My dear friend, EverywhereEventually, wrote a blog post on things he has collected which, bizarrely, includes "Leather bookmarks from British stately homes."
So I began to think about things I have collected.
And here's what I came up with:
- Wrinkles
- Fat deposits
- Shoes with heels so high I can't wear them
- Intolerance for minor, petty things
- Hair - in my hairbrush and in my shower plughole
- Blocked follicles that turn into pimples wherever I depillate
- Split finger nails
- Athlete's foot bacteria
- Dog hairs - all over my house
- Chin hairs
- Gaudy jewellery I don't like but won't donate to charity
- Pretty blouses that are too small which I will "thin into in six months"
- Hemarroids
- Jeans which are too small which I will "thin into in six months"
- A bikini I bought in a flash of insanity which I will never, ever wear
- Odd socks
- Certificates of this and that, including my First Communion
- The entire works of Charles Dickens, in a box in storage in the UK, unread
- Men who wanted to f#$k me but not have me as a girlfriend
- Insecurities
- Therapists
- Antidepressants
- Vitamins, supplements, powders
- Massage therapists
- Little samples of cosmetics/facial products which I never use
- Out of date sunscreen sprays and creams
- Old medecines which I can't remember what they were prescribed for
- Scarves and pashminas
- Lingerie I never wear
- Adult pleasure toys I never use
I need that woman on British Telly to come and help me clean out my house. But I am not sure I'd want my lingerie and other unmentionables strewn on my front lawn. And what would the Red Cross do with my d$$$os?