After expenses – posterboard, tape, etc. – the yard sale netted me $183. I think that’s acceptable – most of my stuff was at pocket-change prices, so it’s a pretty good haul, all things considered.

There are still two big boxes of clothes, all packed up for their trip to the Salvation Army tomorrow. Don’t ask me why no one wanted to buy a Juicy Couture terry dress (green, size P, gently used) for two freaking dollars – but no one did. Heh. My neighbors are so low-brow. I still have the wedding dress and I’m going to try that on Craigslist again a few more times. I’m stingy enough to not want to let that one go for free.

There’s still so much to do in the week before the house hits the listings. I have two more rooms that I MUST paint in the basement, a floor to finish (after Dad is done with the drywall tomorrow), quarter-round molding to stain and install, and a ton ton ton of cleaning. My agent says that a lot of the houses that go on the market and stay on the market forever are not bad houses… they have messy owners who don’t understand that buyers don’t want to know what you had for dinner, what sort of cheesy collections you have, or what your family looks like.

When I was shopping for my house a few years ago, I toured one that not only had dog hair everywhere, it was practically a shrine to the Lords of Tacky. A LIGHT-UP rendering of the Last Supper? It looked like someone slapped a poster on a Lite-Brite and let their toddlers go nuts. Couple that with the velvet clown thing over the fireplace. Now add in the moose head that was wearing a Miller Lite cap, and one of those singing fish things. The occupant also obviously collected thimbles, shot glasses, spoons, and anything else you can buy at gas stations near state lines. There were lawn ornaments on every square inch of lawn. A fake waterfall in the backyard.

Um, NO.

The sad thing is, it was probably a really nice little house. I have a good imagination and I can usually see beyond things I can easily remedy. I can switch out light fixtures and change paint and remove wallpaper and install  closet shelving. I can envision the “after” pictures before they show them on HGTV. But even I could not look past the volume of CRAP in that particular house. I understand that people still have to live there while the house is on the market, but I’m prepared to live without my friend’s wedding pictures on the piano and my little travel collectibles on the sills of the stained-glass windows. My agent even suggested taking down things like my college diploma in order to declutter the walls and give that “more-space” feeling. I think YOU can lose your Lite-Brite for a little while.

Maybe living without my stuff will make me WANT to move. Why should you leave when you’re comfortable? The thought of such a clean and clutter-free house just makes me kind of itchy and ready to go someplace where I can leave a dish in the sink and not worry all day about my cat leaving a hairball in the hallway.

Wow, I just motivated myself. The faster I clean and paint, the faster it sells, right?

Now I just have to finish Pretty in Plaid, catch up on the Google Reader, and take one last look at the crossword I started but didn’t finish last night….

I’m having a yard sale this weekend!**

I’ve spent the last few days digging through boxes and pulling out things to sell, things to trash, and things to keep. Good gawdalmighty do I have a lot of stuff. I’ve moved THREE TIMES since my ex-fiance and I broke up, and I still have pictures of us together?

HAD. I tossed the pictures in the trash pile and marked the frames for 50 cents each. Those were nice frames.

Why did I even have those six years after we broke up anyway? I swear I didn’t know they were there. I must have just never unpacked that box in all these years. And all of my sorority goodies – pledge book, song book, dried roses and half-burnt candles? What did I think I’d ever do with these anyway? I’m not involved in the alumni chapter and don’t plan to be. But you can’t sell that stuff… secret society and all that crap, plus who would really want it? Toss.

I found a lot of pictures that I’d forgotten about – remember 35mm cameras? Remember film? Remember photo albums that you held in your hands and flipped through with friends? I saved most of the pictures – how can you throw away pictures? – and marked the 35mm Nikon for $2.  The photos will probably stay in envelopes until the cows come home** but I don’t think they’ll end up in the trash. Seriously? Prom? Pledge season? I’m not saving wilted flowers but I think these can stay… in a box somewhere, but they will stay.

Cat toys that I’ve never opened? 25 cents, please.

Practically new computer case that doesn’t fit my new laptop? Yours for $5.

Box of about $80 worth of screenprinting supplies, including frames and a board? Take it for $10.

Huge pile of scrapbooking papers, stickers and accessories from the days when I actually made albums? I’ll give you a bargain – $5 for the lot of it.

There are some things I kind of feel like I SHOULD keep because I think that maybe, just maybe I will want them for decorating my new apartment or giving them to the children I don’t yet have.

