Lack of Investment

A Totoro pillow on the bed. A framed picture of my Freshman dorm-mates. A chocolate tin from Switzerland, a Moomin tin from Finland. Some dried-out roses from Tina in an ordinary drinking cup. My Tanuki toothpick holder. A Chinese scarf-tablecloth that was a gift from one of my cultural-ambassador partners. Norwegian fridge magnets and a round, wooden one that says Ljubljana.

My beautiful old-fashioned map poster is up on the wall above my bed, but I've only bothered to pin it for the 7 places I've actually lived. I have a framed picture of Prague above my desk, matching the one In has at home in Korea. Otherwise I just have a bunch of smaller, random photos from all over pinned here and there and everywhere. And I guess you could count my row of movies and the little, standing Family Scrapbook perched on top of those.

It's really not much, for a home. Any less and it would look downright barren and unwelcoming. But I've never really given this room the chance to be a home. One semester. It's hardly enough time to bother with unpacking. And I'm not that sensitive to things like that, anyway. A small part of me yearns for the day I can put down roots and spread out and start building something - but most of me doesn't care if that day is a long, long way away.

Most of me wants to be able to put my laptop and my camera and my passport in a backpack, and run out of the door without a backwards look. Alright, so in a perfect world I also have a big enough suitcase to throw in a rice cooker, and all of my camping gear. Maybe even some basic clothing. And maybe a little, dry, safe, warm corner back 'home' to hide my books and my movies for a later date.

I'm in limbo here, for this one semester. A piece of familiarity between two semesters. Its hard to make plans. I can't run for president of any clubs or sign on for a year-long job. In fact I just cancelled my reslife contract for next year, which I was only allowed to do because studying abroad is a 'school approved activity'.

In the shower, I have one bottle of cheap shampoo, one bottle of shaving cream, and one razor. I've switched the razor out twice now and it looks like I'll have to change out the shampoo once this semester as well. Pity.

My cupboards barer than its ever been. I have a meal plan and what's the point of hoarding? This is a good thing, I think. I have two bags of rice that it looks like I won't finish. Too much Ssamjang. And mostly a tiny mountain of stuff from the lake house that was due to expire and which I was instructed to "use up or throw out." I've restricted the lot of it to one small set of shelves. Set space for three micro-curries. Can't buy another one until I eat one of the ones I've already got.

I haven't really bothered getting to know my roommates, and they haven't really bothered getting to know me. That's fine. It really is. We don't fight, that's the important thing. In fact, we barely see each other at all. Fine. From what I know of them based on their decorations and the bits of conversations that slip through the cracks under doors, I have nothing against them but they're not exactly prime bestie material. I'm sure they feel the same way about me.