After throwing myself off a cliff the other day due to reading the nanny postings on Craigslist (“Little Angles Nanny Service,” anyone?), I was reincarnated as a dung beetle who is doomed to go to the post office every day for the rest of her life. Tomorrow I will go and cast a “Yoga for Your Pregnancy” DVD into the abyss. I can’t say I ever managed to do any of that yoga. Putting on pants becomes entertainment enough at a certain point.
But anyway, what was I talking about? Oh yeah. Craigslist is full of the little creatures of nature. And the occasional salacious outing of a wealthy family who stiffed the nanny. I’ve given up on ever selling anything with Craigslist, because one can post all salient details and a photo and still get an email reading “Hi! I want to buy your item! How much is it? How big is it? Will you bring it to my house? What were you selling, anyway?” Of course there are many more misspellings in the actual email. So I’m trying eBay and Half.com to purge our home of useless clutter and Mr. H’s awful CD collection from before he knew me. People ask all sorts of questions on eBay as well, it turns out. Apparently I must not have written my listing in Australian*, as someone wants to me to sort out the cost of shipping. Clearly, I can do this with much more panache than the shipping calculator link at the top of the page. People are so starved for love and attention these days. Let’s heal together.
*I responded pitifully, with the help of the Outback menu: It’ll be a dinkely doo bonzer right Thunder From Downunder $18.75 American dawlahs.
I prefer large angles in a nanny.
I did manage to sell my scooter there… only took about two weeks of emailing back and forth with people. Including one who just wanted to write and say it was a nice bike, although they didn’t need one. But they sure did like it.