And so, life goes on ...

A party, a move, a wedding ...
A never-ending cycle of planning, of finding stuff to toss (do I really need to keep the mix tapes I made in junior high? Answer: Maybe), of finding stuff to give away (those books that seemed such a good deal at $3 are so good if you don't read them), of finding stuff to pack for later (those water colors I never get a chance to use may yet see the light of day!).

I'm afraid of finding professional movers (every one I find has evil stuff said about them online -- PLEASE if you know good professional movers SEND ME A NOTE!!), but don't have friends who do heavy lifting.
It's almost to the point where I want to give everything except the boxes I can move myself away, then order new furniture delivered to the new place.

We don't want to register for gifts -- we don't need a sterling silver soup ladle and at 35 and 33, we have every kitchen utensil or bedsheet or towel we could ever need -- we want gift certificates. But how do you say that without seeming like money grubbers?

Ack, ack, ack ...

Listen to me complain about how much crap I have ...
God, I'm selfish.