They’re all perfectly good! I paid $25 for that thing! I haven’t seen it in 2 years, but… $25!!!

But that’s the kind of mentality that got me surrounded by these boxes in the first place. It’s in my genes – my mother’s side of the family is packed with pack rats. I’m breaking the chain and adopting the “If Jesus wants me to have it, it won’t sell” and slapping price tags on almost everything.

The wedding dress never sold on Craigslist (raar!) but it’ll be in this sale. I haven’t even started tagging the rest of the clothes… any clothes that don’t sell will be donated to the Scholar Shop on Monday. I will not waver.

You know you should get rid of it but… what weird stuff have you kept?

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** And yes, there will be another awesome CL ad coming soon.

** Except for a few choice specimens that will be scanned and uploaded to Facebook. BWAHAHA!

The happy fun of going to the  Cubs-Cards game yesterday (7-3,go Cubs go!) was tempered by a migraine and a very drunk boyfriend that I was about to punch in the head. It drives me nuts sometimes – he is normally such a sweet and considerate guy. He worries about me and takes care of me when I’m sick. But yesterday, good lord. Some sort of E-replacing, beer-based demon ate his brain, and that was NOT what I wanted to deal with when I was stuck at his house, unable to drive myself home or even sleep because I was in so much pain.

I woke up this morning, still woozy from the supa-strength narcotic pain meds, in a snuggly cuddle with a snoring boyfriend whose first slurry words were “I love you so much” when I rolled over and woke him.

Anyway, on to a different thing that might put you off your appetite instead.

I was reviewing some OR instrumentation today. Some of these names make about as much sense as the names on OPI nail polish. Maybe less. You could guess that “In the Navy” is dark blue and “Canta-berry Tales” is probably some shade of dark red, but put your imagination to use on these…

Brain Spoon?

Big Ugly?

BEAVER RETRACTOR???

On Monday I mentioned a few things that people say on birthdays that really get on my nerves. I forgot to mention the other annoying bit – and that’s when they don’t say anything at all.

Even Tim, who forgets his own birthday sometimes, remembered mine and took a few seconds to send me a two-word text. And it’s not like the person who has been my best friend for three years was off backpacking in the woods with no cell service. It’s not like there was even a decent excuse. Seriously, why not just say “Oh, I thought your birthday was TUESDAY!” like everyone else who honestly forgets from time to time? Nope. Just “I was busy and didn’t have time.”

So that kind of stung.

I know this sounds petty – I know everyone forgets things sometimes. But I think that at the bottom of it all, the thing that annoys me about this situation today is the rude awakening. You see, this particular time with this particular person makes me especially sad because it really makes me feels like this is the end of the part of my life in which she really wanted to be there. I don’t feel that now. It’s all been falling through the cracks somehow, slowly but surely. Unreturned calls and refused invitations can only go on so long before they really make a girl feel pushed out. She has a different life now and I could blame the changes on a dozen different things, but there’s no point in laying blame anymore. At the end of the day, what remains is the inescapable fact that there’s not much room in that life for me anymore.

She asked me to go to lunch today as a belated birthday apology, but I said no. I was mad and didn’t want to pout or say mean things. I didn’t want to say anything. Lately we haven’t had that much to talk about anyway. When we do talk, the things we say sometimes seem contrived or fake, as though we want to convince each other – and ourselves – that things are still the way they were.

I’ll still keep her secrets because I still have a few of them that no one else knows. I’ll always love her for helping me through some of the worst times in my life. And I’ll still say “She’s doing fine” when people at work ask about her, because that’s what I want for her – even though I should be honest and say “I have no idea,” because most of the time I really don’t know.

Relationships come and go. Lives change, paths diverge, and some losses are inevitable. But I miss that friendship we had. I miss my friend.

There is a resale shop here in St. Louis called the Women’s Closet Exchange. They only deal in nicer brands, say Banana Republic on up. So when I dug through the spring clothes and found a TON of my lovely things that do not fit anymore, I tidied them up, removed every last cat hair, and took them in. I was hoping to get at least enough to snag those barely-worn pink Kate Spade driving mocs. At least my feet didn’t gain any of this last year’s twenty pounds.

But then… sadness.

“You only want THESE?” I asked, looking at the small pile of goodies the saleswoman picked from my things. “Not the Banana Republic skirts, or the J Crew crop pants and button-downs, or the Lilly Pulitzer sundress?”

“No, I’m sorry, we just have so much stock of smalls and extra-smalls now, we don’t need them.”

Lady, neither do I.