Today, I went through a few boxes. Five, to be exact - they were on the large side, too. These had been packed (and put in storage) a few weeks before we moved to Germany (so they've been sitting around waiting for roughly 6+ years or so) and I finally opened them to discover...
Far more trash than treasure. A fuck-ton of trash, really. Two large black lawn garbage bags FULL o' trash. There were some things that I physically looked at, touched, and then thought "why did I keep this unholy horror?" I found my mother's old soufflé pan (I'd like to bake her ass - needless to say: TRASH!!). I found my original Cabbage Patch doll dress (with no doll - WTF??). Came across some old school papers (not from high school - but from my first year of college) - which were absolutely wretched. It amazes me how much crap I had to churn out for a 100-level English course. Why I kept this unnecessary stuff is the big question. Why did I keep this?? I couldn't recall a specific memory attached... there were no personal notes nor commentary added... it was just a big blur. I wonder if that's why we forget things when we start getting older?? It dims the highs in life just like it brightens the lows. Maybe we aren't really meant to remember everything. At least I hope not. I'd probably come up lacking in the "true happiness" department. Yet...
I did come across some gems. My first expensive purse from Coach (why did I feel the need to put that in storage for years??) and some charms and jewelry from when I was a child. A couple of amusing books, comic strips, and travel magnets. Love letters (you know, snail mail!!). Lists of books that I'd like to have. And this big folder of clippings just full of "dream house" ideas (let me tell you, if I used all those ideas, my house would be pretty fucking tack-0-licious!!) - which I'm culling through because some of those ideas were GOOD ideas. Just not all together, you know.
A part of me feels off-kilter and disconnected today. Maybe that's why I decided to go through some things - maybe think a little bit about decisions and choices and paths and all that. After all, hindsight is 20/20. Too bad I couldn't tell the future.
If I could, I'd play the lottery every year.
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