December 21st, 2007 browsing by day


Packing, My Hidden Talent

Friday, December 21st, 2007

I thought I’d write up a post saying that I’m feeling much better today. Well, maybe not much, but at least better. I’ve an excitingly super-busy morning of last-minute errands that had to be run, and after I finish my quick lunch, I’ll commence on the packing. Or at least the organizing for the packing. The difficulty, of course, is Xmas presents, which are going to take up an ass-load of space. And, then I’ll get dirty looks from everyone who finds out I’m only going for 2 weeks, and yet I have two bags and a huge-ass carry-on. And I can’t explain with ‘Christmas Presents’ because that would be ‘importing goods’ and they’d have to get a survey of all I’m bringing to see how much import tax I’m bringing. So, if my bags are searched (thankfully much less likely in the UK than in the US), I’m ready to explain how I’m bringing all this unopened things over ‘just to show’ and ‘for my own personal use’ and am totally taking them back to the US. And I’m ready to be searched roughly 6 gazillion times because my carry on will have more electronics in it than a Best Buy (laptop, 2 cameras, Wii, nano, DS, phone, backup phone, and all the hundreds of chargers, cords, transformers, and plug adapters that come with the above).

The only thing I like about packing is that it feeds my slightly OCD inner desire for organization. (This is usually overshadowed by my laziness, but does display itself in certain forms.) In real life, there are always loads of things that don’t really fit into good ‘categories’, so you have to stuff them somewhere. But when you’re packing, everything has a place. Clothes, toiletries, electronics, and, for this trip, presents. Then there will be a couple books, and probably a journal, but that’s such a small part, it’s hardly worth worry. Plus, books are nice and rectangular, so packing them is easy.

The difficult part of packing is organization, especially when travelling with valuables and breakables (ex: Christmas presents). Luckily I don’t really have breakables this year, but between presents and Wiimotes, I do have valuables. This means you have to wrap them up, cover them up, and generally hide them, which often messes up the symmetry of packing.

Well, I’d better go start selecting clothes to pack, which will be harder than usual, as I haven’t had to fetch out my cold-weather clothes yet this year, so they’re still…. who knows where : (.

Ah, well. At least I’m so used to packing that I’m pretty efficient at it.

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Perfect Exhaustion

Friday, December 21st, 2007

So I’m here typing once again, instead of being asleep like I should be. Why this time? I don’t want to go to Britain. It’s been a long while since I was eager to go, but right now I’m just dreading it. There are many reasons, but one is resonating, and has been resonating, so strongly right now.

I’m tired.

I’m tired of life. Which is sad, considering I’m young and 21, and ‘the world is my oyster’ – whatever that means. I don’t even like oysters. I’m tired of getting up in the morning. I’m tired of being alone, tired of lying in planes for hours, tired of navigating layovers and flight changes, tired of packing and unpacking, tired of trying to be a long-distance big sister and daughter to people whose lives function perfectly well without me, tired of fading friends, tired of explaining my life story to anyone who talks to me for more than 5 minutes, tired of being a ‘child of divorce’, tired of being strong, tired of psychoanalysing my family for my family, tired of surviving the experience of my family, tired of going to bed every night, tired of having to feed my grumbling stomach multiple times a day, tired of trying to figure myself out, tired of adjusting to change, tired of looking for stability, tired of the prospect of ‘future’, tired of my own past, tired of the present, tired of trying to please everyone, tired of being nagged, tired of being warned, tired of finding lack of happiness in too many places.

It’s only two weeks, but it will be exhausting. I will be yelled at, lectured, and generally emotionally abused by my father. I will try to catch up with the ongoing lives of my younger siblings. I will generally be isolated from the world, and probably be yelled at for reading too much. I will be yelled at for a lot of things. I will be tricked and lectured, and miss my cat and my privacy. I will do my best to comfort the young ones, as I have done for so much of my short life, from the yelling and the arguments, and the general hurt my family routinely inflicts upon itself.

But who am I to complain of anything. My father is rich, and I have travelled a lot. Certainly, my life is perfect.

I am so tired of being me.

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