Truth IS Stranger Than Fiction

What I left out about the garage sale this weekend was the assortment of characters we encountered. I love characters; in novels, on TV and especially in person. The fun didn’t start until we were about an hour into it.

A nice old hippy guy rode up on his bicycle and perused my stash. He asked about the Rolling Stone magazines, the books and records, then was inspired to speak about the Republicans. Now, I am very left leaning, but I try to not discuss politics with strangers since I can never be sure just how strange they get and it is never nice to be the victim of friendly fire. This man went on about how the GOP should just come out and say they hate N-word and (this is where I froze and Paul looked at me for the reaction) that they should just admit to being racists. I calmed a bit. His rant continued as he spelled out his solution for the wars we are in “re-instate the draft and bring it home like they did Vietnam.” Then a rant about reality TV and the reason he rides a bike is because he refuses to pay for gas. And on it went as I moved away and helped other customers. He didn’t buy anything.

On the opposite end of the political spectrum were the recent transplants from Alaska. These folks spouted off immediately that the only reason people don’t like Sarah Palin is because she is a woman (I could give about a dozen of just my own reasons) and that no one will admit they voted for Obama now. I kept my mouth shut. They kept it up and I concluded that the older couple that was also inspecting my past were in agreement since they kept shaking their heads up and down. The Alaska people bought what they wanted (and spent the most) and were on their way, when the retirees shared that they were Obama supports and that they had a bunch of reasons to dislike the former governor.

During the day we had a couple of hard-living ladies stumble up, one shared that she had a broken hip and her eyes revealed that she was wasted, probably on pain meds. I had a feeling she could handle pain since she was tatted up something fierce on ever part of her revealed body. I didn’t want to stare, but I couldn’t make out many of the tats, though they did beg to be stared at as they crept up from the top of her low-cut shirt. While her friend meandered through my leftover things, she explained that they were going to a concert that evening. I, being the practical and sometimes dull person I am, asked if she would be OK at a concert since she was in so much pain. She laid my concerns to rest by shaking her ass and turning for a wink. I couldn’t help but laugh with her, even if they didn’t buy anything.

There was also a lady who wanted something for nothing, and I refused her. A guy who wanted only knives and guns (sorry, clean out), the VET who was so stoned he could barely walk and only wanted a coke and a flirt. Then came my rude neighbor. He comes over whenever I have a sale and it is his time to be as pretentious as possible. It is annoying, but also entertaining since I no longer have to speak to him often. D is the kind of guy who is the gay version of a kept woman. His ex-boyfriend pays for his house, pays his bills and probably sets up other guys to pay some of the costs as well. D has never worked as long as he’s lived there (which is about 5 years) and yet bitches about not having money. He refuses to get a job since to work is beneath him (his words, not mine). I have a feeling he doesn’t work because no one likes him enough to hire him.

On this occasion, D came by and checked out my record collection asking, “Is there anything good in there?” “It’s all good.” I snarkily answered. He went on in his pretentious tone that vinyl is a flawed format and that he only plays records for his friends (men he picks up on the internet) for their novelty value (I take that to be the men and the records.) Later, when we were cleaning up he came by and asked if I still had any Beatle records and I told him I sold the whole lot. It was a lie, but I just couldn’t be in his presence for another moment. He is the epitome of asshole.

So whether they bought something or not, I definitely scored big when it came to the crowd that visited my driveway. I will miss them, but I can live with that.

Confessions of a Material Anorexic

Hello. My name is Patricia and I am a material anorexic. I used to be a material bulimic. I would get such a thrill from acquiring and collecting things. Then the downside came when I had to organize, place and worst of all, dust my clutter. Then I would purge little bits only to make room for more things.

As an anorexic, I am purging, but not putting anymore in. Now, if I buy anything it is something I truly could use, like a rice cooker. This weekend, I had the garage sale to end all garage sales and got rid of pretty much everything on the tables. In fact, I was giving it away. The tidbits that are left over are being donated and I’m not done yet.

My purge included a plethora of books (a lot of erotica), kitchen items (steel bowls, a deep fryer and a bread machine), clothes, collectibles (Hello Kitty), records (from Sinatra to the Beatles to the Pretenders and Sisters of Mercy), as well as candle holders, a whip and a flat panel monitor. I tried to part with my Mummy, but nobody bought him, so he’s staying.

Yesterday I went through my kitchen and have come up with two more boxes to donate. This week will be the spare bedroom and my bedroom. I figure I have about 5 or 6 more boxes to pack. It is invigorating and enlightening. But it wasn’t all pretty.

Paul was at my side, when I confessed the night before that I was getting very anxious. Tears welled up in my eyes when I told him that I was giving away the past 30 years of my life. He couldn’t understand since he is not a pack rat nor does he put much value into material items, though he does has a fabulously decorated home. He just listened as I reasoned out that things are just things and that having so much clutter only makes me more anxious and stressed. I talked myself out of it and we continued getting it all prepped.

It went flawlessly, thanks to his help. I was tempted to keep the leftovers for another sale, but he convinced me to just get rid of it all. It feels good.

But it was hard work and at 3 p.m. I was ready for a nap, but no luck. Instead we had to run a few errands, grab a quick bite and get ready for a dinner party at Mary’s. It was so worth it. Unfortunately, I didn’t have my camera to show you the luscious delights she prepared for us, but wow, it was great.

