Having to choose what is left behind creates many more challenges than what to take. I see that superficially this is a semantic game. Each idea could mean the same thing. Both situations require something to be left, but there is a subtler force at work. When deciding what to take, you look for essentials. This clearly depends on the trip and of course the person. Vacations may seem simple and clear, but what happens when you are like many of the people I have known over the past few years who are on extended stays. My friends mike and sam, who I hung out with and spent Christmas day with on the side of an active volcano, were on a vacation, but theirs was a 12 month stint. Round the world ticket, 12 months to use it. True, they spent about 6 months in Australia, but when we met them, in month 11 of 12, they were down to one backpack each. Not some giant pack people hiking the Appalachian trail use, but a book bag size pack. True they were each jammed, but damn. If you have ever taken a two week vacation (or longer), you know that when you get back things are a bit different and you are usually somewhat content to be home. Now picture that feeling on a scale immensely larger. Where is your home? Do you have any of the same clothes you started out with? Chances are the only constants are your camera (maybe) and pack.

For mike and sam, they had nothing original when they made that final flight back to England. I know bc I saw them the night before they left mexico- they and karla and I went to dinner. It was strange when karla and I descended the tunnel into the metro station and they were going to walk a bit and then head back to the hotel. When you take leave of someone in a public space, it is quite different from leaving someone in an apt or house and taking a cab from there (or getting in your car and driving away never to see them again). When was the last time you knew you were seeing someone for the last time? Coworkers (students) come and go. But chances are for most of you your friends are your friends. You know them and even if they move away, you will see them again. I have made a kind of profession of having to say goodbye to people I will never see again. College is crap, so I will throw that out. San fran, I lost a lot. Yes, I hope to see many of them again, like hulia, kristanovich, some of the boys from the mill, but in general, the vast majority are gone. Three years after grad school and where do I stand. My last email to anyone in or around flagstaff was almost two years ago. Cuban b, jam, j-rod, a few others I hope to see again, but most I will never cross paths with again. Undoubtedly I am not alone in this, and most of the people reading this have an idea what I am describing, but imagine giving up your best friends, on average, every two years. Why would you do that?

Which brings me back to the original question. What do you leave behind? How many memories, weekends, trips, promises, will you simply not pack with you? If you could perhaps you would include them all, but realistically, you know damn well you cannot. Who do you cut? Why? How do you justify it to yourself, or do you simply let them fade away and hope you either gave them the wrong email address or simply never will write you. Is there any way to make yourself stop feeling like a bastard? And girlfriends or boyfriends that get left behind? Shit. I must say though that it seems to be easier being the one leaving than the one staying. All those little reminders that stay in a place long after you leave it: restaurants, common friends, even simple things like streets you used to travel to get their house, signs or commercials you used to laugh at. They don’t change. So you have to. Or become, I imagine, incredibly thick skinned. Either way, it sounds fucking horrible.

Books and clothes are the first on my cut list. Some of the clothes I came down here with I simply wore out. Washing by hand every week took its toll on shits, underwear, socks, and even pants. The seems just give out eventually from overuse. This is why normal people have a clothes rotation greater than two pairs of pants, seven shirts, seven pair of socks and underwear, etc. but then when you get beyond that number, how do you carry it around with you when you leave? Without a car, what do you do? If you cannot carry it for a minimum of 200 yards, then you are fucked my friend. Start junking shit. Clock radio you bought six months before? Gone. A book you bought, thought you might read, never did, and weighs half a pound? Out (times 10). You literally will get to the point of: okay, I know I will need deodorant, toothpaste, shampoo and soap where I am going, but do I have take with me what I have or can I just wait and buy it when I get there (will that make my first stop a drugstore or will I simply smell for a day or so)? You start to spend long amounts of time simple staring at your belongings, cataloguing. Those three shirts- Sergio, raul, or chucho. Those pants, Emilio. The sports coat clark gave you- return it.

It says a lot about you what you are willing to shed. How important is a book to you? If you are like, you just do not even buy things for yourself anymore. I will see about 10 people over the next few months that I have not seen in quite a while and I would like to bring them all gifts, but how? I have already bought another suitcase and will now have three checked and one carry on- over the limit and probably 50 bucks in fees (damn the new airline regulations), but what else can I do? Give away gifts I bought, in some cases, 8 months ago? So you start to weigh the worth of your belongings. What value does it have? Not only that, but what value will it have in 2 years when you may pick up and do it all over again?

Ultimately, you look around your apartment and realize that maybe 15% of what you see will be with you in two weeks (if you are me you do anyway). How do you justify what gets tossed? Little things like a mug I took from sanbornes restaurant holds as much value to me as a postcard I bought in Guanajuato, but only one of them will be making the voyage to Virginia. how many times have I already done this in other places? I have had 21 roommates over the last 15 years. And, two years ago, I had still had 21. that is a lot of damn people. The last time I wrote or heard from a single one of them not named jimza? Well over a year and a half. The last time I heard from one before that? Three years or more.

How do you keep count of these things? When you add it all up and settle the account, what do you do with the paper? I guess if it comes down to carrying it or shredding, then pass the matches.