Thursday, March 08, 2007

R.I.P., gentle backpack.

My darling backpack: you broke on me last Friday, at approximately 5:30 P.M. It is with great sadness that, after a week's worth of struggle, I've finally decided to let you move on to that great backpack place in the sky.

We've had some great times together, you and I. I purchased you back in the 8th grade, and, although you came with a lifetime guarantee, I'm surprised you've lasted this long. You've been a near-constant companion through-out my formative high-school years, and very nearly made it until the end of my university years as well.

You've endured my mistreatment like nothing else could have-- tolerating my knack for over-stuffing you with little more than a groan, allowing yourself to be soiled, kicked around, and generally ill-respected, even eventually substituting as a make-shift pencil case, as I got sick of continually losing mine-- and for that, I am grateful.

You've also been my invaluable travel companion on many, many memorable trips. Light enough to pack within my larger backpack, yet sturdy enough to hold up against the elements, you've always been by my side as I discovered the wonders of Puerto Rico, France, Spain, Madagascar, and Poland, just to name a few.

It may seem callous that I've replaced you so soon, backpack, but please try to understand where I'm coming from. I tried to hang on to the dream, really, I did. But it soon became obvious that pinning you up with safety pins just wasn't going to work out. For either of us: you just looked ridiculous, and had a tendency to pop open at the worst of times (i.e. when I was running to catch the bus), and I just got tired of pricking my fingers and wasting so much time fastening you open and shut. I'm sorry. But know this: just because I've replaced you doesn't mean that I like it. I don't like this new backpack of mine, full of snazzy compartments and clips.Go safely with the knowledge that it won't ever hold the tender place in my heart that I've reserved for you.

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Photo caption: my backpack (left) meets true love on Walden Pond, MA. April 2002.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

How touching...yet creepy... Then again I once gave a funeral to a watch I owned...

11:07 a.m.  
Blogger The Lazy Iguana said...

I buried the key to my first car in Skull Valley, Arizona. Under a junpier hedge. It will last forever in the dry desert climate.

The key to my second car was buried at sea. Carrysfort Reef in Key Largo. It probably turned to rust long ago.

5:19 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I am alive and well in Heaven for backpacks, finally reunited with my Backpack family. Clean as a whistle, mended and well fed. Thank you for your concern Victoria.

4:39 p.m.  
Blogger Victoria said...

Bwahahaha! Backpack, can it really be you?

5:47 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

BBBBOOOOOHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.. I wish I'd never seen this... this is aweful...

10:38 p.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I cried.

7:02 p.m.  

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