Packed

The days, I mean. It's getting down to the last few weeks and I'm running out of free time -- scheduling all kinds of things trying to see everybody before I leave. There is a lot of cocktailing in my immediate future, some of it with you! I'm indulging in bourbon now because it's expensive in Thailand.

Vodka is too, now that I think of it. "Waiter -- martini!" (If you didn't catch the reference, that's what Mrs. Robinson barks at the bartender just before she hauls Benjamin up to her hotel room.) (She was wearing leopard-print panties.) (I'm just saying.)

It's 1517 in military time, and I have the afternoon to myself. Is it too early for a drinkie? All this talk of Mrs. Robinson makes me thirsty.

I would have been busy cleaning out the old apartment today -- thank you, Jeremy, for coming over to help! -- but Brian (the landlord) called to tell me he was sending a crew in to paint, etc. and they would clean the joint up. I'm sure I kissed my deposit goodbye when I agreed to that plan, but hell -- it's worth it. Jeremy and I went for waffles instead. And really, my deposit was as good as gone anyway because I didn't finish chipping the gold paint off the bathroom floor -- oops. Household tip: never paint tile, especially if it is old and original, no matter how ghastly the color or condition, unless you want your all-invested-in-period-restoration landlord to cry.

But back to the question at hand: to vodka tonic or not to vodka tonic? I am meeting some of you at the Florida Room at 630, so if I start now I'll be three hours into it by the time I see you -- and that's too much. *sigh* If only you were here, too, we could just throw caution to the wind and go to the Florida Room NOW!!

Queen of the Free Pile

Huzzah, I'm finally packed!! I squished my life into about 14 boxes and you wouldn't BELIEVE the piles of stuff I got rid of. Furniture, shoes, boots, clothes, linens, kitchen accouterments, office supplies, plants, watercolor paper, and a pair of purple bell bottoms with beads. Remind me why I needed those?

I am the Queen of the Free Pile. I kept amending the sign near the mailboxes in my building. "Just added!" and then a list. "Going fast!" and then a list. "Last day!" and then a list. People have been swarming. I met so many of my neighbors in this experience it's sort of a shame I'm going to move away. It's wonderful that so much material is being recycled/reused/repurposed, though. Most of it came from Goodwill anyway, so I feel like I have at least one free pass to not recycle a yogurt cup or something.

About halfway through packing, for about a minute, I considered simply abandoning EVERYTHING. Will I ever come back for this stuff? Will I be glad to see it if I do? Will I just look at it and wonder what the hell I was thinking? I guess we'll see.

My party is planned -- if you didn't get an email or Facebook invitation maybe we need to be introduced, because I think I invited EVERYBODY. Still, things happen -- for the record, it's July 17 at Amy's and then the Goodfoot. Call me for details.

Stacy is having a closet purge tomorrow and it's KILLING me -- the timing is all wrong! I can't amass more crap now, I just got rid of several tons of it! But I covet her shoes.......I am going to another continent with only nine pair of shoes, have I mentioned this??

Oh, and another thing -- summer is here and everything is getting better, just in time to make me feel sad about leaving. Sabina started walking, the sun is out, JP is about to break ground on his gorgeous new house in Hood River -- I'm starting to think about what I'm going to miss. You, of course, are at the top of the list.

Peak and freak

See this pile?

This is everything I need for a year in Bangkok. It has to fit into three suitcases, one of which is tiny-carry-on size. I'm a little panicked about the adjustments to the space/time continuum that will need to be made in order to make this happen. The laws of physics will be severely bent, if not exactly broken. Tears will no doubt be shed.

I have only nine pair of shoes. Eight brassieres. Three yoga pants. Three suits, but the cherry-colored one might not make the final cut. It's lovely but kinda warm. I'll have to get by with one bag -- goodbye, shiny black Moschino split calf. See you next summer, bone leather Anne Klein satchel. I'll miss you, navy blue Coach. And you, sweet orange-and-gold Cole Haan -- goodbye.

Today I had the unsettling experience of getting on the roller coaster of nostalgia and hysteria -- known by the more flamboyant of our male brethren as the Peak and Freak. Alternating between Hair-On-Fire and Boo-Hoo is no way to spend a day. So what did I do? I'm the daughter of a socialite -- I made a drink and put on more lipstick.

I am also, thank god, the daughter of an engineer, so after I had a Sustaining Beverage I got out my drill and fixed the back of a piece of furniture that needed some love. Thus fortified with the confidence that I can, indeed, do anything, I started throwing stuff onto the bed to see exactly how much I would have to carry to Asia. And then I took a picture of it. And now we all know the facts on the ground, and can proceed to use our spatial reasoning skills to get us out of this overstuffed mess.

