Tuesday, July 5, 2005

Going Away Party For One

So..though I've yet to officialy hire the moving company, or pack, or start getting rid of certain yucky pieces of furniture, I've been antsy about my upcoming move, and attempting to try and do something about it. Kind of. there's this awful unsettled anticipation when you are about to embark on something new, but have yet to close out the current chapter.

So last week I bought new shoes..and they're SPARKLY!!! My closet is filled with black brogues and funky Mary Janes, and my work shoes are well worn Merrils or something else quite sensible. I usually avoid buying shoes, as years of wearing Converse with no socks or chinese slippers and years of working on my feet ( and being a wee bit more than slightly chunky) have left me with some enormous footsies.

But last week M and I went shopping..as she finally HAS a job ( as I'm getting ready to quit one) and is starting to plan a move out of her parents house ( as I am planning on moving back to the nest) and of course, being attracted by shiny objects and totally unsensible at times, I found myself in a huge shoe department. And suprisingly, all the cute sparkly shoes FIT!!

So I know have my "mermaid shoes", my "if they were red instead of green they'd be ruby slippers" shoes, and my metallic embroidered " Oh my god i have to call my snotty sister, it has a KITTEN HEEL" shoes. Because, of course, instead of paring down before a move, i must aquire more stuff.

Having no boxes yet to pack anything in, I've rearranged my closet and placed my nice " if I wasn't a baker and actually cared if I looked grown up" clothes into bags for donation to some worthwile charity. I threw out all the old bras with broken underwire, which I just found several of strewn on the street as I took the pugs for a late night walk. And..I've been clearing out the cabinets.

Which means I found alcohol. All opened but barely used.

Despite the fact my beer consumption at work this past year has bested all beer ever previously consumed by me, I'm not a drinker. I just look like one. Seriously. Yet I have several bottles of vodka given to me by a previous cowroker, when i was managing a snooty bakery. She either thought I must drink like a fish because I had that job, or SHOULD drink like a fish because I had it. There's also a huge bottle each of bourbon and rum from my holiday baking.

Now of course, I'm thinking moving open bottles of hard liqour would be a no-no, so what am I to do?

All i can say is right now I'm running out of mixers, and I haven't even made a dent.