Everything must go. Somewhere.

Anybody in the US want my copies of the Duet (Fraser/Kowalski) zines? They really ought to belong to someone who will not leave them sitting on the DVD shelf for four years and then go, "Huh. I... still own these." I will happily mail them to anyone willing to give them a good home, cheap as free. Zines rehomed!

Also, lease on the new apartment starts tomorrow (although Actual Moving does not happen until Friday). I've boxed up the last of the books and all the DVDs. Tomorrow's To Do list includes such items as "couch shopping" and "assemble shelves at new apartment" and "pack everything that can be packed".

And yet, what is it that I find myself carefully bracing myself for, and developing meticulous strategies for handling, emotionally? Yeah. Rereading Mary Doria Russell's The Sparrow for the first time since I was in high school. (It's my book group's book for April, and we meet on the 9th. I will read pretty much anything for my book group, and I actually have been curious to read it again and see if the impact is anything like the same now that I'm not sixteen and Catholic.)

But seriously, I'm really scared.

Sando::::::::::::z.

;_______;