I hoard patterns, shamelessly. My basement has one whole corner devoted to nothing but holding my beautiful patterns from floor to ceiling. I have them dating from the mid-1930's to the present. I admit, with no guilt whatsoever, that I will continue to hoard them, even against my boyfriends better judgement. I have a theory (for my hoarding obsession anyway) that I will stop when I find, "that pattern", the elusive "one". A pattern to end all patterns, one that will speak to me in a way no other pattern has, it will rush to my rescue and cause me to cease my uncontrollable urges to stockpile these little beauties.
In an alternate reality maybe. Who am I kidding? I've been bitten by the vintage pattern bug. It is like malaria, lasting for days on end in a feverish state, needing that fix from your next score, only to end in a lethargic state from the intensive stalking...I mean searching for your next victim. Maybe not that extreme but you get the idea, I can't help myself. Even if one day they did come up with a cure for obsessions, I don't think I would take it. To take it would be to take my passion and that's something I'm not giving up anytime soon (over my dead body actually).
Just like my pattern obsession I have been bitten by the computer gaming bug. A game that I discovered a few months back called Second Life has my attention also, I'm hooked. Lately you can find me running around disguised as a ring-tailed lemur in female form, I can even fly and change my hair color to boot. It's a game that even though I want to drop it like a hot potato sometimes, I cannot. I have a small plot of land I have been decorating lately. There's a house, a few trees and it's surrounded by water. In the next few weeks, I'm even gonna put a sewing machine there too. What a kick, this machine will probably work better than my real life machines at this point.
By the way, I take both of them in tomorrow to fix their boo boo's. Let's hope this turns out prettier than what I'm expecting.
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