Short List

It’s just a short list this time around, really. Doesn’t even compare to the one I had before I moved to Japan. This is both a good thing and a bad thing, since I love being done as much as I dearly love crossing items off of a To Do list. Nothing more satisfying than turning a sheet of long, neat columns into a hatcheted grid of red marks. Ahh. Bliss.

With two days left until the pigeon lands in Dublin, I must:

  • Buy a houseguest gift for Sean’s aunt and uncle, with whom we will stay until we find an apartment
  • Print out e-ticket
  • Finish paying my school fees
  • Find and pack passports
  • Pack belongings
  • Eat cupcakes, pizza, Gray’s Papaya dogs, knishes, and Mexican food
  • Sing at Marie’s Crisis
  • Notify my bank that I’ll be moving abroad again
  • Have small, intimate going away party
  • Notify people I work for that Thursday is D-Day
  • Figure out what to do with my 1988 Smith Corona typewriter and non-Mac Baby compatible printer/copier/scanner
  • I really do love my old typewriter; my Christmas gift the year I was 8
  • Really. I wrote 3 novels, two plays, and countless short stories on it
  • The noises it makes take me straight back to 1988; one hand typing, the other digging through a box of crackers
  • Too bad the correcting tape no longer works. Too bad the mammoth thing looks like it came from the Knight Rider lab.
  • I sort of forgot what it felt like to punch these keys, but I sort of never did. This machine is my childhood, borne of my childhood dream to be a writer.
  • If I could bring it to Dublin, where I will take one more step towards realizing that dream, I would.
  • Typing on it now, I don’t know that I can ever give it away.
  • Maybe Diego still store it. Please, Diego. Keep storing it for me.

So pretty much done. Ahhh. By Thursday afternoon, I’ll be needing a nice cigarette.


One Comment Add yours

  1. Kao says:

    I inherited an old, 1970s, electric typewriter from my grandfather when he passed away in ’99. I wrote everything on there, whether or not the ribbon was still good – secret letters to crushes, appreciation letters to best friends on the eve of our middle school graduation, apology letters to my parents when I royally screwed up. Typewriters are a sad thing that this current generation won’t ever experience – their loss, no matter how much I love computers.

    Like all good things in my childhood, my dad eventually lit my typewriter on fire without my leave 😛 I hope Diego is a better master-of-storage than my father . ^_^ But then again, *he’s* not crazy.

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