June 12, 2014

loose

thursdays tend to be meh.  there's this lull in the work week where you've done most stuff and there's always friday to finish things off.  it's not a ballet night or a bachelor night or a pottery night or usually a date night (thanks rugby).  i don't even know what i do most thursdays.  tonight is actually gonna be a rare date night - a late night date night post rugby at sup dogs (cannot express how excited i am that practically their entire menu can be made vegetarian, thank you hippie town, usa) but we still both have work tomorrow.  my life is all about evening activities and weekends, and thursdays just don't do much for me.

speaking of pottery, last night i made a bad vase thing and then talked to the teacher about why it was bad and how i could make it not bad and she taught me how to find the center after centering and before opening, finding that perfect little divet right in the middle with the tip of my thumb, and all of a sudden it got way easier to carefully carefully pull things up without wonkiness or wibbling.  and now i have two bowls, big enough for macaroni.  one for me and one for you.  mac and cheese for two, we'll split the box.

after the boy convinced me that yes actually i could get rid of all my old bank statements (gulp) on account of the internet and the 21st century and whatnot, i went through boxes and bags and pulled all of statements and paid utility bills and even those little slips you get when you deposit a check out and put them in a pile to bring to work and shred.  it's scary but it feels good, phoenixy, to shed all that stuff.  i kept student loan things and tax things and yes even that warning a police officer gave me because my taillight was out, but i threw away way more than i kept.  way more.  and that's one thing, and that's great, but i still haven't been able to throw away programs of plays i've been to.  cards people have sent me.  do you need to know every movie i've been to ever?  unless the ink has since rubbed off, i can produce tickets for pretty much every time i've been to the theater since i figured out i could preserve my life by tucking things into boxes.  it's a self-preservation thing, like he says in love actually.  most people would tell me to just chuck that stuff, but each slip of paper, each handwritten "love, XXX," brings me back somewhere.  reminds me of someone.  like many people, i tend to hold onto things in the past, soak in my own nostalgia, but maybe less like a lot of these people, i have tangible reminders of almost everything.  it was only recently i stopped holding on to receipts.  and i'm not sure if that's a bad thing or not.  i don't know if these - these physical representations of memories - are things i'm okay with shedding or if i want to continue collecting loose scrapbook materials to hold onto and remember closely.