The Beauty of Cleaning the Hall Closet

With a little more time on my hands, I'm getting a lot done. Besides sending out resumes and responding to recruiters that seem to think I'd be a "perfect fit to sell insurance in the Western Suburbs!" that is.

I decided I'd first make a long to-do list of all of the projects that I have been putting off for some time now. Then, I drew little boxes next to each task, with the expressed purpose of celebrating each achievement as I finished said task, with a large black X next to the line completed.

It has been rewarding to see the progress. I feel productive! Accomplished! Sadly, OCD and happy about it!

Today's tasks included reorganizing my hall closet, which meant a sweaty trip to the upstairs storage unit dragging a wobbly luggage cart with two huge Rubbermaid bins of summer clothes up to the cage that is dedicated to my excess junk.

It also meant re-filing all my files into a fancy new plastic two-drawer storage bin.

Additionally, it meant putting away all of the knick-knacks from my office that were in banker's boxes.

And, finally, it meant going through the old costume bin I have been saving, adding to and laughing at over the years. In one spot, nestled in the back of the hall closet, sat the aforementioned haven for old outfits used for costume parties, Halloween affairs and other events that required me to be someone else.

Apparently, my personal history of costuming has been quite eclectic. I found the following items, in no particular order:

• a handmade fringed 1920s flapper outfit complete with garter belt, feathered headband, pink satin elbow length satin gloves, a plastic tommy gun and an enormous pink/purple 4' feather boa


• a cowboy denim shirt and a matching cowboy hat


• a leprechaun hat, green belt, green plaid butterfly-collared shirt, a shamrock sash and coordinating shamrock jewelry of the blinking and non-blinking design


• a red plaid Hugh Hefner robe, a set of pink satin pajamas, white/pink fuzzy slippers, a plastic diamond, fake boobs and a purse dog


• a dress made of a Twister board, a spinner hat, red fishnet hose and white go-go boot covers


• a hard hat from the inaugural season of Atlanta's Philips Arena


• an authentic Atlanta Hawks with the number 00 and my last name stitched on the back


• a smashed margarita-sticky straw hat


• 19 Mardi Gras beaded necklaces, 7 plastic blinking bracelets, 1 random red feather boa and 1 pair of plastic Devil horns


• a Boy Scout camp shirt, a reflective vest, white gloves, a stop sign and a City of Chicago police hat


• and, a red shoulder length wig, a long curly blonde wig and a ratty chin-length black bob wig.

For the record, I did try on most items today, and had a good laugh at myself as I did. Wigs and all. The itchy head and sticking-up-hair was worth every minute.

The XXXtra large plastic boobs (circa Anna Nicole Smith, pre-death) were a tad busted, forgive the pun, and I put them secretly in the hallway recycling bin. They're plastic! I'm pretty sure I will have given a neighboring old lady a heart attack when she spots body parts in with the newspapers and aluminum cans.

The various costume items I have chucked out in the last few years also include a full satin prisoner outfit with metal handcuffs and a dorky little hat; a head-to-toe camouflage outfit including orange wristbands and a fake rifle; a 60s mod dress with coordinating 6" headband and white gloves; and a hooker-like outfit that I just don't want to explain.

I'm either a Halloween buff, a reformed sorority girl or a grandma in the making. All of the above, quite possibly? I will have one mean dress-up-clothes trunk by the time I'm 80.

*Photos and full details of this year's Halloween party to come next week. No hints on what I'm going to be...you'll just have to wait patiently. Pass the candy corn, please.

It's Friday and I'm in Love (with Target)

I have taken the day off today from work, solely to accomplish those personal to-do list items that you rarely get to when the weekend hits. And, the traffic to maneuver this city is so much better on a Friday than mid-day chaos on a Saturday.

I spent 2 hours (and way too much money) at Target this morning. I think I touched at least one item on every rack, and scanned each aisle, just in case. People stared at me because I was just so, well, happy. Just to be there. I'm fairly sure that one store shouldn't bring someone so much pleasure. Even the pouring rain and heavy bags couldn't damper my mood.

So, while you twitter away the last few working hours of the week, I'm off to cross things off my to-do list, begin the four loads of laundry staring at me, affix the wheels to my spanking new granny cart and switch out the seasonal wardrobes.

Before you go picturing me standing in a Gap-sized organized closet with remote controlled moving racks, please know that this process is more like this: grab the Rubbermaid totes from the creepy storage unit upstairs, unload the cute spring and summer clothes I forgot I owned, drag them back up filled with sweaters and boots, and pray the whole way down that the weather won't turn nasty again.

Because I just can't handle snow in May. Or, another trip to the storage unit before October.

Oooh! I just spotted my flip flops! A gift from God, especially after a winter where we got 75 days of snow.

Safety Precaution

For the record, if you're out of the washing fluid that goes into your Swiffer Wet Jet, don't go getting all inventive and try to use Pledge instead. It makes your wooden floors as slippery as a politician in October.

In a moment of weak desperation and creative housecleaning, I did it while preparing for guests this weekend, and I've damn near killed myself nine times since then. I would really hate for my death notice in the paper to read:

Single 31-year Old Woman Found Dead in Kitchen at Midnight—Holding a Mangled Fancy Chocolate Bar and Wearing Ratty Pajamas

I'm just saying. Consider yourself warned.