Deaccession

Who uses it: Museum curators and librarians
What it means: Formal removal of an item from a collection
How you can use it: When getting rid of things.

I'm staying with my friend and former housemate, Megan, in the house we used to share. When I moved to Los Angeles in 1999, I left a lot of things here I thought I'd never want again -- old books, a set of crystal beer mugs, miscellaneous kitchen items, and some furniture.

Seven years later, many of those things are still here, since Megan found them useful (or at least not inconvenient to have around). It's a little disconcerting to encounter them again. I've felt mildly nostalgic about a couple of them -- the massive Family Medicine book I used to consult during bouts of hypochondria, or the box of Old Bay seasoning that is surely no good anymore -- but in all honesty, I haven't missed any of these things. Leaving things behind is almost always the right decision.

First five songs off the iPod Shuffle this morning:

"Release Me," Esther Phillips. I think this version (1962) predates Ray Charles'. It has that 1950s orchestral arrangement, with a full backing choir, horns and strings.

"All I Could Do Was Cry," Etta James. Take it from me and Etta: don't go to your old boyfriend's wedding.

"Stood Up," John Hiatt. John Hiatt's declaration of his knighthood of faith, standing up for love even when it kicks your butt. We should all be so brave.

"Water Ban," The Pernice Brothers. A wistful, lovely pop song off a great album (Yours, Mine, Ours).

"Ants Marching," Dave Matthews Band. Have you seen the previews for that new animated movie Ant Bully? It looks dreadful. I may have to revise my longstanding policy of seeing Paul Giamatti in anything.