Things you bought and regretted.

Hating is such a strong word. I try my best not to. Even when things sour, I mention a dislike. Even when it comes to talking about the current government, I won't say, in particular, that I HATE it. Only because, well, that'd be what everyone else is doing at the moment!

So to say I hate something is to suffer from a severe buyer's remorse. I mean, to really, well, you know, strongly dislike, would mean that I had to accept a certain amount of loss, a certain amount of dissatisfaction, to the point where I would give up, totally.

I don't impulse buy. I like to think that it's an aspect of selflessness, some deep meaning, whereas I'm so connected to my faith that I askew all material existence and, truly want to give up things and live in a hovel in the woods, pooping in an outhouse and meditating.

Yeah. Right.

But there's a half-truth here. I'm just not one for things. My grandparents on my father's side were hoarders. As a grand kid? It was incredible. They always said they were into 'antiques,' and, for many of my aunts and uncles, they let that be the excuse and allowed us to run around the filthy home for hours. I read my uncles old magazines, played with my father's tinkertoys, and puzzles my aunts had left in the bedrooms years ago.  There were paths that led from room to room, piled high on either side with various detritus and games of hide and seek with the neighborhood kids would go for hours.

My mother noticed my minimalism as a teen.  Frequently she would find piles of whatnot, tossed from my above garage add-on, find little comfort in the old yearbooks, cool souvenirs from various trips, and books that I had reread. Personally, I don't recall those exact moments as she described them, but, something was for sure. When I got my apartment. Art was on the walls. The furniture was cheap. And I tried to keep buying at a minimum. I probably would not have even moved up to the digital age if it weren't for my need to pen a Master's thesis.

But it is with this attitude I approach buying. Everything fun I tend to get is a gift, increasing it's worth and need. The only time I see myself going bonkers is when I'm away from home. It's like the bank vaults are unlocked and I loose all composure. Thank Fate I moved to Florida. It got to the point that we would bring an extra suitcase with spare space to bring back the wangadoodles I would hurl in there.

That wasn't truly me.

But I loved everything I bought...there. No regrets.

However, to say there were a few fuckups? I can't deny.

SONY MINIDISC:

I was not an Apple person. I was a blood educator. I couldn't own nice things, not because I didn't want, but, well, I was living on an educator's salary. So as the world was running to purchase their iPods, which, to me, changed the world of music forever, I had to wait and count my pennies. With the computer, I elected to get this device and the program called Rhapsody. I had to, basically, sit in front of the computer, download the music I wanted from my own CDs. I suppose I could have just used the CD Walkman, but it would skip!

So this had to do.

It took forever. Basically, now I had 5 CDs on one mini disc. I had to exchange the medium for the songs I wanted to hear. And that mean carrying more of these strange cartridges to play tunes with. And then forgetting the playlist and having to just click, listen, click, listen...and since I couldn't hook it up to my Dodge Neon? Yeah, it would jsut play on the seat next to me.

Fuck Podcasts.

But the minor distractions proved to me that, maybe, just maybe, the iPod was the way to go. So I started to save and actually treated myself to the iPod iTouch, which changed the world for me. Games. Music. And, most of all, to this day...PODCASTS.

PIONEER LASERDISC

I knew when I was on my own, with the amount of movie watching I was going to do, I had to really be particular on what I choose as my media. I knew I had to have cable, that meant delaying furniture. And that meant a decent TV. Second paycheck.

But I had grown up addicted to VCRs.

I waited. I noticed that Laserdiscs were the thing of the moment in 1993, and I was hooked. There were three rental places in Colorado Springs and I was going to be set.

Within three years, puft, they were gone. DVDs had flooded the market.  Here's the thing, I kept noticing, given the larger size, they had bigger memory, and the movies were a bit clearer, and the sound was still, by far, better. And it could play CDs, which was cool, since I had not bought anything like that, yet.

But they were Laserdiscs. You had to flip them over halfway through the video. And not all titles were available.

And no porn. Especially gay porn. So, yeah, there was that.

I survived as best I could, but, after awhile, after starting to date and being unable to watch a movie we wanted in my loathsome apartment, I snagged a cheap DVD player, and the LD became the CD players. Had to be done.

JORTS

Jean shorts. Now a faux pas, and, you know, fuck it, I'm fine with faux pas. I love my cargos, they were designed for theme park attendance anyways. I know we queers have always been jokingly referred to as getting the hair gene, the interior decorator gene, the style gene, the fashion gene.

I got the hair gene. I got the culture gene.

I didn't get the fashion gene.

Maybe it's because I live in RedNeckVille, but I just can't fall into fashion trends.

But even then, I knew that jorts were a nightmare.

I noticed that I would wear them in my home.

In Florida.

In the air-conditioning.

But when I went anywhere?

They were removed.

It's hot down here, if you've not figured it out.

And jorts? That's just not going to work. I noticed I would get sweat only where the shorts were located.

FITNESS DVDs:

I realized this early on. I was massively aware of my weight and had a hard time attending to the gym. So I thought this would help my self-esteem and, at the very least.

I started in my apartment.

And the way the floor shook, I'm surprised my neighbors below didn't have a meltdown.

But, also, my heart rate was nil. If there was a chance to cheat, I would take it. I could not establish any kind of routine. I tried different ones, and variations.

What made me think I would follow through? It was then that a friend asked me to attend a class with her at the gym with both joined.

And things changed. Having that teacher, alive, changing the pace, giving me the interactions, I liked that. She could interact with me, but also, like, leave me the fuck alone. And since I didn't want to look at anyone in the class, I could remove myself from the situation, much better, making time go faster.

Seriously, what was I thinking?