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Yup, that’s me- circa 1996

It’s not every day that you hear the words, “You’re going to be single until you get rid of the dead Christmas tree on your balcony!”

It was the Spring of 2007 (I’ll get to why I still had my tree in a minute- no judgment please!). The Indianapolis Colts had recently won the Superbowl, The Departed had just snagged the Oscar for best picture and I’d just been dumped. Hard. On. My. Ass. So, I did what any self-respecting dumpee would do. I called in a professional. No, not that kind. I already had Liz on retainer for all my psychological needs. I called a Feng Shui expert.

When Los Angeles Feng Shui expert Jayme Barrett got to my condo, she looked around, made some notes and gave me several suggestions of what to do to bring new energy and love into my home. Everything was going along swimmingly until she walked out onto my balcony and gasped. “What. Is. That?” she said, as if she’d stumbled upon a dead body rather than a dead Christmas tree.

“Oh that? I haven’t gotten around to dumping it. Work’s been really busy,” I said nonchalantly.

“It’s April!” she exclaimed, her eyes growing wider.

“Um, I know…there was just no way I could get that out of here on my own. I’m five floors up,” I stammered, knowing how pathetic I sounded.

“Well my dear, that dead Christmas tree is in the love corner of your home. And you’ll never meet a man until you get rid of that.”

Cue “oh sh*t” expression on my face.

Faster than you can say match.com, 1-800-Got-Junk was knocking on my door and hauling away everything from that dead tree to dozens of garbage bags full of, well, junk. I cleaned my house from top to bottom, bought new furniture (and a new bed- for obvious reasons!) and Feng Shui’d the shizat out of things just the way my expert had told me to. I’d never felt better. And four months later, I met my future husband-proving to all those who had made fun of me that this Feng shui sh*t was no joke!

Cut to this past weekend. Six months after I schmoved, okay, moved to the Midwest. The fabulous wedding was over and I finally decided to unpack and sort through everything I’d carted down Route 66. Consulting my trusty Feng Shui book, Feng Shui Your Life I decided to de-clutter and clear away any negative energy that might be looming. Matt and I rolled up our sleeves (yes, the man jumped in!) and worked non-stop for two days clearing, hauling, organizing and Good Will-ing just about anything that crossed out path.

But the thing about Feng-Shui-ing is that you have to let go of everything and anything you absolutely do not need, brings you a bad memory, causes you any stress in any way. You have to PURGE. And I’m not a hanger-on-er at all, but I still had stuff that I looked at and said WTF am I still doing with that? Like my never worn “wide belt” that Matt joked looked like something I’d put on before entering my first WWE wrestling tournament. Or the binder full of articles about the Toyger “designer” cat I came dangerously close to buying. (Long story!)

But my biggest WTF moments came when I sifted through my pictures. There’s just something about old photos. I cannot throw them out. And why should I? Don’t I need something to dissuade me the next time I’m thinking about cutting my hair like Ellen DeGeneres and bleaching it blonde? (It was fashion-forward at the time, I swear!) Or what about when Matt (and I) are trying to cut “unnecessary” expenses from our budget? Just one glance at my pre-waxed brows will keep my monthly appointment with Tatiana on the list. So, Feng Shui Land, I may have finally given up my collection of eighties hoop earrings, but you’ll never get me to give up the pictures of me wearing them! And, c’mon, you can see why I hang on to old photos like these, right? Give a girl a break. Maybe she just wants to feel a little better about herself now.

xoxo, Lisa

Um, I had the look before Ellen!

As if dying it brown was going to make it better…

Ha! Guess I got Liz on the short hair bandwagon…(Sorry, Liz!)

Tagged as: 1-800-Got Junk, Ellen DeGeneres, Feng Shui, Indianapolis Colts, The Departed, WWE

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