Two weeks until I’m gone

So, today I got a storage unit practically down the street from my house.  It was a bit of a trial to find it, despite (or perhaps because of) its proximity, as the website’s map had shown the facility way on the other side of Mills, and then when I called my roommate, I think I flustered him into giving me some bad data, so I wound up going back home and looking the address up on GoogleMaps, revealing the place to be something like ten blocks away from my house.

Well, at least I found the damn place.  My confusion of its location was made up for by my ability to ferret out a place where I can get a happy, heaping load of boxes for free, enabling me to feel somewhat clever again.

So, I’ve begun packing, sort of.  I have a box filled with sweaters and scarves, and now I’m working on a box of random ephemera I can’t seem to throw away.  Despite growing up in a mobile, military family that’s lived in three different countries throughout my upbringing, I’ve become quite a pack rat.  I’m looking around my room right now, and it’s a bit intimidating to know I need to do something with all of these loose bits of paper, postcards, photobooth pictures, tiny bottles of oil, vintage recipe cards, books, headbands, unused stationery, Japanese stickers, broken cameras and so on.

As I’m packing, I’ve come to the conclusion that I am painfully sentimental about ticket stubs and thank you cards, possibly to the point of ridiculousness.  I’m concerned I may be about three missing marbles away from cat-collecting.  Okay, maybe I’m not that bad.  Or maybe I am.

A list of odd ephemera I can’t seem to donate, throw away or otherwise  get rid of:

  • My membership card to the long-defunct Stone Soup Collective.  I was number 31.
  • Ticket stub to see Bon Iver at the Plaza Theatre for Monday, 8 June 2009.
  • Ticket stub for Let the Right One In, showing at the Enzian, 5 November 2008.
  • A vintage cookbook compiled by the Catholic Ladies Guild of Bangkok Chapel Center, featuring recipes in English and in Thai.
  • A half-empty sheet of stickers featuring cartoon cats in a variety of scenarios.
  • Prints of Soviet propaganda posters.
  • A teeny, tiny plastic figure of Tetsuwan Atom.
  • A postcard from my friend while she was living in Berlin and I was living in Ban Phe from 2002.  Fact: I am more likely to keep a postcard from you than a photograph of you.  Actually, I’ll keep the photograph, too.
  • A random, unfinished postcard written in Hindi found somewhere, probably in a book.  The image on the back is of Qutab Minar in New Dehli.  I have a lot of postcards from strangers.
  • A “rescued” banner “liberated” from Sukhumvit Road for the Bangkok Film Festival.
  • Miscellaneous items with a cat or an owl theme.
  • A little tray, broken by Clark, that I carefully glued back together featuring a cartoon fox who, although looking very sneaky, professes, “I’m really very shy.”
  • A broken Kodak Instamatic camera.

And there’s more.

Packing is a lot more fun if I view it for what it really is: a personal archaeological excavation of the past.  I found these mix CDs in a box full of PC games and junk.  I don’t remember who burned them for me… I’m guessing it might have been an ex-boyfriend, but I don’t remember listening to them.

I feel kind of mean for that.  Sorry, whomever.

All the packing I have to do is bound to be a slow process, especially if I’d rather hang out with friends whom I won’t be seeing for a long time.  But, it’s now happening, so forgive me if I don’t update this blog much in the meantime.

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