Something I'm Good At - Blog Carnival

This week’s Blog Carnival post theme is “Something I’m Good At”.

I am really good at keeping things. Like too good. Like if you said, “Lizzy could you please look after this scrap of paper for me?” I would put it away safely in one of my shoeboxes and in 6 years could bring it out and say, “did you still want this?” I don’t know why but I just keep stuff. It just happens. 

Recently a dear friend of mine sent me a letter addressed to herself. It was a work of comedic gold about how her future self should and should not behave should she have a wedding. My friend sent this to me for comedy reasons, but also because she knew I could keep it and pull it out at the right moment YEARS in the future if she broke any of the rules laid out in this letter.

I am hesitant to call myself a hoarder. I don’t want to claim a label that applies to people who can’t leave their own homes due to stuff. I don’t want to be like those people who say they have OCD when what they mean is they are neat. I do not have a house filled with 10 year old newspapers and ice-cream containers. Which is probably for the best. But I am pretty good at keeping stuff.

Plus, I have a lot of the symptoms of hoarding.

I keep stuff automatically, without thinking about it.
I become very agitated if I think about getting rid of things.
I will often ignore or refuse to look at a pile of things I logically know need to go.
I get really sad when I do throw things away.

In fact, I develop such an emotional attachment to the things I “hoard” that I have been known to cry when someone mentions getting rid of them. 

I don’t keep everything, but I keep “important” things - like photos, letters, tickets, notebooks, etc. And I keep clothes. I’m not even particularly fashion conscious. I don’t even love clothes all that much. But I find it incredibly difficult to throw them away. So I have a large pile of clothes that 1. don’t fit me, 2. have holes in them or 3. I no longer like to wear. 

So that’s my “Something I’m Good At” and this is all a really round about way of saying I managed to overcome my emotional attachment to a bunch of clothes last night. I pulled every item of clothing I own and shoved it on the bed. I put a bunch of stuff I’m not particularly attached to in a bag for charity, that’s fine, I can cope with that. But then I still had a pile of things I don’t wear but I can’t let go of… because it made me sad to think about. These items I threw in a massive bucket.

I told you I had a problem

Then I started making this:

It grew:

And grew:

And grew some more: 

It is now larger than my lap...

And now I have a fancy rug, clean shelves and no regrets. PLUS I can keep this rug and see the skirt I bought in year 12, the spotty dress I wore almost every day for a whole summer, all the black shirts from shows I’ve worked on and whatever else I add to it in the coming months. It was a spectacular cure for feeling sad about letting go. 

I suppose I’m good at making circular crotchet rugs from old clothes now too. So that’s nice.

Want to make a rug? The Art Assignment will tell you all about it here, further instructions here. 

What else is happening this week at the blog carnival?

Stay tuned for links... 

Lizzy King, Human - A Study. Tour!

Europe Tour

Life Advice

I think by now it has been pretty well documented that I like to hoard. So it should come as no surprise to you that I have kept one box for each of the two overseas trips I have undertaken in my life. So these are extra boxes, boxes in excess of the annual boxes. Today’s blog comes to you care of a box marked “Tour. Dec 2004 – Jan 2005”. It contains travel documents and tourist brochures, mementos and weird shit I picked up along the way.

I was very privileged to be a member of the St Peters Chorale. Much more than a school choir, the chorale has recorded and performed music all over the world, and in late 2004 it was our turn. I got a casual job more than a year beforehand and saved up the majority of the cost of the trip, something I was and am very proud of. We spent 4 weeks travelling through England, the Czech Republic, Poland, Hungary, Austria and Switzerland. We performed to 10 people in some places, 100s in others and notably, to about 1500 in Poland where we were also broadcast on TV. It was an amazing trip, and this box provides a small glimpse into what 16-year-old Lizzy thought about it all. (Actually this is a really weird snapshot and doesn't even really begin to cover half of what we did, a fraction of what I felt or a smidgeon of how important this trip was but anyway, it's good).

