This is not like putting your house up for sale. Well, maybe it is, just a little. You certainly will not be making a profit on this transaction. Actually, there is no transaction.
So let's assume that when December 12th, 2012 arrives, everyone somehow leaves earth, be it in a spaceship, an apocalyptic disaster or in a religious rapture that leaves heathens behind. (Who cares about the heathens, right?) You need to get your home ready! I mean, you have to imagine that one day in the future someone or thing may be back and homestead on your property. You want to leave it nice for them right? You may not care, but think about it. If you went to a strange planet, and were trying to find a place to stay, wouldn't you want to find a home that was welcoming and comfortable?
First, you will want to throw away all of that stuff that you have been squirreling away. You know, all of those Martha Stewart magazines, the newspaper from 9/11 that will someday be "worth something", the little piece of shit plastic snow globe that you picked up in Chicago when you had a layover in O'Hare just to prove that you had actually been to Chicago and that carton of milk in the fridge that you are using as a gage to tell you how long it has been since you have actually cleaned out the fridge. (Note: If the milk is solid...It's time.) In other words, THROW ALL YOUR CRAP OUT! No one will want to see that.
What? You think that it may be like a time capsule for future generations of god-knows-what that may inhabit the planet? Quite frankly we are going to be lucky if whoever comes to the planet in the future has eyes, let alone the mental capacity to grasp the Ginger Chicken recipe in Martha Stewart's May 2002 issue or what those little white things are floating around in side of that cheap ass plastic ball.
So, we have established that we need to throw crap out. What stays? Well, my inclination is to say that all furniture stays. Again, we are trying to make the house comfortable. This is of course assuming that whatever/whoever comes back to earth after we are gone has asses remotely shaped like ours and finds polyester comfortable to sit and sleep on.
The TV/DVD/Stereo stays, as well as your collection of 80's TV Shows on DVD. We want them to have some idea of what we were like when we inhabited the planet, and I would prefer that they see a bit of our race from Punky Brewster, Silver Spoons and The Cosby Show as opposed to Rosanne, The Simpsons and Family Guy. You might want to throw a Bewitched into your collection just to keep whoever sits down and figures out to use the technology guessing about our race and what we were capable of.
That's another thing. Depending on how complex your TV set up is, you may need to leave pictographs behind that illustrate how to use the five remote controls on your coffee table to make the magic moving picture box work WITH sound and actual pictures. If you need a reference point to start, simply use the original plaque that is included on the Pioneer Spacecraft as a start. Good luck.
Now, you will no doubt have some items of, let's say, ill repute in your home. Depending on your modesty, you may wish to leave these behind as a testament to your perversion, or you may with to toss them out. This is up to you. I suggest you think long and hard (snicker) about this decision. Do you really want this new visitor thinking that big hunk of silicone goes into their mouth like a lollipop? No, I didn't think so.
Your kitchen will be a place of great mystery for your new tenant. Depending on how long you have been gone, there will not likely be much food left that will be worth eating, save for some Spam, a can of Spaghetti-O's and a box of quinoa that you always meant to cook. Spam is questionable at most times, but from what pictures this new being sees, the color and texture of Spam may appear to be more human than food and they may think that we were a civilization of cannibals. Throw the Spam away. Keep vacuum sealed bags of beans, rice and other dried legumes and grains. These can provide sustenance to you in times of need or disaster as well as to whatever is in your home when you are gone. Again, you can leave a pictograph of how to cook these or not. Your choice.
Dull your knives. You don't want blood/acid/rancid green goo all over your kitchen. Your new guest will probably not know what to do with a knife anyway. Do not throw your knives away. You will need them in case of intruders up until the point when you leave.
When leaving your house for the final time, assuming that you know when that is, make sure that all doors are unlocked. A fat lot of good all of this preperation will do if this person/creature has to blow down the fucking door and destroy your beautiful house in the process.
Final point. When getting your house ready, pretend you will be back, but that in the meantime your mother-in-law will visit. That will be helpful in opening your eyes to what should stay in the house (crappy food) and what should go (clutter and porn).
Next post: Pet sitting. Or is that pet leaving?