Wednesday, February 8, 2012

I own a lot of crap

I tried to decrease my clutter today and increase my income by selling some of my used CDs to The Beat Goes On. Apparently if I don't want them, neither does anyone else.  Despite the brightly lit neon sign in the window of the store that said "Wanted Used CDs."

It was a bit depressing watching the staff person go through the stack and keep piling them in the pile that they didn't want. I sold 7. Out of about 50.  I got a grand total of *drum roll please* $10.

Whoop Whoop.

Depressing I tell you.

The funniest part about it, was one of those was Hilary Duff.  Really!?  People actually WANT Hilary Duff?  I had The Tragically Hip in there.  And Aerosmith.  And other stuff that's far more reputable than Hilary Duff.

Apparently, (CLEARLY) at some points in my life I have had far too much money.  Obviously, that is not the case now.

I'm going to try again though.  I refuse to believe that all of it is useless, and that no one else in the world might possibly want it.  Some of the CDs they didn't take are options for posting on Amazon Marketplace, so I'm going to give that a shot.  It doesn't cost me anything and maybe someone out there is looking specifically for that particular CD.  And The Beat Goes On just doesn't know it.  It's not ALL crap.  I swear it's not.

*sings "I swear... by the moon and the stars in the sky... "

Monday, February 6, 2012

Random lamentation

I lament the days past when I had millions of ideas, when I could sit down and write a story in an afternoon.  I miss the feeling of finding a conclusion to a story that wanted to be told.

But now, I find that while the ideas are there, they struggle to reach the surface.  And rarely to they reach any kind of climax or conclusion.  They just putter around in my brain, waving, teasing, making me think they'll come to play.  Unless they're lucky enough to escape through the pen, and even then, they don't seem to find an ending.

A hundred voices, screaming to be heard through ink and reality, but never to reach their destiny between the pages of a book.


Why must marketing to one demographic mean the alienation of all others?

Case in point: I can't be the only person who thinks the Potty Dance commercials are the most annoying ads ever.  And while I freely admit that I have no children, nor do I feel like I ever want any, I just can't see how those ads entice parents to buy a particular type of diaper. (Please note that I don't even know what brand of diaper they're advertising - not doing a very good job of name recognition, are they?)

Personally, I would probably intentionally not buy that brand, hoping that they'd realize it was a stupid marketing concept and take it off the air.  I wouldn't hold my breath, but I would hope.  Maybe they'd try a new concept.

But maybe I'm just different.  Maybe no one else thinks this way.

How would I know?  I'm just me.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Can anyone see me!?!?

I felt totally overlooked all day today.  Like that chair that you know is in a room, but you don't really give much thought to, unless it's in your way?  I don't really know what the deal was.  It was just a really ooky feeling, and it made me angry.

And I'm feeling like a pity-party is coming on, so the rest of this week has to go by pretty quick, because the pity-party can't hit until the weekend.  Once I'm holed up inside my own place then I can feel sorry for myself.  But it's very difficult when you're dealing with customers and co-workers to deal with the pity.

In other news, I heard on the radio this afternoon that Leslie Carter died.  The sister of Nick and Aaron Carter.  She was only 25.  And she had a 10month old daughter.  It's just so sad.  That family, despite the fame, or possibly because of it, has not had a good luck.

This video isn't particularly apropos, but other than the House of Carters reality show, it's the only thing I can find for Leslie.  Besides, it's cute.  So why shouldn't she be remembered, at least partially for something fun. (Also, the quality really sucks.)  This was how I first heard of Leslie Carter.