brown paper packages tied up with string.

I've already spoken about some of the great stuff I have in my new place. But I have a lot more things that mean a lot to me. These are the things I would try desperately to save in the event of a fire. And are the reason I would most definitely perish in the event of a fire. In a crumbling, burning wreck of smoke and ashes and flames.
But I don't hold it against them. They're still my favourite things.


Talking Peppa Pig Doll

I friggn’ love Peppa Pig. I can’t even express how much I love Peppa Pig. This doll’s brilliance lies not only in its adorableness, but also in its conversation-saving properties. Awkward silence? Give this baby a squeeze! “I love jumping in muddy puddles!”  “SPLISH SPLASH SPLOSH!”  “I’m Peppa Pig!”  *snoooooort*
Saves the day every time.

Tiffany Necklace

Given to me by Boyus Angfriend for my 22^nd birthday, this necklace is not so much a beautiful decorative item of jewellery as it is an object of power to be wielded over other competing females.
It sends them nuts. It brings up all kinds of feelings of jealousy and inadequacy. The kind of feelings that can only be evoked by Something Shiny. The kind of feelings that result in murderous rage. The kind of feelings that are just delicious to be able to induce in others.
As far as jewellery goes, I would’ve been equally happy with a bracelet made of bottle caps or something. But in terms of pure, delectable, luxurious power-tripping? This beauty gets the job done. It assures my place as Alpha Female. It allows me to rule supreme and assert my dominance. And boy, how it sparkles.

Chocolate Wrapper Scrapbook

I eat a lot of chocolate. A lot. And much of it comes in pretty wrapping. Sometimes the wrapping is better than the chocolate. Often, I’m sure the expensive price tag is due solely to the packaging costs, rather than the product contained within. In order to ensure I get my money’s worth – and because I enjoy hoarding pretty things – I started scrapbooking the wrappers. It’s like a family album. I flick through the pages and I take a beautiful, sentimental journey down gastronomic-memory lane.

Clock

It’s the best clock ever. And if you’re not sure whether it’s a dog or a Dino-Duck (as Boyus Angfriend suspected), there’s a handy picture of a dog – with a fluffy tail! – on the face to set you straight.

Signed Copy of 'American Gods'

One of my favourite books by one of my favourite [living] authors. I babbled senselessly the night I met Neil Gaiman. I giggled and cried. I made funny guffawing honking sounds. I tried to make jokes but they weren't very good (ie. "HA HA HA YOUR NAME IS NEIL. NEIL GAIMAN. HA HA HA. YOU DUN WRITE THE BOOKS! I CAN READ THEM. HA HA HA.".... yeah. It wasn't pretty). He was very kind to me, all things considered, and I came out of it with a signed copy of the book that makes me feel the most stuff of any book ever.


Stupidly Girly Espresso Set

Tea parties are renowned for being frilly and pretty and feminine and girly. But what about coffee parties? Why can’t they be as sweet and decadent and flouncy and flowery and whimsical!? In my house, every cup of coffee is an embarrassing and emasculating experience.

Scarf-Case

When I visited my grandparents in England in 2008, I went exploring in their roof. I found all kinds of awesome old stuff up there. My favourite thing was this very old suitcase. Sometimes I like to drag it around and pretend that I’m a poor little orphan girl being evacuated from Nazi Germany or something. I call myself Liesbet and wear a bonnet and speak fondly of memories of making cheese with Papa at our farm in the countryside.

… but mostly I just use it to store my vast collection of scarves. Which are another of my favourite things.

Egg Cup

When I was little, mum used to make me soft-boiled eggs with heavily-buttered toast soldiers to dip in. I used to tap the top of the eggs with the back of a spoon to crack off its ‘hat’. Which is hindsight actually seems more like a violent act of skull-crushing. I loved boiled eggs with lots of salt and pepper (which was funny, because I didn’t like pepper on anything else). Sometimes I managed to convince her to let me dip potato chips in instead of toast. Which was actually probably a healthier option, given the amount of butter on the toast. Whatever. I’ve never eaten an egg out of this particular egg cup, but I enjoy looking at it very much.

Baseball

Another Boyus Angfriend birthday gift. Used to massage my 'hurty bits'. This baseball brings me joy and pleasure of a frighteningly near-sexual nature. I dig it into my sore hips and crackling spine and all the problems of the world melt away. I'm kind of creepy like Tom Hanks with Wilson the volleyball in 'Castaway'. But more...erotic. I don't know if he intended me to feel this way about his birthday present. He's effectively rendered himself completely redundant. He might as well have given me a vibrator or dildo or personal wild Tarzan man sex slave. I no longer need him...I have my baseball.