Items – Fanta bottles – 2005

It’s always exciting, I think, when you go to a new place and things are the same but different. Here we have a mango flavoured Fanta with not-so-mango colours and a “Vadmalna” flavoured Fanta. I’ve googled it but I can’t find a translation that tells me what flavour that is. I’d love to assume “grape” going by the colours, but with the mango colours as an example, we may never know. The best/grossest part? They still kinda smell like Fanta.

Item – City Info Guide to Wien – 2005

We know Wien as Vienna. There’s a lot of great stuff to see and do in Vienna, and I have a distinct memory of the snow being kind of like little perfectly round balls, like tiny beanbag beans. Please note the sticker advertising the Toilet of Modern Art - that was a cool place. And the art was good too.

Item – Brochure and Ticket to the Salt Mine – 2005

Oh my god, if you EVER go to Europe, promise me you’ll go to the Wieliczka Salt Mine in Poland. It’s a bit scary if like me you are claustrophobic, but ultimately the awe and wonderment you feel vastly outweighs any fear. It’s a giant, underground museum, and the walls are made of salt. The tour guides carry lemons with them in case anyone brings their own tequila, true fact. There’s a massive cathedral carved out of the salt down there, and the salt has been so beautifully polished, it looks like marble. Just fucking go, alright?

Item – Terrifying Kinder child – 2005

The Aryan ideals live on in this child.

If "Kinder" means child, is Kinder Chocolate made from Children?

Item – Post-it Notes from my Mum – 2004

She left these in my luggage everywhere. She’s the best.

She even wrote a love note in the waistband of my jeans

Letters – from my ex-boyfriend – 2005

Ah, I won’t go into too much detail here because I haven’t gotten permission from all parties involved but basically, I was in one relationship when I left for Europe and another when I returned. It was one of those unfortunate situations where I didn’t really want to be in relationship 1 when we left, but I couldn’t very well break up with him at Christmas time and right before we went away together, and I didn’t think that relationship 2 would ever happen. And then relationship 2 looked quite feasible and relationship 1 was really quite unhappy, so I just casually thought it would be a good idea to pull a switcheroo while we were as far from home as it was possible to be, surrounded by other teenagers and on strict behavioural instructions. It’s got to be right up there with one of the dumbest things I’ve ever done*. The letters range from being exceedingly angry to fairly forgiving, epitomising, I think, how strange it was to play out big emotional changes while in a sort of suspended reality – a reality where we could be arguing in the snow, then singing in a concert 20 minutes later and laughing on the bus an hour after that.

* Though in saying that, relationship 2 went quite well for quite a long time afterwards and the boy from relationship 1 did some pretty fucked up shit later on so… I don’t know what I’m trying to say here, I should stop trying to find absolution for shit 16-year-old Lizzy did.

Item – Fudge Kitchen Wrapper – 2004

Yes! Jim’s fudge kitchen! This was a place in England that made some of the best damn fudge I have ever tasted. And they made it all right there in the shop. 

A bunch of people from the tour asked to see Jim (presumably to thank him for his delicious fudge) and the guy behind the counter said, “ah… Jim’s kinda like Yoda” ... “in that he doesn’t exist”.

Item – Crystal Worlds Brochure – 2005

Is this not the most terrifying face you’ve ever seen? Even more terrifying than Kinder child? I saw this face in real life. Nothing can really prepare you for how weird the Swarovski Crystal World is.

And extensive counselling can't make you forget

Item – Arty sugar packets containing what is now almost 8 year old sugar – 2005

Gross.

Totes put them back in the box

Lizzy King, Human - A Study. Box 4, Part 1.

2004 – the fourth box, better known as the ‘Why the Fuck did I Keep this Shit Box?”

(If you're wondering what the flip is going on, start here).

For the most part, this box is kind of boring. NO WAIT, DON’T LEAVE. I will try to pick out some of the more interesting bits for you. I think by this stage of the hoarding adventure I was thinking more along the lines of “accurately representing my life” like some kind of time capsule, rather than “keeping things that are of genuine or significant value” like some kind of interesting blog fuel.

There are bus tickets and receipts, RECEIPTS for fuck’s sake. There’re programs for music concerts I wasn’t even involved in, and a giant plastic bag for no reason. So this is just a smattering, a hand picked few, a small selection of vaguely interesting things from my life circa 2004.

