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| Judith (Cat Go-Go-Dancer, me, the skeery (barefoot wtf?) lion, Georgia the Mummy, Leslie the football player (with our salad bowl on her head) |
Friday, October 31, 2014
Hallowe'en, 1967 - from the Way Back Machine
Wednesday, October 29, 2014
♫ Kick it real good ♪
From a story in People magazine (cracker-jack reporting you know):
"In a gruesome scene seemingly straight out of a Halloween horror movie, a man beheaded his mother Tuesday night, dragged her body out of her Long Island, New York, apartment, and kicked her severed head down the street before jumping to his death in front of a moving train."
OH MY GOD hahahahahahaha Y'ALL SERIOUSLY.
Kicked. Her severed head. DOWN THE STREET.
Remember my story about how I used to make sure I stepped on every crack, every line, and chanted that rhyme about 'step on a crack, break your father's back' etc"? yeah.
How jealous are you of this guy right now. Well, I mean besides the facts that 1. he was 35 and still living with that whore and 2. he was driven so bat-crap crazy by this bitch that he committed suicide, so was unable to celebrate even 5 fucking minutes of freedom.
But other than that? yeah.
"Derek Ward, 35, killed his mother Patricia, a 66-year-old professor, and then committed suicide, according to the Associated Press. He had a history of psychiatric problems."
She was a professor. Imagine the magnitude of her narcissism.
Yes, yes - it's possible that I am taking this the wrong way. But there are gabillions of commenters on that story taking it the OBVIOUS direction. I think we all know there is a big possibility that the plot MAY be direct from the Narc Playbook.
Here's to you, Derek Ward. Here's a beer in heaven for you. I hope there's a hammock and large breasted women there too (or muscly men, if that's what you're into). I'm just sorry it took you so long, and that it took your life too.
"In a gruesome scene seemingly straight out of a Halloween horror movie, a man beheaded his mother Tuesday night, dragged her body out of her Long Island, New York, apartment, and kicked her severed head down the street before jumping to his death in front of a moving train."
OH MY GOD hahahahahahaha Y'ALL SERIOUSLY.
Kicked. Her severed head. DOWN THE STREET.
Remember my story about how I used to make sure I stepped on every crack, every line, and chanted that rhyme about 'step on a crack, break your father's back' etc"? yeah.
How jealous are you of this guy right now. Well, I mean besides the facts that 1. he was 35 and still living with that whore and 2. he was driven so bat-crap crazy by this bitch that he committed suicide, so was unable to celebrate even 5 fucking minutes of freedom.
But other than that? yeah.
"Derek Ward, 35, killed his mother Patricia, a 66-year-old professor, and then committed suicide, according to the Associated Press. He had a history of psychiatric problems."
She was a professor. Imagine the magnitude of her narcissism.
Yes, yes - it's possible that I am taking this the wrong way. But there are gabillions of commenters on that story taking it the OBVIOUS direction. I think we all know there is a big possibility that the plot MAY be direct from the Narc Playbook.
Here's to you, Derek Ward. Here's a beer in heaven for you. I hope there's a hammock and large breasted women there too (or muscly men, if that's what you're into). I'm just sorry it took you so long, and that it took your life too.
Monday, October 27, 2014
Vision Quest
Today it finally feels like summer may be over. I don't like summer. The relentless sunshine cloudless days here in San Diego make me crazy. Yes yes, I know - summer is what everyone dreams about. But people, really - San Diego is a city IN THE DESERT. It happens to be right on the ocean, sure. But so is Tijuana, just to our south. 'near' is also relative - I'm a few miles inland, and I can't smell the ocean, can't hardly see it unless I pay for parking somewhere (during the crazy summer months).
It's hot and DIRTY and dry and dusty, altho this summer was a little more humid than we've had in a while. Being right on the river made that a little worse. That river barely moves.
Look - there are some of you (yew hoo, Mulder! Hey TW!) who live in snow all the time (or a lot of the time) and i totally wouldn't like that either. But at this stage of the game of my life, I want to live in a coastal foggy town. Much like the fictitious Cabot Cove in 'Murder She Wrote' or any place like it - with ocean breezes and fog and rain and sunshine all mixed up.
Not to mention, this summer was very busy with me making all kinds of busy-ness. My niece visited a lot with her adorable kid, I spent time with Mike, we went places and did things. I also kicked off my Ebay again which is doing really well. But looking back it seems like it's been a very, very long time from May to now. VERY. LONG.
It's funny how you can let things slide - a little there, a little here, and pretty soon there is a mountain to climb or put back or whatever. I forgot to walk as often as I should. I forgot not to eat all the things in the world. So I have weight I need to lose (again, forever and ever amen) and feeling strong I need to get back to. I forgot to stay centered, to stay grounded. So there is a re-connection with nature, and with my soul, that needs to happen.
I forgot to dust and vacuum very often, so there is THAT I need to get back to.
Fall always feels like a time of renewal for me, much like Spring does for other people. I want to clean and wipe down everything - sweep and dust. Physical stuff like my house, physical stuff like my body, and mental/soul stuff too. I want to buy good shampoo and lotions and slather them on my skin. I want new dishes. I want to replace the tired worn out plants on my patio with new vibrant plants (those poor summer flowers are exhausted from 10 hours of relentless heat every day, all day. Ain't no petunia up for THAT.)
Along with that, we want to move. Again. And here's the funniest thing, really - it's more Jeff than me. And I'm the one with the gypsy soul. But our apartment - meh. We've been living here since we moved back from Maryland. The carpet wasn't new when we moved in, and is now so beat down... I mean, I do have an elderly dog who can't always wait for someone to come home and walk her down three flights of stairs. I've cleaned it and cleaned it, but it's builder-grade carpet anyway, and now the padding is coming up through the carpet when we vacuum.
