Thoughts after coming home for Thanksgiving...
It may still say "Suzanne's Room" on the Winnie the Pooh plaque on the door, but it sure doesn't feel like my room anymore.
I'm not even sure if it was mine in high school, as the more I look around, the more I realize that the vast majority of this paraphernalia is actually from my junior high years. Oh, grade 7 and 8, how I apparently adored you. I still find it somewhat unsettling that I am unable to picture most of the inside layout of that school.
All the photos on the wall are from grade 7 and 8. I only still talk to 3 out of the 10 girls in the smiling shots.
The photos in the frames feature some high school memories, but yet in some ways they seem even more distant to me.
My walls are host to posters, frames and banners from Star Wars: Episode I, Cape Cod, the Toronto Blue Jays as World Series champions in '93 and scores of Disney doodads.
The walls themselves are a horrid, pale pink. The colour was chosen for me at the age of six and has yet to be changed.
The furniture is children's furniture -- neither the drawers of the dresser or the nighttable can hold nearly enough. The dresser does feature a nice, long mirror, however. I used to always stick photos in the gaps in the sides but rarely would they stay properly wedged in for long; currently only three sisterly shots remain.
One wall is covered with fake, wooden shelves; the shelves themselves are covered in stuffed animals and random trinkets. A corner on the floor is home to a stuffed animal as well -- a life-sized Mickey Mouse, as in he was my size when I received him at the age of 9. He's usually wearing my Cat in the Hat hat which I bought for a Halloween costume a few years later.
The back of my bedroom door is a work of art, or so I thought when I created it 8 or 9 years ago. It is completely covered from top to bottom with a wide variety of magazine clippings. If only I still cared about boy bands and teen movies, I might still look fondly on my door. For now it's just a memory of who used to be me -- that's all my room now seems to be.
I'm not even sure if it was mine in high school, as the more I look around, the more I realize that the vast majority of this paraphernalia is actually from my junior high years. Oh, grade 7 and 8, how I apparently adored you. I still find it somewhat unsettling that I am unable to picture most of the inside layout of that school.
All the photos on the wall are from grade 7 and 8. I only still talk to 3 out of the 10 girls in the smiling shots.
The photos in the frames feature some high school memories, but yet in some ways they seem even more distant to me.
My walls are host to posters, frames and banners from Star Wars: Episode I, Cape Cod, the Toronto Blue Jays as World Series champions in '93 and scores of Disney doodads.
The walls themselves are a horrid, pale pink. The colour was chosen for me at the age of six and has yet to be changed.
The furniture is children's furniture -- neither the drawers of the dresser or the nighttable can hold nearly enough. The dresser does feature a nice, long mirror, however. I used to always stick photos in the gaps in the sides but rarely would they stay properly wedged in for long; currently only three sisterly shots remain.
One wall is covered with fake, wooden shelves; the shelves themselves are covered in stuffed animals and random trinkets. A corner on the floor is home to a stuffed animal as well -- a life-sized Mickey Mouse, as in he was my size when I received him at the age of 9. He's usually wearing my Cat in the Hat hat which I bought for a Halloween costume a few years later.
The back of my bedroom door is a work of art, or so I thought when I created it 8 or 9 years ago. It is completely covered from top to bottom with a wide variety of magazine clippings. If only I still cared about boy bands and teen movies, I might still look fondly on my door. For now it's just a memory of who used to be me -- that's all my room now seems to be.