I’m just realizing the whole Christmas thing is over already. Thankfully. Sadly.

Okay, there’s still New Year’s to get through, and that’s a whole other kettle of fish, but the bulk of it is gone. Charlie and I both stayed home this year, no December travelling for the first time, and there were lists and lists of things we wanted to do, some of which we got to, some we didn’t. (I really really really will get myself over to the concerts in St. Louis Cathedral and/or the caroling next year. Really truly.)

It all culminated in an Orphan’s Christmas Eve feast- a dinner party for wonderful friends whose families are also miles away. Charlie took the theme to heart and went into full on Dickens mode, making a scrumpcious goose with fruit stuffing and suchlike (tho no figgy pudding, thankfully). I intended to take pics of the goose before it got gobbled, but I was nicely buzzed on wine and company, so there ya go.

After Christmas Day’s Annual Low Key Open House thrown by our wonderful neighbors and a day of recovery we went and saw some of the holiday stuff Downtown and crossed off a few more “we have to get to”s around town.

It was meant to end in a lovely dinner at Antoine’s Hermes bar, but that was packed. We scaled down to Arnaud’s bistro, Remoulade, but they were closing by the time we got there. So dinner, for those brave of us to accept the mission, was an honest-to-god Lucky Dog with the works.

Ug:

Note there are only boys in that picture. The ladies wisely took a pass.

So that’s that. Christmas 2009 in the bag, for better or worse. Lots of all the stuff you’re supposed to have, and little of the stuff everybody hates. And yet I find myself in a bit of a post-holiday slump. This was the first year in a long time I really participated and wasn’t just a bah-humbug, largely because the business is gone, I think. I used to have to shop constantly, so more holiday buying just made me nuts, and Christmas also started the roller coaster of Carnival season, so to say I was distracted is an understatement.

I guess this is the first real event that’s made me acutely aware of the business’ loss on a day-to-day, nuts and bolts level. Bittersweet, as always. I’m very happy to not be pouring over catalogs, scrying for clues as to what kind of season it’s going to be, laying in supplies, and making even more of a mess than I do usually. Mostly I’m very happy about it all.

Sometimes I just have to remind myself of that.

The dozens of boxes of leftover inventory were hauled out of storage, organized, thousands of items individually priced and set up for a massive garage sale (actually held in our front parlors) that spanned 2 weekends. Friends were enlisted/enslaved, Charlie’s patience sorely tested (but rewarded- with some of the proceeds I bought him a much drooled over Kindle for his b-day) and the wine (not to mention whine) flowed.

The dogs were confused. Well, Sammy was anyway- Bruiser took the opportunity to go dumpster diving in bags and boxes to find anything stuffed to steal and destroy, and the bigger the better:

The sale itself was fun, especially since we were primarily an online business- I never got to see people playing with the stuff we sold, and that was really nice. We sold a little over half- not bad, considering that a high percentage of the stock was out of season Mardi Gras decorations.

I donated what was left to charity; it was just picked up a few hours ago. Mostly I’m glad to see it go… all those boxes took up as much emotional/mental space as physical, and closure (trite tho it may be) is a very good thing.

But…well. You know.

Anyway.

Next?

I was already over it, really. I’d started out going through things very carefully, but after a while I just started putting piles and piles ‘o crap on the curb- and some of it was actual stuff with worth (slightly damaged merch, many plastic containers etc), and some was literally garbage. The most worthless thing that got put out was actually meant for the trashcan, but I forgot to toss it. It was a package of 4 light bulbs that had gotten squashed- through the clear plastic packaging you could see it was just a bunch of broken glass.

Somebody took it anyway. Somebody took everything. Every. Single. Thing. All in all, I guess there were several hundred items, from 8ft metal shelving units down to teeny tiny pouches of Mardi Gras confetti, but there were a couple of oddball items people got really excited about.

The plastic hand I used to stage some of the product photos? There was a fight over it. Seriously. Yelling, in front of the house about who saw it first until one of them just snatched it and took off.

And as happy as I was that this stuff was going to get some kind of a second chance at life, that maybe it’d be used by someone else (though I’m not sure what sort of edification the crackhead found in “Quickbooks: The Official Guide” ), I started to get aggravated when random strangers began stopping me as I went in the house, wanting to know when I’d be putting more stuff out. Like, specifically- what time? And was there going to be anything “good?”

The chick who lost out on the hand was particularly grating. She seemed to think the hand had a mate somewhere inside I was just holding out on her. She came back for days afterward and kept asking me if I was sure I didn’t have another one.

