So many useless things

On July 31st, 2007, I packed up everything I owned and lived out of suitcases for a month while I stayed with Angel before starting grad school. Once I moved to DC, I stayed with a coworker for weeks, then moved to a sublet for another week, and finally, into my very own place (with three roommates) and unpacked all my boxes, bought a brand new bed (that I have a love affair with) and set up shop. Come May of 2008, I put my things back in storage and lived out of three suitcases for the next 8 months. First with my boyfriend in the bay, then in Buenos Aires to study abroad. I got back to DC in January and stayed with a friend for nearly a month until I found a place. Soon after, I found a house, and unpacked all my things. I didn't unpack all my boxes because I knew I'd be moving sometime in the fall. I took a backpack to Colombia for a month and now, due to no fault of my own, I had to immediately move out again and put my things in storage once again. Now I'm going to CA with the same three suitcases to live out of those until I return to DC come the fall and take my things out of storage again.

The point of this historical recap? I was reflecting in the shower about how little time I've had with my personal belongings. How little I needed anything but the clothes off my back (and a few pairs of shoes) but yet, how I refuse to get rid of any of my things. Even though most of it has layed in boxes for a large part of the past year, I still find my untouched game of Taboo critical to my happiness. My empty photo albums I intend to fill with pictures one day are absolutely necessary. My precious stuffed animals that never made it out of their boxes.... the list goes on and on and on. I really don't need much. I spent the past month with only a backpack wishing that I had LESS stuff and only hoping I had the same clothes but washed. I don't quite understand the attachment I have to my things that have gone untouched and boxed up for so long. I think I hope that when I return to DC with my bf, I'll be able to finally unpack, play a game of Taboo, and settle in. But until then, as much as i complain, I'm perfectly fine with my three suitcases. And even then, I'm certain that I have too many things with me that I'll never use.

I remember my first thoughts!

I was rereading my last blog and I saw that I wondered what my first thought would be when I got to the states and I remember it very clearly.

I thought- what pompous, arrogant Americans (I had a brief run in with a rude girl). And the longer I've been back, the more I think, my goodness, why are people so unnecessarily loud?? And why is this country so expensive??

I'm not saying I don't like Americans. But I'd like to consider myself an introspective American and I wonder why are we the way we are sometimes...

An observation...

I'm waiting for flight number three of three from Buenos Aires to LA. Can't help but notice that the further north I go, the more americanized the airports are. The food, the language, the currency, the travelers. I wonder what my first thoughts will be landing in LAX. At least I'm easing my transition ouf of Latin America by landing in a city run by my people...