taken, not borrowed

i have a thing about keeping my stuff personal.  read:  mine and mine alone.

i have been working for almost 10 years now, and of course, there are some worldly, material things i have which i have either saved up for or was really happy to purchase on sale.  because of their value to me, i consider them hands off to others. 

on my "do not touch without my permission" list:  my pencil collection, laptop, ipod, books, CDs, jewelry, perfume, cosmetics, clothes.  yes.  C-L-O-T-H-E-S.

the list is short.  super short.  so i wonder, i really wonder, why some people are too dense or too stupid to realize that when i mean "do not touch without my permission," i mean it with all my heart, soul and screaming mouth.

i come from a big family.  we all live in one house.  my parents, a sister and 5 brothers.  i bet you all can figure out which items match which family members.  and hell breaks loose every time i catch one or the other violating my simple rule. 

and tonight, when i got home from trinoma, i saw traces of yet another crime against my rule and my property.  this, considering, that i had gone to lengths to HIDE the thing, precisely because i did not want anyone else to even TRY to borrow it from me.

remind me to get a padlock tomorrow.  i swear this is the last straw.