No matter how much we tried to ignore it and live our lives ever so lightly the curse was hanging above our heads growing heavier and scarier each day. It was coming for us, we knew it but we continued to fall asleep and wake up with secure comfort of denial.
When, one morning, the door refused to open. That bloody attic was full! I am not speaking of fullness in its positive calming way represented by THE GLASS HALF FULL or FULFILMENT that we all seek but the frightening picture of cave being filled up with water pushing out last oxygen thus killing any even feeble chances for survival. Well, I guess there is no wander since I happen to have the most huggable grandma that is also obsessed with keeping everything until it does not either turn to ashes or is completely useless... I mean really completely useless because all broken can be fixed, being 'old' is not a reason, small may be passed to someone else... and some things just should stay in because... well, she definitely had a reason. Moreover, her behaviours were ever before supported by my uncle who shared this attitude especially in regard to books and old machines. On the top of it all stands my family's genetically integrated vice to tidy up as fast as possible therefore the attic became (so called) TEMPORARY solution.
This house was built by my grandparents having my dad and uncle growing up underneath its roof, subsequently me and my sisters as well... to be honest the whole upper floor of the house that is now our apartment used to be an attic... Imagine that! Thinking of it now... that space underneath the roof should be taken as a tiny version of its huge scary predecessor. All I want to say is... we are talking about 20 maybe 30 years of fullness.
Despite the fact that I had to spend 30 minutes in the shower trying to wash out spider webs from my hair and dust from my skin, there have been some interesting findings in the field of my ancient history that are worth noting.
Firstly I would like to introduce you into the carton box filled up with my early artistic works dating since the age of 6 till 8 which includes for instance my first ever magazine, small encyclopaedia of cats and dogs and a plastic mouse made from paper and stuffed with flour (so cool... although the inside was invaded by her living sisters... what a shame). I remember making that magazine not what I wrote so actually reading through it made me cry with laugher... There was an article involving one of the Slovak politician who according to my 'sources' publicly received a very embarrassing birthday gift from his wife as a revenge for the fight they had a night before... or one about a woman fighting for dogs' rights who tried to secure them private planes, so they can fly without supervision of their owner... not that they have to have one necessarily! I do not remember the encyclopaedia but it has a cool cover and some facts about cats that I didn't know... did you know that one of the five good reasons why to have a cat is because it does not take much space... and the second is because it is pretty? But really! I listed legends about cats since Ancient Egypt... I was awesome even as a child! :P
My dad's guitar!
I remember sneaking into parents' bedroom when I was little (he still played at the time), pulling out the guitar from under the bed and trying to play but I was too little to hold it properly. That guitar was sacred instrument for me. When I found it now it had no strings left and it held together only by a miracle. It went straight the bin but what can you do...
Picture of me on my first day of school! Tiny with two pony tails so scared of that hostile institution! I only went there because they bribed me with a colourful backpack a moment of weakness I regret till present day. ( I will upload the picture when I get a chance to scan it!)
I found a Contract that I wrote down to protect my belongings from my irresponsible older sister (who never put away my clothes and had a tendency to damage my stuff in general), made her sign it and had that document authenticated by mom! According that I could so sue her just now!
The Huge welcome poster you guys made for me when I arrived to USA! I was so exhausted after those 36 hours of travelling... the agency sent me all by myself when I had change flight four times... I felt like my English is no good... All the security checks... problems with baggage... till today I am not quite sure how the hell did I managed to go through it without missing any flight and arrive on time! So by the time I reached Sioux Falls, you can't blame be for passing you by even though the poster bore my name printed in huge blue letters! Still have it!
My first Halloween costume: Miss Sparrow!
Oh... How could I forget! I found the letter I wrote about myself according to which the family was supposed to choose me... Seriously what was mom thinking? She chose me?! That letter was nuts! I can't believe I sent that out on the other side of the world to be read by many many potential families... at least it found me an equally crazy match! :D
The bracelet! Andres, do you remember the handmade Ecuador bracelet you gave me once? I thought I lost it while still in US but to my great surprise I found it in one of the boxes with all the school materials from America (which I discover as well)! Speaking of them... I remembered the essay Mr Nelson made us write as a tribute to the Transcendentalism on our Ideal life... His enthusiastic commentary: 'Just Do It' is still deeply tattooed on my soul. (First adult person that ever said that to me on behalf of my plans)
I also found the fake Passport from French camp in north Minnesota that reminded me of my second personality... Dominique Robespierre, irresistible but dangerous Femme Fatale... which reminded me of my third and fourth personalities then those mentioned the poor forgotten fifth one... Who is supposed to keep track of them all I am A womEn of many faces!
The photo mix CD Jess made for me before I left! I watched it again today.... First time you played it for me it made me cry so much I had to watch it three or four times to actually see it. I miss you!
I had the pleasure of reading some of my early works... that was just too... indescribable?! However, I have to admit, some of them were not bad. Writing style and plots were good, characters not very complex though. But few poems were quite impressive... especially the one called (in translation) 'Dirty Dancing'... I was fifteen I had no idea what I was writing about but hmmm... it was really good! I captured the spirit...ehm... well!
I also discovered the newspaper's special edition from the Literary Festival in Zilina. It completely disappeared from my consciousness; I forgot I have ever done something of that sort. What I do remember clearly is that I was the only one from the workshop who got published two articles!!! (I would be proud but I read them again and I personally think they are very bad...) One important attribute is connected to this event which is my realisation I do not want to be a journalist at any cost... I would like to have my own newspaper/magazine though... that would be different... that has an attractive smell of liberty!
Then the script of the parody on Cyrano De Bergerac I wrote (in French; though only thanks to help from my professor because there were times when my French made people actually cry) for The French-Slovak cultural exchange project we did in our senior year! Katarina did you play in it as well? I found only one page of the script... the legendary one! The flower pot is bind to fall upon Cyrano's head and mortally wound him... (for major lack of male actors I was Cyrano) and the most exciting part... the pot actually cracked on my head bringing the audience to abrupt jump and made scream out loud of excitement and worry.... ok I am little overrating it... they were laughing mostly...
Speaking of my 'acting' I also stumbled upon the DVD from our prom... watched the singing classroom sketch. My favourite! I think that was the best we did... The role of nasty professor was always for me! I was enjoying every second of it! (Except that terrible yellow two piece suit that I wore... good for the scene but if I am to be a nasty professor in real life I would be amazingly dressed nasty professor!) Oh... good times...
The flower covered notebook...
Remember, Tánička? You made it for my birthday our first or second year of high school! You never knew what I wrote inside but believe me some issues are better off not being brought to spotlight... some of my evil plans... that was the beginning of all 'evil' in my life actually.. I forgot about it... See Katarina? It started looooong ago!
The French conversation book!
Katarina! Hope you are reading this as you probably will be one of the few... remember.... senior yea... That special time when I made you try the ecstasy awakened by subtle properties of caramel latte? You fell in love... and high level of sugar in our blood made our French class afterwards completely useless because we were laughing like crazy bunch of escaped penguins.
The Geisha Dress!!!
My second Halloween experience spent in Kent for a change! That night was amazing... although after that we assumed parties in Eliot are simply too bed to be true... but guys do you remember that English boy dressed up as a pink fairy that try to hit on Alyssa??? But that was the first time, I think, we have witnessed Lauren under the influence of alcohol, she was so adorable...
And it took them THREE days to clean the floor in Eliot halls! Awful! I just hated that building... And the fire alarm that went off randomly at night making everyone get out of their beds and stand outside in freezing cold wind... and prison like architecture? That's why I think Parkwood was much better place to die! Although that didn't matter much as I was in Starbuck all the time anyway that year... Lenka? That was the best essay writing place in town!
Then some curiosities... We actually had up there an ancient keyboard from the early PET computers, rusted metal spotlight last used like fifteen years ago... prehistoric radio (and really mean prehistoric... it took me 5 minutes to guess it is a radio)... A bottle of salty sea water probably from our first holidays by the sea when I was 12... (An idea belonging to my beloved sister, I guess)
Some fist sized rocks... none knows how they got there
My creative writing notebook form second grade on topics such as poetic description of your school bag... cannot forget to mention old transmitting aerial rusted and broken in two parts that scratched my leg... some very very old mobile phones as well... interesting sight indeed!
There were also some brainwashing communistic titles from before revolution as for example 'History of workers union' (also on how to be a good workman), How to set up your own party (communistic of course), one book also on Capitalism (Printed in ZSSR so I am not sure whether that's good... I rather did not open the book...) Quite interesting from historical view point... scary for human common sense. Thank God, I was born into life after all that!
It took six people and one entire day to clean that up! And I was the' lucky one' who was in the darkness of the attic the whole time... now it seems like any other room except this one has all the useless stuff that remind me of all the useful events...
I fail to believe that the 'normal room' look will last very long, we are way too disorganized in our personal lives... but for now it is actually a nice place! I deserve a Noble prize for this!
That's all I had on my mind...
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