2004-10-14 || 1:09 p.m.

|| exhumations ||

1. dear hashem, i found your sleeveless illinois t-shirt wedged between my wall and bed. it was exhumed some time ago, still smelling like your armpit, and i decided to wash it and send it to you along with the other things you forgot during our whirlwind rickety rockety romance. i packed it in my suitcase for the wedding a few weeks ago expecting a great hand-off but didn't get to see you post-reception. i am now planning on mailing it to you in a sizeable package containing, again, all those other things of yours that have sprung up. what i am trying to get at is i am wearing your sleeveless illinois t-shirt right now. at work. it is one of the most uncharacteristically-me articles of clothing i have ever worn. right up there with kelly's terry cloth jumper and maybe ugg boots. but. i have to tell you. i feel rather "tough," maybe where "tough" = unsure about self but wearing it anyway because it's hot out and i've run out of warm weather clothes. i imagine it's a bit like sophia from the golden girls showing up to her canasta group wearing an ex-boyfriend's sleeveless t-shirt. would that go over? would there be a gasp and then an approving round of applause? because i didn't get a round of applause. i got a work lady stopping me in the ladies room to pull at a frayed end in my armpit. w.w.s.d.?

2. while on a post-class caffeine high last night, i pulled out the rubbermaid container my mum shoved into the trunk of my car the last time i went down to see her. another exhuming: things left behind at the old house, mostly photos of years 1991 - 1995. i went through over 400 pictures last night, and i threw away 7/8 of them. it was an uncomfortable hour. me at 14, me at prom, me at julie's, me wearing those glasses that i thought looked really good, me with that odd pendant i bought at the swap meet, me with this bizarre early-90's self-styled haircut, me wearing an old lady housecoat. no. good. even the terrible packrat hoarder in me said to throw it all the hell out. and i thought, 'but won't my kids want to see what i looked like when i was in high school?' hell. no.
i don't even feel bad about it.
i remembered myself in a much fonder kinder light, and it made me worry i am so off in my self-perception. either a) the overall cutoffs of '92 will be replaced by ex-boyfriend sleevelees toughshirt and in ten years i will look at photos taken now and be absolutely repulsed and realize there really is no way out of uglytown, although tricking oneself has served well; or b) i did in fact blossom somewhere around 1996.
i really have no idea.

previous || next || random

guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land

Site Meter