Here I Am Composing A Burlesque

So, here's a night that's steadily become more and more familiar to me as I've gotten older and stayed in college. Tomorrow I put my ass on a plane and head back to the good, old college, this time around for my senior year. And man, much as thought finding myself a senior in high school was a trip and a half, being a senior in college is about a thousand times more intense. The realization that I'm rapidly coming up on true adulthood is enough to make me want to throw up in my mouth.

I'm the kind of person who still wears Batman boxers for Christ's sake. Surely that has to disqualify me from responsibility and shit. Given the choice, I would spend most of my days watching reruns of Gargoyles and eating cereal from tupperware.

I remember being an eighteen year old trying to fit as many years of life into suitcases. It was so hard back then to sort through all the things I owned and decide what I needed to take and what I could leave behind. The essentials were easy (obviously I was taking my jeans and my undies), but it was the knick knacks and detritus and the stuff that was hard. I think, in a way, we can be described as the sum of the little things that are important enough to keep near.

Three years later, it's weird to realize that I can fit everything that's important to me in one big duffel bag and one small duffel bag. There's a even the annual pile of stuff since deemed unnecessary that now belongs to my sister. Tee shirts I haven't worn and jeans that I've outgrown. Right now the big, heavy, ugly pink bag is packed and what's left are the odds and ends that go in the small one. It's a weird realization.