The kitchen is a riot. A riot I tell you, of bad design topped with 'slap this counter top on nobody will notice'. The drawers and cupboards are the worst design I've ever been around. Luckily I have minimal pots/pans/dishes because there is honestly no place to put anything. The cupboard may be huge in the back, but the door to get into it is >tiny< so a bowl, even on its side, will not fit in there. The only thing in 90% of my kitchen cupboard real estate is long lost tupperware lids. It's not great. Under the sink smells of MOLD and they have half-assed the repair but again, meh. The entire apartment complex was built in the 70's. Which - either take me back to the 50's or bump me up to modern times, but the only thing good to come out of the 70's was some rock & roll music. Architecture CERTAINLY didn't make it.
So I'm at this crossroads right now in so many ways. I LOVE IT. I'm a fan of change. And this is why I love renting - Jeff is done with this apartment, so I get to find us someplace else. A different grocery store, a different neighborhood. Change is awesome.
I've been paying attention. To signs and directions - to the woo-woo. I've been listening to my inner intuition and being PRESENT, fully present, when outside. Everything is telling me to pay attention. I'm on a threshold, a change is happening, and if I want to have a hand in it, I need to be very present and very connected.
Lots of sea creatures have been making an appearance in my life. On TV or in books or when I've struggled down to the ocean for a walk - I'm surrounded by splooshy waves and sea birds and pelicans and pictures of octopus' (octopussies? WRONG) and this - this hit me so hard
Isn't she GORGEOUS? A wild mermaid - not one of those prissy little cartoon mermaids. But this one looks like I think a mermaid WOULD. Wild, self confident. With hair accessories from the sea. She has become my muse. I like this one too:
With her pearls and abalone bowl and fish bone comb. But the first one - OH my she is wonderful.
I have always wanted to live near(er) the ocean, the sea. I would love to live near crashing waves and rocks and sea birds calling and the smell of salt water and fog. But here in San Diego, I may not get all of that, lol. I may not get any of it. But if we need to move, I'm going to create my reality as fiercely as I can. I even made a vision board this time <--I'm a goon. But I needed to concentrate, I needed to focus. All of this sea shore stuff is telling me IT'S POSSIBLE. But I need to focus.
(right now this seems silly that I am focusing this hard on a new apartment. Like, why not world peace or mouthwash that actually tastes good? *shrug* I want to live at the beach)
Here are pieces of my vision board:
I found all those images in my internet searches. Those are not photos of anyplace I've seen. But I'm looking. Concentrating. Paying attention. It will all fall down to practicalities you know - price. But I'm hoping for an in-law unit or detached cottage, possibly (as in the first photo) a small old apartment complex.
I LOVE that I have a focus right now. Something to think on, to try for. And here is the thing about the "Law of Attraction" or the power of positive thinking or "The Secret" or any of that crap. YES - a vision board is a good start. (so is the rabbit hole that is Pinterest jeebus).
But you also need to do the work. From cleaning and sorting the house I'm in now, to budgeting and paying off as much debt as I can right now, to driving to neighborhoods and parking and WALKING MANY BLOCKS looking and getting the feel for it, searching - it takes actual physical work to make 'magik' happen. You have to put the intention out there with as much power as you can - which is why a physical vision board is good. You are working with your hands, creating and gluing and dreaming and thinking and concentrating all your energy into it. It's potent, like prayer or candles. It's your mental focus. Here is mine:
It looks a little like a craft store threw up on it, but in person it looks way neat-o. So you focus, and you ask your higher powers for help - and then you get your ass out of the way and start doing what YOU can to create that reality over here, on this side of the curtain. While the gods and goddesses you've prayed to, implored for help, while they get to work on THEIR side of the curtain, lining up luck and intuition and magik.
And your OTHER job, the biggest one - pay attention. Be present. Be aware and open.
We'll see how far I get in the Housing Quest.
P.S. this works with ANY THING. If you want to picture your life as peaceful - as quiet, and calm, and happy family (you and spouse/partner and children) and productive - you can do it to. Create your own PHYSICAL (not online) vision board. Talk to your partner, your kids - yourself. Find your key words, find pictures that are evocative of the feeling you are searching for. Talk to your higher power. Use your head and VISUALIZE a peaceful day, a backyard, a camping trip, morning coffee on the porch... Spin it (spiders have been very big in my world lately too! telling me to SPIN MY WORLD, get busy!) create it as real as you can in your head. Concentrate on it. It will involve change, sometimes BIG change - but you will find it, your heart's desire. YOU CAN DO IT.
It's hot and DIRTY and dry and dusty, altho this summer was a little more humid than we've had in a while. Being right on the river made that a little worse. That river barely moves.
Look - there are some of you (yew hoo, Mulder! Hey TW!) who live in snow all the time (or a lot of the time) and i totally wouldn't like that either. But at this stage of the game of my life, I want to live in a coastal foggy town. Much like the fictitious Cabot Cove in 'Murder She Wrote' or any place like it - with ocean breezes and fog and rain and sunshine all mixed up.
Not to mention, this summer was very busy with me making all kinds of busy-ness. My niece visited a lot with her adorable kid, I spent time with Mike, we went places and did things. I also kicked off my Ebay again which is doing really well. But looking back it seems like it's been a very, very long time from May to now. VERY. LONG.
It's funny how you can let things slide - a little there, a little here, and pretty soon there is a mountain to climb or put back or whatever. I forgot to walk as often as I should. I forgot not to eat all the things in the world. So I have weight I need to lose (again, forever and ever amen) and feeling strong I need to get back to. I forgot to stay centered, to stay grounded. So there is a re-connection with nature, and with my soul, that needs to happen.
I forgot to dust and vacuum very often, so there is THAT I need to get back to.
