On Moving and Growing Up4:17 PM
So I've spend a lot of time thinking lately about what I'm leaving behind as I head off to college next year and even more so, oddly, what I'm leaving behind as I move house this June.
My mom is getting remarried this August; I'm extremely happy for her, yet there is a part of me that is sad to leave behind some of the things that are apart of my life right now and have been for many, many years. My room, for example, is a huge mess yet I love it and it comforts me; it's my sanctuary, I do all of my work in here.
While it looks very "teenager" and I'll be turning 18 this month, the walls that have been painted light blue since the end of middle school for me have taken me through many tough times. My bulletin board holds every movie ticket that I've seen in the last five or so years, and I can remember the seasons I saw them in and the friends I was with, and whether or not I was being totally obnoxious in the theatre...(I'm sorry to anyone in those movies.)
I picked a star theme at the time I was redesigning this room with my mom because I had decided that they were my favorite shape. Most of the time my bed is left unmade and I have to crack the blinds with my hands since the piece that folds them open fell off last year.
There are National Honor Society attendance cards hanging off the edge (I'm the secretary), there is a picture frame on top of my hardcover Harry Potter books, chocolates next to buttons and candles, CD's next to stationary. It's like a game of I-Spy.
My book shelf has gotten over-crowded. I pile books on books of Young Adult fiction, with a random mixture of classics that I either fell in love with or was required to read for school.
The stars again...my grandma made me these, and we have to leave them with the house.
This lamp and I go way back...to my very first bedroom before my parents go divorced. I've honestly had this thing since I was in a crib.
Fun. My favorite band. I love this poster to death, although I do not plan to hang my belts in a hanging fruit basket anymore (side note: the fruit basket was a gift, and I didn't buy it for the soul purpose of hanging my accessories).
Another bookshelf, first belonging to my great grandmother, that hold many past and present obsessions of mine.
My clothes lie strewn on the floor most of the time, when I'm too lazy to pick them up and put them away. I took this picture at an angle where it doesn't look nearly as bad as it really is.
And my shoes...not where they should be.