Spring Cleaning

So during every move I've ever made, I've thrown some things out. Not just cheap stuff either, valuable goods. I remember how when I was packing up my freshman year at Butler all my things to send to my new school USC, I ran out of boxes and ended up throwing out a small television and a twin-sized duvet. When I moved across the country to New York, I ironically let go of the least amount of stuff-- just some hats and mugs. Oh, and some furniture that ended up going to my brother's first apartment. But that furniture was originally my parents', it wasn't mine.

This time, for this move from my one bedroom in Prospect Park to the one bedroom apartment in The Pink House, I'm getting rid of a lot. A lot a lot a lot. For one thing, there are only two (relatively large) closets. For another, it's a one bedroom that has to house both me and the boy.

Poor Nick is such a trooper. While he goes for a minimalist approach to keeping things, I've inherited my father's hoarding traits. I save almost everything. Old copies of stories I've written? Saved. Old textbooks? Saved. Clothes? Definitely saved.

But that was back in the luxury of only having to worry about me myself and I. So, in a grand gesture of LIVING TOGETHER, I've thrown out/donated/mailed to my younger cousins a great deal of things. Martini glasses, some old plates. Dresses, dresses, dresses. Board games. More dresses. Some sweaters. Stacks of my old stories. Dresses. Bookcases. Dresses.

But even I have my limits. While I've gotten rid of a great many of my books-- or rather, set them aside to sell back to Strand -- I'm still keeping more than we'll outright have room for. Shelves will need to be built. Books will be stuffed in my closet. And Nick is being a dear about that.

What's Nick's biggest collection? His impressive records. And they only take up one small bookcase.

I'm embarrassed about how much crap I have. Sometimes I look at the pile of boxes and wonder what the hell I'm doing with so much junk.

The furniture I can't really be blamed for. My mom, when I first graduated college and was striking out on my own apartment wise, took me to Ethan Allen and bought me a bed set and a desk. There's no way they are going anywhere. And we split an armchair from Pottery Barn that I will be buried with.

The chair.

So, considering I have furniture that I can't part with, in the process of planning the move I've come up with ways to make these space-hoggers more couple-friendly. For one thing, the desk I never use save to house my random pens and crap will be used by Nick, who actually needs and uses a desk. And the blue hutch that housed all my DVDs? It can house plates, or books, or something more useful.

Perhaps the hardest thing I had to do was take most of my DVDs (save Criterions, etc) out of their cases and put them in one big booklet. But let me tell you, it's quite the space saver.

And yet still, STILL I have well over twenty or so boxes. It's disgusting.

Nick has gotten rid of some typical "bachelor" things, however. His futon, for instance, has passed.

And I guess he'd joke that he's lost some of his independence.

But here's the thing, and I hope Nick knows it. If I needed to get rid of all my books or even the expensive furniture to live with him, I would. Because I love him. And it's totally worth it. No apartment or house can hold our love.