Fall always feels like a time of renewal for me, much like Spring does for other people. I want to clean and wipe down everything - sweep and dust. Physical stuff like my house, physical stuff like my body, and mental/soul stuff too. I want to buy good shampoo and lotions and slather them on my skin. I want new dishes. I want to replace the tired worn out plants on my patio with new vibrant plants (those poor summer flowers are exhausted from 10 hours of relentless heat every day, all day. Ain't no petunia up for THAT.)
Along with that, we want to move. Again. And here's the funniest thing, really - it's more Jeff than me. And I'm the one with the gypsy soul. But our apartment - meh. We've been living here since we moved back from Maryland. The carpet wasn't new when we moved in, and is now so beat down... I mean, I do have an elderly dog who can't always wait for someone to come home and walk her down three flights of stairs. I've cleaned it and cleaned it, but it's builder-grade carpet anyway, and now the padding is coming up through the carpet when we vacuum.
The kitchen is a riot. A riot I tell you, of bad design topped with 'slap this counter top on nobody will notice'. The drawers and cupboards are the worst design I've ever been around. Luckily I have minimal pots/pans/dishes because there is honestly no place to put anything. The cupboard may be huge in the back, but the door to get into it is >tiny< so a bowl, even on its side, will not fit in there. The only thing in 90% of my kitchen cupboard real estate is long lost tupperware lids. It's not great. Under the sink smells of MOLD and they have half-assed the repair but again, meh. The entire apartment complex was built in the 70's. Which - either take me back to the 50's or bump me up to modern times, but the only thing good to come out of the 70's was some rock & roll music. Architecture CERTAINLY didn't make it.
So I'm at this crossroads right now in so many ways. I LOVE IT. I'm a fan of change. And this is why I love renting - Jeff is done with this apartment, so I get to find us someplace else. A different grocery store, a different neighborhood. Change is awesome.
I've been paying attention. To signs and directions - to the woo-woo. I've been listening to my inner intuition and being PRESENT, fully present, when outside. Everything is telling me to pay attention. I'm on a threshold, a change is happening, and if I want to have a hand in it, I need to be very present and very connected.
Lots of sea creatures have been making an appearance in my life. On TV or in books or when I've struggled down to the ocean for a walk - I'm surrounded by splooshy waves and sea birds and pelicans and pictures of octopus' (octopussies? WRONG) and this - this hit me so hard
Isn't she GORGEOUS? A wild mermaid - not one of those prissy little cartoon mermaids. But this one looks like I think a mermaid WOULD. Wild, self confident. With hair accessories from the sea. She has become my muse. I like this one too:
With her pearls and abalone bowl and fish bone comb. But the first one - OH my she is wonderful.
I have always wanted to live near(er) the ocean, the sea. I would love to live near crashing waves and rocks and sea birds calling and the smell of salt water and fog. But here in San Diego, I may not get all of that, lol. I may not get any of it. But if we need to move, I'm going to create my reality as fiercely as I can. I even made a vision board this time <--I'm a goon. But I needed to concentrate, I needed to focus. All of this sea shore stuff is telling me IT'S POSSIBLE. But I need to focus.
(right now this seems silly that I am focusing this hard on a new apartment. Like, why not world peace or mouthwash that actually tastes good? *shrug* I want to live at the beach)
Here are pieces of my vision board:
I found all those images in my internet searches. Those are not photos of anyplace I've seen. But I'm looking. Concentrating. Paying attention. It will all fall down to practicalities you know - price. But I'm hoping for an in-law unit or detached cottage, possibly (as in the first photo) a small old apartment complex.
I LOVE that I have a focus right now. Something to think on, to try for. And here is the thing about the "Law of Attraction" or the power of positive thinking or "The Secret" or any of that crap. YES - a vision board is a good start. (so is the rabbit hole that is Pinterest jeebus).
But you also need to do the work. From cleaning and sorting the house I'm in now, to budgeting and paying off as much debt as I can right now, to driving to neighborhoods and parking and WALKING MANY BLOCKS looking and getting the feel for it, searching - it takes actual physical work to make 'magik' happen. You have to put the intention out there with as much power as you can - which is why a physical vision board is good. You are working with your hands, creating and gluing and dreaming and thinking and concentrating all your energy into it. It's potent, like prayer or candles. It's your mental focus. Here is mine:
It looks a little like a craft store threw up on it, but in person it looks way neat-o. So you focus, and you ask your higher powers for help - and then you get your ass out of the way and start doing what YOU can to create that reality over here, on this side of the curtain. While the gods and goddesses you've prayed to, implored for help, while they get to work on THEIR side of the curtain, lining up luck and intuition and magik.
And your OTHER job, the biggest one - pay attention. Be present. Be aware and open.
We'll see how far I get in the Housing Quest.
P.S. this works with ANY THING. If you want to picture your life as peaceful - as quiet, and calm, and happy family (you and spouse/partner and children) and productive - you can do it to. Create your own PHYSICAL (not online) vision board. Talk to your partner, your kids - yourself. Find your key words, find pictures that are evocative of the feeling you are searching for. Talk to your higher power. Use your head and VISUALIZE a peaceful day, a backyard, a camping trip, morning coffee on the porch... Spin it (spiders have been very big in my world lately too! telling me to SPIN MY WORLD, get busy!) create it as real as you can in your head. Concentrate on it. It will involve change, sometimes BIG change - but you will find it, your heart's desire. YOU CAN DO IT.
Friday, October 10, 2014
My bar is pretty damned low, actually
Is there a limit to The Hustle? Is there a hustling LOW you won't go to? Because I have not found that low, not really. And I have ABSOLUTELY gone to a new Hustling Low...
A friend of mine (K) her husband died about a year ago. She is finally ready to part with his clothes and stuff. She asked me did I want them, as 'there is a ton of stuff with the tags still on! you could totally sell it on Ebay and make money!' - While I thought that might be true for a few pieces MAYBE, like some NFL jerseys or whatever, I knew the couple and know where they shop. They shop for new stuff where I shop if I want new stuff - Old Navy, Kohls, etc. That stuff doesn't exactly bring in the bucks.
