My Own [Mini] Personal Dumpster #graded

When approaching this post I felt brain dead. What the heeeeckkkk was I going to observe and then explain? Honestly, Mama Schaefer likes to keep a clean house so everything is nicely in its spot on the main level. From this you could conclude that my family is organized, neat, and put together. If you want to keep that perception then I would advise you to steer clear of my room at all costs.

This is probably the cleanest its ever been. But that
one wall is entirely corkboard. Its awesome. I love it. 

My room is what I like to call messy-chic. AKA everything is strewn about, some on purpose and some not, but I really just cannot find what I need if its not where I threw it. Seriously, if that one blue sheet of paper that I got at camp this summer isn't sitting under the notebook on top of my pink striped box I wouldn't ever be able to find it. So I went up there to find some stuff to write about and then I saw this giant green bowl that I keep on my vanity. Wah-la. My own, personal dumpster.

I'm not sure why this bowl is where it is, but somehow it got there last year and ever since its been a collection spot for anything and everything. Seriously, its the first place I go to when I've lost something remotely small. Time to dig to the bottom and explain some of the utter crap tokens of goodness that lie deep down. 

• "In the Pink" Sleeping Mask: oh, thats where it went. Don't ask me why its located on the opposite side of my bed (not that it matters anyway, because sleeping masks don't work and are rediculous wastes of money). I imagine this is still here from a photo shoot I did in July- my friend put on all of the accessories she could find in my room, this included. Hah, she looked like one of my grandma's cabinets- overflowing with stuff that all has significance, but when combined just looks tacky. 
• A small key wrapped in plastic: alright, this key was paired with some piggy bank thing that my dad towed home from work. That bank had a lock on it. If you haven't picked up on the blatently obvious clues here, I am not organized enough to keep a miniscule key without losing it. So, to save myself from the event of locking some Ben Franks in that bank (JK, I'm not Cardona, I'm really just straight up broke) Ijust didn't even begin to store money in it. The bank is gone. The key remains with the hope of turning up on a piece of jewelry one day. 
• Autographed Quietdrive ("Deliverance") and Diana Birch ("Bible Belt") CD cases: These two CDs are my most precious albums ever. They are only in this dumpster because once upon a time it was nearly empty, so they sat proudly on display. The Quietdrive one is what triggered my obsession for the local Minnesota band. One day, 3 summers ago, my family decided to go to the State Fair. It was delicious, as usual, and as the night came around we saw that this band called Quietdrive was playing a free concert at one of the band shells. I had heard of them so we went. and they were AMAZING! I bought the album and went through the small line so that I could meet them; I was starstruck and partially in love. Moral of the story: go listen to them. 
• A folded, labeled, hand-drawn diagram titled "Hippie Sailboat": This is one of the most recent additions to the dumpster and I love it! It resides here temporarily; its original home was intended to be my bulletin board but I ran out of push-pins. One of my best friends started sailing this year and is obsessed (to the max), so she draws sailboats on nearly everything. On the way home from the band trip to Orlando she drew me my own personal green sailboat with a tie-die sail. Its perfectly labeled too, so if you want tot know where the tiller or the jib sheet is, just ask me! In addition to the boat there are also scribbles of color that accompany random song lyrics that are scrawled in the white space. I know, it seems dumb, but it represents our friendship AND that trip, and one day when I look back upon it I will be flooded with vivid memories of both of these things.
• A pink plastic stegosaurus, a stretched out octopus sillyband, a peace sign band-aid: No description needed. I just take a liking to the wierd little things you pick up during life. I couldn't tell you where they came from, but they're cute, have character, and I love them. 

Are you yawning to death yet? Good, you should be. These things are just plain Jane, everyday objects that, when taken at face value, don't mean much to anyone. It isn't the material or idea that makes them meaningful, it's their history.