BigHominid's Hairy Chasms: an intimate tour of 18 zones

I've got a ton of photos to foist upon you, and I've divided them into four groups:

1. pre-move
2. almost done packing
3. my new digs in Hayang
4. a tour of my new campus

The following photos are from before I started packing everything up. I took these pics as a way of quickly inventorying my possessions. To make the inventory more accurate, I divided my residence up into eighteen different zones, then labeled my packing boxes according to zone. This was far from a perfect system: for example, while it would have been ideal to lump all of my books together, some straggling books were instead grouped into a supplementary Zone 18, and thus were not packed with the books in Zones 1 to 7.

It could be that the following series of photos constitutes Too Much Information, because this really is about as comprehensive a catalogue of my possessions as you're ever likely to see. Feel free to look, point, and laugh, but don't judge too quickly: that huge mess of pills in Zone 16 isn't indicative of hyochrondria—most of those bottles are vitamins and the like. Call them "old-man pills," if you will. They keep me awake and help me shit. Hover your cursor over each image to see its caption.

All right... on with the show!

In creating these zones, I decided to start with the books in my living room and spiral outward from there. Zone 1 is the first big bookshelf next to where my TV used to be.

In creating these zones, I decided to start with the books in my living room and spiral outward from there. Zone 1 is the first big bookshelf next to where my TV used to be.

The bottom of that same bookshelf. In reality, these are two 3 x 3 shelves stacked one upon the other. They're from Target, and were easy to put together. If I ever move back to the States, I'll buy these shelves again. They're simple, good-looking, sturdy, and cheap.

Zone 2 is another tall bookshelf. This one isn't stacked: it's a single piece. If I recall correctly, this one didn't come from Target, and I wouldn't buy a shelf like this one again. The more modular the shelf, the better. By the way, the teddy bear and the fluffy seal have more to do with Mom than with me. The plastic polar bear, by contrast, was something I'd purchased for myself from an art-supply store.

The bottom half of Zone 2. That shelf was devoted primarily to Christianity-related material. The shelf for Zone 1 was mostly about religious diversity.

The upper half of Zone 3 features books on Eastern thought and Western philo (top). There are also plenty of books on religious studies, and the shelf dissolves into a potpourri of miscellany the farther down you go, as you'll see in a moment.

See what I mean? We start off with pop-science and end up with... cookbooks.

Zone 4 was primarily devoted to EFL and foreign-language studies. Philo books occupy the top of the shelf.

Zone 5 was the artsy-farty shelf, with travel books thrown in.

Zone 6 is my sad TV console, which Dr. Steve kindly put together for me two years ago. Back then, I had bought a beautiful LG HDTV, which I ended up giving back to Costco for a refund so I could pay that month's rent. One of the most painful returns I've ever made: it truly was a gorgeous TV.

Zone 7 was devoted mainly to generic literature and sci-fi/fantasy novels, many of which I haven't touched since high school or college. I'm especially ashamed of the number of movie novelizations I've read.

Zone 8 is the cuisine island, a rolling service/storage unit.

Zone 9 was the kitchen, which took a million years to pack up. Almost everything in Zone 9 has gone to my brother David, who said yes to inheriting it. We start off Zone 9 with a view of my food cabinet.

Here, we have a wider shot of the cabinet, sink, microwave, etc.

Opposite the sink and microwave, we've got the other side of my kitchenette: the electric range, the oven, a too-small prep surface, dish cabinets, and the fridge. Note, too, the food processor (which David's wife is delighted to have) and the slow-cooker, in which I made my pulled pork.

Trays and pans for baking, mostly unused during my time in Front Royal.

Being a tall guy, I could afford to store many items above the cabinets, as you see.

Ah, yes: the spice and seasoning pantry, where all the flavor happens. In my new studio, I have no clue where I'm going to put such things.

This part of Zone 9 is basically Mom's legacy: dried Korean items that date back to before she got cancer in 2009. David was hesitant about inheriting these items, many of which he felt might have gone stale. It's true: some of the seaweed, in particular, has lost its oomph. But most of these supplies are surprisingly edible, if only David and Patricia can figure out how to incorporate them into their cooking.

A closer look at some of the Korean items.