HOWEVER
I knew I needed to get that stuff out of her house for her, and she wasn't going to be able to do it. Just LOOKING at something her husband owned/used/talked about brings her to tears still. An entire closet of his clothes was going to be beyond her abilities. So I drove out to her house and spent a couple hours cleaning out his closet.
They are smokers. And he was kind of a clothes hoarder. The closet was packed, jam packed - and oddly there were completely greasy, filthy clothes hung up with the other stuff. (he was a mechanic, hence the grease) I have no idea why dirty stuff was hung up, but there ya go. Grief makes you nuts. So I hauled it all out by the armload to the living room so that she could sort through it - she found a couple of 'keeps' and wanted me to take the rest. And by 'the rest', I mean HOLY CRAP. I made her take out the hangers and throw them away, nobody EVER needs that many fucking hangers I'm not kidding. I was very bossy but sometimes you need a push - she threw them all away at least. And that lowered the mass of the pile somewhat. (I made her throw out all his shoes too - I could've given them to the homeless but I could not stand the smell of so many used shoes GAG) OH I forgot my trunk was full of my recycling so all this crap had to go in my back seat. HUSTLE.
I threw away every dirty/paint stained/greasy/torn item, and that lowered the mass of the pile a hair. What I was left with was this:
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I forgot to mention - on top of the fact that they are smokers, being a clothes hoarder - some of that stuff hadn't seen the light of day since 2004 (there were tags) or possibly the 90's (based on style) and the collars, shoulders and exposed arms of all shirts were coated in a sticky yellow coating of gunk, dust, and nicotine. Not to mention they hung stuff up that was worn/filthy MY CAR SMELLED SO BAD.
This was a labor of love, did I mention?
Since I was meeting EP France at Mission Bay for a walk, I just went ahead and drove straight there. I knew where there was a dumpster in a fairly big parking lot (safety first) and I parked, put in my headphones, and started sorting.
I folded everything I wasn't keeping and stacked it pile after pile next to the dumpster area - I knew there were plenty of homeless around that place and they always need clothes. Winter in San Diego is still not pleasant, at night, in the river bed, with bugs and rats *shudder*. After my 3rd trip I turned around and saw this:
My neat stacks on the right, outside the dumpster area - trying to keep them OUT of the nastiness. Homeless sorting through it all on TOP of the dumpsters. They were polite and thanked me - they were also speeeedy high and a little fuh-REEKY but *shrug* they appreciated the clothes.
**that dumpster was full of fish parts from the people who fish in the bay. To say that dumpster smelled is an understatement. THEY STOOD ON TOP OF IT FOR OVER AN HOUR I don't think they noticed the cigarette smell on the clothes, amiright?**
As I kept sorting, they started coming to my car for armloads. They thought some of this stuff was AWESOME. I was keeping some, in a pile - there WERE a few good pieces. One of those pieces was a suede Chargers (San Diego NFL team) jacket. Looked a lot like this
But not new. Also not as cool as this one. PLUS the one I had ahold of needed to be cleaned very badly which means dry cleaning. Then selling it on Ebay - shipping costs will kill you if you arent careful, and while this thing wasn't really all that heavy it was bulky and would have required a pretty big box. My profit margin was going to be about $10 the way I figured it.
Here's my Hustling Low Point --> The guy in that picture (in the tank top) wanted that jacket VERY badly, wanted me to sell it to him. We were all old pals by this time (har) and I kept telling him NO! You don't have money for this shit you need to get a motel room (that was their plan). I tossed my 'keep' pile into my car and started to drive off. He rode his bike after me and stopped me and shoved a $20 bill at me. Said he could re-sell that jacket for $60. I TOOK THE MONEY and gave him the jacket and said 'good luck' and drove off.
Now - a truly KIND person wouldn't have taken the money. I tried like hell to talk him out of it. I had just given them more clothes than the 3 of them could carry. He was really insistent on getting that damned jacket. *shrug* okie dokie artichokie. Here ya go.
Because you know what? He wanted to hustle that jacket and I'm hustling too. That's how you do it.
Here's some other things I want to tell you, the collective YOU:
What YOU think something is worth? Sorry, but it's bullshit. Whether its your grandmother's china or a diamond ring or Pokemon cards (MIKE) or clothes with the tags still on, stuff is worth maybe 1/10th of what you think it is. Nobody on earth will pay you for 'sentimental value'. Do not save things thinking they will fund your retirement. Baseball cards or sports memorabilia? If you do not have the COA that goes with the picture/ball/signed jersey it is worth dirt. Boxed dolls, toys, books, all that crap - make sure you look it up with a detached analytical mind. Find out what people are actually BUYING it for, not what some website is selling it for. Stuff that is truly worth money and will appreciate in value is worth keeping in a nice place. Honor your good investments by keeping them safe, clean, and neat. Hoarding it in falling down piles and dusty stacks is disrespectful of the value and YOUR SPACE.
That smell in old people's houses that makes you gag? That's the smell of books/papers that have been sitting around, and the smell of clothes that haven't been washed. PLEASE people. For the love of all things holy - wash those cardigan sweaters, those hoodies, those ball caps you wear outside to get the mail or whatever. You think it's not dirty! You think it's a jacket how bad could it be? it's bad. Sweat happens more than you think. Dead skin cells are dead skin cells. I would say wash all that crap, PLUS the blankets on your couch, at least once a month. For coats that can't be washed, please just toss them in the dryer on low with a damp wash cloth and a dryer sheet. My parent's house smelled like a thrift store - so does Jeff's parent's house. Does yours? Would you know? My own wonderful special snowflake of a husband wears his button-down shirts 2 or 3 times between washings which is not optimal. Sometimes I just take everything out of his closet and wash it because I can't stand when my house even remotely smells like my parent's house.
