Doin' Niecy proud?

While I was in LA over Christmas, we kept watching marathons of the reality series 'Clean House' and I think the soothing yet brainwashing effect of watching it has gradually warmed me to the idea of throwing stuff out, minimizing the clutter and just generally organizing a place for everything to be, and everything in its place (which is kind of the same as the 5S and Lean philosophies for eliminating waste, although no engineer would really want you to know that, seeing as they'd want to keep their mystique). In general I'm kind of longing to have a place of my own again that I can do something about, interior-decorating-wise.

So as a kind of gear-up for the purging I expect myself to put my stowed-away belongings through when I get back to my apartment in Sweden, I have started to realize that I have to get rid of some stuff here in TO. Mostly because all the things I managed to accumulate are NOT going to fit comfortably in two luggages. But I'm working on it, filling some paper bags labeled "give away" behind the door with SOMETHING EVERY DAY. That principle makes the purging process easier on the angst, somehow. I have already successfully parted with several old friends (I am talking about sweaters and shoes, specifically) with what less sentimental types might deem a silly act of reverence. As I let go of them, over my lips will come the whispered phrase, "Thank you. You served well."

(Aw, don't laugh, I started doing this stuff at the age of thirteen - and I was pretty high-and-mighty already then - thanking each pair of contact lenses I threw away each month and replaced with new ones. Yes, it's just things, and I guess I could have worded my gratitude a bit less, um, medievally, but wouldn't ya know, IT IS A MANTRA now. I find it comforting to acknowledge that when I part with them,  I'm grateful for the time I had them. By the way, did anyone else think their toys would be heartbroken when you finally grew out of them as a kid? I apologized to my Little Ponies so many times when I turned [age withheld for mystique] and had to pack them away to the attic, and felt sorry for them for days afterwards...!)

Somewhere in all that packing-purging-thanking business, I sort of re-built my blog around a fave photo of mine, depicting the ceiling lights of Toronto restaurant Vdara (on Queen and Tecumseth). Like it? I think I have to try it on for a while, to see if it feels like home. Maybe it's a bit dark, despite the new ceiling lamps. But at least now, it's more like a room.

With no floor. :)