Lloyd Dobler: The rain on my car is a baptism, the new me, Ice Man, Power Lloyd, my assault on the world begins now.

This morning's workout consisted of me going back and forth from the car up to the apartment to load up the rest of the things I cleaned out on my Power Carie assault on the closet. This is not fun to do in the pouring rain, but it had to be done today. It's been sitting in my office on the massage table for weeks. After mercilessly removing things that I had been holding onto for too long, the Ice Queen in me was sick of looking at it. I went through it once last time last night, putting stuff in bags and labelling, held on to a couple more pieces that I think I can make work, but still getting rid of a good half of the shit in my closets and drawers. I finally tried on the stuff I ordered (as a reward for cleaning up and cleaning out) and decided to return about half of it, keeping a few key pieces that will replace some of the stuff I got rid of (i.e.: 5 ill-filling skirts gone, one fabulous dark pencil skirt IN). The new haircut, the new clothes and bras that actually fit, the new me is READY - like Donna Summer said "I'M COMING OUT!"

I wondered to myself on the way back from lunch if the events of my life and the natural occurances that happen around me are just coincidences or symbols of a much bigger picture out there. The rain falling and cleaning out the sky after I do this closet cleaning. The butterflies and dragonflies flitting around me whenever I think of my Mom. The wasp hive that appeared when I started thinking about my job and career. Is the natural world trying to tell me something? Is there a much bigger picture out there? Is there a connection? Or am I just using my neuralplasticity to reinforce a pattern of thinking that agrees with my belief system? When it comes down to it, don't we all?

I went through Mom's stuff when I was in El Paso. One morning I woke up a little too early and couldn't get back to sleep, we had talked about taking care of it when I was home so I figured, why the hell not? I know that none of the clothes would fit me, and my mom and I didn't like the same fabrics, anyway - I'm more of a cotton, no iron kind of girl and mom was all about the dry cleaning fabrics. My feet have grown and so her shoes would not fit, even the few pair I liked. I also found out from a very religious cousin that you are not supposed to wear the shoes of a dead person because you don't want to "follow in their footsteps" - makes sense. So that leaves all the fabulous purses. My Sister and I are going to leave them there until we have to do something different.