So a nice person who's doing an article about nerd collections just spent an hour having me wander around the Pony room and show her specific Ponies and I am very full of serotonin now.

Happiness is stored in the Pony.

The best part was right at the end when she said "In first grade, I had a purple one...I don't remember her name..." and I asked a couple quick questions and pulled Blossom out of the case to show her.

She damn near cried.

Finding your childhood Pony from a very vague description is a narrow skill, but it's a very deep one when it comes into play.