Packing. And a trip down memory lane.

Once again, I am preparing to pack my life up. Time to move. Again. Well, I have told myself that I will kick it into high gear after Lollapalooza. So, as of August 9, please feel free to tell me to stop blogging and start packing. It's highly likely that anything  I do via twitter, yelp, facebook or blogspot will be an attempt to avoid packing. I need enforcers in my life. Help me.

One of my favorite things to do when I have a huge task on my plate is to procrastinate. I will go into the project with the best of intentions, yet I am so very easily distracted.

"Oooh, is that a shiny coin?" Yep, that's me.

Packing up my photographs is the worst. I can look at my wide collection of photographs over and over again. The packing of my photographs will most certainly mean me wasting a day of just looking at my old life when I was a youngster. Did you know that I used to be a cheerleader? It seems like another life. I remember my first year of law school when I told a classmate that I used to be a cheerleader. She said, "Really? I can't picture you as a cheerleader."

Well. Booyah.

There I am. Well, there we are. We did both cheerleading and dance, but competed mainly in dance. Above is a photograph from 1998, the IDTA State Competition. Delightful, right? Feel free to make fun of the spandex-clad, high-ponytaled, scrunchy-wearing bunch.

In any event, for most of my life up until the point where my law school classmate told me she couldn't see me as a cheerleader, I had identified with being one: a perky, fun-loving and ditzy girl. Someone telling me that I didn't seem that way was liberating for me. I still will defend cheerleading as a sport. I probably will forever. I did it for years, I know how hard we worked. I still have my videos from our state championships. And I remember routines we did. It will always be a part of me. I imagine that I am still described as fun-loving. Perky? Not-so-much. Ditzy? Depends on the day. I will still bust out a toe touch if need be. (Yeah right. I attempted to do the splits five years ago while I was studying for the bar exam. I couldn't get up the el stairs for a week. Bad idea.) Okay, so I might not actually bust out a toe touch, but I can remember the mechanics of how to do one. That counts for something, right?

On a similar note, I just proved my point. I started to write this, then decided I was going to throw an old photograph in here. I ended up going through all of the old photographs that I had scanned in over the winter onto my computer. Goooodbye thirty minutes! Good thing I haven't started packing yet. I'd be screwed already.