Junk in Your Trunk

Still Life with Banana, Purse and Change © Justine Reyes

The magnets on the fridge have come down, the blond wig–long awaiting that special occasion that never seemed to arrive–has been sent home with a pal, and the last little coffee mug has been carefully housed in bubble wrap. The walls now bare, the floors darn near close to naked, and the couch looking for a home still sits alone and unwanted by the users of Craigslist. And me? Well, I am trying not to let the echo freak me the hell out.

The simple mathematical equation is that shit just gets done if you begin chipping away at it. And the truth of the matter is, the more boxes that get packed, the easier it becomes to just give it all away. Thank the gods of Out of the Closet and the Salvation Army for their undiscriminating taste. NOTHING FEELS BETTER THAN UNLOADING AN ENTIRE CAR in front of one of those charitable establishments. There is an upside to moving after all and that is the process of clearing out. Because let's face it, who in their right mind would be able to let go of this much hard-earned JUNK, if it didn't mean lifting it all not once but twice?

I move in a few days, ladies and gentleman, and though the story is not an uncommon one, it is the only one today that I have to tell. Oh, there are other things...the exciting world of determining 150 students' grades in 3 days. The ensuing graduation I get to attend in cap and gown. And the large check I will soon be cutting to my new landlord.

The Things She Carried (and Can't Seem to Get Rid of)

Marcel Duchamp's Fountain

1. The industrial mop bucket. This was a real Craigslist coup when originally found, but has, let's face it, rarely been seen in action. The industrial mop bucket comes in rubber-ducky-yellow, and sports a fashionable wringer to boot. This would make any janitor's day! But I can't seem to find any takers.
2. My giant TV. I no longer really want this and it has the extra added bonus as being heavy as hell. But I will give it to you for free, my friends, and even help you to the car. Were I to need another TV in the future, I hope it could be one of those lighter, flatter models. Until then, ye old You Tubes will have to suffice.
3. Wooden bookshelves not from Ikea. For some reason when I put it like that, this seems to scare people away instead of pique their interest. Not from Ikea was meant to imply made by hand, with genuine wood, and no assembly needed, but no one yet has been able to read between those lines.
4. Free bbq. Ok that one went pretty quickly. Turns out it is the season for free bbqs.
5. Charcoal gray couch. This is a couch with great bone structure not unlike some of our favoured actors (George Clooney comes to mind), but has succombed to the weight of my dog who has become quite taken with the right side of this couch. That being said, I think it is only the cushion that needs a bit of a cosmetic lift. Ladies and gentleman, this was once a very chic in that mid-century kind of way piece of furniture. And for 20 bucks, and some TLC, you could revive it's now faded career.

Boxes

Joseph Cornell: Box with Bird's Nest and Oak Galls

And so the joyous task of packing up all my shit, sifting through the detritus of yet another failed relationship, and cramming a 2200 square foot loft's worth of furniture into a 2 bedroom shared apartment begins. And what will keep Casey sane, besides referring to herself in the third person, a healthy dose of self-deprecating wit, and that nice little bottle of pinot?? The simple fact that sometimes, a step in any direction is better than no step at all.

Today I gave away 2 of my favorite aluminum porch chairs for the simple fact that I will no longer be having a porch; I found a home for the bin of composting earthworms because, let's face it, that relationship was not the chummiest; and I boxed and sealed the very last of his stuff, conveniently stashed out of sight under the stairs for the last fours months. And though I have no idea who will actually help me lift the furniture, nor exactly how many bookshelves will have to be let go on the street corner, I am, little by little, coming to terms with the fact that I am actually leaving this space. This space in which I have spread my wings and made my own and loved so dearly much during a time when things have been so very hard. And, bit by bit, with each new box stacked on top of the next, I am becoming okay with that.

So onward brave little soldier. There comes a time for all of us when we have each in our own way–as one of my favorite writers limns–come through slaughter.

An unsolicted letter to the hetero men folks of ________Dating Site

Photo/Sculpture by Heidi Johansen

Dear Hetero Menfolks,

I have a confession to make. I have not updated my profile in over five years. After the recent breakup with my last boyfriend, I simply turned my profile back on. In fact, I had no idea I still had a profile and I will confess again that I haven't even bothered to read what I last wrote. But I can safely imagine that who I was then, and the tone I was hoping to project, is now quite different from the woman I have become. Chalk it up to most likely not being ready to take dating seriously again, and I think you can cut me some slack.

But that's not what this letter is about. This letter is to politely inform you, the hetero men folk of my age bracket, how you are coming off to me en masse when I breeze through your profiles.

First of all, why is it okay for you to be upwards of 40 and yet, be seeking a woman of no more than 35 years of age? You know what, it's humiliating enough to to sift through this site, open oneself up to consideration, and possible rejection, without having to add insult to injury by making me constantly feel like shit. It's fine for one or two of you to seek woman 5-15 years your junior, but all of you? Really?

Second of all. Take better pictures of yourself! No blurry photos, no photos so teeny nor obscure they require a forensics team to decipher, no photos with other people clearly cropped out, no photos that were you at an obviously much younger age. Be honest with yourself, and most of all, be honest with me. Take the time to take a picture of yourself that celebrates who you are in as flattering a light as possible.

Third of all, run your profile by a friend. Everyone loved the sex scene in Secretary. But stand out you don't. We all need oxygen. We all think humor is the bestest, and athleticism is preferred to, oh, couch potato-ness, but as they say in Screenwriting 101: show, don't tell. I think we will get it. I know us hetero women, in bulk, have our cosas. We want a man taller than us. We all have read Eat, Pray, Love and are proud to announce it. But I have to say the women folk seem to be working a little harder here at crafting something with a little more, uh, attention to detail.

I guess what I am just saying to each of us is, read what the other men/women you are in league with are writing, compare and contrast, put a little elbow grease into it, and, at the bare minimum, run it by a friend. Let's make this a teachable moment.

Sincerely,
Not-so-ready-to-be-here-again Casey