Item – Notes taken in Study of Religion – 2004

So we are fast approaching what I have suddenly decided to call the “Atheist Event Horizon”. At this point I was still a Christian, but damn was that faith wavering. I had a lot of questions, and Christianity was quickly failing to answer them. I was studying other religions and belief systems and some of them were answering them, and some of them weren’t, but they sure as hell were convincing me that just one religion couldn’t be the be all and end all. I was also, *obsessed* with death. I don’t even know why. I know that somewhere, possibly in this box, or possibly not, there is a list of things I wanted said at my funeral. I was afraid of missing out on life, afraid that cool things would happen without me, afraid that heaven would be a sap-fest; full of happy stupid people.

These notes are quotes from my textbook. I think they sum up how I was feeling at the time quite nicely:

Item – Headbands – 2004

I wasn’t even that into sport, but for some reason I kept two headbands bearing the name of my sports house, “Cawley”. Our house was named after Evonne Goolagong Cawley, the famous tennis player. Of course, Cawley is her husband’s name, but it would be a cold day in hell before my fancy private school will name the house, “Goolagong”.

woo sport

Photo – Semi-formal group shot – 2004

I won’t include any of the other peeps in this photo, because I can’t be bothered to ask them all permission (or actually track them down in some cases) but damn, look at those shoes. The flower in my hair is also in this box.

Claw hand?

Item – Signed Poster – 2004

VaPar was a pretty awesome thing I was involved in. I got a main role in the play much to everybody’s surprise including my own. We did our own telling of the King Arthur story in a physical theatre piece. It was actually not anywhere as awful as that sounds. I played the lady of the lake and had bells in my costume, it was fucking awesome. This is the poster for the thing, everyone signed it.

The whole poster didn't fit in my scanner but you get the gist.

Item – School Diary – 2004

Grade 11 was probably the first time I was properly comfortable in my friendship groups. That’s not to suggest I had bad friends before that, but things did shift a bit in grade 11 and a number of the people I became friends with that year are still my friends to this day. Most notably my friend Mim. I don’t know why I mention that, it’s not relevant to the diary, I just thought you all might like to know. Hi Mim.

No but what I’m getting at is that this diary (which is just like a daily planner by the way, not a “ow my feelings” thing) kind of reflects my own development into the person I am today. I mean, I still had a long way to go. But here we find evidence of my love of planning and studying (yeah, nerd 4 lyf). Things are colour coded and here and there you’ll find ideas for essay paragraphs or notes to self about assessment. (Oh there’s a cute one here about Darcy’s pride and Lizzy’s Prejudice). My friends birthdays are all written in by them, happily and amusingly. No one is crossed out, there’s no snipy little comments from yours truly, and there are fun things cut out of magazines.

There’s no real evidence of the 5-week derailment of my life that was Glandular Fever at the end. Not unless you’re looking closely. There is less daily homework written in (because I wasn’t going to school) but all the assessment and exam stuff is still there because I was frighteningly (and fairly stupidly) determined to get it all done in spite of the fact that my spleen was four times its usual size. I spent most of my time in bed, waking up every four hours for medicine and bizarre juices my mother had made. I had tonsillitis, laryngitis and the aforementioned giant spleen. I still managed to do those exams, though, and I remember being almost hysterical by the last one. Which was biology. I drew a smiley face for the final answer and left with my shoes around my neck. Good times.

Item – Creaming Soda wrapper – 2004

Here’s a perfect example of the random shit I kept in this box. Why, why, why, would I keep something like this? I have a vague recollection that we thought it was funny how giant the creaming soda is compared to the dude holding it, but even still. Just what. Juuust what. 

I mean I guess it is kinda funny...

Lizzy King, Human - A Study. Box 3 Part 2

Item – Really Bad Poetry – 2003

I think it’s meant to be funny but the title of this poem is “Don’t Judge us You Stupid Hypocritical Stereotypists” and to be honest just writing that out makes me want to jump through time and strangle Teen Lizzy until it is no longer possible for me to have done so due to a paradox.

