Friday, June 3, 2011

Photo Envy (or Stuffed Animal Hoarder)

I got a new camera.  Yeah, I know I already talked about this, but you know, it's kind of a big deal for me to spend half of my monthly take-home wages on what is, essentially, a toy.

New camera sitting next to the pancake lens.  TWO lenses.  TWO.  (Photo taken with the old camera.  Talk about adding insult to injury.)


When I was a little kid I was obsessed with toys.  Mostly, it was stuffed animals, but there were quite a few dolls thrown in as well.  It wasn't that I was greedy, exactly, but I would rate my desire to rescue every single toy I ever came in contact with against my ability to acquire it, and how likely it would be able to follow me home if I abandoned it.

I didn't love them.

I pitied them.

And that pity was mixed with fear.

I looked around for some of my old toys, and was surprised to find them.  They were hidden in corners and stuffed in closets at random.  This is Kanga, with Roo in her belly pocket.  I think this belonged to my older brother originally.

I'm not sure when or how it happened, but at some point in my childhood, I stopped being worried that one of my stuffed animals would be sad if I left them off the bed at night, and more worried about the resentment they would feel for being slighted.

And what they would do with that resentment.

OK, this is a new one.  It belongs to the dog.  And it hates me for giving it to her.

I could not show favoritism, even if I had a favorite.  If I did, the toy would get revenge. Even if that meant I'd smother under 50lbs of plush dread, I could not leave anyone on the floor.  The one I left out of my protective circle on the bed would end up being the one that snapped.

If I woke up in the morning and had accidentally kicked my stuffed hippopotamus on to the floor while I slept, I would live in terror of closing my eyes the next night, because it might decide it had had enough, and eat me in my sleep.

I mostly blame my older brother, who would wake me up in the middle of the night when we were small and tell me about how the toys were moving my themselves, and how he saw a shadow of a girl jumping rope (just the shadow, no girl) in the hall so we couldn't get Mom and Dad.  We were trapped.  And then he would tell me about how the ghosts would torment the toys all night when I was asleep.

Coupled my own imagination, and I did not hesitate to continue down the path of insane dread of inanimate objects that he had started, I lived in a wonderland of terror (this may be why I still need a night light to sleep).


I created a complicated rotation of toys at some point, telling them to look out for each other and fight off the ghosts.  I was hesitant with this one, but I really couldn't fit any more stuffed animals on my bed


I created a complicated rotation of toys at some point, telling them to look out for each other and fight off the ghosts.  I was hesitant with this one, but I really couldn't fit any more stuffed animals on my bed

Anyway.

New camera.  Gets lots of attention.

I think my old Canon is getting jealous.

It was a good little camera.  And while I hesitate to say it was not good enough, I did want more.  It's trustworthy.  I know where it is good at it's job, and I know where it fails.  And now I just abandon it?  To something sleeker and younger?

The Nex is pretty sexy, though...

The Canon and I had some good times.  It's not my fault that technology changed, and it was showing its age.  I'm not an ogre.  We can still hang out sometimes, if it wants.  If I have time.  But mostly it's time to move on.

12 comments:

hoodyhoo said...

OHMAHGAWD, I did EXACTLY the saem thing, to the point where the stuffed animals would take up all the space and I would fall in the floor! I finally started locking the ones I got "suspicious" of in the closet... is it time for my pills yet?

Julia said...

Oh I saw the sequal to this.... Mom takes them all to a daycare center... Maybe you should do that... wait... actually scrap that...they found a way back. What you should do is go rent a mulching machine...put them all in, make sure to mix up the "mulch" well. Then BURN them... (I don't want to scare you but Kanga looks like she is planning your murder).

LeeAnn said...

I have boxes and boxes of stuffed animals to this day. Terrified to give them away for fear: they'll tell all my secrets and: they'll come back in the night and GET me. Yet I secretly loved them and therefore can't shred them for my own safety.
Owning stuffed animals is rather like having an unstable ex. Hmmm.

thoughtsappear said...

I used to feel the same way about stuffed animals. I used to rotate which one got to sleep me every night so everyone would get a turn.

Leauxra said...

Holy crap! I'm not the only one that was scared of their own toys?!?!?!? Luckily, my parents donated most of them when I moved out (the first time), which is why I am surprised (and horrified) that there are any around at all.

hoodyhoo: Closet is *almost* a good idea, except that's where the alien/ghosts were, and those animals would definitely go insane if left there overnight.

Julia: Some day, I will make a movie. Like Toy Story, but more realistic with the crazy. I am pretty sure I DO have to burn them and scatter their ashes to be sure they won't come back, but what if they come back as STUFFED ANIMAL GHOSTS?!?! WHAT THEN?

LeAnn: Yeah, you should never have trusted them with your secrets. Now they have an edge, and they will hold it over you FOR LIFE.

thoughtsappear: I am so impressed that I am not the only one to do this, but I was always worried I would forget someone and the resentment would be palpable.

Martinezster said...

Haha, I felt this same way. To make it even worse, when I was a little girl my grandma told me that at night my dolls came to life. I am sure she meant well, but to me the damage was done. lol.

Leauxra said...

Yeah, seriously. The more I think about it, the more I want to make a short film called "The REAL Toy Story".

Julia said...

My twin sister always slept with me and there was no room for toys on our bed... my toys resented me but I just held a knife to raggady ann's throat and they all backed off!!

Daniel said...

Hmmm, interesting that I'm associated with many of your childhood fears . . . no need to thank me, that's what big brothers are for.

Leauxra said...

Yeah, thanks, Dan. I am still planning to get even. Some day.

andtheletterm said...

I used to have one that slept with me, and all the rest had their own 'beds', and I'd carefully tuck them all in at night so that they didn't get cold, and I'd reassure them that they were just as loved...

I didn't get scared of them though, I was just upset that I didn't get to be awake for the adventures they were getting up to at night.

Leauxra said...

andtheletterm: I think that's awesome that you didn't have to fear your toys. Part of my problem was an older brother who shared my room for the first few years of my life. He had quite the active imagination, and he loved to share his nightmares with me.