I just opened one of the 21 boxes of stuff that I shipped to myself when I moved down here last year. It turns out it's got all of my favorite T-shirts in it (Chroma Key, Habit Forming, Tourniquet, Gwar, Lost In Thought, Strapping Young Lad, &c). Most of my clothes came down here via Parcel Post, since they weren't fragile or anything, but I shipped this smaller box via Priority Mail, because it was the stuff I knew I wouldn't want to wait two to four weeks to have; I'd want it right away.

Funny, then, that it sat unnoticed next to my room for over a year before I thought to open it. It really highlights the way my choice of clothes has evolved since I started working full-time.

The unfortunate part, though, is that these clothes were dirty when I shipped them down here.

This morning I was eating a pack of Cottage Doubles, and it tasted a little weird. I thought of checking the expiration date, but it didn't really taste that odd — it could have been all in my head — and I knew that if I checked, and it was even a single day past its expiration date, I wouldn't be able to finish it, even though I knew in my head it was perfectly fine. So I kept my eyes fixed straight on the TV until I had finished eating it, and then turned it over to check. It turns out it expired about two weeks ago. Hmm. Curdled Milk 1, Dan 0.