I also have been known to open the closet doors and turn a fan on and let it air out.
Spray febreeze or whatever in your shoes once in a while. Throw out your flip flops every year and spend the damned $10 for new, your sweaty feet will thank you - and your whole house will smell better. Get your carpets cleaned every year, every 6 months if you can. Usually for $40 someone will come in and do two rooms - that's a hell of a deal, even when you tip the guy $10 cash (because you should always tip). Wash your dogs. Put a scoop of dishwasher (dry stuff) down your garbage disposal and pour in some vinegar. LET IT SIT. then run water and run the disposal.
Don't hang out near a dumpster full of dead fish. <--best advice I can give you, actually.
A friend of mine (K) her husband died about a year ago. She is finally ready to part with his clothes and stuff. She asked me did I want them, as 'there is a ton of stuff with the tags still on! you could totally sell it on Ebay and make money!' - While I thought that might be true for a few pieces MAYBE, like some NFL jerseys or whatever, I knew the couple and know where they shop. They shop for new stuff where I shop if I want new stuff - Old Navy, Kohls, etc. That stuff doesn't exactly bring in the bucks.
HOWEVER
I knew I needed to get that stuff out of her house for her, and she wasn't going to be able to do it. Just LOOKING at something her husband owned/used/talked about brings her to tears still. An entire closet of his clothes was going to be beyond her abilities. So I drove out to her house and spent a couple hours cleaning out his closet.
They are smokers. And he was kind of a clothes hoarder. The closet was packed, jam packed - and oddly there were completely greasy, filthy clothes hung up with the other stuff. (he was a mechanic, hence the grease) I have no idea why dirty stuff was hung up, but there ya go. Grief makes you nuts. So I hauled it all out by the armload to the living room so that she could sort through it - she found a couple of 'keeps' and wanted me to take the rest. And by 'the rest', I mean HOLY CRAP. I made her take out the hangers and throw them away, nobody EVER needs that many fucking hangers I'm not kidding. I was very bossy but sometimes you need a push - she threw them all away at least. And that lowered the mass of the pile somewhat. (I made her throw out all his shoes too - I could've given them to the homeless but I could not stand the smell of so many used shoes GAG) OH I forgot my trunk was full of my recycling so all this crap had to go in my back seat. HUSTLE.
I threw away every dirty/paint stained/greasy/torn item, and that lowered the mass of the pile a hair. What I was left with was this:
This was a labor of love, did I mention?
Since I was meeting EP France at Mission Bay for a walk, I just went ahead and drove straight there. I knew where there was a dumpster in a fairly big parking lot (safety first) and I parked, put in my headphones, and started sorting.
I folded everything I wasn't keeping and stacked it pile after pile next to the dumpster area - I knew there were plenty of homeless around that place and they always need clothes. Winter in San Diego is still not pleasant, at night, in the river bed, with bugs and rats *shudder*. After my 3rd trip I turned around and saw this:
My neat stacks on the right, outside the dumpster area - trying to keep them OUT of the nastiness. Homeless sorting through it all on TOP of the dumpsters. They were polite and thanked me - they were also speeeedy high and a little fuh-REEKY but *shrug* they appreciated the clothes.
**that dumpster was full of fish parts from the people who fish in the bay. To say that dumpster smelled is an understatement. THEY STOOD ON TOP OF IT FOR OVER AN HOUR I don't think they noticed the cigarette smell on the clothes, amiright?**
As I kept sorting, they started coming to my car for armloads. They thought some of this stuff was AWESOME. I was keeping some, in a pile - there WERE a few good pieces. One of those pieces was a suede Chargers (San Diego NFL team) jacket. Looked a lot like this
Here's my Hustling Low Point --> The guy in that picture (in the tank top) wanted that jacket VERY badly, wanted me to sell it to him. We were all old pals by this time (har) and I kept telling him NO! You don't have money for this shit you need to get a motel room (that was their plan). I tossed my 'keep' pile into my car and started to drive off. He rode his bike after me and stopped me and shoved a $20 bill at me. Said he could re-sell that jacket for $60. I TOOK THE MONEY and gave him the jacket and said 'good luck' and drove off.
Now - a truly KIND person wouldn't have taken the money. I tried like hell to talk him out of it. I had just given them more clothes than the 3 of them could carry. He was really insistent on getting that damned jacket. *shrug* okie dokie artichokie. Here ya go.
Because you know what? He wanted to hustle that jacket and I'm hustling too. That's how you do it.
Here's some other things I want to tell you, the collective YOU:
What YOU think something is worth? Sorry, but it's bullshit. Whether its your grandmother's china or a diamond ring or Pokemon cards (MIKE) or clothes with the tags still on, stuff is worth maybe 1/10th of what you think it is. Nobody on earth will pay you for 'sentimental value'. Do not save things thinking they will fund your retirement. Baseball cards or sports memorabilia? If you do not have the COA that goes with the picture/ball/signed jersey it is worth dirt. Boxed dolls, toys, books, all that crap - make sure you look it up with a detached analytical mind. Find out what people are actually BUYING it for, not what some website is selling it for. Stuff that is truly worth money and will appreciate in value is worth keeping in a nice place. Honor your good investments by keeping them safe, clean, and neat. Hoarding it in falling down piles and dusty stacks is disrespectful of the value and YOUR SPACE.
