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missroseroseEverything is finally packed - CDs, DVDs, books, sewing machine/fabric/patterns (damn 99 cent pattern sales), candles, pictures, hygiene items, Playstation/games, and innumerable other objects. I still hate living in a materialistic society, if only because it's such a pain in the arse to pack everything (and I don't have very many big or bulky items at this point in my life; compared to most people in my social class, my load is pretty light). But on the other end of things, some of these things are a nice connection to my life over the past few years. I'm not a big one for knickknacks, but I do have a couple of pictures that I'm glad to have now (and will therefore probably be even more glad to have later).
It strikes me that, as of tomorrow, I will be consciously out of a relationship for the first time since...sheesh, since before I graduated high school. Admittedly, my relationship status has been indeterminate at times in between (specifically when Ian and I were doing our see-saw thing), but I've generally gone straight from person to person - Elise, Ian, Greg, Ian, Ryan, Ian, Ryan (and that's just actual relationships, not counting fuckbuddies on the side and whatnot). On the one hand, it's meant that I've (almost) never wanted for good sex, but on the other, I think it's complicated my life in a lot of ways that weren't needed. But I don't think it was the "wrong" thing to do, either; I've certainly gained a lot of insight as a result, and grown quite a bit.
More than once, I wonder what would have happened if I'd not met Elise and had gone through with my plans to go to the University of Alaska Anchorage...chances are the last three years or so would have been rather different. I'd probably never have met Ian, or Ryan, or almost any of the people I know now. On the other hand, I'd probably have a whole different set of acquaintances, and maybe even have had a whole different string of relationships. There's not really any way I can know, though it amuses me to think that there may be an Anchorage-based Rose out there in the multiverse somewhere who is wondering what would've happened if she'd gone to college in Fairbanks with most of the people she knew in Barrow.
Ian picked up a couple of LP's from the local thrift shop for 10 cents apiece, which we proceeded to listen to on a turntable that he picked up from somewhere or other. Oddly enough, I'm considering nabbing a turntable of my own (I could probably get one from the same thrift shop for a couple of bucks). There's some sort of strange elegance about listening to classical music on an old-school vinyl album. Though to tell the truth, I've always been somewhat interested in the way old records work - Ian described it as "a .WAV file, in hard copy". Which I thought seemed appropriate, though I still find it mind-boggling how teeny all the little variations in the record must be.
While we're on the subject of music, singing lessons start in a week or so. To be perfectly honest, this scares me shitless. I know it's something I need to do; but on the other hand, I've heard some pretty hair-raising horror stories from my mother and other people who've taken singing lessons. Plus there's the fact that if I recognize the fact that I have a voice and really love singing (yes, I know, I've already recognized it, but I can still be in semi-denial, dammit), I'll have to do something about it. Though I still have no clue what.
I suppose I just have to take it one day at a time...
It strikes me that, as of tomorrow, I will be consciously out of a relationship for the first time since...sheesh, since before I graduated high school. Admittedly, my relationship status has been indeterminate at times in between (specifically when Ian and I were doing our see-saw thing), but I've generally gone straight from person to person - Elise, Ian, Greg, Ian, Ryan, Ian, Ryan (and that's just actual relationships, not counting fuckbuddies on the side and whatnot). On the one hand, it's meant that I've (almost) never wanted for good sex, but on the other, I think it's complicated my life in a lot of ways that weren't needed. But I don't think it was the "wrong" thing to do, either; I've certainly gained a lot of insight as a result, and grown quite a bit.
More than once, I wonder what would have happened if I'd not met Elise and had gone through with my plans to go to the University of Alaska Anchorage...chances are the last three years or so would have been rather different. I'd probably never have met Ian, or Ryan, or almost any of the people I know now. On the other hand, I'd probably have a whole different set of acquaintances, and maybe even have had a whole different string of relationships. There's not really any way I can know, though it amuses me to think that there may be an Anchorage-based Rose out there in the multiverse somewhere who is wondering what would've happened if she'd gone to college in Fairbanks with most of the people she knew in Barrow.
Ian picked up a couple of LP's from the local thrift shop for 10 cents apiece, which we proceeded to listen to on a turntable that he picked up from somewhere or other. Oddly enough, I'm considering nabbing a turntable of my own (I could probably get one from the same thrift shop for a couple of bucks). There's some sort of strange elegance about listening to classical music on an old-school vinyl album. Though to tell the truth, I've always been somewhat interested in the way old records work - Ian described it as "a .WAV file, in hard copy". Which I thought seemed appropriate, though I still find it mind-boggling how teeny all the little variations in the record must be.
While we're on the subject of music, singing lessons start in a week or so. To be perfectly honest, this scares me shitless. I know it's something I need to do; but on the other hand, I've heard some pretty hair-raising horror stories from my mother and other people who've taken singing lessons. Plus there's the fact that if I recognize the fact that I have a voice and really love singing (yes, I know, I've already recognized it, but I can still be in semi-denial, dammit), I'll have to do something about it. Though I still have no clue what.
I suppose I just have to take it one day at a time...
