You can get some awesome falderal when you go thrifting. I don’t know if my love for it stems from having grown up relatively poverty-stricken all my life, with a mother who could make our house cozy and welcoming by utilizing bits of wood, safety pins, scraps of fabric, and an assortment of K-mart acrylics, but for whatever reason, I love thrifting and always have. Combing through crammed and dusty shelves and finding an item that I instantly fall in love with, knowing that somebody else had once loved it too, makes me feel like a museum curator… some kind of poor man’s caretaker of memories.
Lorraine said yesterday that she loves living in an old house because it contains layers, and that’s what thrifting feels like to me: there are layers upon layers of emotion attached to these items, and I get to add my own to their history. Plus, they’re cheap and unique, like me! I am also a whore, which–if you don’t mind me continuing to apply metaphors irresponsibly–I suppose thrift store items are as well. They’ll do anything to be loved, anything, even if it means selling themselves for a quarter. Neither thrift store items, nor I, are proud, but you’ve probably figured that out by now, because you are the most incredible, intelligent, beautiful, gifted person I’ve ever met in my LIFE. I am just blown away by you. Do you think I’m pretty?
Guess where I’m going this weekend! Noooo, you’re wrong, that’s not where. I’m going to the beach! Scott and I are going to Seaside for a couple days, just to lounge and walk around on the sand and window shop and read and, if I can talk him into it, play a variety of card games. I think it important to overemphasize right now how much I idolize the ocean, especially at the Oregon coast; it’s my favorite animule in the universe, and I’ve only been back twice since we moved home last summer. It’s supposed to rain all weekend, but I don’t care! OCEAN! My great, good friend! Since we’ll be leaving around one-ish, this morning I’m going to have to pack, ugh. I utterly detest packing, but it’s for a good cause: Me, Down By the Sea. That sounds like a likely song title, doesn’t it?, so maybe while I’m there I’ll write a song. Which reminds me of a time I DID write a song, a gorgeous song that I made up while in the shower, and proudly sang it for a friend a week or so later. She laughed and told me that, yes, it was a great song, especially considering the fact that it was HERS, and proceeded to sing it with the original lyrics. If my unwitting plagiarism hadn’t been so hilarious, I would have been mortified, but as it was, I was just disappointed. It was a really freaking beautiful song. Dammit. Love! xo