That smell in old people's houses that makes you gag? That's the smell of books/papers that have been sitting around, and the smell of clothes that haven't been washed. PLEASE people. For the love of all things holy - wash those cardigan sweaters, those hoodies, those ball caps you wear outside to get the mail or whatever. You think it's not dirty! You think it's a jacket how bad could it be? it's bad. Sweat happens more than you think. Dead skin cells are dead skin cells. I would say wash all that crap, PLUS the blankets on your couch, at least once a month. For coats that can't be washed, please just toss them in the dryer on low with a damp wash cloth and a dryer sheet. My parent's house smelled like a thrift store - so does Jeff's parent's house. Does yours? Would you know? My own wonderful special snowflake of a husband wears his button-down shirts 2 or 3 times between washings which is not optimal. Sometimes I just take everything out of his closet and wash it because I can't stand when my house even remotely smells like my parent's house.
I also have been known to open the closet doors and turn a fan on and let it air out.
Spray febreeze or whatever in your shoes once in a while. Throw out your flip flops every year and spend the damned $10 for new, your sweaty feet will thank you - and your whole house will smell better. Get your carpets cleaned every year, every 6 months if you can. Usually for $40 someone will come in and do two rooms - that's a hell of a deal, even when you tip the guy $10 cash (because you should always tip). Wash your dogs. Put a scoop of dishwasher (dry stuff) down your garbage disposal and pour in some vinegar. LET IT SIT. then run water and run the disposal.
Don't hang out near a dumpster full of dead fish. <--best advice I can give you, actually.
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
Hustle yo' Bustle
[36 days sober]
 |
“Contrariwise,' continued Tweedledee, 'if it was so, it might be; and if it were so, it would be; but as it isn't, it ain't. That's logic.” |
I followed the Ebay advice I have read, about starting and ending auctions on a Sunday evening. ALL DAY Sunday my phone was making that 'cha-CHING' noise like a cash register (the Ebay app on the phone) - each time someone would bid on an item it would go off. It was THRILLING, lol. I had a no-name, no-tag shirt for sale, listed it as 'pirate renaissance steampunk costume piece' and started the auction at $3.95 - Here is a pic:
Just a cheap-o little blouse but I knew costume time is upon us. That damned acetate top got 13 bids! Finally sold for $19.66 (included shipping).
I sold 7 items on Sunday. I have a ton more up, and people are already 'watching' them. One item already has a bid.
Yesterday I went back to Am Vets, I needed to list more things. I found 12 items - grand total was $20.60. So I paid $1.72 for each item. One is a Ralph Lauren denim rancher jacket with a corduroy collar, I will list it for $49.95 and see what happens. I may have to lower the price on that one, but since IT IS FREE to list things, it's no skin off my nose to lower the price $5 and relist it, even if I have to do that a coupla times. The rest of the stuff I bought is basic bread & butter stuff I can sell for $10 - $12 each.
MY POINT - if anyone out there needs a side-hustle - you need money to start paying down your debt, stash a little in savings and begin the journey to a cash-only life, this is a way to do that.
IF you want to factor in things like MY TIME and LABOR and all of that, no - emphatically NO it does not pay anywhere near what a 'real' job pays. But for me, it's all profit. I LIKE going to thrift stores, I LIKE doing laundry (folding it and putting it away is another story). I do this from home. I am making a damned profit.
I noticed at the AmVets yesterday they now take EBT. Which is Electronic Benefit Transfer - an ATM style card that welfare and WIC and other state benefits are paid on. And see - I think this is amazing news. Firstly, because people on government assistance need clothes and shoes for themselves and their kids. And secondly - if you are on government assistance and need a side hustle, this is the perfect way to purchase stuff to sell on Ebay. (I am not going to entertain a discussion on welfare, who should receive (many people really do need it, many people really do scam the system), how many damned kids you should be allowed to have, why aren't people on assistance required to work at government buildings like courthouses and such sweeping AT LEAST if they can stand and move, etc. So let's not even go there, ok?)
All the personal finance blogs I have read really push the idea of the 'side hustle' and I completely agree. Selling crap you already have that you don't need? Perfect place to start. But creating a niche for myself has been the ultimate. I try to only sell stuff people are really willing to buy - some brands I find and sell:
Ralph Lauren (all associated lables, like Polo, LRL, etc. I've never found the elusive PURPLE label)
Ann Taylor (and LOFT)
Tony Hawk
Lane Bryant/Venezia
Casual Corner
Quacker Factory <--this brand sells all the damned time.
L.L. Bean
Lands End
Chico's
Talbot's
Tommy Hilfiger
Eddie Bauer
American Eagle Outfitters
Abercrombie & Fitch
And on and on and on
*(p.s. I found a sweatshirt that said 'Property of the Betty Ford Clinic' and I almost bought it to wear because I think I'm funny like that, but the back had footprints? and 'on and on and on' on it which is an AA saying maybe? and since I wanted to wear it IRONICALLY (even tho I really AM sober) I left it for someone who would get a good karmic lift out of it. BUT I WANTED IT.)*
Each one of those brands up there, you have heard of them - I find them DAILY at thrift stores, and they will sell for at least $10, each item. Depending on what it is, and what size it is, I usually get $12 to $20 for each item. These days I will only spend under $2 for any item to sell, unless it is such an amazing deal (like that Vera Bradley backpack for $5) that I can't pass it up. I am always muttering 'as close to a buck as I can, as close to a buck as I can' while I'm looking at a thrift. I fit right in with the bat-crap crazy people that wander around in those stores.
If anyone is truly interested in hustling at a thrift store for building a cash savings account or for, you know, paying the electric bill, let me know in the comments and I will expound on it - I don't want to bore y'all. I know most people have jobs, paycheck-jobs, and have no time for this nonsense. It's labor intensive but to me it's worth it.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
ON ANOTHER NOTE - people all over the place are talking about how, astrologically speaking, we are in another 'Mercury Retrograde' period, which is a time when most people experience complete cluster fucks in their lives. Electronics fizzle, tires go flat, cars wont start, keys and wallets get lost - just all kinds of screwy static-y things, mostly to do with communication and electronics. ME? Because I live in opposite land, I have THE BEST LUCK during a retrograde period.
