Nate sells, but who's buying?

Many people who have done RTW (that's "round the world" for those of you not hip to the lingo) trips talk about the cleansing, restorative effect of their travels. Usually, this is taken to mean that they have examined themselves and determined exactly what makes them happy, allowing them to discard pretty much everything else. Although I'm not exactly counting on it, I think it would be cool if my travels had a similar effect on me.

On the other hand, it is pretty much guaranteed that I will be "cleansed" in a different sense...namely, financially. If you think it might get expensive to spend a year flying in airplanes, riding on trains, eating at restaurants, and sleeping in hostels/hotels, then you are absolutely correct, Poindexter. Something tells me that when all is said and done, my bank account is going to be so pristine that the Virgin Mary herself would be happy to sign up for direct deposit. (I wish.)

Now, I'm not looking for sympathy, and I definitely don't need any handouts because, as John Kerry is so fond of saying, "I have a plan." And the first prong of that plan involves me doing a little cleansing of my own. That's right, folks, I'm selling off all my shit.

This will be good for two reasons. First, I'll hopefully make enough money that I won't have to spend the last few months of my trip competing with local pidgeons, squirrels, and rhesus monkeys for food scraps on the street. And second, I'll be ridding myself of all the worthless shit that I've been toting from apartment to apartment for the past 6 years.

Items that have hit the auction block so far:

• My CD collection. In all honesty, this should have been done years ago. I did the bulk of my CD purchasing during the period of 1991 to 1999 which, coincidentally, is also the period when I had the worst taste in music. And it boggles my mind how easily I was able to unload this swill on eBay. The shame I felt for owning a copy of Snow's 12 Inches of Snow (remember Informer?) must take a distant second place to that of the girl who paid SIX DOLLARS to take it off my hands. Kelli Ivey, if you are reading this, seek help.
• My video games. This was a tough one. My XBOX and I shared some good times together: drunken HALO, "Fyoo-shaaaaaaaaaan Fren-zaaaaaaaay"...I could go on forever. When I realized that I would never again hear Zak's stirring monologue, well, a little piece of me died. "Zak shellac in the ack ack pack...win again!" Indeed.
• My guitar. Okay, there is a lesson here that I have obviously been too stupid to learn: I am too lazy to learn to play guitar. I've had three separate opportunities to figure this out. Maybe it will sink in this time.
• My graphing calculator from college. If there really is a God, and He is truly just and righteous, He will see to it that I never end up in a college-level math class again.

So there you have it. My worldly possessions up for sale at a fraction of their original cost! My only worry is that I might have some sociopathic secret admirer who is slowly collecting my personal effects, just waiting for me to leave the country, and I'll return to find this guy sleeping in my bed, hanging out with my friends, and otherwise living my life. This situation will culminate with us enacting one of those bizarre Hollywood scenes where the cops have us at gunpoint, and they're desperately trying to figure out which one is the real Nate and which one is the impostor.

Oh, well. At least I will have made a few bucks.