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Christine Hsieh/Photography Intern

I hate this time of the year. The time where I have to pack up my life, store it into as few boxes as I possibly can, shove and move everything back to Irvine. Basically, I just hate moving. Maybe if I were a guy, it’d be a lot easier and less strenuous. But, unfortunately, I’m a girl who owns 20-plus pairs of shoes and  needs an extra large suitcase and several boxes to fit her clothes. This doesn’t even include accessories, jewelry, books, dumbbells and makeup bags.

Needless to say, I favored the idea of putting off packing until the very last minute. It took me a while to figure out how to get started. After standing in the middle of my bedroom and surveying my surroundings, I finally decided my shoes should go first.

Yeah, big mistake! My mother certainly was baffled about it too. “Why on earth do you need so many shoes? You’re only a college student. You really only need your Converse,” she said. I didn’t think it was a good idea to tell her I actually have been thinking of adding a couple new pairs to my selection, so I said the next best thing to defend my case.

“You must be joking,” I sighed as I rolled my eyes. “I can’t possibly wear worn out Converse to banquets or nice dinners. I need my running shoes for the gym. And I need my boots for the chilly fall and winter season. I need a variety of flats to choose from. I need diversity in my life. One pair of shoes just doesn’t cut it.”

That usually puts a temporary end to my mother’s tongue clicks and disapproval.

After an hour of sorting through my various shoe boxes, discovering more shoes in the garage, and sadly tossing some in the “leave at home” pile, I found myself finished dealing with footwear.

Fortunately, I managed to pack everything else in a timely fashion. The only glitch was when I loaded my desk onto the SUV and had to take a 15 minute break as I nursed my wounds – a bloody scrape and fifty bruises in different places. This will always be one of those times that make me miss living in the dorms, where everything is furnished and in good condition.

I thought that would be the worst of it, but little did I know that was a false presumption. Moving in and unpacking are both equally painful.

“I better lose a couple of pounds from this,” I mumbled to my sister as we hauled the mattress and matching box spring off the SUV.

Once we towed everything – the lamps, desk, chairs, random boxes and bags, it was time to play carpenter and assemble it all.

I was fatigued and sleep deprived. I nearly burst into tears when I realized my sister had nailed the shelf together backwards and we had to start over. Everything worked out within two hours. That is until I had to deal with the closet.

I stood in front of the closet, wondering how on earth I was going to fit all my clothes and shoes into this tiny space provided. I could have sworn the closet space was larger before I had signed my signature on that lease form earlier this summer.

In an attempt to distract myself from the dilemma of my very small closet, I decided to start on decorating my walls. So up came the huge Transformers movie poster, the Glee mini-poster, and my collage of photos I’d taken with friends over the past few years. Not bad, I thought as I surveyed my work.

I finally decided it was time to go to Starbucks, take advantage of the free internet, and reward myself with a latte.

Oh, and what did I do about the closet crisis, you ask? Turns out, the space is actually larger than it looks. I should have been more concerned with the number of hangers I brought than the actual closet size. Let’s just say I spent quite a few dollars on hangers at Target. It was a lot more than I had planned, especially if I were to continue with my shopping excursions.

All in all, as long as you find space for your shoes, you will find a place in your home.

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