Cleaning out my closets, v. 2.0

I've decided that I need to start over with my clothing cleanse, part of Operation: 50%. I've been angsty about this all week for no good reason. Every time I wake up I look into my closet, say "ugh, there's nothing in here" and cast a longing glance toward my overflowing "cleanse" pile and sigh. I then, mind you, proceed to get dressed. Yep, that's right--in spite of having "nothing" in my closet, I haven't gone naked even one day this week. I think, though I'm not sure I want to admit it, that means I did it right the first time.

But, just to be safe, I'm going to redo the clothing cleanse. When I first went through, I don't think I prioritized quite correctly. Also, though it will be difficult, I think I need to have all of my laundry done so that I'm not trying to count (and keep) clothes that are only in my mind and not on the bed (where I do my sorting).

I'll start tomorrow, exactly one week after I started the last time. Tonight is do-the-laundry night.

Wish me luck...I'm going into battle here and the only survivors will be 213 pieces of clothing, Gatsby, and, hopefully, me.

The trouble with minimizing...

Okay...I'm still working on reducing my clothes as part of Operation: 50%. Tonight I decided to go through my "keep" stuff and start putting it away. (Everything has been in stacks in my bedroom since Sunday.) The "cleanse" pile--the stuff I'm getting rid of--is the biggest pile (I've ever seen in my life) and is near my door. I have a smallish pile--about 15 things--that I really want to keep, and I figured if I went through the big "keep" pile that I may find some things I could get rid of. The result is that I have a huge mess on my hands and I'm really not sure if I'm at my maximum 213 items or not. I need to put it all away, wash the clothes I've used this week, and then do a formal count again to make sure I'm at my max 50%.

Here are the thoughts I'm having as I go through things:

1. This is really pretty. I love this. I never wear it, but I really like it.

2. Why am I doing this? What's the reward for getting rid of 50% of my stuff? Less stuff? Who wants that?!

3. I have to be REALLY CAREFUL that my first action when I finish this project of mine is to not go out and buy a bunch of new stuff.

4. Why 50%? Why not 25%? Wouldn't that be better? I mean...half is a LOT. It's...like...half.

5. Which still leaves me with a lot of stuff. I mean, what I'm saying here is that 213 pieces of clothing isn't enough for me. Seriously? And I'm not even including socks/underwear in that.

6. I wonder if it was a wrong decision to include my yoga clothes and running clothes in the total. But why? I've been known to wear yoga clothes to school... if I want to use the argument that those clothes are so exclusive they can only be worn during certain events, well...that actually applies to a lot of my clothes. I don't wear my funeral home suits anywhere but the funeral home, but I still counted them. Granted, if I didn't count the yoga clothes, the running clothes or the suits (or, while we're at it, my party dresses) in the total, I'd have another...hell...fifty items I could keep?

I think the point here is, I have to set rules I'm willing to abide by. No one is going to look over my shoulder and say "Ummm....I counted 214...put one back." Or gripe at me because I don't count my yoga clothes as part of the total. Part of the whole struggle is that I've set the guidelines myself, and I have only myself to answer to.

But, this is a work in progress. I haven't thrown anything away...if I need to modify the system, I'll do so. The point is to end up feeling better, lighter, not regretful and angry. Maybe I reduce clothing by 25% first, then do another 25% later. I have a lot of options...

Peddling my wares...

It started with a credit card I got when I was 15 to take to France with me for "emergencies." Seventeen years later, I'm in debt. Not frighteningly so, but it's getting pretty close. So, I decided that I needed an intervention. And, the only person who would do that would be me. So, I had a long conversation with myself about where I am now and where I want to be and how I'm going to get there. And I decided that I needed to simplify. I need to simplify my house, my budget, my debt...pretty much my whole existence.

Last week I did clothes. I cut pretty deep, getting rid of some 60 pieces of clothing. I'll probably get the same amount when I do it again for summer clothing. Yeah, it's not hard to see where the debt came from, believe me. Today, I went straight for my own jugular. My bookcases. I'll spare you the gory details. Suffice to say, I removed about 150 books from my stacks.

This is where you come in. I need you to reach into your pockets and buy my books. They make great Christmas gifts, I promise. And I'm not talking crap books, either...there are authors you'll recognize and authors you won't, but I promise you all the books are good. Well, someone likes them. They make bestseller lists and stuff.

Enough talking... here's the link to the ad where my books are listed. The shipping is free. And if you buy more than one I'll probably cut you a pretty good deal. And you can probably write it off on your taxes as a charitable donation, because this girl needs some charity right now. Selling my books off...can you believe it?

Fingerless gloves

Alison McGhee loves my gloves.

I wear fingerless gloves from October until, oh, April. Mostly because my hands freeze wherever I am, especially at work. The other reason I wear them is because I like them. A lot. And when I'm at work, there are two responses: students love them, and adults are troubled by them. Adults mock my gloves, tease me about them, and shake their heads at me when I walk by. For example, a few days ago, the following conversation took place:

Him: Why don't you just wear a long sleeved shirt?
Me: It's 50 degrees. I wanted to wear short sleeves.
Him: Are your wrists cold?
Me: No, because I've got my gloves on.
Him: Well, it looks funny.
Me: You look funny.

You'll forgive my junior high comment at the end, but it's been (I think) since junior high since someone told me I looked funny without me asking "Hey, do I look funny in this?"

People will walk by me in the hallway "Hey, are your hands cold?" In my mind "No, fuckers, because I've got THESE GLOVES ON." Out loud I say "Yep."

I'll continue to wear my gloves not only because they work, but because I love wearing them. They make me happy. And yes, I wash them regularly (and I have about four pairs). They also set me apart from other people and when I get compliments from the likes of Alison McGhee, one of my favorite writers of all time, on them, that tends to eclipse all of the naysayers.