My impressively varied collection of tea, plus some sundries. Those small black shelves, like the bookshelves in Zones 1 through 7, all went to my office at YB in Centreville, VA.

Zone 10: the utility closet in the living room, right next to the front door. Sorry for the glare, but the original pic was overly dark.

Another peek into Zone 10. You see that I'm a fan of Swiffer products.

Zone 11 included everything in my guest bedroom. A lot needed to be taken apart and packed; my buddy Steve helped immensely with all that.

Lots of art supplies, as you can see. Didn't do much art during my time in Front Royal, alas.

Ah, the bunk bed. That has gone to my buddy Mike's son, who is delighted to have it in his room. One of his sisters also has a bunk bed, so this puts Mike's son on equal footing with her. The boy also got my master bedroom's dresser, but we'll get to that shortly.

One of two vertical lamps that proved a bit difficult to stuff into public storage.

I had trouble using the bunk bed. The ladder's rungs were too painfully thin for me to rest my weight on them; they bit into my feet. Also, trying to climb up the side was impossible for my 300-pound self: the bed kept tipping over. Ultimately, I had to climb up the FOOT of the bed to reach the top bunk. Embarrassing.

The guest bedroom also had its own closet. I recall being delighted by the profusion of storage space in this apartment when I moved in.

And now we move on to Zone 12: the half-bathroom. This room includes just a sink and a toilet. No bidet. Sorry, Frenchies.

Note the abundance of soap and toothpaste. Thank you, Costco. It's a damn shame I couldn't take you all with me, O Irish Spring and Kirkland Pro Complete. Maybe I'll come get you guys next year, if I move to a larger place.

Zone 13! The master bathroom. You have no idea how much I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed that damn toilet. Every single flush hole got a reaming. It was brutal. But purifying.

The sink cabinet includes many of the standard items you'd expect to find in a typical residential bathroom, but off to the left and behind the toilet paper, there's also a box of camping-related items.

The bathtub and shower caddy. After this picture was taken, I attacked the tub with the same level of fury I had levied against the toilet. Unbelievable how much soap scum can accumulate over three years.

Zone 14 was exclusively devoted to the master bed and bedding. The mattress and box spring got tossed out, but I saved the blankets and sheets. The frame went to Mike's family.

Zone 15 was a tiny district in the master bedroom—basically, the nightstand, plus everything in it or on it. I had intended to take many of those books with me, but was unable to, thanks to draconian weight restrictions on airline baggage.

Same pic, but with one drawer of the nightstand open.

Zone 16 was the dresser. No, I'm not a hypochondriac. Those are mostly vitamins. The dresser went to Mike's son, whose bedroom is now about as fully stocked with furniture as it can possibly be.

Dresser, with bottom drawers open. The bottom-center drawer reveals my great shame: receipts and other financial paperwork that I never got around to organizing. By the time I moved out, that drawer was ready to explode, it was so full.

Zone 17: the apartment's crowning glory—the master bedroom's walk-in closet. When everyone came to help me move on Saturday, we didn't even bother with this closet, and I paid the price for it: the next day, Sunday the 11th, David and Patricia came over and helped me load the closet's contents into our vehicles. That took a lot of work.

Another shot: clothing, ties, and knickknacks.

This shot actually includes Mom's remains. I won't tell you where, specifically, they've been housed.

Zone 18 was basically the 'leftover' zone. Most of these books were plucked from my shelves and taken to YB, where I frequently consulted them when working with my students.

Whew... that was quite a lot of photos. I hope you enjoyed this intimate tour of where I used to live, and have perhaps come to appreciate the sheer scale of the move I just effected. The next three pic dumps won't be quite this ambitious, but I'm going to take a break for a few hours before I assault you with more images.

_

2 comments:

John McCrareyAugust 17, 2013 at 11:17:00 AM GMT+9
Quite the eclectic collection of books. A well read and rounded man. Ha! I was a pretty big fan of Stephen King's early work, so it was nice to see Firestarter cracked open on the night stand.

Looking forward to the pics of the new digs and CUD campus.
CharlesAugust 19, 2013 at 11:09:00 AM GMT+9
Dang, that is a lot of stuff to pack. That must have been a nightmare.

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Saturday, August 17, 2013

an intimate tour of 18 zones

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