They have yet to make a box that big

A while back I packed up a lot of my childhood memories and put them in a box at the back of the closet. Well, not exactly my memories, (those wouldn't fit in boxes), but many of the things that made them. In an attempt to reclaim some space in my ever shrinking room in my parents' house, I put a bunch of toys, keepsakes and VHS tapes that I or my parents couldn't part with into the depths of our downstairs closet. Several VHS classics, however, I left unpacked, knowing I would want to view them at some point in the not too distant future. These include some off-beat Disney classics, like The Great Mouse Detective and Robin Hood, as well as some standard classics, a la Beauty and the Beast and Aladdin.

Cut to earlier this week:

I was shocked to discover several of my friends had never seen The Pagemaster, an AMAZING movie that came out when we were kids. Knowing I had it on VHS, I went to my stash today to pull it out and place it with the things I'm taking back to school after break.

It wasn't there! Unknowingly, I packed it with the other things that are now trapped in the chasms of the closet. My only hope is that when we put the Christmas decorations away this weekend I might be able to locate the box their hidden in. The Forces that Be, grant me luck, because people really need to see this movie. I mean, it's quality.

"There's something lost that can't be found..."

I began sorting through all my junk to find the good stuff that’s coming with me to school. With the miraculous wonders that are space bags, I managed to fit all my bedding into a neat little cube.
During the excavation of my room, I was unable to find a set of string lights that I absolutely love. This saddens me as 1) those string light are the perfect level of light for watching movies, and 2) I CAN’T FIND THEM! I hate it when I can’t find something in a small space, like a drawer or my room. It should be there, wherever you left it, yet that spot always manages to hide behind some random materialization of antimatter. There are some typical items that get sucked into this vortex; keys and socks especially, as well as phone numbers, tools, and other items. Apparently we can add string lights to that list.

Don't forget your toothbrush

Packing always seems epic. I enjoy it, though. It sort of fits in with my love of containers. More than that, I enjoy the puzzle aspect of it, which is strange since I don't really enjoy many (if any) other kinds of puzzles. I always pack far ahead of time then re-pack about two more times before being satisfied with the way things are organized, which things I'm actually taking with me, sometimes the bag itself will be changed in the process.

With each year of college I've become a more efficient packer. I've brought fewer things with me each time, especially this past semester spent abroad. I came with one large duffel back, a gym-sized over-night bag and my back pack. Pretty respectable, if I do say so myself.

Re-packing everything at the end of each school year has also taken on a bit of an art form. There's a sort of ritualistic way I dismantle the space I live in. First, all excess paper goods are disposed of. Next, most clothes are put away. This usually means things that are either not warm enough or too warm to wear in a given season. The last thing to be packed, aside from toiletries needed on the day of departure, are wall decorations. I can't stand being in a room with bare walls. As I can attest to, it's very difficult to sleep in such rooms. It reminds me just how institutional those spaces are. The strangeness and unfamiliarity of a place are magnified when there are no distractions in it. With pictures and other embellishments I'm able to imbue the space with a meaning all my own, making it a home instead of an enclosed domicile. They also catch sound, making it harder to hear the creeks of building, the rattling of a window or even your own echoing breaths.

“Taking the walls down”, as like to call it, is the closest I can get to removing myself from a place without actually leaving it. “Taking the walls down” means I'm returning it to whoever it truly belongs to. Until it's all down, it's still mine in some capacity. In general, that usually makes it easier to leave a place because it becomes a completely different space as the object in the room were, essentially, what the room was. In essence, I get packed while the room, well that's back to its natural state of roomness, behaving in that way that only empty rooms can behave or understand.

(This might all make more sense after reading yesterday's post.)