Clearing stuff away

Tidying my room...
I have a room just under the roofs, with my own bathroom and a piano. I have most of my art on the wall, mostly XIXth century engravings and a few reproductions, but also gifts from my sister and neighbour, talented artists. I have a bedside table, which I should replenish with single girl fun stuff (but only after my devout Muslim friend N comes for a visit...) and books everywhere, but no longer on the floor. My desk is empty of crap, and I've stored all the funny, romantic letters and postcards I've gotten along the way in a box at the bottom of a cupboard, to read when I'm ready.
I feel so much better.

My most precious item is probably my inflatable moose head, which has followed me from Chicago to Paris, and hopefully to Berlin. And next to it there is the letter S, spray-painted blue with my ex at a time where I was pretty blue, and my father was dying in the hospital. I'd get hopped up on sleeping pills and try to jump on X and fall asleep in the middle of it.

See! I'm laughing about all these memories.

My first boyfriend never spent any time at my place, because he felt uncomfortable here. So no memories there.

Here's to a year of good living, money saving for travel and happy studies.