scrawls.

scrawls

still cheaper than therapy*

17.8.04

the floors of my parents' house.

i'm making progress on my list of things to blog. yay :) mom is a pack rat. more on this later (under "on being a first-generation child of a refugee.") so. not only are the rooms smaller and the ceilings lower and everything closer in (which, now that i think about it just a little bit more, may be partly due to the open floor plan of my own house here in TX and the lack of stuff in it) and everything sort of appearing to be more dense, but, everything really is more dense. mom has accumulated more stuff since i was last home (but i suppose it's only what i should be expecting from an avowed pack rat as i haven't been to new york in what, two and a half years?) but mom has not gotten rid of any stuff since i was last home (including the box of clothes of mine that didn't fit me any more, or i hated them, that i put in the garage and wrote SALVATION ARMY on and said I'm Done with These Please Give them Away - that box is still there because she didn't want to get rid of them) and mom didn't have enough space for the stuff that was there two and a half years ago and doesn't have enough space for the stuff that's there now. m and c, among others, can attest to this. it's awful. it's distracting. it makes me claustrophobic and uncomfortable. because there's room to walk between the stuff - aisles - little cleared pathways, like deer trails through a forest, only not as zen. if you're on a deer trail in a forest, at least you're in a forest. maybe more like the frozen hedge garden in the shining with an axe-wielding crazy person trying to find you. *sigh*

Labels: emptor, family

scrawled @ 15:03