So just as I got to the point of feeling like no good deed goes unpunished, this appeared on my doorstep:

Okay, it’s filthy – but it’s brand new- the tag’s still on the collar! And, well, it’s a little something, isn’t it? A little Karmic prize in return for my neighborhood donation? Someone came along, found something useful on the curb, and like a little Sarcasm Fairy left this on my stoop before flitting away into the night, taking with him, oh…I don’t know. Maybe the gross of condoms that was out there that night? Or maybe it was the world’s ugliest doll?

Whatever it was, I hope he was happy with the trade. I know I am.

The honest answer, really, varies widely. But generally, and in the interest of brevity, the answer is: fine. It’s not a very descriptive response, but it’s what I’ve got. Fine: trying to get on with it. Sometimes succeeding, sometimes not, but I’ll lean back, put on my beret and squint through my Gauloise to say, “that is life, mon ami, no?”

The business is shut, the phones turned off and the unsold inventory in storage. Alison’s winding down from High School/winding up for college and enjoying her autonomy as she earned her driver’s license last week and is now tooling all over town on her own.

So what’s supposed to be filling these voids is writing, and that’s been problematic. I’m having a hard time reconnecting with my projects-in-process, but I have joining a writing group on livejournal, which Charlie finds a little maddening~ I should be really writing, not doing a series of short essays, etc~ but that’s okay. Cathartic, even. It’s making me let go of my writing and let others read it, something I’m notoriously bad at.

So we’ve compromised. I’m going to stay in the group, and he’s going to keep pushing me to get back down to business.

Oh. Right. That’s not much of a compromise. Thanks for pointing that out. I’m also supposed to crosspost the writing group stuff on the blog, because if my reason for joining it is to let people read it, then do it. One of those pieces will follow this post.

So. Let’s take stock.
Let go of the business.
My daughter.
The stress.
My daughter.
Control of my writing.
Did I mention my daughter?
Control of pretty much everything, really.

Does that about cover it? Yes?

I have been assured that all this letting go would bring a feeling of release and happiness. I’m sure it’ll be coming along at any moment. I haven’t seen signs of it yet, but it must be out there- everybody says so.

In the meantime, I’m fine. Really. Hope you’re not sorry for asking.

The answer is ‘sort of.’ It turns out they do have a Mature Audience section, but there are a bunch of restrictions, the biggest pains being no paypal allowed, and higher fees (surprise!).

BUT….(butt?) it’s amazing how much you can get away with as long as you wink and call the item a “health aid” or somesuch. As long as it’s not lifelike and veiny, they don’t wanna know.

In the spirit of public awareness, I decided to post this product of my research, a video that was embedded right in an ebay listing for a “Body Massage Massager Vibrating Vibrator Health Care.” Right.

My favorite part is the background music, which sounds like it should be in a really upbeat Ken Burns documentary. (BTW- this is NOT graphic at all, but after it’s done, the related videos are definitely NSFW)

I had a very different idea of what “prom” was, even though I blew my own off. Growing up in the era of John Hughes movies it always seemed like PROM, not prom.

Apparently, at McGehee, it’s clearly more of the latter. After much running around, Alison chose a not-exactly-prom-dressy prom dress, and flats. Flats! It’s hard for me to wrap my head around, since it wasn’t so long ago that the higher the heels, the more she adored the shoes. She’s a quick learner.

(Kindly please ignore the office mess around her…click for bigger version)

But we did have some John Hughes-style drama when her date canceled around 11am. She was upset, but not crazed- apparently, again, prom. It seems that at this girl’s school, the boys are more of an afterthought.

The whole prom seemed like an afterthought- they forgot about the Queen’s tiara and bought a $5 Hello Kitty toy crown…but that one Alison couldn’t stand for, especially since she’s friends with the (correctly) presumed Queen. A proper tiara and scepter set was obtained from our inventory, and eventually much oohed and ahhed over.

But in the end, prom was supposed to run until 10:30… by 10 everyone had gone and they were just cleaning up…and there wasn’t much to clean up. It was all pretty low key- I saw no limos, no over-the-top dresses, nothing to say this was a big deal at all.

I haven’t decided if I think this is a good thing or not. Taken on its own, it probably is, but I can’t help but think that overall, “Pretty in Pink” was a better message than “Gossip Girl.”

One of our most wonderful customers, the Queen of the Wild Roses, leads a group of Red Hat Ladies, and I have to say that I have never, ever seen such a glorious group of women.

I love everything about this picture- the lovely table full of nibblies, the tire leaning against the chair, the heels, the ever-so-pleased looks on their faces- all of it!

But for me the two things that take the cake are:
1) The glitter cigarette holder

and
2) The GARAGE. It is all so perfect. Could there possibly be a better illustration to prove that you define the space you occupy, not the other way around?

The aim is to get the donation up to a round 1mil and they’ve got Cafe Press Diskworld tees and suchlike.

The Sun has a great interview with him as well.