My side hustle is BOOMING right now - I'm finding great items whenever I thrift. Jeff and I are in some kind of fluffy wonderful place right now. The tire that has a gigantic screw embedded in it, that I fixed with fix-a-flat? STILL FULL OF AIR and I'm not replacing that until I have to. I'm still not drinking and *shhh* it's been - uh, while not EASY, it hasn't been HARD either. I'm walking 3 miles daily and back on only protein and I've dropped 5 pounds (with only a gabillion to go) ~ I just think it's funny how opposite I am. I need a shirt that says 'Contrariwise' on it. I'd buy that and wear it, you betcha.
Thursday, October 2, 2014
A fishy tale
(1 month 1 day no drinky)
Perfect example.
I was just back from a 2 mile walk today, hot and sweaty and about to get down to listing more stuff on my Ebay page. Doorbell rings.
There's a young guy standing there in nice pants and a button up shirt and a tie, offering carpet cleaning for free to show off an amazing new way to clean carpets. I know a sales pitch when I see one, but I am ALWAYS up for getting my carpets clean. They weren't new when we moved in here 2 years ago, and I have one elderly dog who thinks of the 'go pee outside' rule as more of a suggestion these days - my carpets always smell of either 1. dog pee, or, after I clean it up, 2. Lysol and vinegar. Neither one is really very pleasant, as you can imagine. Not so soothing, like jasmine or magnolia...
I DO however know nothing is free - and the kid leaves to go get his equipment (and change his clothes, I'm thinking) and I tuck $20 into my pocket because Imma tip this kid even if he doesn't charge me, which I'm also thinking he is going to do. I need clean carpet tho, and I'm ready. I push around my living room furniture and doorbell rings again.
THIS TIME it's 2 of them, and they are carrying a bunch of boxes that say KIRBY VACUUM. (Hello, I've been KIRBY'D for fucks sakes- is this a joke? no - no it is not). The second guy is maybe 10 years older than the first one. Immediately, I say out loud, exclamations in my voice, 'TELL ME you aren't selling me Kirby vacuums! My DAD used to sell Kirby's back in the day!"
[this part is very true. We had a vacuum, not the one we used every day, but a relic from his sales days and it looked an awful lot like this:
it was HEAVY and I never used it - he sold vacuums in the 50's before I was born - one of MANY traveling sales jobs he took including LIFE INSURANCE because the phrase 'does not play well with others' could've been coined for my dad, he could not work in an office with other people. He called women 'GALS' for chrissakes]
So second guy leaves. First kid - his name is Jessie, he's 19. My father had a sister named Jesse. (different spelling). This kid looks exactly like Mike's best friend from the Corps - Matt used to come over to our house and spend weekends when they were both stationed at Pendleton. When they got back from Afghanistan, his whole family came to a barbecue that we put on. So this kid Jessie, he looks like a Marine - has the haircut, no shit. they call it a 'high and tight' - short on the sides, a bit spikier on top. During the demo (he's vacuuming my house, it's fabulous) he tells me he tried to join the Corps, wanted to VERY BADLY but was turned down for respiratory issues. Mike was released (medically discharged) from the Corps for asthma, respiratory issues.
So, let's review.
Coincidences:
1. Kirby sales. My dad sold Kirby's. Have you EVER had a vacuum salesman knock on your door? It's unusual, to say the least. First time in my life and I was raised in the 60's and 70's.
2. Jessie - my dad's sister who he was close to was named 'Jesse'. Only family member he talked about, actually.
3. Kid looks exactly like Mike's best friend in the Corps - it is so much alike they could be twins.
4. Kid wanted to be in the Corps, in fact at first I assumed he was possibly weekend warrior, but:
5. Denied due to respiratory issues, same reason Mike was (honorably medically) discharged.
Let's not forget I live in a gated APARTMENT complex, so 1. they shouldn't have gotten in and 2. I rent, I don't give a fuck about whether my carpets last a year or 6 months, they AREN'T MINE. Go sell to homeowners, maybe?
I cut the demo VERY short, pissed them both off but good, and had them leave. I wasn't going to spend $2,000 on a vacuum anyway, and the whole thing was weirding me out.
You go ahead. Tell me it's all coincidences. That it doesn't mean squat. I happen to not believe in coincidences. Not at the rate that they happen to ME. This is exactly the type of thing that happens to me almost DAILY. I hesitate to tell these stories because I know I sound like a paranoid freak - like someone who hears voices or seesghosts.Visions. (Not ghosts - Mulder senses ghosts, I've sensed them - so VISIONS)
But when you live with this shit every. fucking. day, it has a way of beating you down. Do I believe my dad sent those guys? lol - no. But, here's a theory for you:
what if evil does exist? What if it runs on its own wave length. It uses people - some who are prone to welcome real evil in (like narcs), and some who are just carriers but who aren't affected by it - like sharks and the remoras that hang around them.
People who are used like puppets by evil - used in order to create havoc and drama so that these entities that feed on negative emotions have food. Flying monkeys, anyone? I encounter BOTH kinds of evil a lot. Homeless people have remoras very often. They're so emotionally screwed up from their lives they don't even know they play host to these evil things. SOME homeless people ARE evil, they are hunters/predators. I'm only using homeless people as an example because I see both kinds very often. I imagine priests are another example of both kinds. Get my drift? Some people have swallowed and become evil, some people just drag it around like pig-pen and that cloud of filth around him. Evil chooses these puppets because they are easily manipulated into creating drama and distress, even if they don't make good host bodies.
