I'm getting paid to ramble.

I leaving for Thailand today. Right now I'm sitting at work, half awake from an almost all-night of various goodbyes, thinking of the piles of stuff, all impossibly claiming me as it's owner, that is piled all over Amber's bed waiting to be sorted and (some) packed. ("You're leaving for Thailand and you scheduled yourself to work all day??" Yes, I did do that. But after hearing that question over and over last night I realized there might be something to the idea of getting off early, and so I called the girl who's name is listed under Brittany in my phone but is actually named Natalie to see if she could take over the afternoon. I don't know why I put it in like that but so far I've always caught myself and remembered her actual name when its time to say hello.)

Anyways. I tried packing yesterday, and I realized that despite my desire to be free from materialistic burdens (and difficult luggage) I have this sneaky desire to bring my "cute" clothes in an effort to impress.........my camera. Yes that little box of (almost magic but) inanimate sensors, chips and who knows what else. Apparently that is how I plan to remember my time in Thailand, and I want to be sure it remembers things prettily. Is that silly? do we all do this? Before all this technology, “place” existed in your head. When you thought about places you had been previously, you thought of your version of that place. The fort in the forest that was miiiiles away from civilization and moms and chores where the trees were huge and most likely haunted at night and above all, were untouched by previous occupants (save the prehistoric peoples who made strange carvings on the trees and probably buried their treasure somewhere in the area). Have you ever gone back or seen a picture of that place and realized that the trees maybe weren't so big and that your mom could probably see you from the kitchen window and that the intricate carvings were made by termites? Do you want to realize that? If you keep your new "reality" far enough away from the ideas in your head I suppose you could probably still tell your kids convincing stories of your magical childhood but if you let these ideas become acquainted with your adult mind you may remember that you once thought there was buried treasure in the area but the desire to dig it up will fade-- the physical may be the same but the place and what it means to you has changed.

But I digress. My point is that cameras take pictures that we know are "reality" and they change the personal influence that our mind inserts into the idea of place. Not only is the fact that I know I will be photographed trying to alter how I will pack for Thailand, but forever when I want to remember my trip I will go back to these snapshots and remember what my camera recorded. There will be no need to burn images into my mind lest I forget, there will be no need to think up lush descriptions of shades of green enveloped in blankets of humidity because I can just show people the pictures and they will see what I saw (or so they think). Right now, I can get on Google Earth and look at satellite pictures of pretty much any place on earth. And maybe this is better. I actually enjoy the accessibility of far-away places like Tajikistan or Antarctica. Maybe this ranting is all just a result of some juvenile desire of mine to live in a world ruled by imagination and adventures into uncharted territory. Maybe I’m just panicking because most versions of “adult” life sound incredibly dull to me and cameras are the traitors that seem to be giving evidence against my dreams. But is the reality that my camera can record really more valuable than the one I instinctively create in my head? Isn’t there something healthy about taking things in as if your mind is the only way you will remember it all and processing every experience in a way that it can’t help but insert something personal?
I am the only one I know who wasn’t overcome with excitement over the fact that “Where the Wild Things Are” has become a movie.