here's to oldness and newness
it’s apparent that i move a lot. the apartment i share now with the boy is the longest, aside from living with my parents, i’ve held residence anywhere. and during each and every uprooting, my mom reminded me of two crates i left at home, both of which carried seemingly precious cargo. in the past, i narrowly escaped mention of these boxes until last weekend when we rendezvoused in bloomington for the family get-together at wesleyan, my sister’s new stomping grounds. this time, the crates came along for the ride and were promptly removed from my parents’ car to our rental.
so finally this past weekend, i sat myself down, opened these memory pits, and went to work on eradicating not only clutter, but some pretty gruesome teenage memories.
this may sound vaguely familiar, but this was a torture of a different sort.
the first box proved to be pretty tame. a couple trophies from academic competitions, a few prom centerpieces i managed to smuggle, some “poms” from float building for our annual high school parade (better known as “hobo day”). there were even some keepsakes from an old boyfriend, but honestly there wasn’t a single thing worth saving from a landfill fate (though i did recycle where applicable). done and done. one garbage bag down.
then the second box. it started out ok with more academic awards, report cards and other random oddities i collected. (i managed to save all my notes from sex ed class in 8th grade… um, wtf?) but after that first layer, i uncovered the time-sucking collection of letters passed in the hallway, doodles & drawings and… the diary. and no matter how hard i tried, i couldn’t just set aside for the shredder. i actually chose to read much of this crap.
i told naz that if i ever got a hold of these writings again, i would transcibe them to digital form, at least for humor’s sake in a couple blog entries. but i had no idea what an angst-ridden past i was covering up. who knew that teenagers were tormented souls? i rediscovered that i was uncertain of my image, longing for boys who would never like me in return and needlessly jealous of girls whom i don’t even talk to anymore. and really, who wants to relive that?
i called my mom in the midst of wading through all these poorly written letters to myself, to my diary, to my girlfriends i shared study hall with, and scolded her. i was completely content as a 30-year old, self-assured, moving along in life, and now, i had to relive some of those notorious “worse” years.
my mom’s response: pure laughter. and perhaps even a tinge of sadness that she couldn’t witness the mayhem of paper strewn about.
ok, i guess it is a bit humorous that i wrote a few letters to jordan knight of new kids on the block and paula abdul, imploring them both to help me launch my music career. and seeing some of the poetry i wrote for one of my classes in grade school was indeed comical. and it did make me smile that my teachers fawned over me and my many “talents.”
but listening to J talk endlessly about C and wishing S would just ask me out already and how cute of a butt he had and then all the drama with B but still really having a thing for N. that’s simply too much to take.
i’m glad as adults, for the most part, drama like that is kept at arm’s length. or at least, we have the choice to keep it that way. the youngsters, well, that’s all they have.
so after nearly burning up the shredder with all that sappy goodness from times gone by — hell no i wasn’t going to let any dumpster divers or bums find my shit in the recycle bin — naz and i continued on with our pseudo-redesign of our apartment.
i’ve been complaining for some time now that our place, though nice, is just a bit drab. we can’t paint the walls, so naturally we have to institute a color palette in alternate ways. and by adding some accents of candles, new pillows and a few other pieces, we’re finally getting somewhere. yes, i watch entirely too much HGTV, but i’m ok with that.
our biggest accomplishment: spicing up the sconces in our living room. who knew vellum and construction paper could be so handy.
i’m sure photos will be forthcoming once we put the final touches on everything. and it’s good to know that i’ve returned to my adult life from my brief encounter with that girl from 15 years ago. i’ll take ordering custom candles over teenage cattiness any day.