Replace the flesh (which is weak) with steel (which is strong).

Why do I always wind up forgetting and putting my 3 heaviest books in the same box?
As I was slogging stuff up into my new apartment yesterday, I did that thing you always do when you move: fantasize about throwing it all away.
It's especially an attractive option if, like me, all of your most prized posessions and favorite things were cheap and are a pain to move.
Take those 3 heavy books, for instance. One of them was a gift, so it's price isn't of my concern. It's the nice big Yoko Ono retrospective catalog from a few years ago. Fucker weighs like 4 times the weight of your average big fancy art book.
Book #2 is a yearbook from a big famous military school (whose name is escaping me now--Naval Academy? something...) I found in the trash outside a giant Squirrel Hill house one day. It's from the early 70s and is pretty damn sweet.
And the third book is a world atlas/encyclopedia from the early 1960s. I love this book. I think it was a dollar.
So, what I need all of you to do is remind me. Everytime I gripe about how much junk I have, and how heavy it all is, remind me of how much I love all my stupid books and records and Jimmy's Robot World coffee mug and plush things that shouldn't be plush.
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Then, this afternoon, Mom and I went to Kawaii and I bought more stuff I'll have to move (plus a present for Tiff). In my defense, though, I did need a 2007 planner and weird Japanese school/office supplies for my new job.