I NEED IT I NEED IT

I'm moving to San Francisco in September.  I will be getting out there by driving my 1997 Subaru Legacy wagon, which was purchased after this conversation:

My mom's boss: Well, I'm taking my old car to the dump today.
My mom: Oh, I'll buy it from you for a thousand dollars so my husband and I can spend several thousand dollars a pop fixing it up five times a year for the next few years!

Okay maybe that's not exactly what happened, but it would have been incredibly psychic of my mom if it had been.

One time we tried to drive this car from South Burlington to Boston with a completely full trunk/backseat and a full-size mattress and boxspring on top.  The clutch pretty much committed suicide about 12 minutes into the trip, which made for a really fun 6:12 AM experience.

Since I have to drive this car to San Francisco, I am not optimistic about its ability to take a million things.  So I have made a list.  Here is the current list, copied and pasted from the Word document:

Things I will take to SF, arranged by room.

Bathroom:

Nothing.  I’ll buy it when I get there.

Kitchen:

Knives

Knife roll

Rolling pin

Cast iron pans—too heavy to ship, so I’ll ditch it if the car breaks down

Big frying pan—samesies

Tongs!

Faery egg whisk

Everything else…yard sale.

Living room:

Will we have one?  I don’t know.

One hefty box of books including:

T

B

D

Nothing else?  I don’t think so…

Bedroom:

Computer/charger

iPod/charger

iHome

Pillow

Sheets

Outdoorsy stuff:

Bike

Helmet

Lock

Pump

Lights

Bike tool

Sleeping bag

Inflatable thing

Exercise ball

Racquetball stuff

Swimming stuff

Climbing stuff

Water bottles

This list makes me seem like I'm super outdoorsy, and also like I'm not actually a musician.  I need to update it to include the five trumpets, guitar, and keyboard that I own.  And all my music.  And mutes.

Also, am I a nudist or what?  Am I really bringing zero clothes?

Well, if things go the way I'm hoping they will in this Mecca of lesbians, I won't need any.  Alllllright.

But the point remains: what do I really need?  What books are going to go in that box, out of the eight zillion that I consider mine in this house?  How about all the little mementos I've kept? Postcards, rocks, real-paper-photos-from-when-Facebook-didn't-exist?  I'm going to be in this city, 3000 miles away from the house I grew up in, for at least two years.  I'm going to be a real person.  What things does a real person need?