GET ME OUT OF THIS BOX! or Derya really is the prettiest

We are out of the box. We have showered. We have eaten salads and sandwiches. Yes, yes, yes. Here it is, the last two days in the box. I fear this blog entry is a little lacking. I am really, really tired and anxious from all of my belongings in sloppily packed boxes in my kitchen. Read Rachel’s blog if you want the real scoop.

Saturday

I think we chose the perfect amount of time to be in the box. Had we said three days and left on Friday, we probably would have felt that we left too soon– that the possibilities for positive interaction were endless and we would never get tired of it. I think what we learned yesterday is that there is such a concept as too much of a good thing. Even though the weekend was slower than than the weekdays, we are exhausted.

Signs that it is time to get out of the box:

*The first thing I heard when I woke up in the morning, and came out to sit on the stoop: “Mommy, I don’t understand. It’s not so interesting if they can get out of the box.”

*Ishi was closed so we blogged on the sidewalk in the glaring sun. The connection was weak and we were hot and exasperated. When I finally finished, after an hour and a half of pure frustration, I encountered a man waiting with a camera at the window. “Why aren’t you painting?” he asked, accusing. He obviously had an idea of the shot he wanted. I tried to explain that we had just come back from blogging, that charades was about to start and then a dance party, and that there wasn’t a point in setting up paints in the middle of all that. He walked away disappointed, as if I had cheated him.

*Rachel and I are having the same thoughts at the same times, finishing each other’s sentences, and speaking entire phrases in unison, even putting the “ums” and “likes” in the same places, with the same pauses. It is creepy.

* Nicholas actually said that he missed us. “Why?” I asked, milking it for everything it was worth. “Because it feels like Derya and I are dating.” On their dates, they have been going to the movies, taking pictures of cute, furry animals, and (surpise!) talking about Modernism.

* Quite frankly, we look bad. And we smell bad. Really bad.

*A woman walked by in the evening. “I bet this is getting a little old, ain’t it?” she said, with just a hint of spite. I told her it had been slower today, so we were just hanging out. What I wanted to say was, “Yea, we’re sick of you too, lady.”

*Brian, who had canceled a weekend trip with his friends to be here for me in the box, decided at the last minute to go on the trip. “You don’t like me anymore,” I teased. “No, I like you. I just don’t like the box. I feel like Kevin Federline.” It is true that we have neglected the people closest to us (Derya and Brian especially), that every conversation, by phone or in person, is cut short by strangers. Friendly and good-intentioned strangers, but strangers nonetheless. And when we finally get in a few minutes alone, all we have to talk about is the box.

The activities really did make the day worthwhile, however, as both were a lot of fun, and involved some new faces.

*Charades: Besides our Hub-Bub fam, two families came out to play charades with us. Both had very young daughters and I watched as the girls, too young for charades, paired off together and went for the sidewalk chalk. They drew an amorphous shape on the sidewalk, called it an “island” and sat in it together. Sara overheard one girl say to the other, “you’re a really good drawer.” Meanwhile, everyone else played charades. I love charades.

This girl was a lot better at it than the rest of us.

This fellow was in the process of acting out “Desert Storm,” no joke.

*Dance Party!- Some new friends that we have met in the box, Will and Mark, dropped off a strobe light (!) so we knew that the pressure was on for a good party. We got started late. Derya, Rachel and I ate Monsoon and drank wine on our porch until 10:00. Then Brad and Sara showed up. They were a grandma and grandpa in drag, which is awesome and goes along with the theme of this Halloween: meta-costumes, where the wearer pretends to be something, dressing up as something else. They were so inspiring, it made us want to dance

There was a wedding last night. We don’t know the couple, but were certainly affected by their union. Earlier, a woman stopped in traffic ran out of her car just as we were finishing our dinner. “Arielle? Rachel?” We nodded. “Here,” she said, and handed us red velvet cake from the wedding (possibly suggested by Alix, a wedding guest.) Later, Janice (who has become our most consistent visitor and unabashed participant in box activity) came by from the same wedding, with two friends, decked out, and that REALLY got the party started. Thanks, Janice! You’re the best!

