My eBay Garage Sale

This was my plan. I've got a bunch of stuff. Why don't I sell it on eBay? I'll take pictures, buy a scale so I can estimate shipping. . . put all my stuff on an eBay page, title it Edem's Garage Sale. . .people can come and browse and buy my stuff. It was a brilliant plan.

Except eBay doesn’t work that way.

You can only list 10 items at a time. And the listing time is limited.

And if you sell some but not all of your items during the listing period, it reduces the number of items you can list or re-list. That is, not only is there a 10 item list limit, you can only sell 10 items per month.

The first week I listed 10 items on eBay, I sold 3. This meant I could list 7 items the next week. I sold one from that batch. Which left me 6 slots for the next week. And so on. It's a bit confusing, I know.

Still, I was excited to sell 10 items my first month on eBay. I had listed a total of 25 – a 40% sale rate! That's pretty good, eh? (This second month, I've only sold 6 out of 18…I'm slippin'.)

The hardest part about selling on eBay is the shipping. Even with the scale, I was still over- and under- charging. I've since learned to weigh an item in its packaging before I list it.

See, anything under 13 ounces is First Class. And the packaging – even a seemingly weightless envelope – makes a difference. Not much ($3.14 vs $3.30), but I'd rather not overcharge if I can help it.

Then there's Priority Mail. The cheapest is the $5.15 flat rate envelope or small box. . .but nothing I sell is small and heavy. Then there are the rest of the flat rate boxes - $11.35 for medium, $15.45 for the large. Perfect for heavy things. But most of my stuff would go in a plain Priority box or envelope. Those start at around $5.30, with the actual price depending on weight and destination.

Of course, one doesn't know an item's destination until said item is sold.

It's a bit of an investment, selling on eBay. There's the time for taking decent photos (and the discipline not to run out and buy a fancy camera). There's describing the item – the brand, material, color, dimensions…whatever will help a buyer know what they're getting. There's buying the shipping materials.

You've gotta be motivated to keep doing this thing.

Olympic Musings

It's not too late for these, right?

About the Opening Ceremony

Hey! I know that song (Bread of Heaven). But we sing it very differently where I'm from.

Hey! It's Kenneth Brannaugh! I don't know what he's saying, but it must be Shakespeare. Because it's Kennth Brannaugh!

ONE  RING  TO  RULE  THEM  ALL

Shh! It's 80's music! Stop commentating!

We love you J. K. Rowling.

Pobre Paul. I ain't mad atcha. Bring back the Arctic Monkeys.

About the Broadcast, Etc.

DVR + NBC Prime Time = Good watching. Because I don't need to see every beach volleyball match.

Am I the only one who doesn't care about the medal count?

What do you mean this is the first time the US Olympic Team's outfits were made in China?

Lots of complaints about Ralph Lauren but no complaints about the Nike, whose gear our folks wear in the pool and on the track. None of it was made in the US, and Nike is as American as Ralph Lauren.

Oh, NBC. Why the 30 minute documentary about the Dream Team when you could've been showing us synchronized swimming? That's what I get for watching prime time coverage "live".

I am enjoying this hour of WWII history. Because I'm a nerd. But how are you going to transition from this sad to the happy of the Olympics? (Yes, NBC, I still think you should've shown synchronized swimming instead.)

About Diving

Thank you, NBC, for starting most of your prime time coverage with diving.

Is it me, or do some of the younger male divers need to pull up their trunks a bit? I'm looking at you, Tom Daly, Kristian Ibsen.

¡Viva Mexico! Who knew they were so good at this sport?

Seriously, though. I love you, Tom Daly. Please pull up your shorts.

About Women's Gymnastics

Ugh! The cameras are all up in their faces! Go away, go away (ironically, the only reason we see that the cameras are all up in the ladies faces is because   of a camera   all up   in the ladies faces.)

NBC. I know you love your super tight close up. But we do not need to see the contents a gymnast's nostril right before she does a complex run on the balance beam.

Of the people who have criticized Gabby Douglas' hair, how many of them actually know anything about black hair? Exactly. That's the sound of ignorance spouting foolishness.

Oops, my bad. Apparently quite a few know something about black hair. Great. Add trifling crabs in a barrel to my people's list of stereotypes.

