| How Does Craigslist Work? | 10:18 PM |
I just moved and have some household items I have to sell -- things that are too small or too big for the new place. Saturday morning I took some photos and posted two ads on craigslist. Six hours later, I removed said ads and was done with the whole business.
Quite frankly I was surprised it went so fast. A woman called and left a message about my dining room table and chairs while I was out for a late lunch. I returned her call and she wanted to come over and see it. The topic of fitting it into her car came up and she told me what kind of car she had and I said ok. I was excited someone was interested because it was the first phone call I'd gotten about the ads, but then I began to contemplate how crazy it was to invite a complete stranger over to my new home.
An hour later a man called, asked for me and said he was downstairs and I started to think...What a clever scam -- have the woman call and set up the appointment, but send the man to the actual address. Clever and diabolical indeed. But because I had gotten an email from a man's address with her name on it (she had a really unique name), I assumed they were husband and wife and I looked out the window and the car she had mentioned over the phone was downstairs so I went down and let them both in.
They came up, looked over the table and chairs, agreed they both wanted them, and then as she was counting money out of her wallet, she asked, So what do you do at ___? You work there, right? And I froze for a second, then said, How do you know that? And her husband laughed and said, caller id! Damn work issued cell phone! He continued, any anonymity you thought you had is gone. It made me laugh (and also immediately wonder if I'd called anyone else back).
Then 15 minutes later another couple came over to look at the rug. Again -- woman called, asked if she could she come over right now to look at it. I said ok. I got to the door and she was adorable and looked non-threatening. He had murder in his gorgeous sky blue eyes. But I let them both in anyway. She got excited about the rug, and he completely softened and became solicitous -- it was actually quite sweet. She paid me; they took the rug. The end.
I don't know the magic of craigslist and how it is that I've never had a bad experience on it. I've met people on craigslist, I've bought both my motorcycles off there, I found my writing group, I've found all of my SF apartments on there, and my pet rat, now I've even sold stuff, and almost every person I've interacted with via ads on craigslist has resulted in a pleasant experience (I had one slighly unpleasant experience with a woman trying to sell a motorcycle, but I didn't buy her bike and it wasn't that big of a deal). What are the odds though? And how often are there unpleasant experiences -- because I find it hard to believe all these strangers come together via anonymously posted ads and end in 100% satisfaction. I think I'm just lucky all my experiences have.
| Not Living in a Studio Anymore | 11:52 PM |
A close friend of mine recently said, Kitty Kat...it's time you move into a bedroom now. Seriously. Yeah, yeah.
Every night this week I've run through the same ritual -- come home from work, walk through the entire flat to make sure there are no murderers or thieves hiding in any of the rooms, get a drink and go to bed (not to sleep but to watch tv or work on my laptop until I pass out). This is my version of moping. I don't want to see anyone or talk to anyone. I just want to be in my bed.
The other night this same friend (after I told him how I'd been spending my nights) said, Oh I get it -- you're in the living room because you're pretending you still live in a studio apartment! You moved into a studio with "extra" closet space! Actually I moved into a two bedroom flat.
Every time I come up the stairs to my flat, I think ahead to how I have to walk through the entire place before I can get comfortable. But I realized that I must've done the same thing in my last place -- it's just that all I had to do then was to walk through the living room to the bathroom and I had seen the entire place. I'm not more anxious here; a two bedroom place just requires more walking through :)
| How We know We're Getting Old... | 1:08 AM |
The father of my son called me the other day and told me this hilarious story. So he was at the gas station/diner/liquor store early in the morning one day -- he travels a lot for work so probably gas station -- and this young chick in her early 20s wearing a tiny little mini skirt and looking like she'd been up all night drinking and partying starts chatting him up asking about his tattoos and stuff. And he's thinking, hey, yeah, I've still got it...rock on when she asks him if he has any sons.
Um yeah
Can I have their number?
Yeah, well, he's 14
Yeah, can I have his number?
Uh, no...he's fourteen.
I didn't have the heart to tell him our child was 15. Though to be fair, he couldn't been 14 when the event actually occurred.
My son's father is charismatic -- he could always talk to the ladies, so I don't doubt that this little young thing saw potential in him as a sire of fine young sons she'd like to meet. But you know you're getting old when you cease to have potential as a mate, but the fruit of your loins sure looks interesting.
And he's not the only one getting older. It's fascinating to me to see how my body is changing -- all these years, I foolishly thought I was safe from all the bad things that happen to women's bodies as they get older, but gosh, was I wrong. This last year has been especially enlightening in this regard. Weight that I used to drop easily is much more tenacious. And exercise which I never used to get enough of -- is becoming more and more of a pain in the butt to make time and energy for. My body is more tired, my feet ache, I want more sleep.
But for all that, I can't complain about getting older. At least no one's asking me for my daughters' phone numbers yet ;)
| Bay to Breakers 2008 | 12:30 AM |
Photos on flickr.com/sfkat:
| Another Reason I'm a Girl | 10:07 PM |
Another Bay to Breakers under our belts -- this year is my boyfriend's first. I think Tucker's first, too. I spent the day entirely too sober. In fact, half way through I was thinking to myself that I never wanted to do this again.
This is one of my favorite costumes (seen early in the day):
Tucker was trashed, and Ed was trashed and sans his wife. Normally Ineke keeps him occupied and happy, and without her, he's a little boy. The boys got into a tussle at one point and even when I know they're messing around, I can't stand to watch it -- I can't stand the idea that someone might get hurt. Tucker kept telling me what a good mommy I was the entire trip and I thought oh god...I've devolved to this...mommying my male friends.
This year there were a couple of nasty episodes -- perhaps every year there is ugliness and I've never noticed before because I've been intoxicated. It makes sense that tens of thousands of drunk people must result in some nastiness. But it turned me off to the whole thing. But next year will roll around and I'm sure I'll forget and we'll be here again, in our dirty bathrobes, walking up the hill with a bunch of drunks and the giant floats they're pushing into our ankles. (Pictures to come shortly).
| One of the boys | 12:45 AM |
My boyfriend works on a ship so he comes and lives with me for a month at a time. We've been together eight months but have only been in the same country for just over 11 weeks in total.
One of the things I realized on his last trip was that one of the reasons I fight relationships is because I want to keep being one of the guys. I don't want my boyfriend to take my place in my circle of guy friends! I don't want to miss hanging out with them because he's hanging out with them. I don't like the idea that guys night out will actually only be for guys and not include me anymore.
The other thing I realized was that I'm being slowly edged out of the guy group whether I have a boyfriend or not. And after thinking about it for a while I realized that it's been happening for a while now and I'm ok with it. I like hanging out with the girls -- I actually prefer them. I was out with the boys one night last week and it was 3 of them and me (including my boyfriend) and they were talking about their bachelor party weekend and whatnot and I was bored! Partly because I'd heard all the stories before, but partly because there were no other women to goof on the men with me or to counter with bachelorette party stories with.
I don't know why it is that as I get older I care more about my clothes and my earrings and my makeup and making aprons and photo albums and pretty little table settings. Good god, if I'd known this was what I'd turn into when I was 17, I probably would've cried my little heart out and tried to extinguish myself. But here I am, 17 years later and I'm having fun. And I'm a girl, goddamnit, a real honest to god girl and I never would have guessed it, but I like it.
