Minimalist? Um...no

Hurricane Earl turned out to be mostly talk. But I didn't leave the house, got bored, and have been wandering from room to room, feeling kind of edgy. All of this wandering got me to wondering - why in the hell do I have so much stuff? And why have I kept it?

My friend J. likes lists; she's requested more lists. Which is sort of ironic, since I could probably write a fairly comprehensive list about things I saw at her bachelorette party that I wish I could un-see. Another time, perhaps. For now, and for sentimental reasons, here are 25 things you can find in my house that will be of no use whatsoever during a hurricane.

1) An ancient tin that, many years ago, held raisins from Malaga, Spain. My grandfather had it buried somewhere, stuffed with money, when I was a teenager. One day, he went and bought himself a new car, and when I went into their porch later that day, this muddy old tin was on the table, empty. I don't keep money in it, so no breaking in, please.

2) A plastic figure of Marie Antoinette. She has a removable wig and gown, and underneath she's sporting drab Conciergerie clothes and a buzz cut. When you press a button on her back, her head pops off. I realize this is in poor taste.

3) Bop-It. I've owned it for a few weeks. I'm obsessed. But you need to get to 100 to unlock the next level, and that is never going to happen.

4) Three little finger puppets of Friday Kahlo, Ernest Hemingway and Virginia Woolf. I should really buy the Freud finger puppet; he'd have a field day with those choices.

5) The obligatory giant souvenir glass from Planet Hollywood New York, circa 1992. The place was hopping. Saw my very first transvestite at the bar. It was awesome.

6) Ticket stubs from every musical I've ever seen. I think "Crazy for You" was my favourite for pizzazz, but "Rent" for emotion.

7) A tiny wooden idol a friend sent me from Timbuktu. Seriously; it's a real place. It makes me a little sad, because I miss him being in my life like he used to be.

8) A copy of the book "How to Procrastinate". Haven't got around to reading it yet.

9) My childhood Raggedy Ann doll. I didn't realize until my 20s that she and Andy were apparently clowns. Fuck.

10) A vintage lime green porcelain clock with gilded gold cherubs. My aunt's sister-in-law coveted it, but my aunt secretly gave it to me years ago. Her sister-in-law hasn't noticed yet. It's rococo fabulous, and it keeps great time.

11) A painting I made at a breast cancer event by applying paint to my boob and pressing it to a card. It's quite pretty, and sort of looks like a pansy. I'd always suspected my breasts were the real talent; this confirmed it.

12) A reproduction vintage menu I bought along the Seine on my last trip to Paris. It's pretty much steak and potatoes, but it sounds so much cooler in vintagey French.

13) A framed photo of a sign shaped like a giant pig with the word "Norcineria" on it. Took it outside a shop in a small village in Tuscany. Near as I could tell from looking in the shop, "norcineria" means "we sell parts of the animal you didn't know existed".

14) A denim and metallic floral, fur-lined cat carrier. It was a housewarming gift billed as "The world's gayest cat carrier". It is.

15) Four handpainted margarita glasses (2 senoritas, 2 senors who look a bit like Juan Valdez) that my mother bought me. In Newfoundland.

16) Bone china cups and saucers that belonged to my grandmother and, likely, my great grandmother. I would love to display them, but I have them on a very high shelf because I'm terrified I'll break them.

17) A Magic 8 "Beauty Ball". You're supposed to ask it fashion and beauty questions and it'll guide you. Where was this in the 80s?

18) A giant pair of slippers that look like Grumpy the dwarf's head. They're lovely and warm, but now that I have stairs, I can't wear them; they're huge, and pose a serious safety risk. One of my old cats was absolutely terrified of them.

19) A tiny teddy bear I've had since I was about a year old. He's yellowed and long ago lost his original neck ribbon. But I love him.

20) A little metal crazy lady who comes with magnetic cats you can stick to her. I think of it as my very own action figure.

21) A pair of windup lederhosen. Doesn't everyone have those?

22) A receipt from the first night I spent with a special someone. I mean a receipt from a restaurant or shop to commemorate the evening, not from the special someone. He was cash only.

23) Barbie clothes from the 70s. From the looks of it, my Barbies spent a fair bit of time at Studio 54.

24) My Brownie Record handbook. I was apparently able, at the time, to care for and tie my own tie, sew two types of buttons on actual garments,
and keep my room tidy for two weeks. Didn't stick. However, looks like I never got around to making a terrarium or preparing a package neatly for mailing. Slacker.

25) A cheese bell. Has anyone, ever, in the history of entertaining, actually used a cheese bell?

Will I get rid of any of this? Absolutely not. But now I want cheese. And a brownie.