Jesus christ on a pony

I am out of vodka and I can't find my black balconette, which, for all of you wondering, is my favorite kind of bra. It's largely Courtenay's fault. If she hadn't ordered Tater Tots I wouldn't have gotten so thirsty and needed so many cocktails.

My house is a mess! I move out of here Sunday! I have an event on Saturday! I need more boxes! My hair's on fire!

Just remember, darlings: "When in danger or in doubt/Run in circles, scream and shout!" Works for me.

omg

How the hell am I going to get EVERYTHING I NEED for a year into three suitcases? I've been in denial. Looking at them and then looking at even just my hair products make me clammy. Put the elephant into the Volkswagen. I'm afraid it's not going to work.

Shipping isn't an option -- 50 pounds = $250. I would want to ship only those things worth $5 a pound or more. Hm....broken down like that it doesn't seem so extravagant. I definitely have shoes worth $5 a pound to me.

When I was a little girl I was fascinated by the pioneers and the Oregon Trail stories. About 20 years ago I stood just south of Canada somewhere in the top part of Montana, and in front of me on the ground lay the remains of a homestead. Just the outline, really, of a tiny little house, and some rusty bits and a lot of broken glass. I remember being overcome thinking of the courage it must have taken to throw EVERYTHING YOU NEED into a wagon and head west. God knows I am doing nothing so brave -- Bangkok isn't the frontier, after all -- but I can't help thinking about those women as I make lists of what I need.

Of course, they needed stuff to stay alive. I need hair color and one good cocktail dress and what if we get invited to a gala should I bring a gown? You see the inherent difference. Survival vs. fabulous. Why am I not comforted??

Counting

I'm not much for counting down, but I can't help but notice that I have less than 40 days left in Portland. omg -- so much still to do.

I spent all Monday making phone calls and figuring out things like how much luggage I can take with me and how to plug my Mac into Thailand's 220 without blowing up my computer. Interesting point: the baggage policy posted on Delta Airlines' web site bears only the most passing resemblance to their ACTUAL baggage allowance policy. Those bastards. And they are not even embarrassed, they just admit they haven't updated their web site. It's criminal what they get away with.

Last Sunday I rode in the Rose Festival Parade with Mayor Sam Adams' people. It was freezing, and in my hood-up parka and sunglasses I looked like the Unibomber. Seriously. The saving grace is that I am absolutely unrecognizable in all the photos.

This coming Sunday I'm riding in the Gay Pride Parade with the same group. This time I'm wearing a frothy prom gown (over fleece -- I learned my lesson) and hoping I can develop a system for keeping it out of the bike works before I have a tragic televised accident. No reasonable suggestion ignored.

Pretty sure Pride will conclude my Parade career in PDX. Not sure what any of it has to do with moving to BKK. It's my blog, though, and it's early and I'm wishing I could go back to sleep and if I want to ramble about parades, which I don't even enjoy, who is going to tackle me? Who would tackle me anyway? I used to have a t-shirt that said, "I'm as mean as I look." Must make a note to replace it.

Today I have an event at a water treatment plant in Durham. I'm not even joking. It's a glamorous life. To think I'm leaving it all behind.

So far

Here's a picture of what I've done so far. You're looking at what used to be the living room, and is now largely a pile of things that I've decided belong to other people -- with a few boxes of my own crap waiting to go into storage. 

I've put literally hundreds of pounds of stuff into the hallway outside my apartment, all neatly stacked against the wall under post-it notes identifying each stack. You know how I am.

Last week, when this started in earnest, I hung a sign above the mailboxes downstairs, inviting the neighbors to shop at my free garage sale. They have taken me up on it in droves. It makes me happy to think of all my stuff starting new lives in other places.

It makes me extra happy to see how little I am keeping. It makes me feel light in the universe to know that I own very little, and even that could go, too, and I'd be fine. I've experienced this before -- once you start getting rid of things you gain momentum until you no longer have to work to part with items and instead must remind yourself why you should keep them....um, except for shoes. 

I'm having a very difficult time coming to terms with the fact that I can't take ALL my shoes to Asia. It's especially challenging because I know I won't be able to buy shoes there -- Thai women are wee, and so are their feet, and and mine are not -- you see my dilemma. What if I take the WRONG pair of leopard shoes? Not that there's any such thing, really.