Burlap & Satin

Hi everyone. We're undergoing a strange process in which we catalog every single item we've owned in our eight years and four residences together, rate each item on a scale of "wantability," put a paltry price on all our memories and offer it to the general public in hopes of justification for extreme capitalism and/or the cleansing of our souls.

Some might call this a "Yard Sale" but that is a title merely decreed by the location of the final event. A more accurate title for this event might be "Stuff We Don't Want but Hope That You Will Sale" or "Yes We Realize It's Old and Crappy But We Hope You Will At Least Deem It Worthy of a Quarter Sale" or the more revealing "We Spent a Month Cleaning This Shit Out of Our Storage Facility, Basement, and Garage and Tagging Every Item Individually So the Least You Can Do Is Peruse and Act Interested For a Few Minutes Without Haggling Me For an Extra Fifteen Cents Off That Old Box of Floppy Disks Please Thank You Sale." Any of these titles would be appropriate, but since the final part of this behavior ritual happens on the front lawn of your dwelling, "Yard Sale" might just be easier to remember and therefore repeat to others when seeking verification or understanding.

It is a labor intensive process often rife with soul searching and the persistent questioning of one's personal spending habits during those lean and misguided formative years. As expected, the more erratic and impractical one's financial sensibilities and the more years that pass, the more labor that is required. Additionally, when there are two people with differing spending habits and differing opinions on each memory's worth, time and labor become exponentially extended.

All of this to tell you that yes, I am still alive and no, I am not selling my X-Files t-shirt. The expensive locket from the evil high school boyfriend though? That can totally go. For a quarter.