Organizing Another Apartment

Poor Elena is sick and trying to organize her apartment. It's interesting watching her do this. She was brutally willing to throw out all my stuff that she didn't think I needed, but not her own stuff that I think she doesn't need. :-) And, again we are fighting the toss vs. donate battles. She had a pile of old Chatelaine magazines (like Cosmo in Canada) dating back to who knows when (I saw one from 2001) and rather than recycle them, she wanted to donate them to the library because, apparently, they are still readable (in the sense that the ink still forms letters). I've been buying Le Point and L'Express for weeks now, folding them in half to carry in pockets everywhere I go, underlining the words I don't know and putting a dot next to each line I read. And will she let me toss them into the recycle bin? No--they are still "readable" so before we go, there is going to be a mortal battle to the death. If she is the last one standing, we'll "donate" these to the library (the library will recycle them anyway if they don't want them), and if I am the last one standing, they will go into the paper recycling bin of Elena's apartment building.

And why does Elena get to "organize" where I had to "move"? It's because Elena has a house-sitter. She is keeping her place. I certainly don't blame her. The location is ideal. Only 2 blocks from Robson Street in the West End. The hot chick per square meter gradient points to Robson and Thurlow. And she's a knight's jump away from that hot babe ground zero. Of course, that feature of her location doesn't factor into her desire to live here, it factors into mine.