I seem to have some gravitational field (beyond my obesity) which attracts useful stuff (at best), other people's crap, and random shit. (Feeling descriptive and fecal today, give me a break).
Over the past three years "She Who Must Be Obeyed" has campaigned for getting rid of much of my stuff - and over the past three weekends she's been winning. The dude at Getrichslowly is also getting rid of his accumulation of crapola.
I've been freecycling and craigslisting stuff consistently - and with the wedding coming up there's a newfound need for space: our wedding supplies are growing a small city in the back room where my stuff formerly resided. The wedding supplies are like the college students and hipsters invading the Mission and my crappy old computer parts, Airzooka, slingshot, clothes (from fatter and skinnier days), Zune, boxes of papers, a store demo tent (which was awesome, but too fucking small to be useful and too big to justify keeping), and other shit can't afford the rent anymore.
Yeah, my back room is the Mission without the tapas, Indian food (Alhamra!), Tacos, and music scene.
It's odd what people are into:
(1) Canon S3 camera to girl with short hair and cool messenger bag who's headed to Germany
(2) Zune to former wanna be frat guy who turned into an ecomodder and now drives a hip little Geo Metro XFI (50+ mpg)
(3) Tent to wacky lady from Moraga or some such - she was the most excited
(4) TV still looking for a home
(5) Laptop that can't charge, IBM server box, and years of computer parts to Alameda Tech Recycling (gave me a $1500 donation form for taxes, cool I suppose) - their warehouse is amazing, I actually started salivating a little which they said is common as a woman in her 40's offered me her shop rag to wipe my chin. No, not really, but it was awesome.
(6) Two 3G ipods (one broken) sold on eBay for $100
(7) Many bar exam materials sent to a friend for $100 - she's going to pass and is too damn earnest and pleasant to deserve anything bad from the world
(8) Motorcycle locks to guy with Tecate in his car's cupholder (good luck fella - you might be the real Lebowski) My motorcycle was stolen soon thereafter (not because I got rid of the locks, I'd never used them for the year I've had the bike - rather because it was lent to a friend in SF where motorcycles apparently disappear more easily than in Oakland).