It has been one of those evenings. My parents are nicely bringing me a chair from my old bedroom tomorrow. It seemed logical since it matches my living room, and nobody is sitting in it there. There is also this huge hole in next to my TV that longs to be filled by the chair. So, for some reason, I decided to clean out my closets, in honor of the chair. The logic seemed, well, logical, in my head at the time. So around 8 this evening I set about dumping the contents of several "miscellaneous" boxes onto my living room floor and sorting through it all. I am left with three bags of trash and two boxes of crap for my Mama to look through tomorrow (often she donates old clothes and such). I also only have 7 purses left. Which is shocking. I have ALWAYS had a million purses, just like I have millions of pairs of shoes. This month's Vogue taught me that organizing one's closet is the only way to keep stylishly current.

The point to all this is that I cleaned out all sorts of things that remind me of who I used to be. It is strange to look through things that you touched long enough ago that your life was drastically different. Sort of like a time machine, it brought me back to moments that are simply gone. Now they are packed away in carefully labeled consolidated boxes and back in the closet again. Or they are in trash bags. Or bags to be sent to charity. It seems so strange to simply let go of life.

Like grains of sand through the hourglass, eh?

I learned some funny stuff about myself though...

I will throw ANYTHING in a box to get through moving faster. It’s neat though, I get to see all my thought processes from the past (little notes, lists, etc.)

I am waaaaaaayyyyyy more organized now than I used to be. By organized I mean increasingly anal.

The sight of my living room floor covered in junk makes me want to cry.

Cats never get sick of boxes. I wish they weren't so ugly, so I could leave one out for them to play with all the time.

I hate trite song lyrics. I wish I hadn't left my CDs in my car.

There are treasures, like missing 5 lb. weights, in those messy boxes. Now I have no excuse not to do that stupid tape. Damn.

Cleaning out closets is more entertaining than homework, and almost as productive.


I still have two drawers in my bedroom that I want to get sorted out before I go to bed tonight, if only to justify buying tons of new bras and panties.... Panties... Such a terrible word. Panties. Panties. Panties.


Random Etoile Fact: I love Buffy the Vampire Slayer (the show).