Packing on Canada Day!

Happy Canada Day!

July 1st has always been kind of a special day for me. I moved out on my own for the first time. I was 19 and now 5 years later it feels like I am back to square one. Will I ever achieve independence again? How can I maintain my independence when I live at home with my mother, whom I think depends on me for a lot? I miss doing my own thing. My centre of my universe has been off centre for awhile now that I seem to be the centre of other peoples instead.

Anyways…

You think I would be doing something patriotic today, but alas I am packing and visiting with the dogs. I am glad to be moving but I could do with out the packing, cleaning and organising. I still have a long way to go and my entire room is a mess. It looked like a tornado has ripped through it and stripped any individuality it once had and spit up a bunch of displaced objects, boxes and garbage.

I keep finding stuff and thinking why on earth do I have this? Why did I keep this then I think about it and still keep it! Something of the things I find have sentimentality attached to it, like the things from Australia. But really all I care about is my books, DVD’s my journals, my photos, my camera my craft stuff, maybe my collectables and the dolls. (I’ll explain those later.) But for some reason I have toys, heaps of toys that I collected before Australia and some after. So I am attempting to find out which ones are special to me and which ones can be given away to Salvation Army, my brother or my friend Erica. Then I have random junk, and for some reason every single assignment since high school till university! I can’t decide if I need them or not. I might just have to let go of some of the sentimentality and do a massive give away. I seriously save everything I can get my hands on that I think will be useful for later or I just like for some random reason. It’s kind of scary.

I have recently taken my collecting obsession all the way back to a time when I was a child. I time when I made stories with 11 inch plastic actors. I’ve recently begun searching second hand stores which profit charities I might add for second hand Barbie dolls. A lot of the ones I have found feel abandoned, they are dirty and naked. Some have pen ink in their hair. These abandoned toys have all these stories behind them, who owned them, what games were they played in. They were loved once, but obviously not enough to get forgotten about and placed in a big giant bin at the Salvation Army or squirreled away in a corner of a dirty self at the Hospital Auxiliary. This all started I might add when my brother insisted I have girl toys.

I am on the opposite end of rejection. When I was 11 I started giving my dolls away thinking that I was too old for them. I had lost interest in them. I abandoned them. Luckily someone else took them in and began new stories and new relationships.

P.S. Mom said it was Sydney and Weiser Day!