moving sucks, part I

You know how people are always saying "I'm NEVER moving again"? That's because moving sucks. My living room is an obstacle course of full boxes, half-full boxes, empty boxes, trash bags and darting cats. My coffee table is littered with (more) crap (than usual). And amongst all this, there's no way any actual routine cleaning is getting done.

On the positive side, J is sorting through his many, MANY boxes of possessions, trying his best to find things he can actually bear to part with. So this weekend, we shared many laughs (in between the even more numerous moments in which one of us nearly assassinated the other) over old diaries, photos, and other mementos. A few highlights:

--I found my diary from freshman year of high school, in which I spend pages discussing my huge crush on a boy whose hair is "long in the back, but not too long, because that would be ugly". I have a feeling I'll be sharing a few of these entries with you all eventually.

--J dug out his old prom photos, in which he sports hair that is, um, pretty darn long in the back, and a white tux (also short in the front, long in the back, like the hair) with a peach cummerbund to match his date's huge peach lace-and-frill covered dress. He's so lucky to have found me instead ;)

--At one point, J barged into the bathroom, where I was washing my hands, and announced "dry your hands, I have something cool to show you but be sure your hands are dry first." So I dried my hands, and at his instruction (which I'll probably seldom follow in the future), closed my eyes and opened my hands. When I opened my eyes I saw that I was holding a handful of teeth. NOT cute, innocent baby teeth. No, these were his Big, Ugly, Adult, WISDOM TEETH. Not exactly what I was expecting. However, I will admit that this was much less traumatic then the time he showed me the rubber-banded remains of that long-in-the-back part of his former hairstyle, which he had for some UNGODLY reason kept in a box since he cut it off. I'm pretty sure I insisted that we could reminisce over his long lost mullet just fine by looking at pictures of it; and so it found its way to the dump, where it probably got covered in toxic waste and is now roaming the Northeast attaching itself to unsuspecting victims.

With regard to something else I discovered during this hellish moving process: I would just like to say that I love the fact that J and I have at least 2 giant Rubbermaid bins labeled "Costumes".