Item – Bag of Letters sent to me while at Ironbark – 2003

Hot damn there is a tonne of letters here. I honestly am not going to read them right now. I mean just look at that. How did I get so many letters in 5 weeks? I especially enjoy that the handful of the ones I did read from my mum all make jokes about my lack of response. There are lots here from family, but most are from friends. I think there’re so many because mine was one of the last classes to go so everyone else in our grade knew what it was like and how exhilarating it was to receive a letter (or 5) on mail day. Pleasant.

Item – Handwritten Story – 2003

Well it’s the start of a story. I think I may actually have a later draft still saved somewhere on my laptop. This was one of my first novel ideas. It was a love story between my 16-year-old protagonist, Matt, and a girl at his new school called Eminine. She hates her name, obviously. This is an ~interesting character trait~. It’s really not very good story writing, but it was the first time, I think, I put pen to paper and actually allowed myself to create stories. And therefore, this is one of my most treasured possessions.

I didn't choose the thug lyf etc

Photo – Sleeping small Lizzy – c. 1993 maybe?

Not sure why this is in the box, as it’s obviously from a lot earlier, but it is. It’s adorable. My parents took this photo, I think, because they wanted to document one of their favourite things about me: how I always fell asleep reading/with books on me.

Items – Collection of Birthday cards – 2003

Fifteen is a good age to be I think. My favourite card is the one on top. It’s from my family, but Charlie (aged 6) drew and wrote in it. It says inside, “Happy Birthday Lizzy. Lizzy it is your 15^th Birthday Love from Daddy Mummy Charlie BANO xo

XO bitch, XO

Some notes:

- “Bano” is Charlie’s spelling of “Banko” which was our family’s pet name for the as yet not born Sally.

- We do actually have another sibling but Charlie seems to have decided he is not a member of our family.

Oh no wait there is another card here that was most likely drawn by the 3-year-old Patrick. Perhaps the scribble is his angry, artistic response to be being left out.

P is for Patrick and Poking your brother with a stick

Items – Letters and Photos from Felix – DESTROYED in 2003.

The funny thing about having small siblings when you’re a teenager is that everyone is jealous. They want to come over and play with the babies. They offer to your mother to feed and change your siblings. They ask incessant questions about cute things they do. And hey, don’t get me wrong, I LOVED having baby siblings when I was a teenager, just as I love having pre-teen and teen siblings now as a young adult. It’s a very different experience to most people’s and is a defining feature of my idea of myself. BUT can you imagine?! You’re never sure if your friends actually like you or they just like kiddies. You want to hang out and do teen girl things and they are FUCKING OFFERING TO LOOK AFTER THE SQUIDGY THING, you get to look after her anytime you want and that means it’s not something you just offer to do.

And here’s the big thing. Kids wreck shit. My full-length mirror: SMASHED, my fancy blue jelly candle: ANNIHILATED... with a SPOON, and my favourite childhood book, Letters from Felix: RIPPED, DESTROYED and made STICKY with some sort of lolly.

These are some of the ripped out envelopes and letters from the book. Basically, a girl’s toy bunny gets lost at the airport and then goes on a world tour, sending her letters along the way. It is pretty much the most adorable thing and I was SO CAREFUL with it my whole childhood. Never lost any of the bits, never even used the stickers that were in the suitcase on the back page and then one day I discovered it RUINED by SQUIDGY CHILDREN.

This story has a happy ending. My mum looked everywhere for a replacement book for me, and never could. And then one day she saw it in the bookshelf at my brother’s kindy and bought it from them. So now I have a copy. And no squidgy small people around to ruin it.

Dear squidgy not so small people that I am related to, I love you, I do.

So anyway. I’m beginning to think that I will stop analysing these boxes at the end of Grade 12 (2005). I’ve kept one every year since then too, but I feel like it’s too soon or something. But I just love this project, and I hope you do too. I’ve had an idea that you are welcome to get involved in. I’m going to make a tumblr page that you can submit YOUR hoarded photos, letters, etc to, preferably with a little story to go with it. I will be putting this together in the next week or so, so stay tuned.