Digging around.
I keep meaning to type up a nice introductory post for all my new bros from heta/CAPTALIA. This is not that post. I don't know about the next one either.
Keeping yourself busy. My mother and I seem to have differing concepts of what busy means. She thinks I'm only truly busy if I'm doing something for her. But what if I'm trying to get something done myself? Aren't I allowed to sort out my own business?
Today, my business is sorting through old possessions to clear out space. It's strange how many things have their own stories.
I find a collage of photos made for me when I graduated high school. Wow, I've looked awful for quite a while now. Those can go, definitely.
A bag of costume jewelry left behind by my grandmother. On closer inspection, all necklaces but one are broken. Perhaps Grandma was a hoarder just like my dad? I keep the intact necklace (some lovely fake pearls) and a huge, sparkly pink brooch. How could I throw out something so awesomely bizarre?
I find a shiny souvenir pin from Chetwyn, Canada (who?) that was a gift from a friend of my uncle's; a guy who either had a poor concept of boundaries or no issue flirting with the younger set. (I was 20 at the time, so it could've been creepier.) I'll keep it anyway; it's a nice pin, and it'll remind me which part of Canada I definitely don't want to visit.
A writing journal from English class in my third year of high school; the year I look back on as "grade ten and a half". Goodness, I was an angsty little shit back then. I hated showing my original stories to my teacher back then because she was terrible at critique. Anything else was a prompt, and I managed to turn almost ever prompt into something depressing. I did find this one interesting bit, though:
MY GOOD DAY
It was the best day. No, really. The first thing I did was press the button on the intercom.
"Jounouchi! Fetch me a hard lemonade! And take off your shirt!"
I then opened up my hu-u-uge closet to decide what to wear. Today I felt like something simple. I emerged from the closet with a simple white ball gown. After I changed into my cool gown, I bade Jounouchi enter with the hard lemonade and the shirtlessness.
"Good morning, Katie 80. What do you feel like doing today?"
"I feel like throwing a cool house party."
So a cool house party was thrown, and everyone put their weight on it.
THE END
It was odd, finding that little bit of silliness amidst all the whining about "Mum yelled at me!" or "I almost got hit by a car!" Tossing that journal out for sure.
An ancient coloring book called "Rainbow Days". Why's this still around? Oh, there's a trippy fluorescent cow. The thing looks like a scene dog. That is most likely the moment in my childhood when I realized that you don't have to necessarily make everything the color it's supposed to be, which is worth noting since I've always been such a perfectionist. Definitely trash.
So many toy horses. I wish I knew a little girl who loves horses, because they're in far too good a condition to throw out. Perhaps a school would like them?
Looking through all this stuff is kinda cheering me up; especially getting rid of it. Old possessions just...drag you down, you know? So it's nice to just toss them in a bag and never see them again. Some things are tough, though. Will I ever have anyone to play Magic with again? I built this deck with all the cards I love most...
Ooh, Pokemon stickers. These are definitely going on my computer.
Sorry 'bout the boring rambling! Maybe I'll write a serious (or at least interesting) journal later.
Keeping yourself busy. My mother and I seem to have differing concepts of what busy means. She thinks I'm only truly busy if I'm doing something for her. But what if I'm trying to get something done myself? Aren't I allowed to sort out my own business?
Today, my business is sorting through old possessions to clear out space. It's strange how many things have their own stories.
I find a collage of photos made for me when I graduated high school. Wow, I've looked awful for quite a while now. Those can go, definitely.
A bag of costume jewelry left behind by my grandmother. On closer inspection, all necklaces but one are broken. Perhaps Grandma was a hoarder just like my dad? I keep the intact necklace (some lovely fake pearls) and a huge, sparkly pink brooch. How could I throw out something so awesomely bizarre?
I find a shiny souvenir pin from Chetwyn, Canada (who?) that was a gift from a friend of my uncle's; a guy who either had a poor concept of boundaries or no issue flirting with the younger set. (I was 20 at the time, so it could've been creepier.) I'll keep it anyway; it's a nice pin, and it'll remind me which part of Canada I definitely don't want to visit.
A writing journal from English class in my third year of high school; the year I look back on as "grade ten and a half". Goodness, I was an angsty little shit back then. I hated showing my original stories to my teacher back then because she was terrible at critique. Anything else was a prompt, and I managed to turn almost ever prompt into something depressing. I did find this one interesting bit, though:
MY GOOD DAY
It was the best day. No, really. The first thing I did was press the button on the intercom.
"Jounouchi! Fetch me a hard lemonade! And take off your shirt!"
I then opened up my hu-u-uge closet to decide what to wear. Today I felt like something simple. I emerged from the closet with a simple white ball gown. After I changed into my cool gown, I bade Jounouchi enter with the hard lemonade and the shirtlessness.
"Good morning, Katie 80. What do you feel like doing today?"
"I feel like throwing a cool house party."
So a cool house party was thrown, and everyone put their weight on it.
THE END
It was odd, finding that little bit of silliness amidst all the whining about "Mum yelled at me!" or "I almost got hit by a car!" Tossing that journal out for sure.
An ancient coloring book called "Rainbow Days". Why's this still around? Oh, there's a trippy fluorescent cow. The thing looks like a scene dog. That is most likely the moment in my childhood when I realized that you don't have to necessarily make everything the color it's supposed to be, which is worth noting since I've always been such a perfectionist. Definitely trash.
So many toy horses. I wish I knew a little girl who loves horses, because they're in far too good a condition to throw out. Perhaps a school would like them?
Looking through all this stuff is kinda cheering me up; especially getting rid of it. Old possessions just...drag you down, you know? So it's nice to just toss them in a bag and never see them again. Some things are tough, though. Will I ever have anyone to play Magic with again? I built this deck with all the cards I love most...
Ooh, Pokemon stickers. These are definitely going on my computer.
Sorry 'bout the boring rambling! Maybe I'll write a serious (or at least interesting) journal later.