<$BlogRSDUrl$>

Monday, April 25, 2005

Okay. I've finally calmed down enough to blog about all this eBay crap. So, here it goes:

While I made a ridiculous amount of money on the Umbro shirt, I have failed to sell much else. I mean, I sold about nine items so far, but that's out of 40 total. I am a little depressed. I see that items like mine have sold -- that's what helps me to chose my items. I just don't understand. Maybe it's just the nature of the beast, but the listing fees are killing me. I have items that have a bunch of people watching them go to close without a single bid.

The worst one, though, has to be the guy in Taiwan who won the bidding on vintage silk negligee from the 30's and then disappeared. I'm gonna have to start blocking bidders with questionable pasts.

Every time I think I've stumbled upon a way to make some cash, I am thwarted by something. I'm talking about the painting business barely even hanging on, even though every other painter I know is busy, and now my eBay venture.

I have about 30 more items left to post. I will just try to hang in there and see what happens, I suppose.

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

Some of the things I have up for auction are ending today. These were the first things I put up. I AM SO NERVOUS! I feel like an expectant father or one going to trial. That's what it is to me. I take everything so damn personally. I mean, you all just have to like my stuff because it's my stuff and can't you see how cool it is and don't you want to be cool too, so you'd just better buy this stuff and we'll all feel better.

This is just a small blurb of what goes on inside my brain. It's down right scary, I know. That's the difference between the sane and the insane I've been told -- the sane know what they're thinking is scary the insane think it's normal. Seriously, I won't try to hurt anybody or anything if my stuff doesn't sell. I don't think.

But these fickle fickle fickle people. How can you like an item enough to watch it for 6 days and then, on the last day, decide you don't want to watch it anymore? I've been watching you watch it, motherfucker, for the last 6 days and all of a sudden, on the last day, it just ain't good enough for ya'? What's that all about, huh?

I know what would sell, I just don't have the lack of taste and ethics to post it -- a picture of the zit on my ass that slightly resembles Moses. From the Bible, not Malone.

Sunday, April 17, 2005

I am so glad that Blogger finally put a "Recover post" button on this damn thing. See, I wasn't the only one!

Anyway, Sunday was my birthday. Aaron asked me what I wanted to do, and I said I wanted to go thrift store shopping to find more things to sell on eBay. He totally agreed because he likes to do that too. I give him a list of brands and styles and he goes one way and I go the other. He's found some of the best stuff I've put up for sale so far.

I thought I was completely addicted to eBay before. Now that I'm selling, I'm constantly checking in to see how many people are watching an item, if anything sold, or if anyone has a question about an item. I friggin' love it.

I have one item up for sale that I've had for years. It's a vintage Umbro soccer jersey from the 70's, made in England, with a Scottish Football Association patch on it. I found it in a thrift store for a couple of bucks about five years ago. I've only worn it a few times and it's in great condition. The number of watchers is incredible. People have emailed me to ask if I'd take it off auction and sell it to them immediately, which is totally against eBay policy, so I don't take them up on it. For some reason I can't figure out, the people with all the dough, the Japanese, have taken an interest in it. Sure, I'll ship to Japan, but you're gonna have to pay out the ass for it.

The weird thing is, although it has a ton of watchers, no one has placed a bid yet. An old-time eBayer told me that's normal because they don't want to push it too high in the beginning. They just sit and wait and pounce. These are the bitches I spoke of in an earlier post. Now that they'll be paying me, I won't call them bitches. I'll call them cunningly skillful eBay bidders.

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

Bitch Moan Bitch Moan

Aaron needs a sleep study. He's not sleeping well and he's snoring like crazy. He's so tired during the day that he falls asleep, like some narcoleptic, many times each day. Sometimes he even falls asleep in front of his boss during a presentation. He forgets where he's going when he drives and forget simple everyday tasks. It's awful, and I feel bad for him.

The problem is his insurance. It recently changed for the worse, like so many others' insurance has, and they consider the sleep study a hospital stay and will charge us a $1000 deductible. We just don't have that kind of cash laying around. Sure, we could put it on a credit card, but by the time we paid it off, it would end up costing so much more with interest and fees and such.

We felt bad about all this and, then, after speaking to his parents, we felt worse. It seems they spent $22,000 out of pocket last year on medical costs. That's $22,000. For three people. None of whom are dying of cancer or anything. Some people in this world don't even make $22,000 a year.

Now, when the number one reason for filing bankruptcy has become increasing medical expenses, our government has made it more difficult to file bankruptcy. They state it's because of people abusing the system.

I feel like, well, if we ever need to "abuse the system", it would be the government's just desserts. I am tired of the system abusing us.

Fuck Bush, that retarded, corporation pandering, right-wing Christian, psuedo-Texan redneck and the fucking horse he rode in on.

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

You can be boring and only vote in the categories that interest you, or you can get out of your little box, vote in all categories, and maybe discover a great new site to play around on.

Cast your vote for the upcoming Webbies.

Monday, April 11, 2005

On Friday evening, while walking on a sidewalk at a local hotel, I busted my ass. It had just started raining again and my leather-soled cowboy boots didn't stand a chance against the painted cement. My legs went up in the air and so did my skirt. Thanks God no one saw it.

Anyway, I was sore as shit and spent a lot of the weekend watching movies:

Sullivan's Travels

Three on a Match

Hellraiser

From Beyond

The Brak Show, Volume 1

Some Kind of Monster

Thursday, April 07, 2005

Conversation from This Weekend

Hillbilly: (Looking directly into my eyes on a sunny deck in the mountains, speaking very seriously) Can I ask you somethin'?

Me: (Feeling slightly uncomfortable) Yeah, sure.

Hillbilly: Which one of them is real?

Me: What, my eyes?!!? They're both real!

Hillbilly: No, your hair. I know that they's both cain't be real. Ain't nobody's hair grow in stripes like that.

Me: Neither, actually. Gosh, you scared me. I thought one of my eyes had gone all crazy or something.

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

Today I was remembering a man from my past. His name was Ishmael. Yes, Ishmael. My hairstylist and I were discussing my being attracted to tall men. He also cuts Aaron's hair, who is tall, and he was wondering if that was the norm for me. I told him it was, as I am tall, but that the tallest was the aforementioned Ishmael.

Ish was a whopping 6'7", by far the tallest I've ever dated. Jeff my gay hairstylist also wanted to know if other things were equally as large and, being a lady, I told him "Hell, yeah! He was in proportion." I went on to say how much fun Ish was, how he'd show up on my doorstep and tell me to pack a bag because we were going to the beach or the mountains, which I loved because I am definitely the impulsive type. I talked about how hilarious he was, how much he adored me and appreciated me and what a good business he had.

Jeff wanted to know why the relationship had ended. I told him that although Ish and I had known each other for a year or so, our actual romance only lasted a few weeks. Toward the end of the first few weeks, I went to his house and on the inside of his coat closet there was a poster of his favorite celebrity crush: Reba McIntyre. I couldn't recover from the shock. I mean, didn't he know she looked like a big-haired, in-bred, munchkin alien? If this was the type he was attracted to, what did that make me? It didn't last much longer. Every time I talked to him, I would see her little alien pixie face and huge shock of red curly hair and fight off the waves of nausea. I was disgusted, and so the relationship had to die. Shallow, I suppose, but necessary.

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?