So I have spent a good deal of time formatting, re-editing, editing and just trying not to care too much as I prepare 9 pieces of my vintage wardrobe to send off to some random stranger who outbids the others in some mad rush to be the one in possession of my once beloved goods. The auctions go up (except one that went up at 9 am, how lame) in an hour, and I have reserves set on the things I hold too dear to part with but for a large chunk o’ change. One item has a reserve of $800 (too low I might add), one has one of $250, and one holds out at just below $100. Given that I paid good money for these puppies, I figure I need to get my just desserts out of them, and some good money to boot. If they don’t meet the reserve, they, and I, I suppose, am sol. But forget it. Most of the items are at least 50 years old with the good ones hitting over 80 years old. I am having separation anxiety already, but I do hold the best pieces in my collection still, personally. So I guess I shouldn’t flip. I need to get over to Beacon’s closet and pimp out the 9 garbage bags sitting in my storage room. If I do that I cannot walk into Beacon’s for a year at least, given that your own stuff looks much better on a rack with tags on it, if you know what I mean.

A couple grand would do my poor emaciated ass very good at this point in time. And I will be the happiest, squishiest girl with my health insurance paid in advance a few months.

Anyways. Off to Craigslist to pimp my drink-slinging skills. Oh yes.