Packing. Bleh.
I've been in my apartment for three years. Good god... it seems like it was a lifetime ago that I was up on Meadowheath in the house with Shawn... I hated packing then. I hate packing now. I didn't like packing up my first apartment to move INTO Shawn's. The only move that didn't completely suck was from my mom's into my first apartment. I was so ready to go that I was packed weeks before we found an apartment.
I think the problem is, despite the appearance I give to people who don't know me that well, that I'm completely disorganized and nothing in my house has a place or an area of its own. No matter how hard I try, the only real boundaries for anything I own is:
1) An arts-n-crafts box
2) A scrapbook/memories box (which is really 1.5 paper case box. Yes, marvel at how much shit I cling too)
3) A basket with 15 disposable cameras and an even larger number of rolls of film that all need developing.
Also, I don't know how to pack these things effectively. In short, I'm supposed to be out of my apartment by next Friday and into a house that isn't mine yet, and I'm supposed to have this bitch CLEAN by March 11th because I told Army Of Freshmen they could have my empty apartment for their SXSW domain.
On the upside: Me, Lisa and SheRay have SXSW wristbands. Yes, I know I haven't been updating, but there was a very possible chance that none of us would get bands.
Also, on the upside... the Texas primary actually means something this year! It's amazing! I got a fever and the only cure is more OBAMA!
This is not my car. I found that on FrostFireBuzz, which is becoming one of my favorite websites.
Anyway, so I was trying to repack my scrapbook/memory box to weed out the useless shit and maybe make it more organized.
That was dumb. I just wasted two hours. But I found my CD of pictures from the Toadies/Baboon show that was at the last night Liberty Lunch was open in July 1999... so in continuing my fit of being completely useless and ineffectual with packing, I posted the photos to my MySpace. One of Sally over to the Posse album, and a few over to the Music is Happiness album. My new default photo is me as my 16-year-old self, in one of my favorite shirts that I ever owned, sitting on the stage, being teary eyed about this being the last time I would be there. Liberty Lunch was more my home from the ages of 11 to 16 than anything else was, and I fear ever will be.
More stuff about moving...
The house we will more than likely be moving into isn't really anything I want at all. It is a means to an end. But I will make it my own, come hell or high water. I want to have a massive house warming party with everyone I know that I can stand to be in a room with because I NEED this to not suck so bad.
Anyway... I need to get back to stuffing shit into boxes. I will probably blog again in a fit of time wasting. I took all my posters/artwork/photos down last night and looking at the blank walls makes me want to throw everything back on the walls and never move out. It's been a helluva three years and despite all of the lows that came with it, I never want to leave the highs behind. Maybe it's the eternal optimist in me, but there have been way more highs than lows in the past three years. Avigail Jerusalem, Living the dream-2006, 2007, 2008(?), Killing Lena & Lucy but getting Ray, The friends I've made (SheRay, Teresa & Audrey, Jeanie, Joann, Brooke, Wendy, and a few more that I'm not going to add right now), The friends I've lost (may they get their shit together one day and stop pissing me off, or may I find a way to be a different person and forgive them for pissing me off)...
All of it will be tied to this apartment. This bane of my existence. But nonetheless, it was home to me and my loved ones and it makes me sad to leave.
I think the problem is, despite the appearance I give to people who don't know me that well, that I'm completely disorganized and nothing in my house has a place or an area of its own. No matter how hard I try, the only real boundaries for anything I own is:
1) An arts-n-crafts box
2) A scrapbook/memories box (which is really 1.5 paper case box. Yes, marvel at how much shit I cling too)
3) A basket with 15 disposable cameras and an even larger number of rolls of film that all need developing.
Also, I don't know how to pack these things effectively. In short, I'm supposed to be out of my apartment by next Friday and into a house that isn't mine yet, and I'm supposed to have this bitch CLEAN by March 11th because I told Army Of Freshmen they could have my empty apartment for their SXSW domain.
On the upside: Me, Lisa and SheRay have SXSW wristbands. Yes, I know I haven't been updating, but there was a very possible chance that none of us would get bands.
Also, on the upside... the Texas primary actually means something this year! It's amazing! I got a fever and the only cure is more OBAMA!
This is not my car. I found that on FrostFireBuzz, which is becoming one of my favorite websites.
Anyway, so I was trying to repack my scrapbook/memory box to weed out the useless shit and maybe make it more organized.
That was dumb. I just wasted two hours. But I found my CD of pictures from the Toadies/Baboon show that was at the last night Liberty Lunch was open in July 1999... so in continuing my fit of being completely useless and ineffectual with packing, I posted the photos to my MySpace. One of Sally over to the Posse album, and a few over to the Music is Happiness album. My new default photo is me as my 16-year-old self, in one of my favorite shirts that I ever owned, sitting on the stage, being teary eyed about this being the last time I would be there. Liberty Lunch was more my home from the ages of 11 to 16 than anything else was, and I fear ever will be.
More stuff about moving...
The house we will more than likely be moving into isn't really anything I want at all. It is a means to an end. But I will make it my own, come hell or high water. I want to have a massive house warming party with everyone I know that I can stand to be in a room with because I NEED this to not suck so bad.
Anyway... I need to get back to stuffing shit into boxes. I will probably blog again in a fit of time wasting. I took all my posters/artwork/photos down last night and looking at the blank walls makes me want to throw everything back on the walls and never move out. It's been a helluva three years and despite all of the lows that came with it, I never want to leave the highs behind. Maybe it's the eternal optimist in me, but there have been way more highs than lows in the past three years. Avigail Jerusalem, Living the dream-2006, 2007, 2008(?), Killing Lena & Lucy but getting Ray, The friends I've made (SheRay, Teresa & Audrey, Jeanie, Joann, Brooke, Wendy, and a few more that I'm not going to add right now), The friends I've lost (may they get their shit together one day and stop pissing me off, or may I find a way to be a different person and forgive them for pissing me off)...
All of it will be tied to this apartment. This bane of my existence. But nonetheless, it was home to me and my loved ones and it makes me sad to leave.