Isn't everyone's favorite part of moving purging your life of the crap bogging you down? I feel like every time that I have moved, it's a toss-half/keep-half sort of battle. I wonder if I've kept more than I've donated or thrown? Hard to say, but I think it's close call.
It's nice to be a part of a move that doesn't really require you to do a whole lot. Today, we all spent a lot of time cleaning and looting through our desk affects. Personally, I like the little green martian that sits on my computer. I like my stiletto turned tape dispenser. I like my supply of G2 pens. But everything else? It can go. I'm not tied to it or interested in keeping it for our new space. I like to think I'll find something equally worthless and perfectly charming when we're all settled in to the new location this spring.
Amidst the looting, however, my friend Colleen discovered a little gem.
Why, yes, that is a tiny sailboat with two baby dolls aboard! Look at the detail in the sail! I've always wanted a knick-knack as terrifying as this! Imagine our unbridled joy when we discovered the dolls were removable!
I promise: in person, they're even creepier than you hoped. They have pupils, you guys. PUPILS.
Naturally, I was elated to find such a creepy little pair of goblins. Still, sitting in a boat seemed a little boring. There's got to be something more interesting to be done with these guys, right?
So, Colleen and I got to thinking about the best ways to make these little cretins even more frightening than they already are. We considered staging an elaborate scene. Maybe one of them could be throwing the other overboard just as a shark--a stapler with a taped on fin--swam by with hunger in his eyes. Or what if they were dancing outdoors when a meteor--a crumpled mass of rejected manuscripts--blasted them into oblivion.
But that sounded like a lot of work. Instead, we did what anyone else would have done:
We made jewelry.