Fraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaak

I need to go to sleep and wake up in Canada, all moved and settled in whilst I was snoozing. Doing all this by myself is bullllllshit. Not feeling so positive today, obviously. I'm overwhelmed and every time I turn around there's another issue/problem/whining cat/deranged garage sale lady.

A few days after the garage sale, which was a couple of weekends ago, a weird lady came back to the house asking for a transformer for a lamp she bought. I should have told her then I wouldn't go looking for it and I should have shoved a $5 bill into her crabby, wrinkled mouth.

But I thought we might actually have it somewhere, so I told her I'd see if I could find it and asked if she lived in town. She said she didn't and that she'd be back the next day. Great! After she left I closed the curtains and locked the porch screen door.

Sure enough, she came back the next day and when she couldn't get the screen door open, she knocked/clawed at the front window. Funny, but that will never make me want to come to the door, so I kept working and eventually she left.

She came back again when I was actually not home and left a friggin' note on the door. I'm no accountant, but if she doesn't live relatively close by, she's just spent another $5 making repeated trips to my house.

I'd have gladly given her money back the first time, but I honestly thought she'd find the transformer on eBay or elsewhere, rather than keep stinging me like an angry wasp.

Came home today after a shoot and guess what was sitting on my porch? The goddamn lamp she bought with a self-addressed, stamped envelope taped to it. I know what you're thinking because it was my first thought, too - What should I send her in that little envelope?

Of course I'll do the right thing and send her money back, but it might be graphically enhanced and very securely taped to another piece of paper, or it could end up soaked in tuna oil right before it makes it into the envelope, because these things happen sometimes.

What a giant waste of time and energy. She must be a joy to live with. Speaking of joys, people have GOT to stop walking in front of the lens when I'm trying to photograph their goddamn properties.

Do you not see the big tripod and the shit attached to the top of it that makes the pretty pictures? Do you think we can just photoshop out the blurred vision of you obscuring the view, oblivious to the rest of the world and the people in it? Is my job somehow not as important as yours?

Unfortunately, because I'm a jangled mess of nerves right now, I actually told a guy today to please stop walking in front of the camera and to either come up or go down the stairs - one or the other, because I need to get the shot and move on.

Speaking of moving on... I had the flying dream again last night, but sadly, I was flying in and around a house to survey the best shots. Right after that, I was talking to Jennifer Aniston at a party. She'd had a major face lift and was still in recovery. As one might expect, she was aloof and not at all as friendly as you might hope she'd be.

Selling Your Crap

I think it was George Carlin who commented on how strange it is for Americans to sit in their yards surrounded by their crap, selling it to passersby who are happy to trade you $10 for something you don't think is even worth dropping off at Goodwill.

But by golly, it can be worthwhile if you can endure the pain of standing around in the blazing hot sun all day to earn a little gas money.

We parted with a basement full of useless crap - useless to us anyway - and cleared about $700. Not a bad wage for a Saturday I'd otherwise have spent watching HGTV or napping on the couch.

Oh, to nap on the couch. I can't wait to do that again someday, especially now, when my legs can't support my body's weight and I'm so stupid tired I'm actually enjoying an HBO boxing pre-show.

The whole garage sale scene is fascinating. What you think will be a big seller is oftentimes not, and what you think should probably go straight into the trash can goes like hotcakes.

And then you have the Bargain Bettys. No matter what price you quote, they want it for less, even if what you quoted is ridiculously under-priced.

One woman obviously didn't want the sweater she was holding, as all she could do was tell me everything that was wrong with it. I was ready to rip it out of her hands and tell her she wasn't allowed to buy it.

It seems like people are happy to find a treasure that doesn't cost much - a momentary source of joy, and no more. Things that might bring long-term value, like antiques, aren't popular. Few people are willing to barter. I kept saying "make me an offer, this isn't Macy's!"

Thankfully, we got rid of a huge amount of stuff and nearly broke even on the cost of my trip to Vancouver last week. Not too shabby.

And one shopper told me I had great teeth - who doesn't love to hear that? The best part of the day, by far, was David making a run to Peet's for me. Best husband ever.