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The majority of my books are packed up now--a few more still to go, requiring that I get more boxes. I even ditched a bookcase yesterday. Which is ultimately a good and neccessary thing.

Unfortunately, it's affecting my mood--the resulting hole in my apartment feels like a missing visual tooth, which at the same time there is still so MUCH to pack that the thought is grueling. It's just enough to be unsettling without having changed the environment enough to be a whole new visual space. (I could change it that much, but that would require living out of boxes for three weeks, which is another kind of depressing.)

Discouraged by this, and with my comfort reading all in boxes, I do what I generally do in times of melancholy and called my buddy Alan, one of my oldest and dearest friends, who knows all of my most extravagant failings and still likes me anyway.  He can usually cheer me up, although perhaps not in the way that normal people would.

Ursula: "Actually, I'm doing pretty well. If I could just shake the nagging fear that no one will ever love me again, I'd do fine."

Alan: "Uh...yeah, see, that's just the human condition. You pretty much keep that one 'till you die."

Ursula: "OH! Well, shit, then I'm doing great! Cool!"

So that cheered me up. Unfortunately, this morning, the hole in my apartment was still there, so I went out for my usual two-mile slog around the lake, whereupon my iPod began crooning "...goin' to California...with an achin'...in my heart..." and I stopped in my tracks and said "OH DEAR GOD, I've become a Zepplin song."

And really, you gotta laugh.

Screw it, I'm packing up except for the Barong, basic art supplies, the computer station, and some dishes. It's better to have the whole feeling changed than to have a hole in the space you know.

When I went to California, my iPod decided to play that one, too. Then when I went to Texas, my iPod played every country song in the library (which, granted, isn't all that much. iPods are kind of creepy that way. They Know.

*sighs* sadly I've been living out of my boxes for a little over 3 weeks now myself. The problem is I don't have anywhere to PUT all my crap lol so there it sits, cluttering up my living room. my room I moved out of at the parents house looked depressingly barren when I left finally. It only took me a year, but I finally found a permanent job and of course it required a move to another state. Now to squirrel away money so I can afford furniture for the apartment so that I can stop living out of my boxes. Good luck with everything :3 You have a good friend there. He sounds awesome.

Stack the full boxes in the empty space and pretend that they're just in front of the bookcase.

Although, I tend to find the mere sight of packed boxes depressing.

*snerk* I may have mentioned it before, but when I got up on my last day in Pennsylvania, dragged myself into the shower, and clicked on the radio... "Welcome to the Hotel California... Such a lovely place...such a lovely face... "

It calls us, I swear... like the last lonely cookie in the cookie jar at midnight...

It's better to have the whole feeling changed than to have a hole in the space you know.

Truth. So much truth.

I don't have an iPod, but during the entire flight to California last year I played everything BUT that song and it was still stuck in my head.

*sends virtual non-creepy-stalker hugs*

From the sounds of it, you already have wonderful people around you both in real life and in your online fan base who love you dearly.

Although I know that's just not quite the same as romantic wonderful relationship love. Hmm.

Oh wells. Living out of boxes, I know all about. I'm still doing it, having broken up with boyfriend back in February, then living in two different states and moving house three times. I've been in my current place for over a month now though, and I think I'll stay here.
I still have everything packed away. My room looks incredibly impersonal and I have barely spent time at home at all.

An online fanbase that is willing to overnight you on your trek to California, no less, if you're driving. I doubt you'll have to pay for a hotel room at all.


That might cheer you up :D The baaaaabyanimals comm has declared August 2nd to be Wombat Day as the Antipodean equivalent to Groundhog Day.

A number of years back, my brother had a similar episode of synchronisity, only in his case it was a John Denver song he heard on the radio that happened to match his current situation. He decided that it was just too improbable to have been chance (I mean, what radio station plays John Denver any more?) and decided it was a Message from God. Soon thereafter he informed us in his family that he'd become a born-again Christian,* a status that has not yet changed.

Ursula, if you're going to use this event in your life as justification for taking on a new religion, we are all expecting you to select something a bit more creative than evangelical Christianity.

* This is what he told us was his reason for his new religious beliefs, but I would not be surprised if it was just a convenient excuse for him to finally bring up the topic with the rest of us.

Okay, okay, you got me. I'm a born-again Mithraist.

Bring me the white bull without a flaw!

If I could just shake the nagging fear that no one will ever love me again, I'd do fine.

This was my experience with divorce. It took me about 6 months to get rid of that feeling, even with daily contact with someone who loves me. Strangely, my divorce helped me reconnect with somewhat estranged parents, but I don't think you can count on being in the same state as yours.

I think the nagging goes away as you change circumstances. Good luck with your move.

Alan: "Uh...yeah, see, that's just the human condition. You pretty much keep that one 'till you die."

Well, that's a relief. Sort of.

People you haven't even met love you, I assure you. At least three live at my house. If you ever come to Seattle, we'll be glad to demonstrate, or at least put you up for the night.

Lets be honest, in terms of a people-who-know-of-her:people-who-love-her ratio, Ursula must be one of the most loved people in the world. And lots of people know of her.

I don't know how she copes. The adoring multitudes and seried ranks of worshippers would seriously have disturbed me by now.

*shuffles back into ranks of anonymous adulents, if that's a word*

If you're going to be here (the LA area) in November, you could come to my local con, LosCon. Your art would be a welcome addition to the artshow (which, to be honest, is a little sad).

Yay, LosCon! :D Wendy keeps trying to get me to go, but I keep being out of town.

Ugh... moving woes. I'm about to begin a two-week mad rush to clear out my current bachelor-pad apartment while also furnishing a new one across town for me and the fiance. And that's amidst full-time work, the conclusion of a Whitman & Dickinson essay course, and almost total absence of the equestrian fiance as she's prepping for a tri-county fair, of locally epic scale.

However, your tooth analogy amuses me more than it should, and is now doomed to become a photo-manip of turning my bookcase into a book-fanged* looming open-jawed beast, sneaking up upon an unsuspecting and bespectacled wombat librarian. Feel free to do this sort of image more justice than I possibly could, if art-therapy will aid your current plight. *fanboy hugs*

*The BBC Walking With Dinosaurs and Chased by Sea Monsters coffee-table books will be the upper canines. D&D manuals for the lower.

I want your hypnotic and very true icon.

Can it be shared?

It's weird to read this while I'm taking a break from packing stuff to move to California in a few weeks.