cobwebs in my mind

i finally did it. i threw away 90% of my college school notes - 9 years after graduation. i guess the prospect of returning to school again in March made me admit that yes, i don't need to analyse The Scent of Green Papayas, or Bruce Lee's movies, argue about journalism law, or read those two hefty tomes on (outdated) media technologies anymore. So i gritted my teeth and threw bags of notes away for recycling - perhaps they may return in the form of toilet paper next year. The springcleaning was also inspired, no doubt, by the Spring Festival - the proverbial cleaning out the old to welcome in the new. But that process wasn't that easy, because i caught myself leafing through old school books, old essays, old pictures, old letters, and putting aside quite a fair bit into 'the box' for further investigation.

It was definitely the cliched 'walking down memory lane' to see my life as a child, to a teen, to a young student and now... oh well! What thrilled me especially was to discover that i still have those old diaries that recorded down my 'firsts' in life, including having my first period and all the awkwardness that came with it. I wrote copiously when i was young, thanks to an early start in diarying that was part of school work. Gradually as i entered high school, the diary became my closest friend whom i could pour out my troubles and conceal my secrets in. I wonder why it seems that it's mostly the girls who have their secret diaries while boys just never seemed to have that reflective period in their growing up years. I also put aside a few boxes of letters, birthday cards, christmas cards etc that had come from my old pals and from around the world from people i met on my travels. I just didn't have the heart to throw them away. So today was just the first step to cleaning out my room - and the easiest were the academic stuff. At least now, most of the stuff fit on my bookcase instead of spilling out in boxes on the floor. I know there's lots more to clear, but perhaps i'm not ready yet to do away with all my childhood memories yet. I still wish for the day when my grandchildren might discover my startling secrets when they read my diaries - like in Bridge over Madison County.