Getting Dickered

Well, Reader, I think I've found the answer.  The reason prostitution was invented was because some gal back in the olden days had a garage sale and realized she could make more money with less stress and backbreaking work giving a ten-minute blowjob. And less dickering over the price. Probably. 

So yeah.  That garage sale was a lot of days of effort for very low return.  I guess not so surprisingly we had a lot of interest in electronics, video games, sports memorabilia and a bunch of collectible stuff my uncle contributed to the cause. But I guess not so surprisingly, no one wanted much of anything else. Meaning my stuff. So those tables of glassware and knick knacks are still pretty much loaded, like we never had a garage sale. 

Day 1, Thursday, had a good amount of people.  Day 2, Friday, yielded about 6 customers and equal amount of dollars.  We shut the door at 1:30 and went to the movies. Where we blew all our profits+ seeing Jurassic World in 3D and in the D-Box seats, so the ultimate way to see a Dinosaur's Gone Wild event and also the ultimate way to spend $37 on a matinee, not including popcorn. We movie-d like rich people, and not like a couple of unemployed garage sale losers.

By the third day of the sale, Saturday, there was no fucking way I was hauling my ass out of bed at 8 a.m. to sit in my driveway.  I didn't care what I said in the ad. I was delusional when I thought I could garage sale for three days from 8 a.m. - 5:30 p.m.  

My friendie The Hoff showed up around 1:00 p.m. on Saturday and caught me sitting at the kitchen table, unshowered and in my pajamas, with the garage door closed.

"Um, is this a new way to have a garage sale that I don't know about?" 

She shamed me into showering and opening the door.  

All that effort netted about six customers for the remainder of the afternoon, and other than my neighbor buying a lot of my purses, we netted about six bucks for the effort. My neighbor, however, spent about $45, so I basically could have just invited her over for a cuppa coffee and sold her my purses for a lot less effort. 

At the end of the three days I was sore and stiff and exhausted and tired of getting negotiated down on the cost of all my stuff. Some guy actually tossed a brand new, never opened Star Wars Target-Exclusive-with-a-medallion-included-and-everything DVD set back with a hurumph of disgust because I wouldn't come down from the $5 price tag. Five bucks was just too damn much. 

I knew it was going to be like that.  I did. I just didn't think I'd get so annoyed. To the point that I'm ready to keep half of the shit I had planned on selling, because everyone can fuck off that thinks two bucks is one buck too much. 

So yeah. With all that, we're doing it again for one more day. This coming Thursday, because everything is already set up.  We're going to re-arrange the tables, take more pictures, get rid of some of my shit and add more collectibles and sports stuff and open the garage door. 

Probably before noon. 

But I can't make any guarantees.

p.s. - I need to give special mention to my Fairy Godmothers who stopped by before the sale, waved their magic wants, wherein that means they worked their asses off for eight solid hours helping me get tables set up in the garage, and then came back to help me on Opening Day. Couldn't have done it without you. Hillary Clinton nailed it - Takes a Village. I'm pretty sure a garage sale was what she meant.

oh, and p.p.s. - Didn't sell any hotdogs. None. Zero. Zip. Nada. So now I have 120 hotdogs sitting in my fridge.  Come over for dinner. You'll never guess what we're having. 

Trash or Treasure

Happy Day, Reader!   

Sorry to leave you for so long without a new post, I know you're crying out for entertainment! At least that's what I tell myself to justify the time I spend typing up words instead of doing More Productive Things.  This is productive, right? Because it makes my brain think a little bit. Very little, but I'm still counting it. 

I've been super busy lately.  Preparing my life for a bad-ass garage sale. Because I'm getting rid of stuff. The rule here is, if it doesn't fit in this space, it has to go. Because I'm never going to have a bigger house than this one, and so I'm done with hanging on to things for "one day."  I have even made the decision to pull out my china and use it on a more everyday basis, because what enjoyment am I getting from it keeping it in pristine condition in a box in the garage? Zero enjoyment, Reader. That's how much. 

It dawned on me recently what a waste it is to keep and hang on to stuff for "one day" while I was helping my friendie clean out her attic. There was a beautiful china set, and furniture and just stuff that people had to keep, and while today it's sort of antique-y and vintage-y and worth a couple of bucks, is it really worth it to clutter up an entire attic and let some other generation sort through it all?  

I don't have a next generation to sort through all my shit so it would either end up in someone elses garage sale, or get auctioned off for a nominal amount and someone would be cursing me because it became their problem.  

I've gone through a few estate sales in the area lately and they always leave me blue. It's some old person's life, spread out there with quarter price tags attached, and some of it is such shit no one even wants it for even a quarter. Collections and treasures and vacation memorabilia.  

I live a much more sparsely decorated existence than I have in the past. I have things out that remind me of a great vacation, a great person, a great time, etc. But the shit I have in boxes or that doesn't matter at all to me? It's going For Sale.  At least I'll get to spend the quarter that it brings.  Probably in Vegas. Next month, as a matter of fact. 

So come over, Readers! This Thurs-Fri-Sat.  Don't miss out on purchasing something from Chez Bang Bang! And I'm selling hot dogs, too! Get your wieners here!! 

I think that'll be my slogan. 

Try As I Might.

This is probably the most political blog I'm ever going to write, Reader.  I know, I know, you expect different when you come here. I try to keep it mostly about nonsense and vaginas, and in that respect I'm still staying true to thine own self and you.  But this time it's not about what's going on in my pants, but instead what's going on with Bruce Jenner's, or Caitlyn's vagina-area. 

Now, before you click off and go read more fun things about cute kittens and Pinterest projects, give me a minute. Or go and click off right now, it may save our relationship. 

