Underground cave ins.
Last night I was more than a little hyper... it was late and I felt like reading a book, but I didn't have any books to read. My dad keeps his old sci-fi novels in our basement. Or, at least, what can be considered our basement. Adjoined to the garage is this 4-3 ft high (it gets both lower and narrower toward the end) unfinished space beneath the kitchen and dining room. I used to want to hide down there as a kid. I also used to be be really afraid that the tiny door would close and lock, so I would put a piece of wood or a stick there so it could never completely close on me. Once a cat got stuck down there. I'm not sure how it got in.
Anyway, it's been years and years since I've been down there. Because, obviously, it's not very head-friendly when you've grown up and gotten taller. I scrambled in and found MOUNTAINS of boxes. My parents had been busy... storing everything we've ever owned, I guess. Perhaps mountains isn't the best word for it. You can only stack 3 cardboard boxes because the "ceiling" (really floor beams) is too low. But the narrow space spans almost the whole width of our house, so all the stacked boxes split the space into three long corridors.
There were boxes of Christmas, Halloween, and Valentines decorations. Not unexpected. Boxes of old paperwork and records. Also pretty routine. There were many boxes of things my parents had bought in bulk at Costco... paper plates, plastic containers, toilet paper, etc. Enough to last us decades, I think. And then there were the boxes of clothes and old toys and other things I can not begin to image. I couldn't look in all the boxes. Some of them were covered in a fine layer of grime because they hadn't been touched in so long. I didn't even manage to look into a fraction of the boxes.
It was eerie indeed. Especially since I have decided to be as delusional as I want to be. The naked, humming light bulbs and the long tunnels of boxes made it feel like I was in another place entirely. Somewhere between lives where everything you've ever lost has gone.
(By the way, the break-from-reality feelings I've been letting myself indulge in don't happen too often. The last time was when I closed my bedroom door and then thought suddenly that, if I opened it, everything behind the door could have changed. Anything could be behind that door. But when I opened it again, everything seemed to same. Oh well. I still keep a decent grain of reality in my life. I've just decided to let my mind roam a little. Life is more interesting that way.)
I was rather delighted. Practically everything from my life was probably down there, right down to the old girl's bike and broken skates. It was like I had discovered all the fossils of my past. And it's funny to think that every day we live right on top of all these... random pieces of junk... almost buried in our foundation. Mine is a family of packrats. Our house is filled with junk, and it seems we have built our house on our junk, too.
Unfortunately, I didn't find either of the two boxes of books.
And today was a very good self-esteem day. One of those days were you look in the mirror and instead of the person you see everyday and have gotten used to, it's someone you actually like. So it was a nice coincidence that today was also the day that I decided to go through all my clothes, trying them on and seeing what I still liked and how they fitted. I do this periodically, usually twice a year, often when my room has become such a mess that nearly all of my clothes are on the floor.
I came to the following conclusions:
1. I have way more clothes than I thought I did.
2. I actually do like a lot of my clothes.
3. I tend to wear the same things over and over until I get sick of them, then I complain about how I have nothing to wear... forgetting about all the other clothes I haven't seen in a while.
4. I need better dress shirts.
5. I need more pants.
I actually didn't try on all my pants. I was lazy and decided that I didn't need to since I only have like 10 pairs anyway. I also didn't try on my band shirts because... they're mostly just t-shirts, so what's the point?
Now I have a big mound of clothes that I need to fold. Gah. I need a bigger closet, so I can just put everything on hangers and never fold clothes again! That is my dream.
Also I have a dozen tops that I plan on "modifying" later. Basically, as soon as I get a good, sharp pair of scissors and a ton of safety pins... I'm just going to hack away. It'll be fun. Some of it might actually be wearable. It'd be better if I knew how to sew.
Anyway, it's been years and years since I've been down there. Because, obviously, it's not very head-friendly when you've grown up and gotten taller. I scrambled in and found MOUNTAINS of boxes. My parents had been busy... storing everything we've ever owned, I guess. Perhaps mountains isn't the best word for it. You can only stack 3 cardboard boxes because the "ceiling" (really floor beams) is too low. But the narrow space spans almost the whole width of our house, so all the stacked boxes split the space into three long corridors.
There were boxes of Christmas, Halloween, and Valentines decorations. Not unexpected. Boxes of old paperwork and records. Also pretty routine. There were many boxes of things my parents had bought in bulk at Costco... paper plates, plastic containers, toilet paper, etc. Enough to last us decades, I think. And then there were the boxes of clothes and old toys and other things I can not begin to image. I couldn't look in all the boxes. Some of them were covered in a fine layer of grime because they hadn't been touched in so long. I didn't even manage to look into a fraction of the boxes.
It was eerie indeed. Especially since I have decided to be as delusional as I want to be. The naked, humming light bulbs and the long tunnels of boxes made it feel like I was in another place entirely. Somewhere between lives where everything you've ever lost has gone.
(By the way, the break-from-reality feelings I've been letting myself indulge in don't happen too often. The last time was when I closed my bedroom door and then thought suddenly that, if I opened it, everything behind the door could have changed. Anything could be behind that door. But when I opened it again, everything seemed to same. Oh well. I still keep a decent grain of reality in my life. I've just decided to let my mind roam a little. Life is more interesting that way.)
I was rather delighted. Practically everything from my life was probably down there, right down to the old girl's bike and broken skates. It was like I had discovered all the fossils of my past. And it's funny to think that every day we live right on top of all these... random pieces of junk... almost buried in our foundation. Mine is a family of packrats. Our house is filled with junk, and it seems we have built our house on our junk, too.
Unfortunately, I didn't find either of the two boxes of books.
And today was a very good self-esteem day. One of those days were you look in the mirror and instead of the person you see everyday and have gotten used to, it's someone you actually like. So it was a nice coincidence that today was also the day that I decided to go through all my clothes, trying them on and seeing what I still liked and how they fitted. I do this periodically, usually twice a year, often when my room has become such a mess that nearly all of my clothes are on the floor.
I came to the following conclusions:
1. I have way more clothes than I thought I did.
2. I actually do like a lot of my clothes.
3. I tend to wear the same things over and over until I get sick of them, then I complain about how I have nothing to wear... forgetting about all the other clothes I haven't seen in a while.
4. I need better dress shirts.
5. I need more pants.
I actually didn't try on all my pants. I was lazy and decided that I didn't need to since I only have like 10 pairs anyway. I also didn't try on my band shirts because... they're mostly just t-shirts, so what's the point?
Now I have a big mound of clothes that I need to fold. Gah. I need a bigger closet, so I can just put everything on hangers and never fold clothes again! That is my dream.
Also I have a dozen tops that I plan on "modifying" later. Basically, as soon as I get a good, sharp pair of scissors and a ton of safety pins... I'm just going to hack away. It'll be fun. Some of it might actually be wearable. It'd be better if I knew how to sew.