Hi, I'm Jennie, and I'm a packrat

Thursday, January 13, 2005

I'm a certified pack-rat. I find it hard to dispose of things, but only if it has sentimental value to me. There are lots of things I should throw out, but I can't yet. Not until I'm good and ready to.

There's a cabinet in my room filled with sentimental junk (as well as some things that I'm too lazy to throw out, hehehe!). I keep old magazines, old notebooks (because I think I can use some of the info I've taken down - yeah, right :p ), diaries, my old song lyrics book. I think even my old barbie dolls are there. I have a metal box in the cabinet filled with concert tickets, HS calling cards, hilarious notes passed in class. And most importantly letters. I rarely open it, but I know there are stuff there that would make me smile when I'm feeling down.

Last night I was in my room and I saw the big, new journal I got at Powerbooks, and my felt-tip pens. I remembered the planner I had in HS, which looked like a scrap book. Every entry had drawings, stickers, and was written in different colors. I wanted to look at it coz I thought of doing the same thing with my new journal (hehehe... feeling HS uli :p). I looked for it in the cabinet.

I could smell the musty scent of old papers as soon as I opened the cabinet. I said to myself, "Grabe, ang dami kong kalat." and proceeded to look for the old planner. It was then that I remembered that I already disposed of it a year ago. Nanghinayang ako. But it was quickly replaced by excitement when I saw the box filled with recollection letters (Palanca letters) from first year HS to College. Yup, I'm that sentimental.

Letters from each year were bunched together, and I read every one of them. It was great to read and I alternated from being teary-eyed (coz it was sweet) and laughing like a hyena. I read how my friends and classmates saw me year after year and how I've changed over the years. Most of the letters said I was funny, cheerful, smart, friendly and how they envied my drawings. Naks, natuwa naman ako dun. :p But what got me were the things they think I should change.

I realized how much of a hothead and how mataray I was as a freshman high school student, coz most of the letters mentioned that as my weak point. Hehehe... There was even a letter written by a friend that said she was afraid when I got mad. Sheesh.. I didn't know my temper was that bad. Then I got to read the letter given by one of my best friends, Marvi, when we were seniors. She said, "Do you remember what I wrote when we had our recollection freshman year? I said you should check your temper because you get mad at the slightest things? Well. I'm glad to say that you've mellowed over the years. You're not quick tempered anymore." And that made me smile.

There were letters that said "Happy Reco, enjoy the day, reflect and change what you want to change, etc" from classmates I wasn't really close to (and I was surprised I got letters from them, to be honest :p). There were also reco letters that were long and very personal from friends who know me inside and out. I intend to keep every one of them, personal and impersonal, for as long as I can. :)

Inside the same box were letters from friends during my 15th & 16th summer vacations, mostly greeting me a happy birthday and telling me how they were spending their time away from school. It was so nice to read them and I missed getting old fashioned, handwritten snail mail from friends. Sure we still communicate through emails and SMS, but nothing compares to getting snail mail. It's more personal, even if all that's written are, "Hello, how are you, na? I'm fine and I hope you are, too."

When I finsihed reading all of the letters, it was already past 1 am. I completely forgot about writing in my new journal, but I have this silly grin on my face, and a head filled with wonderful memories. And that's what I like about being a packrat.

----------------
My best friend and I planned to go to Miggy's wake last night, but we weren't able to go :(. Miggy was her friend since grade school, when they were in the annual grade 7 play, Ora et Labora. It was odd how we only realized we both knew him when he passed away.

0 comments: