April 30, 2009
So I’m
…off to the land of milk and honey, to take care of some family business.
Have a lovely weekend, everyone!
April 29, 2009
This is how I do.
Thanks for the recommendations! I definitely filled out a request for an estimate from the JK folks.
This process – erm, my process, should have been documented for posterity. I am a poster child for the hilarity of How You Shouldn’t Prepare for Buying Real Estate.
I am not, you might say, an organized person. Unless it’s work related, I just can’t seem to force myself to research a subject thoroughly before diving in. So there’s been a lot of conversations like the following:
Realtor: So, if you think you want to go ahead with this process, we should get you preapproved through your lender and..
Me (thinking): What? What’s that? A lender? OH! I totally should have thought of that. But I don’t HAVE a lender. Do I just talk to my bank? I hate my bank! I want a different lender! Who has money to lend me anymore, anyway?!!?! I’ll have to call Sibling. And maybe even Parents. They will know what to do. At some point, I should probably say something. I’ve been standing here with a dumb look on my face for at least 10 seconds, now…
Realtor: …and if you don’t have anyone you’d prefer to work with, I’ve got someone I’ve worked with in the past who’s been good.
Me: Phew! Okay, that’s taken care of.
And then there was this:
Lender email: So, we’ve got you approved for X amount at X percent and zero points. If you want to lock in that rate, give me a call tomorrow before 10 am and we’ll take care of the application fee and get you locked in.
Me: Sweet! That was a better interest rate than I thought. But what the @#$^& are points? Do I WANT points? Points sound like they might be good, maybe I do want them! If I win points in Skee-Ball, I get a prize…
Crap crap crap! It’s 10:30, and have no access to Google at present. Cannot call Sibling, as Niece and Nephew are asleep. Must call Parents, who might be asleep. I hope they aren’t. What the hell are points!??
Mr. Taggart (sleepily): Points are the price you pay for lowering your interest rate if you have bad credit. The bank isn’t asking you to pay points, because your credit is fine and thus your interest rate is going to be just fine, as well.
Me: Oh. So… points are bad.
Mr. Taggart: Well, they’re not bad if you’re the one with bad credit and you want to lower your interest rate. But having to deal with them in the first place isn’t generally a good sign.
Me: Right, got it. Thanks, Dad!
The moral of the story? Do your research. It will save your body the effort of producing all that adrenaline to fuel your panic attacks, and will save your reputation the trouble of recovering from you exposing your idiocy to the world.
April 28, 2009
This isn’t…
…one of those things where a girl gets happy and then has nothing more to write about, because it was all just an exercise in self-indulgent angst-purging. I’m just really busy. I more or less bought a condo (closing at the end of May) and am easily overwhelmed by things that involve either finances or keeping paperwork organized, and this involves both.
Anyone have any recommendations for movers in VA?
April 24, 2009
Important
It’s an interesting thing, how widely priorities can differ. By far the most interesting thing is what happens when we don’t know what we really want, and so we try other people’s priorities on for size. Judging by the therapy co-pay entries in my checking account, side effects include extreme neurosis and anxiety.
I was thinking about this, because I’ve been a lot happier lately. Since the major defining aspects of my life haven’t changed significantly, it seemed obvious that the shift was internal – I was looking at things differently.
A few weeks ago, I had a weekend that, had it happened last year, would have ended very differently. Because I would have handled it horribly. Histrionics, hysteria, and MASS INSECURITY would have ensued. And over the past month, a few other major events have occurred in my life – events that went unacknowledged by someone I’d thought of as a close friend.
And yet, I’m happy. I suspect the improvement in the weather has something to do with it – the sunshine burning away the cobwebs of seasonal affective disorder, and whatnot. At the same time, I think I’ve also learned to let the good loom just as large – to spend as much time appreciating what I have, as focusing on that which has gone awry. It’s a balance that hasn’t come easily, and may take some work to maintain, given my natural tendencies. But dear lord, is it worth it.
Because I’m happy.
April 23, 2009
Thanks! *Thunk*
Yeah…. so. I know I said I’d be back, but I’m simply too full to write anything of substance. A ten-course tasting menu can do that to a girl.
I have a sneaking suspicion that yesterday was the best birthday ever. And I definitely felt loved. Thank you to all of my friends and family who made it so!
April 22, 2009
Prime
It is a testament to my nerdiness that of all the things I am excited about today, the fact that my age is now a prime number is pretty far from the bottom of the list.
I’ll be back with more scintillating nonsense on the morrow. Have a lovely day!
April 21, 2009
In which I should probably defer to an expert
I’ve been engaged in negotiations, lately. And so, I sought advice from Sibling Extraordinaire, who is Skilled and Shrewd and a LOT more of a hard-ass than I thought she’d be. My niece and nephew may find joint mutinies more difficult than they’d planned.
Given that Sibling is zodiacally a Cancer, one might think that she’d be a better mediator than zealous advocate, just wanting to make everyone happy and threatening to get sniffly if there’s too much confrontation about. So I inquired about her newfound skill at getting what she wants the way she wants it.
And she explained that she’s been working for Norwegians for the past few years.
Apparently, our fair-headed friends across the pond really are known for more than a cool pantheon. Sibling, who was acting in an advisory capacity, would urge her bosses to do things like… pay lease agreements as, well… as agreed. Because of, you know. Things like penalties and lawsuits. And instead, somehow, they’d decide they didn’t want to pay, and managed to get one of the largest commercial leasing companies in the country to renegotiate their contracts.
One of them managed to get a steak, perfectly cooked to order, in an Italian restaurant that had nary a hint of steak on the menu. Sibling is convinced they had someone run to the supermarket on the spot to fulfill the special order.
Has anyone else heard of this phenomenon? Do they know someone who might be willing to train me in the ways of the Norse Negotiator?
April 20, 2009
Are you serious?
Before I begin, I’d like to ask anyone with a smidgen of extra happiness/good karma to send it over here. Feel free to use the following jar, creatively depicted by Edward Monkton.
Now that the important things have been addressed, let’s talk to the gentleman (a term used loosely) whose disapproval of his fellow Orange Line riders drove him to battery.
Sir:
As someone who is also of above-average height, I frequently take up a position in the center of the train car, because it is a decidedly minor inconvenience for me to grab the bar that runs along the car ceiling. This morning, however, I was privileged to find a seat that allowed me to store my large bag out of the way of my fellow commuters, and thus, I had a spectacular view of your outburst.
You see, the car was actually quite full by the time you got on the train, and the center of the car was occupied by a number of personages who were struggling to keep from embarrassing personal space invasions. But you, you were having none of that. First, you shouted at everyone to move towards the center of the car – despite the fact that people were already attempting to do so. And then, when the movement had not occurred to an extent which YOU, the apparent authority on Metro Passenger Positioning, found acceptable, you elected to push your way through the people at the door into the remaining 1/4 square foot of space in the aisle. Which, I suppose, was your prerogative, as was being completely rude and petulant about the whole situation.
What was not your prerogative, and what has forever branded you as a complete asshole in my eyes, is the manner in which you brandished your briefcase during this episode, so that you smacked several fellow passengers in the head and gave at least one cause to wonder if her kidney had been punctured.
Should I see you again, on a rainy day, I will consider it fully within my rights to “accidentally” cause my umbrella to find the end of its full length somewhere at, or just behind, your genitals. Consider yourself on notice.
Regards,
DT
April 17, 2009
If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.
Please let everything be okay, okay?
I’m not asking for much – just that everything be okay. There are good people involved – good people who deserve good things.
If you have any positive energy, thoughts, hopes, and/or prayers to send that way – even the tiniest smidgen to spare – please do so.
April 16, 2009
TMI Thursday: Let ’em Rrrrrip!
Today’s TMI Thursday is brought to you by the ghosts of waistbands past.
Scene: Homecoming, 2002
My first year of law school, I didn’t have a car – but I lived with other first years, so I pretty much always had a ride to class. I didn’t have a gym membership, either. And there was a fair amount of studying, and drinking beer.
That year, I managed to get a ride to Ye Merrye Olde College’s homecoming with a friend, and I was looking forward to hanging out with my old friends and having a good time. Everything was going great!
I’d stopped by my friend Tinkerbell’s new room – she’d been my roommate the year before, and was then dating my ex-fiance. Everything was cool, for the most part, except she’d occasionally say something that made it seem like she had some newfound hostility she was pointing at me – our friendship now had an uneasy undertone. For example, she’d make little comments about how easy it was to go to Snoopy’s hometown, and how she didn’t understand why his previous girlfriends had such a problem with it.
For the most part, I did my best to ignore these little incidents, assuming that he was (as he’d done with me), driving her slowly insane by talking about his exes nonstop. And since she knew me personally, it probably made her feel even less sane.
So this visit, I was just stopping by to say hi, see how things were going, and then I was going to move along and get ready for some partying that night. I walked in, exchanged hugs, and we stood around talking for a bit – and then I noticed my shoe was untied. I bent over to remedy the situation, and…
rrrrrrrip.
The sound was unmistakeable. My jeans had ripped when I bent over, finally giving voice to their objections to the less active, more sedentary lifestyle I’d adopted over the past few months. And Tinkerbell was right there, and had heard the whole thing. And smiled. Thankfully, I was able to tie my light jacket around my waist in true touron* fashion, and make my way back to my suitcase for less vented clothing.
The moral of the story? Denying one’s weight gain is not going to help one in the long run. Also… it’s pretty easy to find yourself competing, even if you don’t want anything to do with the supposed prize.
Seeking John Galt 