Packing

I hate it.

I also don't like being at my parent's place for more than a few hours at a time, as they just start telling me all the things I did wrong with my life.

God I'm annoying: such a complainer.

I miss people already. My apologies for not being more present during this whole Good-bye Process. Please accept these hilarious bad poems and emotional vomit from my slovenly ex-roommate's myspace, as a token of my remorse. (I went to retrieve my wireless router from my old place the other day, and there is now cookingware turned upside down in the carpeted livingroom. And that ceiling-scraping dead plant Tommy brought home is still on the kitchen table, rotting like Miss Haversham's cake in Great Expectations.)

I am leaving for Indiana in less than 12 hours. I have not had time to make my farewell phone calls to people. I told the saleswoman three times that I wasn't interested in opening a Macy's today because I'm from Indiana. When she asked for ID with my credit card, I handed over my California State ID like an idiot. But she said, sincerely, "Have a safe trip back to Indiana," after handing me my bag, so I guess it's okay.