I'm not afraid of this shit that happened today. I sincerely believe those kids were just hustling a buck. I've hustled MANY a side-job in my life, hello Ebay is only the most recent. [And if you ask me, those Kirby vacuums are totally awesome - if you're looking to spend $2,000 (it vacuums AND steam cleans!)] What I am is sort of discombobulated. Think how you would feel if someone *yoinked* you upside down! fast! then spun you right side up! BAM! You're safe - you're fine. But spinny and disoriented. That's how I feel right now. That's how I feel every single time this shit happens. So like twice a week, I guess. It's a creepy feeling. Jeff did not used to believe me. HE LIVES IT NOW. I attract weird shit. YOU tell me why, go ahead because I can't really figure it out.
All I wanted was clean carpet, and I got remoras.
(Yes yes, I know, no strangers in the house Mike yelled at me already)
Perfect example.
I was just back from a 2 mile walk today, hot and sweaty and about to get down to listing more stuff on my Ebay page. Doorbell rings.
There's a young guy standing there in nice pants and a button up shirt and a tie, offering carpet cleaning for free to show off an amazing new way to clean carpets. I know a sales pitch when I see one, but I am ALWAYS up for getting my carpets clean. They weren't new when we moved in here 2 years ago, and I have one elderly dog who thinks of the 'go pee outside' rule as more of a suggestion these days - my carpets always smell of either 1. dog pee, or, after I clean it up, 2. Lysol and vinegar. Neither one is really very pleasant, as you can imagine. Not so soothing, like jasmine or magnolia...
I DO however know nothing is free - and the kid leaves to go get his equipment (and change his clothes, I'm thinking) and I tuck $20 into my pocket because Imma tip this kid even if he doesn't charge me, which I'm also thinking he is going to do. I need clean carpet tho, and I'm ready. I push around my living room furniture and doorbell rings again.
THIS TIME it's 2 of them, and they are carrying a bunch of boxes that say KIRBY VACUUM. (Hello, I've been KIRBY'D for fucks sakes- is this a joke? no - no it is not). The second guy is maybe 10 years older than the first one. Immediately, I say out loud, exclamations in my voice, 'TELL ME you aren't selling me Kirby vacuums! My DAD used to sell Kirby's back in the day!"
[this part is very true. We had a vacuum, not the one we used every day, but a relic from his sales days and it looked an awful lot like this:
So second guy leaves. First kid - his name is Jessie, he's 19. My father had a sister named Jesse. (different spelling). This kid looks exactly like Mike's best friend from the Corps - Matt used to come over to our house and spend weekends when they were both stationed at Pendleton. When they got back from Afghanistan, his whole family came to a barbecue that we put on. So this kid Jessie, he looks like a Marine - has the haircut, no shit. they call it a 'high and tight' - short on the sides, a bit spikier on top. During the demo (he's vacuuming my house, it's fabulous) he tells me he tried to join the Corps, wanted to VERY BADLY but was turned down for respiratory issues. Mike was released (medically discharged) from the Corps for asthma, respiratory issues.
So, let's review.
Coincidences:
1. Kirby sales. My dad sold Kirby's. Have you EVER had a vacuum salesman knock on your door? It's unusual, to say the least. First time in my life and I was raised in the 60's and 70's.
2. Jessie - my dad's sister who he was close to was named 'Jesse'. Only family member he talked about, actually.
3. Kid looks exactly like Mike's best friend in the Corps - it is so much alike they could be twins.
4. Kid wanted to be in the Corps, in fact at first I assumed he was possibly weekend warrior, but:
5. Denied due to respiratory issues, same reason Mike was (honorably medically) discharged.
Let's not forget I live in a gated APARTMENT complex, so 1. they shouldn't have gotten in and 2. I rent, I don't give a fuck about whether my carpets last a year or 6 months, they AREN'T MINE. Go sell to homeowners, maybe?
I cut the demo VERY short, pissed them both off but good, and had them leave. I wasn't going to spend $2,000 on a vacuum anyway, and the whole thing was weirding me out.
You go ahead. Tell me it's all coincidences. That it doesn't mean squat. I happen to not believe in coincidences. Not at the rate that they happen to ME. This is exactly the type of thing that happens to me almost DAILY. I hesitate to tell these stories because I know I sound like a paranoid freak - like someone who hears voices or sees
But when you live with this shit every. fucking. day, it has a way of beating you down. Do I believe my dad sent those guys? lol - no. But, here's a theory for you:
what if evil does exist? What if it runs on its own wave length. It uses people - some who are prone to welcome real evil in (like narcs), and some who are just carriers but who aren't affected by it - like sharks and the remoras that hang around them.
People who are used like puppets by evil - used in order to create havoc and drama so that these entities that feed on negative emotions have food. Flying monkeys, anyone? I encounter BOTH kinds of evil a lot. Homeless people have remoras very often. They're so emotionally screwed up from their lives they don't even know they play host to these evil things. SOME homeless people ARE evil, they are hunters/predators. I'm only using homeless people as an example because I see both kinds very often. I imagine priests are another example of both kinds. Get my drift? Some people have swallowed and become evil, some people just drag it around like pig-pen and that cloud of filth around him. Evil chooses these puppets because they are easily manipulated into creating drama and distress, even if they don't make good host bodies.
I'm not afraid of this shit that happened today. I sincerely believe those kids were just hustling a buck. I've hustled MANY a side-job in my life, hello Ebay is only the most recent. [And if you ask me, those Kirby vacuums are totally awesome - if you're looking to spend $2,000 (it vacuums AND steam cleans!)] What I am is sort of discombobulated. Think how you would feel if someone *yoinked* you upside down! fast! then spun you right side up! BAM! You're safe - you're fine. But spinny and disoriented. That's how I feel right now. That's how I feel every single time this shit happens. So like twice a week, I guess. It's a creepy feeling. Jeff did not used to believe me. HE LIVES IT NOW. I attract weird shit. YOU tell me why, go ahead because I can't really figure it out.
All I wanted was clean carpet, and I got remoras.
(Yes yes, I know, no strangers in the house Mike yelled at me already)
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