jesus christ. i can't believe how much stuff is in there. and i'm such a hopeless pack rat that i cannot foresee myself getting rid of nearly enough crap. two bags down, tens to go. and then thinking i'm going to have to schlep all this shit should i follow through with these moving plans (and i will follow through, it just reduces my imminent anxiety by implying a loophole in the moving plan exists).
speaking of anxiety, i can really smell, hear, and see that spring is arriving. it's a beautiful day out there. i don't see myself going out into it. i think that's why i just got hit by a wave of weepy anxiety out of nowhere. i feel weird. i can't put my finger on it. and the bizarre feeling of going through old clothes and remembering a version of who you were at one time. i'm hoping this coffee medication will make me feel better soon.
darren decided to acquire a usa film festival membership. so now i have yet another source of tickets free to me (not so much to him). last night we went to the angelika to see ginger & cinnamon (or, as it seems to be better known as, dillo con parole mie). it was entertaining, especially if you enjoy italian movies filmed in greece about a horny 14 year old hell bent on losing her virginity with her 30 year old aunt in tow.
i spoke with my friend christie today. i became an aunt again early yesterday morning after they finally gave that poor girl a c-section. weird. i can't imagine the girl who's been one of my best friends for more than half my life being a mother. surreal.
during one of my coffee excursions with barbara recently, i upset us both by revealing the following tidbit of statistical information:
you know, technically, you and i are old enough to be grandmothers.
that's just not a pretty picture for me. and if we lived in africa where we all got our periods and married by age 10, we could be great grandmothers.
i'm going to go kill myself now.