I personally have a whatever-it-takes-to-be-happy-in-life opinion about it - I am a really really lefty liberal - but why why why do so many of my heterosexual friends have such strong opinions about it??

My heterosexual social media friends are of the opinion that they know exactly how, what, where and when Bruce Jenner should have made his transition, or are of the opinion that she should have never made a transition, or are so resentful that she is making money off of the news, or that she's doing nothing to move the LGBT community forward. 

Let me reiterate - these are heterosexual friends, who are not even part of the LGBT community. They have opinions on what she should do with her money, how it's affecting her family, and that she should have never had children. Some take the position of stating they will always refer to her as Mr. Jenner. That'll show 'em. 

These are usually the same folks who would never allow another person tell them how to live their life, how to spend their money, how to raise their children, etc. 

I haven't seen one opinion about Caitlyn Jenner's trangendering in my news feed from any one of my LGBT friends. Not one. 

Many posts concluded with how this wasn't a "courageous" act. Many many posts. 

I try to scroll past it all or just hide these newsfeeds, but sometimes the comments niggle into my craw just a little bit. 

The word "courage" seems to be their hot button.

Their picture of "courage" every time looks like a bloodied, limb-missing combat soldier. Soldiers are courageous. There is no dispute or doubt from me. 


But then I took the bait and made a comment. I try so hard to stay away from the bait. I really, really do. Maybe it's because I'm unemployed and have too much free time between kissing kittens and Pinterest projects.  I'm spending too much time on Facebook. 

My comment read something about "courage doesn't have to look like just one thing." I thought that was really toning it down. 

The next day he posted a comment about my comment, and said he "agreed, it doesn't have to look like one thing" and included pictures of firefighters running into a blazing building, policemen doing heroic deeds, etc. 

Which are all courageous. Yes, there is no doubt about that. 

But they still all look like the same thing, so his counterpoint wasn't very well made to me. 

So I took the bait. Again. And made another comment. 

This. Is where it all went bad.

To me, courage also looks like the addict standing in a room full of strangers and admitting they have a problem and asking for help. 

It looks like the battered woman having the courage to finally say, "Enough!" and leaving her abusive relationship with three kids, no money, no family support, not knowing how she will get by, and leaving anyway. 

It looks like someone who has lost a child, and having the courage to get up and face their one-less-child-world every day to tend to the rest of the family when they really want to crawl under the covers and never emerge.  

It looks like anyone who is afraid of being judged, shamed, embarrassed and humiliated, and putting themselves into the spotlight anyway. 

It looks like anyone who fights - mentally or physically - to just hold their life together when the seams are fraying faster than they can sew. 

I looked up the the definition of courage, because maybe I have it all wrong. The Merriam-Webster definition reads like this:

Full Definition of COURAGE

:  mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty

Per usual, it seems when I do say something that isn't about kittens or cake, it all ends badly. 

Not because of his differing opinion. Not because of Caitlyn Jenner's non-vagina, when he summed up as a "chick with a dick," which does offend me because it belittles a whole entire human being with a flippant comment. Still, we can be friends, despite that. And not because he disagreed with me.  But because one of his friends posted a comment calling me a "bitch" and "I hope you don't call this person a friend" and he "liked' the comment.  

He told me, "This is the first time I've been unfriended because of something someone else said. You're pretty sensitive." 

My response was something along the lines of, "Let's be clear, you're not unfriended because of something someone else said about me. You're unfriended because you supported/liked the comment. That's not a friend of mine, real or social-media. That's not allowed in my world. And also, don't confuse having standards of friendship with being "emotional" or "sensitive." 

I am fortunate to have a diverse group of people that I am friends with, both social media and real. I think it helps me to understand different perspectives. It also has made me realize I have some hot buttons that are pretty easy to push. And usually it's around bullying.  

Because all those comments are just bullying. They are meant to tear another person down.  

I have tried over the years to stay out of the fray on Facebook. I'm getting less able to do so.  Just this morning I had two cents that I couldn't stop myself from posting in response to a post from a conservative friend about the welfare state of America.  I really hope it doesn't result in unfriending, because she's peripheral family and I like her. I just don't agree with her. 

Because maybe I know too many people, including a transgender friend who is one of the kindest, most sensitive people I know, and a hardworking friend who fell on hard times and who needed to use welfare to stave off homelessness, and myself, currently using "the system" of Obamacare to be able to ~barely~ afford healthcare while I'm unemployed -  and I find it really difficult to sit silently by and let these quippy comments and posts sum up people - my friends, myself - with generalized statements that belittle and bully us into feeling like lesser human beings. 

So maybe I need to take a Facebook time-out. Until I can be trusted again to stick to posting pictures of cute kittens and cake.  

Oh, by the way, I guess I did get one comment from my LGBT-community brother about the whole Caitlyn Jenner situation. His opinion was, "Look, I'm not upset about how Bruce Jenner decided to come out about becoming a woman. I'm disgusted that she still calls herself a Conservative and a Republican.*" 


*I was corrected by my brother that he said both Conservative and Republican. Because apparently there's a difference and if I'm going to paraphrase, get it right. 

I Expect More From This Relationship

Dear June,

We started the month out at 47-degrees and damp. 

I had to turn on the heat.

And wear a heavy sweater. 

And wrap cats around my neck like a scarf. 

And put several other cats down my pants like modern-day leg warmers. 

Good thing I have so many cats. 

I didn't expect to be wearing them in June. 

The cats aren't happy. 

I'm not happy. 

This is no way to begin our relationship. 

I want to love you. 

I have plans for you and I. 

I bought a pool. 

It's waiting for sunny Naked Pool Days.

Please readjust yourself and try again. 

Sincerely,
Trixie Bang Bang