I almost zipped past it. Did you see the gymnast from Bulgaria, who only does rings? Gray hair, Age 39(?), shaking hands with everyone when he got off the floor? Amazing.

About Swimming

Kromowidjojo. You know saying it makes you happy.

Michael Phelps is "The Greatest Olympian of All Time". Until Missy Franklin takes the crown.

I don't think one is great because of medal count. It is an achievement; props to Michael. But I hear the moniker and think of Dara Torres at the Beijing Olympics. Before one race, she asked an official to wait because one of her competitors wasn't ready. I think that type of sportsmanship is a better measure for determining "The Greatest Olympian".

You know a race is long when they come back from commercial and they're still swimming.

About Track & Field

What's with the fluorescent yellow shoes?

Seems like ½ the female sprinters have belly button studs.

Need ideas for baby names? Watch Olympic Track & Field. Particularly the field events.

You know it was a good year – I didn't even fast forward through the semi-finals. Only a little bit for some of the long distance races.

Closing Ceremony

Yay! George Michael! And one of my favorite songs at that!

Huh. None of the Annie Lennox/Eurythmics songs I know would've been happy enough for this occasion. Not even Sweet Dreams.

I Am The Walrus is the Beatles song everyone knows but me.

Wait. I recognize Naomi, and Kate Moss, and that lady from the WSJ magazine article who's in her 40s. But who are the other models? What are their names?

How are they gonna clear that giant octopus?

Nice Rolls, Jessie J.

Flesh colored body suit #1, with flowers – No.

Wait – there's a Vegas showgirl in the 1900s? Oh, never mind, it's Monty Python.

Play that guitar, homeboy from Queen!

Flesh colored body suit #2, with sequins – Better.

No, no, no Jessie J, don't air guitar. Don't. <sigh> Please stop.

I think someone dropped a line on Wannabe.

Wow. Rugby clubs have choirs.

Stop talking, commentators! I'm trying to watch the Brazilians dance!

Is that dude in…white face?

Is mack daddy wearing a white vinyl suit?

Ooo, has this part been Bossa Nova?

Bob Costas spent half the night talking about how The Who would be performing….and NBC never televised their set. Boo!

Federal Jury Duty

The summons declared I was on call for a week – July 2^nd through July 16^th. We were to call or check the website on July 1^st to get our reporting instructions.

On June 30^th, I received a call reminding me to check my reporting instructions the next day. The Feds don't play.

I checked for my reporting instructions on July 1^st. Not called; please check back after 5pm on July 2^nd.

I checked for my reporting instructions on July 2^nd. Not called; please check back after 5pm on July 5^th.

I checked for my reporting instructions on July 5^th. Not called; please check back after 5pm on July 9^th.

I checked for my reporting instructions on July 9^th. Not called; please check back after 5pm on July 11^th.

I checked for my reporting instructions on July 11^th. Surprise! Be at the courthouse at 8am on July 12^th!

Missed it by that much.

Challenge #1 – what to wear. San Francisco is approximately 20 degrees cooler than the Tri-Valley, where I live and work. And there would be air conditioning. What could wear so I wouldn't freeze in one place and melt in the other?

Ah, the beauty and bane of the Bay Area. Serious microclimates.

The nice thing about the West Dublin/Pleasanton BART station is that if you want to catch a 6:30am train, there's plenty of parking.

The bad thing is that the add fare/parking payment machine doesn’t take credit cards. I know. It's madness.

If you don't have cash for parking, you need to add a dollar to the ticket you buy. Then put the ticket in the parking payment machine. It'll take off the $1, and voila! You'll be squared away.

I did not realize the Asian Art museum was so close to the Civic Center Bart Station. Another field trip to plan…

Naturally, entering the federal court building is like going through security at the airport. Only you don't have to take off your shoes. And the people seem nicer.

WiFi in the courthouse. That's how you do it.

The jury administrator was fast talking, informative, and entertaining. Do you know why being summoned for federal court is better than being summoned for state court? Even if you're not picked, you still get paid for your trouble. Thank you, US Government.

There were something like 73 of us who made it into the courtroom. I could guess which jurors the attorneys would excuse. When the time came, it was like what we learned of game theory in business school – each side weighing the stated choice against the anticipated one.

