has it really come to this?

I have been swimming in a sea of suck.

Among other things, I have put my precious, perfect (but for the location) gem of a house on the market. This leaves me with a collection of feelings that are so jumbled and sloppy that I'll not begin to try and iterate them in this particular forum. I'm sure you have other things to do. Like send money to Barack Obama. Do it. Now. I'll wait...

***Thanks for doing your part. You won't be sorry!***

One of the reasons that I didn't just find another renter as so many well-wishing friends have suggested, is that my last experience with a tenant was pretty awful and I'm disinclined to again coordinate a tenant-landlord-property manager menage a trois from such a distance, if at all. Ever. Additionally, the regional rental market won't support my charging rent that would cover the cost of my mortgage. Therefore, even if I had a tenant, I'd be losing money. As it stands, I'm losing money because I have no tenant paying rent and am therefore now paying both rent in Seattle and a mortgage for a house in Jacksonville, Florida (the bold new city of the south).

All this is to say that my ass is broke. Broke broke broke. Add to this that I am in the 3rd or so month of my "trying to live China-free" experiment/consumer lifestyle overhaul. This is not easy. China-free Christmas is challenging. China-free shoe shopping is a nightmare unless you're willing to fork over the $350+ for those dreamy creations at A Mano or for anything made by Cydwok. Grrr. Sigh.

One thing I can do is buy whatever I'd like made in whatever country of questionable labor practices as long as its at a thrift store. Thrift stores! Hurray! So here's the point, and also the ugly -- you might want to get a cocktail; this is bad... : I've been casually on the lookout for a pair of trouser cut denim pants. Something style-y and slimming that I can wear with sassy heels and some sort of nice/cute/"damn your boobs look great in that top" top. And saints alive! there they were the other day at Value Village. In my size. And long enough. And no holes. And nothing cringe-inducing left behind in one of the pockets as is too often the case at Value Village. Perfect. And $8.99. Made in China? Yes. Do I care? Fuck no! The damage has been done. And a lady with a broken heart and a leaden spirit needs a fucking break, o.k.? O.k. So I get them home and wash them and they keep their shape and look damn fine with heels and I feel all professional and cute and it is a small victory and I will take what I can get. Then I get to wondering, where did these excellent pants come from? What under-the-radar brand name find is now giving me a little extra boost in my step.? Anthropologie? Barney's? Sway and Cake? Surely these are at least $120 pants that I was clever enough to spot in the sea of foul-smelling and questionably-still-fit-for-human consideration goods. They have French seams for godssake!

Where? Where? Where?

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Hey, universe: FUCK YOU. Thanks for kicking me while I'm down. A lady's dignity can only take so much bruising. I will now embrace my future as a full-time drunk. Well, after I stop over at J.C. Penney. I hear they're having a sale.


[Oh, and in case anyone is curious, this is my house:


http://tinyurl.com/ypohbt

She is perfect and full of incredibly good energy. You can have her for only $160,000. Yes, Seattle-ites, onehundredandsixtythousandamericandollars.]