The evening ended with Mark and Will coming back to check on our now party-of-two. We took our third break with them for last call at Delaney’s. It felt almost normal. Like, maybe, by the time we leave Spartanburg, we might have some kind of twenty-something social life in The Spiz (not that I wasn’t enjoying Friday nights knitting and talking about Modernism on Derya’s couch, but you know). Is that wishful thinking?

Tidbits:

*We napped again the box. It was hard because I kept hearing people’s confusion and awe through the windows, leading me to believe that this whole thing would have been more interesting if we were partly comatose throughout. The sleeping is what really startles people, and rightly so, as it is the most personal of all activities attempted in the box.

*I hate Wild Wing. No, really, I hate it. It is the difference between Spartanburg during the week and Spartanburg on the weekends. It is pounding on Rachel’s window as she is laying down to sleep; it is kicking our pumpkin halfway down the street and overturning newspaper stands– drunk, belligerent college boys. And what’s the deal with the name—Wild Wing Café? What kind of “café” is it exactly? I’ll stop here before I start ranting.

* Orah and Davies came by with their fluffly Shih-tzu Luna. Orah was dressed as a punk for Halloween. She looked awesome.

*The city was buzzing for Lt. Andrew Kinard’s homecoming. There was a procession including the police, a ton of motorcycles and two Hummer limos, a white one and a black one. While I think the sentiment is spot on and am deeply impressed at how Spartanburg has rallied behind one of its own (thousands attended the homecoming), I must relay George’s sentiment as he sat and ate breakfast with us on our stoop. “Excellent, because you only have to pay for the Hummer once, but nevermind fixing veteran’s health care, to take care of him for the rest of his life.” Also, nevermind the connection between gas guzzling Hummers and a certain oil-rich country which was invaded on dubious grounds. My heart goes out to this injured marine. Six soldiers from Spartanburg county have been killed so far in Iraq. At least he is back within the community who supports him.

The Drop-Box:

* I found out the origin of the brilliantly sculpted match. I don’t know if it adds to the magic or detracts from it. Sara dropped it in our box. She found it in her matchbox just that way. It was an accident, but what a beautiful, intricate accident it was. Now if we could only figure out who left us the shrinky-dink.

*We got lots of edible submissions yesterday. Thank you Clare Neely, for the chocolate, who has certainly done her share of worrying about us in the box, as only a mother can do.

* The prompt (which was largely ignored yesterday) was travel. Lydia happened to have her travel journal with her and copied a small section about her stay with an Amish family. Woah.

We Heart Each Other:

If I had to define something that was extremely clear yesterday it is that, quite simply, I really love my roommates (even Nicholas). Nicholas came to hang out with Rachel and I in her storefront room in the early evening. We got silly, laughing uncontrollably as we waved to the passing cars that were all waving at us, processing the whole situation anew on the fourth day. Later, all four of us hung out on the stoop and had a drink. I so much enjoyed their company. I detect in our interactions the marks of people who have grown to know each other very well. I felt for the first time that I would miss them all dearly when this is all over, and there was a pang of sadness in all of our gaiety.

Sunday:

You can check out the article from this morning’s Herald Journal here.

Activities:

(after a few had been given away)

*”It’s For You” was a success. We sorted through all of the things we accumulated in our stay here, things people had given us and things we or others had made while we were in the box, wrapped them up and put them out on the sidewalk as gifts. We got rid of everything and I feel like the right gifts went to the right people.

Burd got a watergun. He seemed to like it.

Drop-box:

*Someone left us a dollar bill wrapped around a ring and earrings.

* “What we need is art. Thank you.”

*Martha Tinder brought us incredible origami stars.

We’re pretty much done here. We started packing and moving things out in the middle of the day. And yet, it seemed as if people were, all of a sudden, not done with us. We had many visitors this morning, including a Fox News camera. The interview was actually not so bad. I felt I was able to verbalize the way I really feel, which is that everything about this project has been positive, really positive, and that I feel connected to the community in a way that seemed impossible before. I feel I have, through all of the different personalities encountered, collected a portrait of Spartanburg that is personal and endearing. Thank you, Spartanburg. It’s been real. Now, back to work.