I never made it to the jury box. I was a little disappointed – I've never been on a jury before – but also quite relieved. As the day wore on, it became clear how big a responsibility it is to be fair and impartial, and to listen only to the evidence presented. I could do it…but I'd worry about being imperfect.

Urban Exercise Number 42

For ladies and adventurous men

1.       Park on Beaver street in San Francisco, approximately halfway up the street

2.       Put on a pair of 4 ½ inch heels (you may want to go with wedges instead of stilettos)

3.       Walk up to Castro street, turn left

4.       Walk down to the Castro theater (yes, you must cross Market Street)

5.       Enjoy the ambiance of the theater or find someplace nummy to eat

6.       Walk back to your car (up Castro, down Beaver)

7.       Go home and go to bed

8.       Get up after a good night's sleep and feel the burn in your thighs

9.       Gingerly get out of bed and stretch your quads

10.   Continue stretching at intervals until the pain recedes or you can move without wincing

Green Lantern

That I was comfortable enough to leave for the restroom during an important piece of exposition tells you how riveting Green Lantern is.

My biggest problem was the music. When Hal Jordan is first trying to get the lantern to work, I want to giggle. I'm supposed to giggle. It's Ryan Reynolds doing what we love. But I can't because the music is off.

The scene is juxtaposing Dr. Hammond's autopsy (and infection) with Hal's attempt to power the ring. The music is great for the autopsy. I guess it works at the end of the scene, when Hal learns the oath and the lantern makes his eyes all funny. But by that point, I’m irked I didn’t get my giggle.

Was it really necessary to introduce us to Hal via a one-night stand? Would it have been that much less interesting if he was late for lateness' sake?

Blake Lively is stunning as a brunette.

Peter Sarsgaard can do no wrong. He owned that make-up, owned that role.

That close up on the face as Hal is getting his Green Lantern skin? That wasn't Ryan Reynolds. Or if it was, they did a REALLY good job of making him look like a completely different person, nose and all.

Tomar-Re does not look like a fish. He looks like a bird. Hello? He has a beak!

I enjoyed Kilowag the drill sergeant. He could care less that Hal is human.

Sinestro…his 'humans are weak and you don't deserve to be here' schtick was tiresome. You got a problem with the choice? Holler at the ring, not the recipient. Please.

Sad that Dr. Hammond is so consumed he doesn't hear Hal trying to counteract his dad's poison.

Love that Carol quickly figures out it's Hal.

Why was it important for Dr. Hammond to hear what other people thought of him? It wasn't bad, it just didn't add up in the end. If he could hear people's thoughts, then why did he fall for the ring ruse?

Okay, I see that showing us how Dr. Hammond can read memories set an important precedence. But don't choose a memory that leaves me hanging. Poor Angela! But was her husband's death related to how she came to be a scientist? Enquiring minds want to know.

I've seen enough of the Green Lantern animated series to giggle when we hear Carol's call name is Sapphire. But not enough to fully understand the ramifications. As usual, I'm backlogged on my cartoons.

I like the way the Guardians are rendered in the cartoon. In the movie, their giant brains make them look scarier, not smarter. And how can anyone see them nodding? Their chairs are so tall.

I’m as self centered as the next person, but I did not enjoy the we are awesome only a human can stop this threat message of Hal Jordan fighting alone. Yes, Carol fired the missiles to get him going, but

Maybe in the sequel he'll get to fight alongside Kilowag and Tomar-Re.

(Let's call this The Avengers Effect, shall we?)

So Sinestro's so power hungry he puts on the yellow ring, does he? And I was just getting to like him.

Here's hoping Green Lantern 2 is superior to this.

Saturday

Another day in the life.

My 11:30 cancelled, so instead of searching for parking at Peet's, I was able to read both newspapers and watch all of Young Justice and half of Green Lantern.

Which made me slightly late to the memorial service.

Alex was ~2 ½ months my senior. We answered the call to discipleship* the same Sunday. When he, declaring his desire to follow Christ and be baptized, stood, it gave me the courage to respond to the stirrings in my heart. I followed.

Now he has preceded me in death. It's not simply the shock of him being my age; this is someone I knew. An acquaintance, but I knew his name. I'd experienced his smile.

