clutter

i finished packing my bag and weighed it; and somehow packing my whole life into one suitcase only weighs between 35 and 45 pounds (it's an old scale).

i'm not sure exactly why, but my 'excitement' gene has switched over to 'annoyed and kinda pissy'. truth is, vacations here in portland are more and more grating on me; my lack of a social life makes me a homebody, and accentuates the fact that i have social lives elsewhere. and it's hard to talk to my family, to discuss the things that i'm interested in, to feign interest in things they want to tell me and know that it's going the other way. milton and horse blankets, symbolism and whatever is happening at work. or on tv. and my room is too small and there are no drawers or shelves for anything and it all ends up on the floor. papers and books and shoes and water bottles, computer cords and empty boxes. a door that doesn't close and a light that blinks all night long. but this time---this time---there's something more, there's this trip, and i should be jumping up and down because it's gonna be a life-changing experience. but i did that, and now it's all down to finances, and knowing that i won't have enough, and i'll have to work it off this summer. which means i'll have to stay here this summer. it feels like a burden for me, more than for everyone else i know who's going abroad this year. it should be a fun and carefree six months, but i'm so sure that it's gonna be a rainy penny-pinching time instead. i mean, i saved up my money to go, i earned it, i kept my grades up. but i don't know if i'll have enough. i mean, i want to go to so many places--london and paris and germany and italy and spain and oslo and scotland and ireland--but what if i can't? what if i have to stay behind? it's not fair, and it makes me angry at myself and everyone. but part of me knows that it's going to work out. part of me knows that, if i get into debt, then at least it was worth it, and i'll get a great job this summer and work it off AND save up for living in vancouver. but being around my parents, everything seems like some great financial faustian tragedy. and i'm fed up. up to my ears. what i want, what i want more than anything right now, is to be on the plane over the atlantic, reading or writing or sleeping or watching some terrible movie, knowing that there are things that i've left behind and things that i'm about to meet, and that i'm no longer stuck in the limbo that is my parent's house. that i'll get out, and get around, and see things, and live again. because, even though i'm with the people that i love, i'm not happy. i'm anxious, like a cat that's been kept inside all day. and i just want that first day, friday, over with and to work out. for everyone to catch the bus on time and get to the school on time, get our rooms, get the package with the bedding in it, and rest. and get up on saturday morning and go for a walk. that's it. get me there, get me in, let me be.