Progress!

We are getting packed up. Slowly, but with gusto! I pledge - never again! We are going to grow old in our new house, and never ever move house again!

And In It Even Still

Slowly making progress. Not enough room to really put boxes together, in some rooms. Argh!!

Still Buried Under It

Ok, it's true. We've hardly made any progress with the decluttering and the packing. With working, all the back and forth appointments to arrange things for the new house, and just plain lethargy, we haven't made progress. I am trying to avoid a useless swim in the "I suck and can't get anything done" pool, but I really really just want to go upstairs, finish the novel I am reading, and then go to sleep early.

Oh, and P.S. Those motherf***ing developers put the decks on the monster houses overhanging our backyard today. It's appalling. I just know some self-important software millionaires will move in and spend all evening every evening talking talking talking on their cell phones while drinking martinis on those decks. Will they notice when the olive pits they spit out land on my head, on my dog, on my bedroom window? Have I mentioned the decks are right above my backyard? This is a good time to remind myself that I am moving to get away from exactly that.

I have to go pack now.

I have a confession to make

Some time over the last 10 years, my partner and I have become clutter bugs. I don't know why. We've made various attempts at de-cluttering, including hiring an organizer for a day. That helped for a while, but the clutter slowly (actually, quickly) reappeared. Now, it's gotten so bad that we've decided to just screw it, and move. [No, the photo is not of our actual clutter. It's an open photo of someone else's clutter from flicka.]

Ok, so the clutter isn't the thing prompting us to move (no, it's moreso the monstrous million dollar townhouses that a bastard "we're improving the community by building houses you can see from two miles away" Mt. Baker landbaron development company is building directly behind our house that's really sending us packing) but I have to admit: at times, I've wanted to light a match, toss it down, and walk away from it all.

I'm hopeful that the move will help us, literally, leave all this clutter behind us. We're separating out the stuff we don't want to take with us, so we don't move a bunch of crap we don't actually use. (Like the boxes and boxes of books, papers, and toiletries that have been sitting in our second bedroom for three years since we moved in here).

In the meantime, we now have about 27 hours before a real estate agent comes to our house to look around, tell us what we have to fix before listing the house, and giving us a recommendation for a listing price. If we haven't un-cluttered in 3 years, how can we do it in 27 hours? AARRGGHH! If you hear screaming echoing from Mt. Baker to Beacon Hill, then through downtown up to Queen Anne and Magnolia, don't worry: it's just me!

It's Him Again

Dear boy.

The Sweetest Boy

It's been a horrible week. The Washington State Supreme Court bowed to antiquated bigotry and pegged the queers as Enemy #1 of marriage (tell me, has your straight marriage directly felt the impact of the lovely backyard ceremony my beloved and I experienced March 19, 2004 in Portland? I didn't think so.) and upheld this state's so-called DOMA law. Then, a mentally ill Muslim-turned-Christian anti-Semite opened fire at Seattle's Jewish Federation offices, killing one woman and injuring five more. If that weren't enough, Hollywood's favorite nutjob let loose an anti-Semitic tirade when arrested for drunk driving, which not so subtly suggests that his lameass movie really was the product of his Jew-hating, Holocaust-denying, shriveled pathetic turd of a heart.

Times like this, I like to stare into the baby brown eyes of the sweetest boy I know and try to forget. The dear AG, as we like to call him, defends his territory, and loves his queer Jewish mommies. He may be small, but he'll rip out the throat of any bumpkin who treads on us. He doesn't judge, doesn't blame, and he's always happy to see us when we get home. For those reasons and more, we love him. VIVA AG!