We've reached a lull in the whole house-buying/house-selling thing. There's nothing we can do for either transaction but wait.
And look at craigslist.
I tend to search craigslist for things I don't even want. Like a piano. Every day, I check to see if there are any pianos for sale. Mostly, though, I check the various categories:
- barter — I'm fascinated by the barters available: home theater for external hard drive? Maybe, maybe. Photography for maid services. Tell me more.
- bikes — some are tempting, but do I really need another bike?
- books — nothing tempting so far, which is sad
- free stuff — ah, my favorite category! Amidst the stuff we might want — a picnic table, chickens (laying hens), horse manure — are a hodge-podge of oddities — an Aerosmith video, pet rats, free white duck, a dog lick — and, of course, lots and lots of kittens.
- furniture — the main category we explore.
- general — like the free category, except people are charging money. Do you need a stack of video game magazines? Home beer brewing equipment? A roll of naugahide? How about baby formula? A bongo drum? A sno-cone machine? Tools, tools, tools?
- items wanted — I check here to see if anyone wants my old crap, but nobody ever does. They want things like a banjo, an anvil, a reel-to-reel tape recorder. They want a piano — hey, I want one too! There are some things I have that people want, but I don't know if I'm willing to sell/trade them. Maybe.
- collectibles — it's odd what some people consider collectible — a 1960 starter pistol? — but it's fun to browse this category.
- computers — I keep hoping I'll be able to sell some of my parts in this category.
- electronics — do I covet some of the items sold in this category? Yes, I do.
- household — the last useful category. Household is another catch-all category, where you'll find the useful and the not-so-much: a 1935 monitor top fridge (does not work), a cotton candy machine, cowboy hat and boot bookends, a lifelike raccoon figure. You get the idea.
"Hm," I thought. "Only $30. And it'd look old-fashioned in our bathroom." So I called the guy, drove to Portland, bought the scales from him. Our first craigslist transaction.
"You're done now, you know," Kris told me later. "No more."
"What do you mean?" I asked. "I don't plan to buy another set of scales."
"No more," she said. "That's enough of your goofy purchases."
Meanwhile, she's been checking craigslist compulsively, even at work. We send each other e-mail a couple of times a day. "How about this chair? What about this desk?"
Kris was in a state of resigned panic this morning. "I can't believe it's so late," she said, glancing at the clock. "There's no chance I'll make my bus."
"It's because you spent so long looking at craigslist," I said.
She sighed. "I know. I can't help it. There's nothing else we can do on the house right now. All we can do is shop."
"By the way," I said. "I don't know if it's fair that you've restricted me to a single purchase — a thirty dollar scales — while you're making offers on chairs and desks and all sorts of mirrors." We've already agreed to buy two mirrors now, and Kris is looking for more.
She grinned at me, winningly. "But honey, the mirrors are for you." I grumbled, but knew she was right. I do love all the mirrors currently in the house, and I would like for us to have many on the walls, too. Or as many as we can squeeze in between bookcases. "Besides, these mirrors are bargains."
Kris and I decided that when we move into the new place, we're going to get rid of our stuff on craigslist. The comic books I don't want? Gone. Our surplus books? Gone. My external hard drive? Bartered for power tools. This'll be better than eBay!
(One hint to craigslisters: use photos, dammit! It's no good to say you have a beautiful mahogany desk. If I can't see a photo of it, I'm not going to consider it an option.)
Red Lobster advertises via pop-up ads and spyware. I've never been to one before, and now I never will. I refuse to support jerks who advertise like this.
On this day at foldedspace.org
2005 — Essential Macintosh Software I've been back on Macintosh for nearly three years, and have explored a lot of the available software, and am now willing to make recommendations.
2003 — Cabin Fever In which life sucks. Get me out of here!
2002 — Easy Does It It has been a light and easy week. I've considered posting a lengthy entry or two, but have opted for a life of leisure instead.
I think you need to have the racoon leaning into the cotton candy machine as the center piece of your new living room...What do you think Kris?