Get Over It

It’s funny how you can get caught between two diametrically opposed points of view. Both are equally valid but to the exclusion of the other. I’m caught between travelling and putting down roots, between hoping that Aviva and I will get back together and getting over it. I’m sitting in Victrola listening to Ira Glass wax on about the screwball comedy notion of “just” friends in Get Over It.

In the episode he and his exgirlfriend go to Saks Fifth Avenue. They have been broken up for six months but still talking on the phone a few times a week. No sex but relying on eachother for emotional needs. In the small moments of her emotional distance, his trying to make the connection, whether he comes into the dressing room to see her try on clothes or not, her getting a black miniskirt for a date with a new guy. It all makes him wonder: what am I doing here?

It’s so interesting the difference between making a decision and following through. It’s so easy to talk about the green grass over there but making the journey “over there”

How much information do you want about the new guy/girl?

You want them to be happy BUT it’s sad that they’re happy without you.

I am happy. I enjoy my days. Yesterday I had a great time working with Teruki on the computer and eating dinner over at Devon’s. I’m learning a lot on Flash. Ira talks about willing yourself to get over someone or something. I want it to be NOW. I want it to be OVER. I want to have MOVED ON.

ugh…

packing my library

I took down my bookcases today, packed up my library, and brought it over to my parents for safekeeping. Back at my apartment I’m writing in the blog. It’s strange being half moved out. I wanted to write in a quote from “Unpacking My Library” by Walter Binyamin but I turned around and, hey, all my books are gone!

Part of moving my stuff to my parents was going through all the stuff I have there that’s still in my room I lived in till college. It was exciting to go through all the junk, throwing out a lot and finding some useful tidbits that I’ll take with me for travelling. I found my old travel wallet: the kind that goes on your belt and hangs around in your crotch. Super comfy!

I was thinking about how I will not be taking any keys on this trip. This will be an odd feeling because I’m very absentminded and I lose things and every time I do pretty much anything (get up to get a get a beer, etc) I check my pockets to see if I have my 1)wallet, 2)cellphone and 3)keys. If I didn’t do this I’d lose them. But after years of this, now it’s hardwired in. I can imagine myself on the first three weeks of South Africa patting my pockets and panicking for a good 5 or 6 seconds while I try to figure out where I’ve put my keys. But it’s odd leaving keys behind. Keys provide you with a way of getting past barriers meant to keep certain people out and certain people in. Having keys means having built up credability, trust and/or responsability. Not having keys means being free. Sometimes we’re bound by the things that make us free.

So while my bookshelves and books are at my parent’s house, here at my apartment my room is covered with with all things nonbook (see figure below).


messyroom

Hopefully I’ll take care of this tomorrow but until I do my room will have a lonely, temporary feel to it. Tonight I will pack things into boxes while listening to This American Life.