Bryanna and the City

Sunday, April 17, 2005


Trying to unpack my stuff into a room half the size is extremely frustrating…however, it got me to thinking about something.


I’ve got it.
You’ve got it.
Everyone’s got it.

I never really think how much junk I carry with me until it’s time to pack that junk into boxes and then find a new place to store that junk when it’s time to unpack. For example, I’m not sure why I still have the letters sent to me by my Korean pen-pal when I was 12, or why I display the Mardi Gras beads I talked two “boys” into bestowing upon me without showing them my “you-know-what’s” at ACF 2004, or why I’ve never thrown out a single Archie comic…or even given one away? What is it about this junk that makes the thought of throwing it away so unsettling and sad?

Perhaps my biggest junk possession is my box…my secret tin box, that is. Over ten years of junk/crap/stuff is contained in that little box; my first pay stub from my first job, the hockey game ticket stub from a first date, the unsent letter written with a broken heart, an ex-boyfriend’s gym pass and even my hospital bracelet from my surgery 3 years ago. When I’m feeling nostalgic or grumpy or sad, I usually whip out that box. In fact, it’s sitting in my lap right now. I always have to chuckle when I read the notes sent to me by ACE during Religion class with “The Beaton”. This is what she had to say about boys, “I tell U, we’re better off without ‘em! Well, sometimes they’re fun to have around”. And you know what? I agree with her to this day. She was definitely wise beyond her years!

So why does this stuff mean so much to me? Why can’t I throw away a 6 year old empty pack of gum consumed while dating my first boyfriend? The only answer I can come up with is evidence. This little box is evidence of my life. Evidence of my tears and my joys. Evidence of where I was and how far I’ve come. Evidence of the lessons I’ve learned and the mistakes I’ve repeated. Evidence of the beautiful friendships I’ve been blessed with and the boys that tried to break my heart. Evidence of a life that one day I hope to share with my children…I just hope they don’t think it’s junk.