Oz spent the weekend packing up his house (giving most of the contents to Goodwill) and I spent the weekend throwing stuff out (mostly to Goodwill) to make room for his stuff in my house. Moving without moving is exhausting, though much less hard than really moving.
I went through my spare closet and got rid of all my professional type clothes from the 80s: suits, some really nice skirts with sewn down pleats, nice lined wool slacks. Lots of pink. I'm so proud of myself.I didn't even stop to try things on. I went through a mostly empty trunk and found all the old shoulder pads which I snipped out of my clothes from way back when. (I have really square shoulders and shoulder pads look ridiculous on me.) I also found some big, chunky clip earrings (Purple! Gold!) which I don't remember wearing, but the sight of them induced earlobe pain, so I must have worn them at least once.
I have to get rid of more stuff. I have boxes for appliances I no longer own. I have enough clothes I never wear to clothe a village (a small, unlikely village of people my size, but a village nonetheless). I have a box, used in my family's move to Richmond in 1975, filled with doll clothes and dolls. I have a net bag filled with the stuffed animals which made the cut after my last move.
One person does not need all this much.
And, in a completely unrelated note: Thanks, readers, regular and ir-, for giving me such exciting webstats this month. You've numbered 3495 unique visitors this month (a 34% jump from last month, when you set your last record) and used nearly 2 GB of bandwidth, which is pretty impressive considering that all the pictures I've been posting are hosted on Flickr now. Makes me want to keep writing, not that I'd stop …
320 words | May 30, 2006 09:04 PM | Real true story