Sep. 7th, 2008

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The house declutterization is going well, cum diligentia. (And as soon as I finish my tea, I will be going there again for more-of-the-same.) I think it should be ready to show for next Sunday. Hey, by the way, does anyone want STUFF? We have a lot of STUFF which will otherwise be gotten rid of in as expeditious a manner possible. Books, furniture, supplies, just random STUFF. Let me know if you want any STUFF and we'll see if we can help you.

I now have a Bitchin' Pimpmobile. It's a '93 Buick Century, but it looks like it rolled right out of, I dunno, 1978. And the interior is pristine (and deep cherry red), enhancing the pimptastic feel. Steve gave me first pick of which car to have, and it was probably unwise to choose this one, but it tickles my fancy. It has a very smooth ride--not performance handling, no, but predictable--and it's amazingly spacious, particularly the trunk. It also did yeoman's service in yesterday's post-hurricane weather.

Took a break from PACK PACK PACK PACK last night as [livejournal.com profile] nedlnthred had gotten us tickets to the Big Event of Montclair (!) this week, to wit the Amanti Vino Pig Roast. The food was excellent, the wine was amazing, and the historic house was droolworthy. Afterwards, we met up with Beth's friend Donna and a bunch of her friends at a local pub about two blocks away. I am getting the first glimmers of that whole Being The Only Non-Parent At The Table And They Talk About Their Kids Constantly discomfort that she spoke of when she was dating J. They all did seem like lovely people, I hasten to add. But the convo kept drifting back to offspring-comparisons. Yerk.

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