Since I was running late, I drove wearing the 2 ½ inch cork wedges that complemented my sundress. It was a good thing I put driving shoes in the car for the trip home, because by that time, blisters had formed.

Beauty Battle Score: Cute Shoes 1, Edem 0.

A bowl of cereal, a glass of water, bandages, a change into skinny jeans, a change of purse – and off to San Francisco for the screening of the film I worked on, Tell.

There was no traffic. Six o'clock on a Saturday night, and there no traffic on the approach, the metering lights weren't on. . .it was nice. I freaked out a little.

The film screened at The Castro – a hip neighborhood devoid of parking.

I felt a muscle strain as I drove uphill (I drive a stick shift) and ouch, it felt tender when I finally parked the car. Still, I changed into my other cute shoes (4 ½ inch wedges) and walked to the theater.

Downhill, of course.

Beauty Battle Score: Cute Shoes 2, Edem 0.

It was incredible to see Tell. The opening sequence was amazing (a breathless 45? seconds that took a day to shoot). The entire film flowed so nicely. I do wish I could've gotten a better shirt for one of the characters (I worked on costume, among other things). Nonetheless, I'm proud to have been a part of it.

Better than the movie was seeing the cast and crew I worked with, and other members of the Scary Cow collective I knew. I miss them. I smile thinking about them.

The casting director for Tell made her own film. Molly demonstrated the oh my awesome salesmanship of a persistent little girl. I could not stop smiling while the story unfolded. It's a rated G movie you don't have to bring your kids to. Dear Hollywood, please make some films like this. Or are you so busy with tent poles I should ask Netflix & Yahoo instead? (This film would do very well internationally, I think.)

Business Affairs: Pete & Veronica was another film I enjoyed. Simple, sweet, romantic – right up my alley. And no kissing! It's not that I'm against kissing, but the thing deserves a light touch more often than not. More like Captain America and not like Thor (Zoom out! What you do you think this is, NBC coverage of an Olympic medal ceremony?) I'm like the boy in the theatre who said "Eww! They're Kissing!" when I saw Attack of the Clones.

A day of happy, a day of grief. My Saturday.

* It is the part of the service after the sermon, where the deacons come to the front with chairs and the preacher invites anyone who will to come 1) accept Christ, 2) become of candidate for baptism, 3) re-dedicate their life to Christ. (There might be more, but that's the three I remember).

Road Trip!

Musings from my recent road trip:

Man, it takes a long time to get to Patterson!

The rest stops along Highway 99 seem nicer than along 5. No hooks on the door for the purse. Holes on the door latch for the stalls. Ugh.

I purposely left my house late and I still got to my destination early. <sigh>.

I was going to take the 101 instead of the 405, but the latter was a straight shot. It was too late to change when I saw construction.

There are signs that say, 'if you see dust while we're working, call…' What? You're digging in dirt. Why wouldn't there be dust? I mean, shouldn't there be dust?

The CHP motorcycle cop standing on the side of the road points to a car to tell it to pull over. He's not playing witchoo. Don't make him get on his bike.

Have you seen truckers drive on the highway? They are always cutting each other off. Nobody trips, either. No brake lights or anything. Crazy.

"HipHop Trucking" And you don't stop.

The Sofitel Hotel is posh. Not because it's across from the Beverly Center, or because the staff greets you in French. The food is an indicator – risotto instead of rice, crème brule so small one had to resist the urge suck it down like an oyster on the half shell. But the proof is the bathroom. Sufficiently dark to render makeup touch-ups a lost cause. Automatic flush toilets, automatic soap dispensers (foaming, bien sur) and automatic faucets. And a basket of towels, neatly rolled and stacked. Not useless finger towels; swatches of terry cloth large enough to dry both hands. Posh.

I got lost, of course. Beverly Drive is not Beverly Blvd. The Beverlywood neighborhood is quite lovely, though roundabout instructions are inane. "Through traffic keep right". Two feet later, at the stop sign, "Right lane must turn right." What?

I was late, according to my calculations, and I hate being late. Turns out I wasn't late for the first keynote speaker. I did, however, miss the yummy breakfast pastries. A berry medley had to do.

Wait, what? El Torito still exists? And there's one on Wilshire and Rodeo?