Out of the closet, dammit

Yesterday, in an effort to delay my CLEAN ALL THE THINGS plan for the week, I thought I would start small and pack up my closet. My thought process for this was pretty simple: I do not have a huge closet. Half of the crap in my closet isn't clothes.


Yeah. Not my brightest idea to embark on this odyssey with only a handful of cheese sticks as food. But I honestly didn't expect it to take so long. I didn't even stand around and dither as to what to do, which I do tend to do when presented with something that has more than one obvious plan of attack, even if no one else will witness my stellar failure if the first go is a mistake.

It started out well enough. The Princess and the Frog was on Fox, so I listened to that while I started pulling out what few clothes I actually had in there. Those were pretty easy to sort into "not keeping and cannot donate, donate, keep and no need for washing, and finally keep but wash please." Found a box for the keep, no washing, and dealt with the others pretty simply. Only ran into one hiccup and what was what to do with the black dress I will probably never wear again but I love it so much that I will not throw it out, but apparently it needs to be washed and it's dry clean only and nobody's got money for that nonsense yet. So... Yeah.


Then I went after the shelf in the middle which housed my Sailor Moon wall scroll (one of them, anyway) and approximately nine thousand Pullip boxes. I was torn on what to do with them but I realized a) these weren't really the boxes I cared too much about and b) the heat/humidity had already made some of them fall apart so I went through and made sure that I'd snagged all the accessories and cards from the boxes and then inadvertently filled up the entire recycling bin on day 1. Oi.


Then I hit the floor and started digging through the stuff down there, which wasn't too bad since I knew it was mostly stuffed animals and MyScene boxes. Which is what else clogged up the big blue bin. Oops. I kept a few intact, swiped the art from far more, and packed up the MH boxes because I really like those enough to try and keep.

Then came the top shelf and by now we've entered hour four, btw. Top shelf actually took the least amount of time but I was kind of in physical pain at this point. My wrist has been killing me off and on for weeks and work this week pretty much sent me into "if I have to grab one more pack of cigs, I will cry" mode. That pain and probably any adjustments I had to make for it meant it was radiating up to my elbow (though that wasn't too bad) and my shoulder was trying to kill me. JOY.

But all of it was worth it when I asked Widget to come up and see if these two Moxie Girls I bought eons ago would be appreciated by his little sisters. He assured me that one would love the blonde because "she loves monkeys" and the other would love the brunette because... I don't know why because. Just that she would. He took one look at the closet and said, unprompted, Whoa.

So while it's not empty at this point, it's pretty close. Spray paint, some stuff to ship off to the little sisters next weekend, my shoes, some plush, and a little food, plus a few dolls that need to find a box to jump into. Not bad at all. I did go back and make a Hello Kitty plush box. Because I have that many Hello Kitty plushies. And that doesn't even begin to include the Build a Bear ones. :P

Today we drop off the lease (yay!) because our attempts to do so Saturday were foiled. And then we make the living room our bitch.

Wish us luck!

(Btw, the moment the lease is turned in, I'll share the few pics I do have.)

ETA: As is vacation tradition, I took to my hair with the scissors and chopped 7 inches off. You can't tell a huge difference because I need Mums to even it out and it needs to dry a bit to see whether the longer bits are longer in a "yes, keep us" way or "no. Just no." way. It's a crapshoot each time. Sometimes it looks amazing and only needs the smallest of snips to keep everything looking fantabulous and sometimes... well, it's like I went after my hair while drunk, despite not being drunk at all. Go figure.

100 Things That Changed My Life: Day 15

There's a madman at my door.

  I don't remember how old I am in the following story, nor do I remember really what time of year it was. I'm not even 100% positive on the time of day, though I want to say it was early morning because we ate cereal, but if it was late enough summer/early enough fall, it would be entirely possible for it to be one of those rainy days in September that turns everything this weirdly blue-green and is just so incredibly dark that you wonder if one will ever see the sun again. It makes time pretty meaningless.

   There's a knock at the door and Mums answers. The next thing I know, my mother has left me sort of in charge of my brother and my youngest cousin on that side of the family, while she and her older sister have a chat. Something is clearly Wrong but I think I'm busy chasing marshmallows in my Rice Krispies so who knows for sure.

  Until I do know. I know very well because the adults' voices change and I become painfully aware that Something Big is going to happen any minute now. And it does. My uncle appears at the door, and there's a rush to the door to make sure it's locked (it is) and someone else checks the back door to make sure it is (again, it is) and Mom and Aunt are yelling through the door to my uncle to go away.
   I can't tell you whether or not I'm confused by this or if this is after the Halloween my grandfather told him that if he ever set foot on his property again, cops would be called no questions asked. He was banned from the premises FOREVER.

  I also can't recall if he called to find them first or if he just showed up. I want to say he showed up after calling, then disappeared and returned because Mums pulled me aside during one of the downtimes and told me something Very Important:
  I was to take my brother and my cousin upstairs and hide. I'm leaning towards my uncle showing up at least twice because I overheard the reason we were doing this (he threatened to get a gun or something with which to use to kill/maim anyone standing between him and his family) and I wouldn't have heard that over the phone.

   So he appears again and I make sure we all run up the stairs, no looking back, and we camp out in my brother's closet because it was the biggest and we could draw on the walls with chalk and I knew that would appeal to them because you just don't get to draw on the walls, ever, right? And I kept diverting their attention from the screaming match downstairs and praying to God that my uncle wouldn't kill my mother or make it through the door at all, while trying to pretend that this was simply an adventure and hey, don't hog all the blue chalk.
  I don't know how long we were up there, I don't know if the cops were called, or if my mom and my aunt came to find us or if they just called down that it was fine to come downstairs. I just remember sitting in the half darkness, praying while two kids (and I was well aware of being just a kid myself) needed me to keep them from hearing all the horrible things being said downstairs.

   Sometime that day I found out that my uncle was having a bit of a flashback due to the drugs he used and the time he spent in the military. Since my grandfather was in the navy and never went fullblown psychotic like that, I chalked it up to the drugs and vowed I would never, ever, ever touch any. Ever.
   I know this was said in front of cousin and brother because the boy chimed in with a "yeah!" and cousin nodded, plus it was used as a reason for her to not entirely hate/fear her father or something. "Sure, Daddy threatened to go all Shining on us with an axe but that's just the drugs talking!" Um, no?

  So. I just said no. Forever. Which, I'm pretty sure, makes me one of like, four people on the planet. My brother and my cousin both went in the opposite direction to the point where my brother likes to tell this non-related story:
   His friends kept telling him about this girl who would be perfect for him because she was basically him, only not a dude. This goes on for awhile because the perpetually baked are not the best when it comes to setting up actual dates. Eventually they run into each other at a party and someone realizes the two haven't met and now they are and introduces them. To which the boy says, "Look, I know it's the South, but I'm not datin' my cousin."
  Annnnnnnd cue the laugh track.

   So that's the story of how three kids can experience the same "I will kill you all!" moment and walk away to lead incredibly different lives. It's the reason I don't and haven't done drugs, nor do I feel in the least bit lame when it comes up, and yet I still feel weird when I realize that I'm the odd one out. Go figure.

Today is the boy's birthday, so I figured I'd give you a tale or two with him.