In rummaging around for my passport and birth certificate this evening (both of which I found), I stumbled onto several notes from Jon. It should shock no one that I held on to these scraps. I am a pack rat to the nth degree, both literally and emotionally. I hold on to everything: every lesson, every card, every phone number, every insight, every
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Before I moved up to Portland, I actually put together an Ex-Box. And I know it doesn't sound all that healthy to pack everything you don't want to look at (but don't want to feel the guilt from throwing it away forever and ever) in a box and hide it deep down in your closet and never ever think about it again... but y'know what? It IS healthy! I felt great afterwards! It's still back in my closet back home and out of my mind. I kinda recommend it! Hooray for emotional well-being!
And hey, it looks like I've even inadvertently kinda started a tiny Portland division Ex-Box! Keepin' up the tradition, baby!
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And Brian: I totally, totally know what you mean about not everyone wanting to be personally challenged in their relationships. What the hell?
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I don't at all question the need to keep these things, even if keeping them means keeping them locked away. We clearly all own ex-boxes. As Abby pointed out to me over the phone the other night, I will some day need to slim down the collection, because I literally have a box for each year of college, and I have more crap at home from high school. I intrinsically know that "stuff" isn't important, but the sentimental attachment is, right?
It further amazes me what I don't remember about certain days/relationships/trips/events until I go back and find some article I kept and I suddenly remember a meal/conversation/sight and feel it all over again.
Rock on, packrats.
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besides, we all know graceful is something i shouldn't dare aspire to. some dreams are too far to reach for.
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