Angela Lansbury is creepy. Also, I've hit upon a brilliant, life changing solution to two of my most vexing problems. 1) My sad sad TV that I dragged across the country but haven't watched since 2005. 2) My inability to live in a space not resembling a national disaster area.
The answer... videos + cleaning! I was remarking the other day that my mom used to iron while watching masterpiece theater on PBS. Which, as Inder pointed out, is hard core. I need slightly more mindless entertainment while engaged in domestic activity, so I grabbed some old favorite videos from the store (In addition to books, we offer a bit of used everything and we do a particularly fine trade in VHS and vinyl.) Now I've got my own personal TBS rerun channel. A couple Sundays back I spent the whole day actually unpacking my worldly possessions into my room (and concluding that if I had to be locked in a room with only one movie on repeat, it would be A League of Their Own.) Just about 4.5 months after moving in. This is actually a 100% improvement over my stay in Santa Cruz, where I lived for 9 months without ever getting around to unpacking. I'm working up to interior decorating.
My holdings include this vast tract of freshly cleared floorland.
Clothes live in my dresser instead of anywhere but. (And, behind, in my closet, more clothes and worldly posessions are stored neatly instead of blockading it!)
OK, some still linger on my "window seat", but limiting the clothesprawl to one tiny horizontal space is impressive in my book. (Note the garbage bag hung out of reach of hungry bears. By which I mean Crouton.)
The many drawers, nooks, and crannies in my beautiful roll top desk are finally being put to use. My papers and finances, in order? Yes, there may have been some unpaid parking tickets uncovered in the process. Ouch.
Ok, the books just might have been the first thing I unpacked. But booksprawl is a worse affliction than clothesprawl these days, an occupational hazard. It has been contained for the moment. Further outbreaks imminenent. Quarantine recommended. Am I still talking?
The bed is usually the first victim claimed by clothesprawl, booksprawl, and electronicsprawl. (At least it's the one area of the house rarely under the threat of dogsprawl.) No more!
My proudest achievement? I put together a whole storage rack. It only took me the ENTIRE run of Star Trek IV (Yes, the one with the whales. The best part? How I work in the town Uhuru and Chekov went to steal photons to repair the crappy Klingon dilithium crystal! There's this whole scene where they keep asking "Can you direct us to the naval base in Alameda? It's where they keep the nuclear wessels." Of course, these days the naval base has more wholesome uses. Like a brand new mall. And, as of last week, the world's largest chalk drawing. But I digress.)
Isn't she a beaut? Just what every girl needs, overflow kitchen storage. Especially for her jam and jammaking paraphernalia.
Of course the ensuing week was a little crazy and all horizontal surfaces were lost again. But it just took a couple of hours and The Manchurian Candidate to fix things right up. Breaking Away took care of the laundry. Next week I'll be screening The Sword and the Stone and Sugar and Spice. Mmmm... alliterative cinematic genius.