Skulls have jumped the shark

I was really into the skull thing back when it was fresh. I loved the dichotomy of skulls + pretty (in the same way I loved pink/pretty camo before it became *a thing*).

But between the fact that skulls are now everywhere, and the fact that the past few years have reminded me that death really can insert itself anywhere, I no longer find them as amusingly attractive as I used to. This skull-bedecked running headband was in a bathroom drawer, and it's time for it to grace another runner's sweaty brow.

I'm back! And I'm getting rid of these cute shoes.

Can't remember the last time (if ever) I wore them. Out they go.

We Only Need One Box Full of Legos

If it doesn't fit in the green box (okay, okay, plus one more box that is not shown), then we don't need it.

Life is too short to own too many Legos.

Found in My Desk Drawer

Be off with you, unused supplies!

Still in Its Packaging

This was a great gag gift that I really loved. Writers really should come as action figures. I even liked the packaging, which is part of the reason why I never opened it.

But it's time for this to bless someone else's home. I found an interested buyer on the local buy/sell/trade forum. She now has a perfect Christmas gift for someone, and I am $10 richer.

If It Doesn't Fit Like It Used To

I bought this sweater at an LL Bean outlet in Maine while J and I were on our honeymoon. (It was August and I had packed no warm clothes. Silly me.)

This is how it looked on me two babies ago. Now it's a little less flattering. (Note: wearing a sweater while pregnant is a good way to stretch out a sweater. And I'm going to claim that's the real reason it looks less flattering. The sweater stretched. That seems plausible.)

In any case, it's a nice warm sweater, and it can bless someone else now.

A Crapton of Jewelry Counts for a Week's Worth, Right?

There is no love lost between myself and Suze Orman (who's retirement book consistently ranks slightly lower than mine, thankyouverymuch.) But something she talked about years ago has finally made sense to me.

Pictured: Wee beady eyes!

The woman only owns a single pair of earrings, which you can see pictured above. When I first heard about that 10 or so years ago, I thought it was stark, raving insanity. Why oh why would you choose to limit your jewelry in such a way?

Now, after having learned more about both minimalism and decision fatigue, I recognize that Orman might not have been wrong about the jewelry thing. (Other stuff, yes. Don't get me started on her branded prepaid debit cards.)

The actual jewelry box that I keep my jewelry in is something I'm very proud of. I paid for it with my first paid writing gig nearly ten years ago. I wanted a well-made, antique jewelry box that would theoretically help me be more organized with my jewelry. It is well-made and antique, and it offers plenty of storage possibilities. And yet, my beautiful jewelry box has always been a snarled mess that's covered in dust because I leave it open for fear of making an even more snarled mess.

Back when I was incredulous about Suze Orman's single pair of earrings, jewelry happened to be one of my gazingus pins. I could always use a new pretty bauble. And there was once a time when I wore jewelry every single day.

Then these guys came along, with all their what's-that-shiny-thing-I'm-gonna-pull-on-it-as-hard-as-I-can-hey-why-are-you-screaming-mama?

So I haven't regularly worn jewelry in over 4 years. Back when I wore jewelry, about half of my jewelry never made it into the rotation, and of the half that I wore there were still only about a half dozen pieces that were my go-to favorites.

So I decided to clean house. My rules were simple. I would keep:

1. Family jewelry
2. Items I always feel good to wear (of which there is a big overlap with the family jewelry)
3. Items that I truly love, even if I only wear them once or twice a year.

Pictured is about two thirds of my collection, which is heading out the door.

My now organized jewelry box is a thing of extreme beauty:

Of COURSE I didn't take a before photo. What do you take me for, some kind of competent blogger?

It hurts to get rid of many pieces. For instance, there was a fairy necklace that I loved when I was 14 that is far too precious for me to wear now (and which I don't love anymore.) I'm a little sad to give up that connection to my teenage self, but having an organized jewelry box feels so much better than owning jewelry I know I won't wear again.

So now I'm going to say something that I hope I don't regret:

Suze Orman was actually right. (About this particular issue.)