(no subject)
last night while andrew was at a show in madison, my parents picked me up & took me to their house (it's not home anymore, is it?) to sort through most of the crap left in my room. my mom is chomping at the bit to repaint and rearrange, and STRONGLY ENCOURAGED me to finally get down to business this weekend. despite her eagerness, i had to kick her out while i did the purging because i couldn't stand her incessant refrain of "you're going to throw THAT away?! that's your childhood!"
i threw away a lot of my childhood.
but really, why did i keep lit papers from sophomore year of high school? and notebooks from college classes i didn't even like? and so many goddamn birthday cards; i found what must have been every birthday card i've ever gotten since sixth grade.
i also found, sandwiched between the pages of a photography book, my dad's high school salutatorian address. do you realize our parents had to write THEIR sophomore lit papers on typewriters? their salutatorian addresses, too. handwritten annotations. his handwriting is unchanged; all caps, with tiny spaces between pen strokes.
honestly, it wasn't a very good speech. but it made me love my dad even more.
when i was done, i had filled two giant trash bags. there was another pile for goodwill--the stuffed animals i could bear to part with, old binders and stupid bric-a-brac, lots of clothes (including the $50 beaded vest i begged for in fourth grade and then only wore once--i kept it so long out of guilt).
my mom cut three huge white peonies with blood-red centers from her garden for me & i took them home to grace our table.
i threw away a lot of my childhood.
but really, why did i keep lit papers from sophomore year of high school? and notebooks from college classes i didn't even like? and so many goddamn birthday cards; i found what must have been every birthday card i've ever gotten since sixth grade.
i also found, sandwiched between the pages of a photography book, my dad's high school salutatorian address. do you realize our parents had to write THEIR sophomore lit papers on typewriters? their salutatorian addresses, too. handwritten annotations. his handwriting is unchanged; all caps, with tiny spaces between pen strokes.
honestly, it wasn't a very good speech. but it made me love my dad even more.
when i was done, i had filled two giant trash bags. there was another pile for goodwill--the stuffed animals i could bear to part with, old binders and stupid bric-a-brac, lots of clothes (including the $50 beaded vest i begged for in fourth grade and then only wore once--i kept it so long out of guilt).
my mom cut three huge white peonies with blood-red centers from her garden for me & i took them home to grace our table.