Saturday, December 4, 2010

Packing Up for a Pack Rat

Packing up all your belongings is hard when you own so many knick-knacks and treasures. Wrapping up fish-shaped bottles full of paper stars comes to a grinding halt when tangled chain necklaces beckon. I will now sit here for the next 5 minutes, going in and out and around.

Honestly, where to begin? The jewelry? The books (4 boxes full!)? The jars and jars and jars of who KNOWS what? There's a trombone and a baseball bat beside my bed that need tending to, magazine pictures that need to be un-taped from the walls, scanners and mirrored cupboards that need to be disconnected and taken down. There are cotton dresses, beaded dresses, strapless dresses, summer dresses, glittery dresses, dreamy dresses and daring dresses that need to be unhung and folded into bags. Old diaries, hand-written histories, that need to be stashed at the bottom of boxes, in case prying eyes get a little too curious. SHOES (my god, the shoes). Dressers, two of them, and a beautiful vanity, full of polishes and shadows, that need to somehow be emptied. Under the bed (that needs to be dismantled) are boxes of things that are only valuable to me: Old letters, magazine clippings, photos and drawings, scraps of fabric and, for some reason, a leather pouch full of glitter.

Ribbons and cameras and pencil cases and paint and mobiles and notebooks and candles and music books and... sigh. There's a painting on the back of my door, of a girl and a squid, and I know that soon I will have to paint over it. I agonized over the details of it when I did it, months ago now. The girl is me, with the same wavy hair, the same piercings, the same eyes, the same half-smile. The door itself has a crystal handle that fascinated me when we first moved in.

It's going to be sad to leave this room that I've lived in for so long, and made my own...



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