Looky-loo. Look who decided to come back and post something.
While I’ve not been here, I’ve been in training. I’m in training to become the best nomadic blogger ever. In 3 simple steps, you too can become the best nomadic blogger ever. Here’s how…
3 steps to becoming the best nomadic blogger ever:
- Release material possessions. I’ve been tossing and selling off everything. I’m astounded at how the piles that have grown around me. Learnings…
- I’ve got a new hate for Craigslist. Not the site, but the lame visitors who say they will show up to buy your stuff and then they don’t show. Madness!
- I will never buy stupid shit ever again. This process of decluttering has made me realize just how much time and money I spent on stupid shit. I wish I would have realized this earlier. I would have been able to quit my job earlier.
- Every item I’ve ever brought into my house must now be dealt with. I know I purchased some items just for the merriment of doing so. I was so unhappy in corporate life that buying pretty trinkets was a way to placate my mood. Now those trinkets are sitting in a heap out by the recycle bin.
- My alley is picked over all day long. I take a load of thrift store items to the alley and whoosh the vultures swooped in and take it away. One less errand. Sure, I miss out on the tax write-off, but I’m not making an income this year anyway.
2. Take a few test runs. I’ve become a tourist of my own town this month (See below). I’ve went to the skate park in Venice, the Fashion District downtown, hiking and to yoga. I’ve tried out my travel wardrobe and chucked what didn’t work. Sadly, my Converse will not make the final cut.
3. Do drastic things. Well, sort of drastic. Drastic-ish.
- I told my housekeeper of eight years that I was leaving. It didn’t go over well.
- Toss photos. Even cute ones. If I have it electronically, I have it. No need to schlep it. Thank God for cloud computing.
- Let my friend have my guitar until I come back. My guitar alone in a new house?! Ugh.
- Say goodbye for good. When someone says, “We’ll have to get together again before you leave” I say, “No. I’m good.” We’re done here. I don’t exactly say that but sometimes I wish I could.
- Buy the plane tickets. Holy frig.
A few highlights of me being a tourist of my own town: