NYinBW (Long Island City, NY; 10/2010)

Stuff

I feel a little disgusted by excess, by myself. I went furniture shopping with my Mom today, on my first full day back in NY. It's my first time staying at their new home in Long Island, deep in the boonies, off the side of some middle class road where strip malls are "shoppes" and all produce is organic. The house is big and still mostly empty, spread thin with traces of our old home in Queens. We grew up poor, but sometime while I was away at college and later working in LA, things changed.

Unexpectedly, I was at once relieved and saddened to find that the many items they had hoarded and refurbished over the past 20 years in the US had been thrown away in the move. And as we snaked through the various show floors in search of a second set of couches for an upstairs seating area, I felt an uneasiness welling up with each but cursory glance my Mom gave to the price tag of something that caught her fancy.

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A few weeks ago, I bought myself a nice Marc Jacobs purse. In all fairness, I don't shop often, and when I do, it's usually one or two items on sale (like the purse). Buying stuff isn't usually top of mind for me. I wear items that last and clean out my closet regularly for Goodwill.

And, so, I justify nicer purchases as occasional investments that will be used until their dying day--just like my old phone whose screen was cracked and crumbling, and was only thrown out when it finally refused to wake up one balmy summer morning..just like Carl, my 1991 Toyota Cressida who spun out on the highway, hit a side railing causing engine damage, and eventually decelerated into an eerie silence off the shoulder of the 60 East.

All this writing, even now, is a shame-based attempt to convince myself that I haven't sold out to a level of comfort that is unnecessary but permissible by the world's standards--not completely, wholly, or easily. Part of me is still putting up a fight. In all honesty, the most freedom I've felt in recent years came with the selling/giving away of my few belongings before heading out to China to teach for three months. There I lived in the girls dorm with communal showers, out of just one suitcase with two pairs of jeans and my Chicago sweats. It was plain, austere living among others doing the same, and I haven't since then felt that I needed anything more.

But I have so much, I realize. Coming home to the States after those three months, I eagerly clicked through Craigslist listings for single room rentals. Pack light and be ready to go. Perhaps sensing this and worried about my inability to settle down, my parents asked me to find some cheap real estate as an investment. It only made sense in a buyer's market, they said. And, so I did, and furnished the empty space with well-loved items with character from thrift stores and a couch I rather like purchased with a glut of amassed credit card points. I somewhat took pride in the final product that cost little, but was still very much more than what I've needed or wanted.