VERY IMPORTANT

Today I made a folder entitled "VERY IMPORTANT SHIT" which was supposed to remind me not to tuck away said folder in a random box. Also, because labeling it this way made me smile. The problem is that now the folder is now all "Oh hello Mr. Robber, if you're going to steal something you should definitely steal me." Which makes me think that 1. I am a complete and total idiot sometimes and 2. that I should use my editing skills to interject a "^ Un" in front of the "Important" part just to toy with the hypothetical stealers of my identification.

If anyone feels like volunteering for the role of organizing my life, I promise to love you to pieces until the end of time. Really, not a bad deal at all if you think about it.

jeans lust

[image courtesy of NY Times]

Because I don’t like packing, and because I will no longer have to deal with my wardrobe choices being limited to jcrew, banana republic, and forever 21 (calm yourself. it’s just for bangley things) I’ve been getting rid of quite a bit. The wardrobe situation has been ESPECIALLY bad since Marshal Fields became Macys and the whole world collapsed around me. Which ok, fine. We live in West Michigan and no-one is really out to win the fashionista awards unless it results in a marriage proposal and a house with a white picket fence. Since I’m not looking for either at the moment, and because there's only so much shopping you can do over the internets, I guess I can relax. Also, it’s summer so clothes in general are less present than they might be in -5 degree weather. Come fall though, I have this sneaking suspicion that I’ll be entirely screwed.

Anyway, back to the point - getting rid of things. There’s actually not that much to get rid of. I’ve been fairly deliberate not to get too settled here, since I knew that in the long term I didn’t plan on staying. Which is partly why Rooms and I signed a lease that I could get out of at any point, and it’s also why there have been very few furniture purchases. Only a handful of what I have bought, or made, will be making the cut in the move. But somehow with the recent bout of pitching/donating, I managed to end up with exactly three pairs of jeans. When I realized that I’d effectively managed to whittle my wardrobe down to almost nothing, I had this moment of “take that you consumerist society!!!” This thought was followed with “day-um I’m low maintenance.” Until I got the new anthropologie catalog and remembered that my favoritest jeans that had the uncanny ability to make my ass look fiiiiiine had ripped from here to never-never land while climbing up on a roof. And now I want these. And these. And these.

lessons in innappropriate copy 101

This is what happens when you're tired and are given a somewhat ridiculous writing assignment that involves State and Local Governments, competitively bid contracts (hott!), and direction from the powers that be to inject some humor into the whole bit:

super sexy contracts

Ok, so maybe talking about contracts and cost savings isn't the most sexy subject to discuss. But it deserves a brief mention when that contract provides a competitively bid alternative to That Other Program (which we will not name).

BetterTogether delivers the products you want, at prices you can afford - which is a little bit sexy, if you're into that sort of thing.

on moving, leaving, etc.

I'm not good at goodbyes. There is some part of me, that wants to grip with both hands onto whatever I am leaving. Even when I know, deep down, that this is right. But still, I find myself wanting to sit down each person that matters, and fully communicate just how much I love them, just how much I'll miss them, and how this move has nothing to do with either of those factors. I find myself wanting to explain, that even though I get horribly depressed about the idea of giving up these friendships, the idea of staying is equally unhealthy. I want them to know that these things are true... and yet, in looking at the hours and days that are left, it's just not realistic.

I have two weeks to pack up a life that's taken six years to build. Eventually I'll wrap my head around all this, but right now it just feels like a blur.