Okay. So yeah. Ummm. I have a bit of stuff.

Oh, wait. It has been pointed out to me, by me and EVERYONE ELSE ON EARTH, that this could possibly be considered an understatement.

OK. So. I have some stuff.

Argh. Fine.

I HAVE COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF STUFF SURROUNDING ME EVERYWHERE AT ALL TIMES FOREVER.

Does that cover it?

I am absolutely convinced that you spend all of your twenties slowly amassing an extensive collection of socially-deemed necessary accessories for adult life, followed by the requisite turning-thirty crisis that eventually leads you to realize that you neither need nor want the assortment of toasters, screwdrivers, linens, concert ticket stubs, books, books, books, modular shelving, citrus juicers, ceramic ornaments and gently-used exercise equipment, which now makes your living space resemble the next episode of TLC's Hoarders. AND THEN YOU SPEND THE REST OF YOUR LIFE IN THERAPY TRYING TO EMOTIONALLY DETACH YOUR SENSE OF SELF WORTH FROM MATERIAL GOODS AND REFRAME THIRTY YEARS OF NORTH AMERICAN CONSUMER INDOCTRINATION SO THAT YOU ARE ABLE TO CLEAR A PATH FROM YOUR BEDROOM TO THE FRONT DOOR OF YOUR HOUSE WITH THE HOPES OF ONE DAY SEEING SUNLIGHT AGAIN.

Ummm. I mean, then you spend the rest of your life trying to get rid of things you don't need anymore.

Okay. Obviously I am not all the way through the adulthood-onset crisis and corresponding therapy.

Which brings me to Operation Desert Stuff.

First of all, I should point out the cleverness in the naming scheme. Operation Desert Stuff. Get it? GET IT? Desert ST-uff ... like Desert ST-orm, but I switched the -orm for an -uff ... GET IT? And get how I switched the meaning of the word 'desert' from a noun meaning a dry, barren area of land to a verb meaning to abandon? So, like, I am abandoning my stuff? GET IT?

Also, in case you got confused (and subsequently excited), it's not Operation Dessert Stuff. There aren't any pastries or cookies or triple-layer chocolate cakes or cerises flambée or buttercream icing involved.

Mmmmmmm .... buttercream icing and chocolate cake.

Wait. I got confused. And somewhat excited. What am I talking about again?

Oh, right, left home, went to college, got married, got a lot of stuff that the world told me I needed and that I told me I couldn't get rid of, turned thirty, had a crisis, went to therapy and now I am cleaning my house. And I made a logo, to prove that I am successfully going to work up to parting with the fourteen casserole dishes I got as bridal shower gifts.

Argh. Fine. I made the damn logo because I was procrastinating. Well, that and because this task is essentially on par with the committment, resources, and manpower required for a small military operation.

So. First stop, the office.

Argh. FINE.

First stop, both sides of the office:

I think I officially have enough pictures like this ...

And this ...

And this ...

And this ...

... to officially introduce a new section to the site. Welcome to Idiot Boy's Spot O' the Day, also known as "What is the Big Cat lying on/in/under now?" As you can see, all images include his signature "What?" look.

And, now, for today's offical Idiot Boy's Spot O' the Day ...

As always, look included for free.

I was at the bank yesterday, and when I came out my mind was, in the eternal words of my dear teammate Charles There-is-an-overabundance-of-Zs-and-Ws-in-my-last-name-combined-with-an-entirely-insufficient-number-of-vowels-making-it-impossible-for-anyone-using-a-Latin-based-alphabet-to-pronounce-without-their-head-imploding, blown.

This can't be right ...

They can't really have made TWO 1997 Ford Escort Wagon LX Editions in Aquamarine Frost, could they have?

I mean, Aquamarine Frost isn't just a vat o' paint. Aquamarine Frost is a STATEMENT. It's a statement that can really only be made once. It's a statement that says "I am one of a kind! I am unique! I am special! There's only one of me! Except not!"

I am actually still sitting in the parking lot trying to figure out how to get around the giant mirror so I can get back into my car and come home.

Week 10 - July 24

Summary: Slim pickings today, but I was on a mission. My job was to find something AMAZING for my new BFF enjoiElise. Our entire friendship is premised on the assumption that I will teach her to spell "enjoy" properly one day. Oh, and that I procure her WICKED items at garage sales. (Since she is busy selling shirts with tassles to cowboys at the mall on weekends, she must garage sail vicariously through me).

I got her a GROOVY lighter with a giraffe print on it. It was very expensive. This proves my loyalty.

The tally:

• Pine Box ($1)
• Razzmatazz MEC shirt (25 cents)
• Carabiner (free)
• German novel ($1)
• Giraffe lighter (free)

Total: $2.25

Week 10 - July 24 continued ...

Okay, now, this technically doesn't fall under garage sailing finds, but it is critical information that needs to be mentioned. After finishing up in people's driveways for the day, we headed down to the flea market for more digging around.

Brand new Black & Decker toaster over for five bucks. Photo box that matches one I already own for a quarter. But the pièce de résistance ...

So, I am digging around in the back shelves of the flea market, trying to find some matching handles for a dresser, when I hear Jay behind me ask "Hey, do you know what this is?"

I turn and IMMEDIATELY start hyperventilating. Do I know what this is? DO I KNOW WHAT THIS IS? It's an ICE CRUSHER!

I have been looking for one of these for, quite literally, years. Growing up, back in the days where fridges didn't dispense water, crush your ice and do your homework, my parents would use this hand-held, nutcracker-like tool to crush ice for, among other things, gin and tonics on a hot summer's evening.

And now, in the day where I am poor amateur athlete who doesn't own a fridges that dispenses water, crushes ice and does your homework, but who DOES drink gin and tonics (hey, family tradition!), I have tried everything from blenders to rolling pins to automobiles looking for quick, effective way to break up ice cubes for my drinks. And nothing works as well as this stupid little galvanized aluminum trinket. Well, except maybe a fridge with an ice crusher built in.

But now ... NOW!

Week 11 - July 31

Summary: It was one of those small, but quality weekends. There were only a few sales out there, but I'm feeling pretty positive about my purchases. And yes. Even that 1980s-coloured-sewing-box-which-I-will-use-as-a-toolbox. Y'all can't shake me, with your "Oh, look the handles are pink."

It's not pink. It's Wild Strawberry.

The tally:

• 1980s-coloured-sewing-box-which-I-will-use-as-a-toolbox ($6)
• SÄG messenger bag ($1)
• The Incredibles DVD ($1)
• Desk drawer organizing tray (25 cents)

But WAIT! That's not all ... the find of the week ... an IKEA pong chair and footstool, which I bartered (if not with a certain amount of trickery .... ) down to a steal at ten bucks.

• IKEA Pong chair and footstool ($10)

Total: $18.25

Week 12 - August 7

Summary: With visitors in town, I still manged to sneak out and get my weekly fix ...

The tally:

• Marco Pierre White pot ($1)
• Glitterry teal honeycomb wax candles (25 cents)
• Scarf ($1)

Total: $2.25

Week 13 - August 14

Summary: Only went to one garage sale today. In my front yard. And trust me, I wasn't interested in buying a single thing ...

Week 14 - August 21

Summary: After a few weekends spent packing, organizing, purging and moving, I was back on the streets, with plenty of panache. Seeing as I just spent a great deal of time and energy fretting over the amount of STUFF in my life, I am trying to be a little more diligent and vigilent about the items that enter the Bartcave.

Bwahahahhhhahahahahahhahahahah.

Truth was, the prices were dirt cheap this week ...

The tally:

• Silver whiteboard for fridge notes (10 cents)
• Spaghetti scoop (10 cents)
• Wooden rice spatula (10 cents)
• Cookie spatula (10 cents)
• Two water bottle ice cube trays (25 cents)
• Bottle of liquid turtle wax (25 cents - talked him down from 50 cents)
• Silver plated tray ($1)
• Two pillow shams (free)
• Bumblebee hat pin (25 cents)

Total: $2.15

My find of the week was this tiny bumblebee hat pin ...

This is my cat, whose official name is Schrödinger, but who is better known as Big Cat (as opposed to Little Cat), or also, on a regular basis, as Idiot Boy. In general he eats a lot, lies around a lot waiting to eat, meows about not having enough to eat, and, when he is really feeling up to it, looks at me affectionately and rubs my legs ... hoping he'll get something eat from all that effort.

In summary, he is a cat.

Big Cat has a history of escaping the house, and disappearing into the woods for days at a time. In Squamish, that is a feline death sentence. The bears, cougars, coyotes, eagles and even raccoons in general have the upper hand (I know this from experience ... RIP Psycho ... ).

I have seriously mourned Idiot Boy's impending death at least three times already. Although, in doing so, he has certainly lived up to his name ... no idea if the damn cat is dead or alive, just a bigger box and no poison concoctions ...

But a couple weeks ago, after having escaped out the back door yet again, he came trotting up a few hours later, explanation of his continued survival in the Squamish wild in mouth ...

... which, after waiting for the poor thing to croak, he proceeded to completely devour, leaving behind a tail and a few feet.

All of the sudden I had a newfound, if not slightly nauseated, respect for Big Cat.

Mouse. It's what's for lunch.