I have a distinct obsession with boxes.  Though mostly small and mostly wood, I really dog those gear boxes used for professional recording and sound equipment.

My dad played drums when I was a kid, and his kit was a massive collection of boxes that, once the kit was assembled, could fit matryoshka-like into a space no larger than the bass drum box and the "gear box," which contained cymbals, peddles, the snare, and associated stands.

It was the perfect little system.  Each piece had a precise purpose, evolved over time to take up exactly the space required and no more.  No wasted motion, no extra accessories.

I have a rather staggering collection of small boxes, and I have to physcially restrain myself from buying more.  Currently I'm finding some impressive tongue-in-groove cigar boxes from the 1940s that require my purchase.

It's a sick thing, this obsession.  I suspect they'll find a drug to cure it soon.
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Taken out of context I must seem so strange - Ani DiFranco

The right bottle is always a kleinbottle. Or perhaps a kleinbottle is always (a|the) right bottle.

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"The german quoting guy is a little bit out there." (fleece)

I love jars and tins, jars are the flip lid gasket sealed ones.  I can't get enough of them.  Everything in my kitchen is divided into jars and tins or will be when I finish filling all the ones I own.  I buy them and put them up until there are things to put in them, if that shelf in the garage ever falls it will be a huge glass cleanup.

For as long as I can remember I have lusted for cool pens, neat-o graph paper, steno pads, hole punches, all that stuff.

Which is bizarre because my handwriting is absolutely horrid, I type everything I can and I block print the rest.

Yet, looking around my cubicle, I see a steno pad (used), two spiral notebooks (unused), a cup full of pens and markers including a red pencil and several highlighters (a personal favorite). In my desk drawers are more pens and pencils and piles of post-it-notes.

At home I have a pile of steno pads and notebooks I bogarted from a previous employer before they went out of business.

Oh, and I also have the pouch full of neatly organized colored pencils, along with old-fashioned marble notebooks and pads of graph paper, carefully stashed with my D&D gear.

Sometimes I think these are talismans - that I hope that by having lots of nice writing materials I will somehow become more organized and effective in the rest of my life.

Either that or I've just always been obsessed with words, books and all that's connected with them.

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Faith, and the possibility of weaponized kissing?

Or "Glass Canning Jars" as they are ridiculously called by wikipedia.

The most durable drinking vessels in our house (excepting 256's metal cup), also good for transporting alchohol, morning protein shakes and bugs/plants/dirt/sand/toenail clippings/beads/buttons/bonsai kittens/souls/(etc).

Whenever I get my hands on the little ones I wish that it was some kind of D&D smokebomb.

i had the same type of headboard and played almost the exact same game, but i imagined that the dowels were the controls for a sort of fantastic telescope.
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_{I don't think anyone's ever really died from smoking. --ni}

I used to have a bunch of colored glass bottles on my window sill. They came down when the kids showed up. Your diary has reminded me how much I liked them. It's time for colored bottles again.

"Are Linux chicks worth it?" fencepost