I also learned about http://folding.stanford.edu/ , a project run by Stanford University that asks this question:

What happens if proteins don’t fold correctly?

Diseases such as Alzheimer’s disease, Huntington’s disease, cystic fibrosis, BSE (Mad Cow disease), an inherited form of emphysema, and even many cancers are believed to result from protein misfolding. When proteins misfold, they can clump together (“aggregate”). These clumps can often gather in the brain, where they are believed to cause the symptoms of Mad Cow or Alzheimer’s disease.

So the program uses your computer’s CPU power when you’re not. You just choose a username and download a tiny program and off it goes, manipulating protein molecules in the background.

Bonus: it’s kind of hypnotizing to watch it at work.

YES, nosy-pants, I actually do. ThatVixen is up to almost 2,500 products, thank you very much, and it has been most educational.

I have to say that my new venture has resulted in many interesting conversations and showing off of catalogs over drinks. For this alone it’s been well worth it.

The flip side of this is my daughter. The only people I’ve really told about the venture are those I’m pretty sure will find it more amusing than horrifying. Alison, however, has been dropping comments at school for the shock factor- this is about the swinger’s club I deliver to- she doesn’t even know about the site yet.

Understand that she goes to a tony, private all-girl school where the always perfectly made up moms in tennis whites already wonder why this kid’s maid is always dropping her off. I can just imagine what they think now.

And I have to admit that it makes me snicker just a little bit…even though I’d really prefer Alison keep it to herself.

I thought I’d bring you a few highlights after the jump. It’s mildly NSFW, and certainly NSFDC (Not safe for delicate constitutions), so consider yourself warned.

Some of the products are kind of inexplicable- why on earth would people pay for this? Doesn’t it seem like a little too much work, a little too much hardware? Let’s not even discuss cleaning things up afterward…

But, oh boy, they do have fun with the names. For instance…

The Gushy Tushy, whose description is:

Liquid filled masturbator slides up and down for a realistic feel. Includes free sample of lube.

Realistic feel? Uh, honeybunch, if you consider a bunch of liquid sloshing around to be ‘natural,’ you might wanna see a doc.

Actually, there’s a whole world of supposedly realistic male masterbatory accessories. Maybe it’s sexist, but I had assumed that it was a fairly simple process for guys.

Apparently I was uninformed. I give you “Crystal’s Salsa Shaker:”

This latina is shaking with her sumptuous soft touch ultra-soft beautifully detailed butt with ribbed sleeve. Includes spanish and english translations.

Translations? Wow! Must be pretty hightech stuff!

All of these pale to the false advertising that is the full on sex doll. Other than obviously joke ones I’d never seen one before.

The boxes are damn impressive. Take this one:

Wow, right? I mean…you know…he’s stacked. Sure, he’s vinyl and all, but you’ve gotta wonder if you’re tough enough to handle the “super hung black stud with realistic vibrating penis.”

The only problem with this is that the photo size is pretty small- too small for people to get a good luck at those lucious goods before they shell out $60.00, right?

So I did a search to see who else might have a larger photo of the hunk. Talk about disappointing. Here’s the “stud” all blown up:

Okay, somebody’s just not trying here. Couldn’t they at least make the “super hung” part of the stud the same color as the rest of him? The arms look bizarre, but I suppose that’s the effect of his massive muscles. And does he have lipstick on?

So, yeah. Educational. Fun, even.

This is how I feel- and my assistant even more so- after dealing with eBay.

They keep jacking up their rates while reducing the reasons to pay them. They’re so busy trying to keep buyers happy that they’ve forgotten that SELLERS are their customers as well- in fact, we’re the ones who pay them. And we do pay- a lot.

The average eBay sale costs me between 15-23% of the overall price, between store fees, listing fees, closing fees, Paypal fees… ay yi yi.

And, frankly- (and here I don’t mean YOU, of course. You’re perfect. I’m talking about a small but vocal percentage of the others) eBayers are pains in the ass. They think I’m running a garage sale, not a business.

I can’t tell you how many emails I’ve gotten that go, “I saw your brand new in package elaborate hand sewn costume complete with dress, leggings, wings and an elf to fit it to my own personal body, and I’d love to buy it, but I am NOT paying $20 for it! But if you’ll take $3 and ship it to me free, I’ll be happy to take it off your hands.”

We’re professional about it. We’ve gotten so good at being nice to those types it’d make you puke. We’ve got 100% positive feedback and try to keep everyone happy as a matter of course.

And, to be fair, we’ve dealt with many more wonderful people than not- but those NOTS are really time consuming, so we’re getting out of the pool.

But if you’ve bought something from us via eBay- first off, thank you- I’m sure you were a lovely and absolutely phenomenal person to deal with!

But I feel better already. Thanks for letting me rant:)