So I’m home in Alaska for two weeks — apparently having just missed the unusual month-long heat wave Anchorage was having — to see friends and family and to finally clean out my room. It’s the milestone that comes for all of us eventually: the day our family tells us that they’d like to use that room for something other than a memorial to your elementary school art projects and high school celebrity crushes.
To say this is a daunting task is an understatement. I come from a long line of pack-rats. I have boxes and boxes of papers from all eras of my education; every little tchotke of a gift I got at cast parties or for a graduation is battling for space; the wall of my bedroom is papered with the poster from every show I was involved with before college. Literally all of them. Like, almost ten years’ worth of posters — The Miracle Worker, A Christmas Carol (several times), To Kill A Mockingbird, Anne of Green Gables — they’re all there.
I’m trying to tackle things in the Unf*ck Your Habitat style of taking things in small chunks and doing 20/10s (twenty minutes of work, ten minutes of break). Today has mostly, thus far, been moving boxes of books from out of my room into my work area in the living room, though now I’m getting into the boxes of Everything Else. Each box brings a new hit of amazement: amazement at how much I used to read physical books, amazement that I used to own so many CDs (I have like a dozen CDs that someone made me that I’m sure I never listened to; judging by the handwriting I’m guessing it was my best friend Ellie), amazement that I still have all of my old magician gear.
If there’s interest, I’ll post pictures of some of the best/worst/weirdest stuff I find in this endeavor. Currently this is the box I’m most excited about:
Seriously, I can’t explain to you how important Bruce Coville’s “My Teacher …” series was to me at one point.