Diaries

For a brief period from 2005-2007 (tapering off into vacuous rambling from 2008-present), I experienced a sudden and unexpected surge of eloquence. I channelled this into several diaries, which I have never been able to consistently and regularly maintain before or since. Rarely do I look back on something that I’ve written with pride – mostly past creations just bring about cringing and eye-twitches – but I am truly amazed whenever I read over pages from these diaries. Amazed in a good way. Amazed in a ‘sometimes I really don’t suck!’ way. It’s a good feeling.

Big Shiny Ridiculous Borderline Tacky Mirror

Borderline tacky, but still damn expensive. Bought from a wildly eccentric – though very well-dressed – French antique dealer. I love it. It’s stupid. It’s over the top. And it’s currently fairly redundant, as it’s so heavy I haven’t yet been able to hang it on my wall. But if I ever want to look at my feet in lavish, Baroque-esque setting, then I’m prepared.
[you will notice me, reflected in this mirror. For the record, I am also one of my favourite things]

Chocolate Box Jewellery Boxes

Never wanting anything to go to waste – and being too lazy/stingy to go to the trouble of finding some kind of proper storage method for my jewellery – I recycled the boxes from expensive chocolates. And now my sparkly pretty adornments have the bonus of being ever-so-slightly chocolate-scented.

Giant Tea Cup and Elephant Tea Bag Canister

Holding this teacup is fun because it makes me feel like a midget or one of the little people in Lilliput in Gulliver’s Travels. It also allows me to drink a shitload of tea (or coffee, or apple juice, or hot chocolate, or tequila) all at once. My elephant tea bag canister was stolen from my mum, who has about 13 of them (including a Santa-suit-clad Christmas edition).

Framed Birthday Cards

From most people, birthday cards are pointless and ugly and a waste of paper, filled with boring generic messages. And end up in my recycling bin pretty shortly after being read. Sorry well-meaning friends. I am a cruel, cruel, heartless woman. My mum, however, has a knack for choosing great birthday cards. Some years, she’ll give me a few. It’s awesome! So now I frame them. And so a standard has been set and every year is a source of great anxiety for her, lest my house be poorly decorated.

Watch

Boyus Angfriend calls this my 'pirate watch'. I love it because it's huge and clunky. I love its buckles and worn leather. And because it makes me feel like a pilgrim and Robin Hood and a medieval knight and Pocahontas and a buccaneer and an explorer and a cowboy and some kind of forest-dwelling wood nymph. All at once.

Apostrophe Atrocity Defence Kit

My English teacher in high school knew my strong feelings about apostrophe abuse, and so equipped me with this handy sticker set to deal with atrocities as they arise. While there have been many (many) occasions that called for its use, I can’t bring myself to waste them. So I have it on my fridge instead, as a constant reminder of all the is Good and Right and Just and Beautiful.

EAT SOUP! Mug

I love this mug and have another one at work. I’ve never actually eaten soup out of it, but I love its enthusiasm and aggression…. EAT SOUP…….DO IT…….. DOOOOO ITTTTT. YOU WILL EAT SOUP AND GODDAMMIT, YOU WILL LIKE IT.

Painted Shoes

I painted these on one boring day of summer holidays when I was about 16. I think I was trying to be arty and alternative and badass. But somewhere along the way I got confused and thought 'badass' meant 'lime green with pictures of trees and birdies and pink flowers.'
YEAHHHHHHHH PUNK'S NOT DEAD WOOOOOOOOO. SATAAAAAAN.

John Brack Prints

I absolutely love John Brack. I find his work wonderfully creepy and sinister. Which is probably why I framed some of his prints (very poorly… picture framing is clearly not my calling in life) and hung them on my walls….as a measure to deter thieves and intruders and rapists. YOU THINKING OF BREAKING IN HERE? SCARY CRANKY SULKY GIRL IS WATCHING YOU. SHE'S GONNA STAMP HER FOOT AT YOU SO GOOD. YOU BEST TURN YO'SELF AROUND AND NEVER RETURN. YEAH. SUCK IT.

Infringement Notice

My dear friend FluffyCrouch made me this 'infringement notice' to stick on the new fridge of my new place, with my shiny new magnets. Little did she know I receive warnings like this pretty much daily. It's not easy being a sexpot. Everyone's always trying to bring you down.