September 15th, 2002

101 packed boxes, standing on the floor...

Actually I think we're up to 142 now - and we're pretty much out of boxes. Time to get some more tomorrow.

On the plus side, pretty much all of the books are now packed. There's maybe three boxes of non-fiction left to do, mostly college maths books, and I dare say we'll find some strays as we go.

One of the places from which we bought boxes had a pack of 30 which was supposed to be appropriate for a 3/4 bedroom house. Ha, I say to you; ha. I know most people don't have as much junk as we do - stop laughing at the back - but really... especially since some of that 30 are teachest-size and thus you can't pack heavy stuff in them.

When we called to confirm the removal quote, the woman in the office read back the list of what the estimator had noted down, and there was a silence on the end of the line. "Problem?" I asked. "That can't possibly be right..." she said. "Ah, that would be the figure for books, would it? It probably is right..." "101 boxes?!" "Sounds fair..."

A friend of mine, many years back, had an ... unfortunate incident ... at her house which meant that she lost pretty much all of her books. The insurance company refused to believe she had as many as she said, and that was something like one and a half bookcases full. Um. Maybe we should finish cataloguing the damn things.

While we packed ornaments this evening, we watched Legally Blonde. Not bad, moderately amusing, but I agree with the beloved that Working Girl did much the same only better.

Tomorrow is another day - at least I get out of packing, as Spanish class restarts in the evening. Better go and get my, er, books together.

On the longevity of Crème de Menthe

Oh yeah, the party. Wasn't bad at all, though trying to get to the venue concerned by public transport was moderately hellish so we didn't actually get there until about 2130. It gave us a chance to offload some of those half-bottles of weird shit that always seem to be found at the back of the drinks cabinet, too - we're pretty sure some of them had moved with us when we moved last. Er, that was nine years ago, but Crème de Menthe doesn't go off... does it?

I sometimes miss my undergraduate days when all of the parties were in the same town and therefore transport was less of an issue. No worrying about designated drivers, no need for taxis ... well, not a lot of need for taxis. Several occasions when "drunk in charge of a bike" might have been an issue - but there was usually the option of crashing on someone else's floor. These days, I admit, I'm a sucker for sleeping in a real bed. Shut up at the back; my own bed, for preference :)