Wednesday, December 27, 2006

My Closet, Myself ...

It's that time of year again. That time of year when I get the itch to get my ducks in a row, thinking that somehow, if my house is orderly, my life will be, too.

Today's chore: tackle my office's walk-in closet. Now, you might be thinking that offices don't have walk-in closets, and you'd be right. But in this house's past life, the room that is now my office was going to be a master bath. No, I am not siting on a toilet as I write this. The plumbing is roughed in behind the walls, but everything is capped off. And so the closet was an actual closet for clothes and shoes and the like. The family room had been converted into a bedroom (with a fireplace - nice!) but it's not my master bedroom. And the would-be master bathroom is not my master bathroom, it's my office.

So today, I started hauling stuff out of the closet and assessing. It felt good to create a purge pile. Trash pick-up is tomorrow, so out the curb it went. I didn't get rid of as much as I hoped, but things are much more organized in there now, and it willl be easier to sort through things for successive rounds of purging. As my friend Joanne once noted, you can get rid of just about anything by putting it in a black plastic garbage bag.

And as I sifted and sorted, I made a list. I generally think that those organization shows on TLC and Discovery and such are absurd. No one is going to morph from pack rat to neatnik. They might keep everything that neat and tidy for a few days, but old habits die hard. Still, I've become a big, big fan of baskets. I use them to organize all sorts of things. And my current list features not only baskets but magazine storage thingees and photo boxes. The time is nigh to replace the worn Williams-Sonoma bag that's held my photo envelopes all these years. Oh, and I need a new desk blotter calendar. Love the desk blotter calendar.

But there must be something to this feng shui thing, because now, walking into my closet is like walking into heaven. And I don't even believe in heaven. But that's another blog entry for another time. I almost want to spend time in my closet, just to behold the organization, the space that I've freed up.

Several things are at the curb tonight, among them a box of demo tapes from my would-be voiceover days. At this point, if I ever pursue voiceovers again, I'd need CDs. Unless I could just sent mp3 files to everyone. But cassettes? They're practically antiques. And I'd put my one-time agent's name and number on a lot of them. She wanted to put me on her house reel and then quickly reneged on her offer, based on my first-ever audition for her, for which I sucked eggs. In my defense, I'll point out that it was my first-ever audition, and I'll also point out that this woman had no idea what she was doing. She had trouble using the recording equipment, and when her daughter came in to help and asked what was wrong, the woman said, in a very loud stage whisper, "She's not any good!"

Way to boost my confidence, lady! Um, I was good enough to turn in a demo that made you want to sign me immediately. Gee, you think maybe *you* contributed to the bad audition?

Ah, but that's long behind me. Creating the demo demonstrated to me that what I really want to do is sing, but speaking is much less terrifying than singing.

So it's time to put that phase behind me. I kept some of my "unmarked" demos. Not sure why. Maybe they'll be kitschy party favors at my album-release party. Maybe I'm not ready to face the fact that I didn't make it as a voiceover talent. Maybe I'm not ready to throw out the end result of cost me a small fortune. Who knows. But my Spidey sense told me to hold on to some, so hold on to them I shall.

For now.


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