thoughts on stuff

I'm getting tired of being a nerd. I just bought antimicrobial underwear and got a little thrill when it showed up. It looks like plain old (new) underwear. Thank God it doesn't shine and too bad they don't have patterns.

Another tangent in this pre-trip saga has been Organizing My Life. 'Til now I've had seven boxes at my folks' and I'm very proud of that one-digit number. I just added three more and now it's starting to get a little hairy. Roomie has moved out and it's VERY CLEAR to me exactly how much stuff I have--the liquor store is going to know my name after the sixteen times I've asked them for boxes (also, the liquor store sells coffee. I think they're trying to corner the entire addictive beverage market). The little boxes are so cute, and so stackable--I'm just hoping they stack up as cutely in my car. Which is a hoss, so I'm not really worried. (Whoever wrote that wikipedia article broke into my driveway and photographed Li'l Skip, I just know it.)

The original plan was to go Jesus and sell all my possessions, but then I realized, if I sell all my possessions...I'll have to buy new ones. Even antimicrobial underwear will not last me forever. And seeing as I'm not forty and apparently not a nester, I have very few whatchamacallits. So we've gone with the St. Lucia plan, which is, if it's something I wouldn't pray to St. Lucia for if I lost it (there's a handy rhyme, go Catholicism), it gets tossed. So far, that's been a box full of shoes that were already lost under my bed for the past 10 months and a miniature wooden sleigh that Wolfram Research sent me full of chocolates at X-mas.

Packing always brings out this debate about how to live I have with myself, um, every time I pack. Do I NEED this? How about this? And this? Or--hold up a sec--do I need ANYTHING? And when I get to the point where I've boxed everything up I think, I could just toss it now. I can't see it--I wouldn't even notice--it looks like trash from here--bye, bye. But then common sense, or something, kicks in and says, come on, now, kid (that's what I call myself), a necklace or two never hurt anyone. When you unpack that box, you won't think, Christ, I am worldly. You'll think, hey, I missed that sweater! So much! And aren't I lucky to have parents who send me Easter-themed mugs! And what a nice collection of love letters from the insane-o twins--I mean my sisters--I have. And no, it's not possible to have too many copies of Joy in the Morning.

So the guilt at my attachment to things subsides and I continue to haul my boxes from place to place and wonder what it would be like to actually not own a single thing, not even the best little French press that's been keeping me in coffee for three years now, not even a jar of pennies I've picked up lucky all over the place, not even a jacket, nevermind ten. I think it would be liberating, like everyone says. Heck, getting rid of unuseable shoes felt good. But it'd also be jarring. If I didn't have a copy of Joy in the Morning with me, wherever I was wouldn't feel like home. And there might be something to be said for that--never feeling at home on Earth--but I don't want to say it. I like my little existence. It's a good collection.

cómo?

I wish I could recreate the bug eyes I've gotten. Never have I shocked so many people in so short a time. This must be how David Blaine feels every day.

another necessary purchase

This trip is already broadening my horizons. I have never bought myself a waterproof jacket before (I completely rock my "little" brother's ex-ski coat). Also, I never bought myself a camera before (thanks, Santa!). But the time has come. Camera #3 (if you count my AWESOME original Polaroid and the totally sweet party Polaroid with sticky pictures, which I do) bit the dust after being dropped and eating God's own portion of batteries. I just can't take it. Spending money on batteries is worse than spending money on soap. Because when I use soap, I don't feel bad that I'm using a lot of it, or that I'll have to buy more soon. I HAVE to shower. I don't HAVE to take pictures. And every time I zoom for like, ten seconds, and focus, and refocus, and plug in my camera to download pictures, I just think--there goes another bar of battery life! Oh, and don't talk to me about rechargeables. I'll smack you every time I have to wait more than thirty seconds for my camera to wake up and actually TAKE the picture I wanted it to take thirty seconds ago.

Oh, God. I just realized I'm one of THOSE bloggers. Don't you ever want to say--like, to the blogosphere entire--STOP. BITCHING. You're really not that funny.

Anyway, I'm buying a camera. Here it is:

things i will miss

1. My fellow commuters. They dress like this. And I used to laugh at them, too, but today I got a cheery "Morning!" from a guy in neon green. Of course, this was as he and his thigh muscles were passing me. As if I were on a unicycle, and crippled. But no one says "good morning" on the bicycle commute. They say "On your left" as in "passing you on your left" and "%#^$ you" as in "you @#$$ing idiot, why are you driving in Boston?" and sometimes, if you're stuck at the Epic Traffic Light and you say, "Nice weather, huh?" they grunt. So basically, I got the spandex blessing.

2. Continuous television on Saturday. It's kind of a thing now, me renting Friends and forcing everyone who's in the house to watch it. Because it's due back Sunday, yo.

3. The Squeah. Know what, I live where I'd call "downtown" in all the other places I've lived. It's awesome. Everything closes after I go to bed. I know space is nice and trees are pretty, but man, do I feel cool when I walk to the subway and pass by three coffee shops. I guess if I'm going to other urban hubs in the Indian subcontinent, I'll get just as much life, but I'm starting to feel all settled here. I mean, I've tried all the French fries within a ten-minute T ride. This is HOME.

4. Cooking for myself. Oh, wait, no, I won't.

and the countdown begins

One month from today I'll be freaking out and hopefully just waking up right now. You know, I've been calling this traveling (or is it travelling?) but I could also be thinking of it as an 85-day vacation. And technically, it starts on May 1. Unemployment, vaca--tomato, tomahto.

And just in case it looks like I'm a huge slacker (don't read my timestamps, please), I have been working like a woofer for the past three weeks because it hasn't hit me yet that I won't be pulling in cash for three months, but I know when it does I'll be sitting on a volcano somewhere and don't you know, it probably won't have the courtesy to explode.

India Visa Notification - Passport Sent

So says my inbox.

PHEW.

google "weather india"

That's just hilarious. The high in India today is 98. Tomorrow, 105. For all of INDIA. All one billion people (fact) spread across many bjillion square feet (approx.) of land...all having one hot day.

Well, it's 43 degrees in the US today.

things i don't need

At least when I get to India, I won't have to deal with emails that are WRITTEN LIKE THIS!!!!!!

Another thing I won't be doing is running. I'm pretty sure this is going to be a big deal, because I've been running, like, a lot lately. Before I did a half marathon I ran 3 or 4 times a week, and I felt pretty ok about it. I pretty much had to drag myself out of bed to do it, though. These days running is pretty much part of every day. Maybe it's because I've been H.I.I.T.-ing (High Intensity Isomething Training), which takes 15 minutes (and makes me want to puke and/or have my lungs removed). So I just go out, run around, shower, and get on with things. Except for when I run for like six miles, pass out, watch a movie, eat everything in the kitchen, and then get on with things. So I'm one of those guys. I can't not do it. I'm an addict, whatever--at least it's not crystal meth, or cookie dough (wait, just kidding). And also, if I didn't go running, I'm pretty sure everyone would hate me, because I get depressed and turn into a Complete Witch.

So, what's going to happen when I land in the land of no runners? Well, I plan to do a lot of walking. Like epic amounts of walking. Like so much walking that my legs can't move anymore and I can't even contemplate using them to go faster. I also plan to be SO MOVED by everything I see that I don't need the thrill of blurry scenery to give me endorphins. And I just signed up to run a ten mile race two weeks before I leave. If anything can sap me of strength for a couple weeks, that should do it.

I have no idea what's going to happen when they cut me off from cookie dough.