Packing up and shipping out

Ah, the fun of moving. Packing all my shit into boxes and shipping it across the country. I find that the more often I do this, the lighter I’m able to stay because this battles my strong propensity for packratism.

This week, I’ve been going through all my shelves and marveling at all the objects I’ve managed to acquire in my short time here. Pink leg warmers, two dozen Christmas sweaters, a cowboy hat, dozens of concert tickets, and a stuffed penguin named Terryl, to name a few.

Many of these keepsakes I’m bringing, but there are parts of my past that I’ve finally decided to let go. Namely, the Mexican ceramic Tweety bird that I’ve been schlepping from house to house for the past ten years. I mean seriously, I’m 30-years-old, I think it’s time to let Tweety go.

(Okay, the actual truth is that his head fell off. Otherwise he’d be sitting in a box right now on his way back to San Francisco)