vicariously through them. But I’m starting to realize I’m not a connoisseur of anything so much as just a total fucking weirdo. When you “collect” things, it means you’re entitled to more of them than is practical, treasure them irrationally, and display them wherever the f*ck they look best in the house. Once I realized this, I began “collecting” things so that I could, well, have things, which matters a lot to me because of that whole not having things thing that is my entire life.

The Autostraddle Encyclopedia of Lesbian Cinema.LGBTQ Television Guide: What To Watch Now.

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