Each course of the night was better than the last, which was hard to believe. We started with some artisan cheeses and wine and all of us said with cracker-filled mouthfuls, “This is the best thing ever.” Then came the millet and sundried tomato cakes with pesto. More “No, this is the best thing ever.” And on it went with caramelized onion crostinis, escarole and white bean sou p(perfect for dipping the crostinis in), crispy baked zucchini and eggplant stacks with goat and provolone cheese dripping with homemade sauce, and tiramisu cream with shaved chocolate. I drank a perfectly paired Prosecco with all courses and just loved the intensity of the whole night. Even Paul liked most of it.

By the time we got home, I was exhausted and as he finished watching Round 3 of the Masters, I crawled into bed and slept the sleep of the weary. Perfect.

Give It AWAY!

I had a great time at the Crescent Lake yard sale. Though I have a bunch more to sell, I did pretty well with 3 empty boxes at the end of the day. Marit had reserved 6 spots for her, her cousin, a few friends, Ren and I. Ren concentrated on selling her artwork and did pretty well. She even got me to buy something (though it is for a gift.) I exchanged money for my memories and parted with concert T-shirts, posters, books, DVDs, VHS tapes (really) and other trinkets like glassware, toys and clothes.

The biggest deal was selling Guy’s Digits poster that he donated to the cause. It actually got the asking price. He also donated shakers, bowling toys – which went like hotcakes, and clothes which were grabbed up by the hunky guys strolling the park. Chris also helped out donating books that were immediately grabbed up and padded my pocket with a few bucks. The reason these guys were helping with cleaning out their own closets was because I have become a little strapped for cash with Finn’s medical bills.

So the season has begun and I will be having sales once a month to relinquish my dusty old ways and make room for new funds and Finn’s health. It feels very liberating to get rid of all this. Plus, I like chatting with people and making them happy with my old treasures.

Fry and Fry Again

Note to Self – no more garage sales in the heat of summer. Though I am trying to stay very positive in these posts, I unfortunately am overshadowed (which would have provide coolness) about the garage/art sale we were apart of on Saturday. ARTPool had a big outdoor yart sale with original works, cool retro things and all kinds of mish-mash items.

I stayed with Guy selling his stuff, my stuff, Kelli’s stuff, Shawn’s stuff and whoever else’s stuff. It sort of got on my last nerve, but that could have been the over 100 degree heat. Thankfully we had a tent. So that will start off the list of good things about Saturday’s sale (since I need to put my mind in a better place):
* We had a tent so it felt more like 98 degrees instead of 106.
* I made $4 after paying for my lunch and a gallon of waters.
* I got to meet Marina (The owner of ARTpool) who is really cool
* Renee got a space in ARTpool for her work
* Got to meet Joanna a really cool artist who rehashes vintage bags into funky pieces of wearable art.
* Got some inspiration.
* Got to try Freedom Fries from the Chatterbox restaurant across the street. I thought the name was so dumb at first, but after I tried them, I figured they were so good he could call them whatever he wanted.
* Took home some free cookbooks from Shawn and jewelry from Joanna, so I actually took home more than I brought. Afterward we made the crawl all sweaty and messy to Georgie’s, downed a couple margaritas which were so delicious and back to get ready for dinner.

It just was and wasn’t my day, all at the same time. The food at the stand-by Mexican place we always go was pretty poor, but the crowd was great with all the old favorites. It also gave me time to catch up with Liz, a photographer and mom whose recent adventures took her to New Mexico on a photo safari of sorts. Her work is amazing and hopefully she’ll be getting a Web site up soon so I can direct you there. She is as greatly inspired by the West and Southwest as I am by city architecture and cemeteries. We actually threw around the idea of starting a women’s artist collective to help support each other and inspire one another. I’ll let you know how that goes.

We finished the evening off with a quick nightcap at the Pro Shop and went on our ways … Until next time.

Sell Sell Sell

The day started early for us as Guy, Ronn and I forced ourselves from slumber at around 6 a.m. so we could get the plethora of crap (treasures) assembled for the masses. We hung signs and clothes, organized knick-knacks and drank coffee to keep us warm.

It started out slow, but picked up immediately, I think that may have been do to the signs we made and hung in the gayborhood next door. It was a blessing is disguise since the Manhattan from the night before was still making my brain damp. That soon cleared and I was ready to wheel and deal for a few hours.

We stayed open a little later than we planned, but it was worth it. Most of my stuff is now in other people’s hands and I say “Good riddance.” My pockets, though not bulging with money, hang low do to the weight of all the quarters I collected (I may be able to fill up my coin jar with this adventure.)

Afterward we cleaned up and feeling a bit tired and weak (that was from the hard-core Body Sculpt class I took yesterday) I started collecting more things from the house to sell for the next time. I had a pretty big chip on my shoulder sustained by my success with this sale, but I just count my blessings and see how lucky I am.

I think this may be a new hobby for me. I really enjoyed the characters that came to my sale from the Asian man who wanted everything for $2 that was priced $10, to the couple of ladies who came in their pajamas and bickered about who was a bigger pack rat, to the cool goth mom who enjoyed all my Death stuff and lace gloves.

I enjoyed every second except for the set up and sign making. Guy was in a mood and I just couldn’t deal with it. He was bored and isn’t really the garage selling kind of guy since he doesn’t interact with the customers and wants to make a profit on everything. The reason behind garage sales is to get rid of your junk and make some cash, not making a profit.

In any case, it went well. I was so tired by the end that I put it all away, asked my neighbor for some whiskey and relaxed the rest of the evening.