What Happens When You Get Rid of Everything
Today was our final going away party. Friends came by, hung out, chatted, ate, and took away some of our stuff. It was wonderful and a little sad.
Craigslist has been a good friend recently, as we've gotten rid of both the bed and the heavy marble table. The bed and futon went to a kid who was at that age where nothing from any adult is cool. The bed was "too small", and he was unimpressed by the Godzilla sheets. I was an exceptionally difficult kid at times, so no offense was taken. I hope he finds happiness in these things later. For a while, I was afraid that the marble table wasn't going to go. I posted it last night, and the phone didn't ring. Not at all! This is unheard of. With craigslist, you can tell that the post is live because the phone starts ringing. However, at 5:45am this morning, someone texted me about it. I told him that he could get the table at 9am. Then, at 8:30am, someone called about it, so I got online and took the posting down. Clearly, the kind of people who want a crazy, diy marble table are busy on Friday nights.
Getting rid of all this stuff has been fun. We passed off curtains, costumes, boxes, food, carts, cabinets, my office chair, the bamboo from our lamps, and a ton of other stuff. I was happy to get rid of all of it. And then, our friend Holly came for the tools (which she is holding for us until we ask for them back). And that was hard. Really hard. I have no drill. I suddenly feel like I must get away from here. How can I live here with no drill? I can probably survive without a jig saw but no socket set?!? I don't know if I can get by without a socket set. The closest I have felt to this level of discomfort was when I gave away all of the rest of my fabric from Africa to the awesome woman who cleans our teeth at the dentist. She makes quilts, and I know she'll make something fantastic with all that fabric. Also, getting rid of my Star Trek novels was super hard. I have them in electronic format, and I still didn't want to see them go. Some things that I would be traumatized about, like my kumihimo loom, are going to people that I'm so happy to give them to that it ceases to be a problem. But my tools... I don't think I could even let them go if it wasn't to Holly.
Of course, there are things that I couldn't get rid of. We have a tub of stuff from the wedding that I think we will want in 50 years. Perhaps I should have kept some of my old notebooks, but I just can't bring myself to care. I remember most of those times pretty well, and I have zero desire to relive them. Hmm.... I was talking to one of Joel's friends tonight about old notebooks, and she was saying how some people find it helpful to look through old diaries. I don't really have that. I find it painful. Partly, it is just embarrassing, as I'm usually being angsty about some boy. But also, I am so glad to be me now. I don't want to go back to read about my incredibly painful gallstones or my miserable breakups. I want to be here. Now. Perhaps another thing is that I am only really starting to figure myself out now. There is a lot of "me" exploration that has brought me to this point, but reading the backstory that led me to here is not so thrilling.
So, that's my insight. Now, it's time to set up our sleeping bags again, clean up the remaining food from the party and head to bed. Tomorrow is another day of getting rid of stuff and trying to organize what is left.
Craigslist has been a good friend recently, as we've gotten rid of both the bed and the heavy marble table. The bed and futon went to a kid who was at that age where nothing from any adult is cool. The bed was "too small", and he was unimpressed by the Godzilla sheets. I was an exceptionally difficult kid at times, so no offense was taken. I hope he finds happiness in these things later. For a while, I was afraid that the marble table wasn't going to go. I posted it last night, and the phone didn't ring. Not at all! This is unheard of. With craigslist, you can tell that the post is live because the phone starts ringing. However, at 5:45am this morning, someone texted me about it. I told him that he could get the table at 9am. Then, at 8:30am, someone called about it, so I got online and took the posting down. Clearly, the kind of people who want a crazy, diy marble table are busy on Friday nights.
Getting rid of all this stuff has been fun. We passed off curtains, costumes, boxes, food, carts, cabinets, my office chair, the bamboo from our lamps, and a ton of other stuff. I was happy to get rid of all of it. And then, our friend Holly came for the tools (which she is holding for us until we ask for them back). And that was hard. Really hard. I have no drill. I suddenly feel like I must get away from here. How can I live here with no drill? I can probably survive without a jig saw but no socket set?!? I don't know if I can get by without a socket set. The closest I have felt to this level of discomfort was when I gave away all of the rest of my fabric from Africa to the awesome woman who cleans our teeth at the dentist. She makes quilts, and I know she'll make something fantastic with all that fabric. Also, getting rid of my Star Trek novels was super hard. I have them in electronic format, and I still didn't want to see them go. Some things that I would be traumatized about, like my kumihimo loom, are going to people that I'm so happy to give them to that it ceases to be a problem. But my tools... I don't think I could even let them go if it wasn't to Holly.
Of course, there are things that I couldn't get rid of. We have a tub of stuff from the wedding that I think we will want in 50 years. Perhaps I should have kept some of my old notebooks, but I just can't bring myself to care. I remember most of those times pretty well, and I have zero desire to relive them. Hmm.... I was talking to one of Joel's friends tonight about old notebooks, and she was saying how some people find it helpful to look through old diaries. I don't really have that. I find it painful. Partly, it is just embarrassing, as I'm usually being angsty about some boy. But also, I am so glad to be me now. I don't want to go back to read about my incredibly painful gallstones or my miserable breakups. I want to be here. Now. Perhaps another thing is that I am only really starting to figure myself out now. There is a lot of "me" exploration that has brought me to this point, but reading the backstory that led me to here is not so thrilling.
So, that's my insight. Now, it's time to set up our sleeping bags again, clean up the remaining food from the party and head to bed. Tomorrow is another day of getting rid of stuff and trying to organize what is left.