Stuff in My Room

I'm hanging out in my room tonight.

Perhaps you've heard of it.
Yeah, it's that one.

I'm here partly because Precocious Daughter is having a friend spend the night, and they're in the family room watching movies, and somehow they've figured out how to turn the volume past 11.

I think they had some help from Nigel Tufnel.

For which volume I am too old.

But also, I just love being in my room. I love having my own room. I don't recommend to anyone that you split with your spouse but continue living together in an awkward, financially beneficial but emotionally weird situation. Because awkward and weird.

But I do love having my own room for the first time in almost 25 years. My own small, purple space where I can do whatever I want, as long as I don't do it so loudly that PDaughter can hear me through our shared wall. I like knowing that my bed will always be made, that there will be no towels left on the floor, that any mess that lives there is because I made it so and allowed it to be. It's a very Jewel thing.

Without that whole "I'm probably going to
stalk you" vibe.

And everything in my room is mine. Which can be a tough concept for some to grasp. Still, everything here is here because I want it to be here. Except that spot of cat vomit I just spotted on the carpet. I'll have to do something about that. But everything else.

Here are six things that are in my room, because they're mine and I love them.

1. This bolt of gorgeous fabric that I am totally going to make into a jacket or a dress, if I ever have the space to set up my sewing machine again.

This bolt represents maybe one-half of one percent of my fabric stash.
Yeah, it's all in here with me. Don't look under the bed.

2. This tambourine, given to me by Bestest Friend about 300 years ago. Because Davy Jones played one just like it, duh.

I play it at least as well as he did, rest his soul.

3. These buttons representing the stuff I thought was cool in high school. I wore these on my faux Members Only jacket. (Did you really think I was cool enough to wear a real Members Only jacket? Feh.)

Not pictured: Bob Dylan, the Buzzcocks, and about 20 more Beatles pins.

4. This bottle of 360 vodka, in the rare almost-full configuration.



Yum.

5. This gorgeous wooden box that looks totally mid-century, but was actually hand-made for me by a lovely woman named Bette who used to work for me. I'm still in awe, not only at her woodworking talent, but that she was willing to part with it to give it to me.

It slides open to reveal a tiny hidden drawer.
I wouldn't sell it for a thousand dollars.

6. Part of my army of cicada husks. Yes, I said part. What, you don't collect cicada husks and keep them in your room?

When I've had enough vodka, they sing me to sleep at night.

That's all you get to see, Drunkards. I don't want things to get weird. Maybe next time I'll show you the moose head over my bed.

OK, I made that up.

It's in the bathroom.