September 28, 2013

If you need me, I'll be living in a van down by the river.

As you know, we may have sold the house, in a shockingly quick manner.  We are still waiting for the appraiser to come back with the appraisal; we still need the inspector to come and inspect and our closing date, if it happens, will be on October 31st.

And at this point?  At this point, I'm actually hoping the appraiser will come back with a ridiculously low appraisal so that we can tell the buyers that there is no way in hell we will lower the sale price to that amount.

Why?  Because I have been scouting around.  I know we are planning to rent before we jump into buying anything else - but you still have to know what's out there.  And what's out there?  Nothing.

Well, that's not entirely accurate...there is plenty out there that I liked but could never, ever in a million years afford - unless I hit the lottery.  And what we could afford - well, let's just say I was horrified and leave it at that.

Hubby continues to laugh at what he thinks is my dramatic moaning - but that's only because he hasn't been out there looking.

So then I turned my eye towards rentals - figuring I can worry about buying a house later.  That didn't go much better.  I kid you not, one house that was a two bedroom, one bath, teeny-tiny house in a semi-sketchy neighborhood was asking more for rent than we are currently paying on our mortgage!

Which is when I had my revelation and, of course, I tweeted it to the world...

Apparently, at this point, this is the only feasible choice.

September 22, 2013

Well now, that was unexpected....

Do you remember I told you about my tendency to put the cart before the horse?  And then proceeded to show you all just how insane I could be?

Well, apparently, all my insane tendencies were correct.  We received an offer on the house...from the folks that first (and, in fact, the ONLY people), came to view the house.  I had a feeling about this sweet, little family.  I knew they were interested.

Holy cow, were they they have been to view the house no less than three times in one week, yeah, I'd say they were interested.

Needless to say, this offer brought forth a mixture of emotions.  Elation (YAY! They love my house as much as I do!  In fact, the wife even informed me that this was the ONLY house she'd seen where she wouldn't have to repaint because she liked my colors so much) mixed with sadness and horror (how DARE they try to take MY house away?).

But in the end?  Well, the truth is, as much as I love this house - this house isn't exactly full of happy memories, is it?

Not long after moving in Hubby lost his job; for what turned out to be an extended amount of time.  Which means that the majority of our time spent in this house has been fraught with fear and uncertainty.  I can look around and pinpoint the areas where I have cried copious amounts of tears.  Yes, I can also look around and remember some happy moments - but to be fair the sad have far outweighed the happy.

So here's the deal...I'm ready to let this house go.  I'm ready to pass this house on to the nice, young family and hope that this house holds a beautiful future for them.  I'm ready to shake the dust of the past few years from my heels and face the future.

But despite the fact that the house is as good as sold - which I won't count on until we actually sign the closing documents - apparently, we won't be in any rush to leave it.

The nice, young family wants to close as soon as possible BUT for various reasons known only to them, they won't be able to move in immediately.  So they have asked us if we would entertain the idea of renting the house until December at a rate equal to our current mortgage.  We have agreed.

This does two things for us - it gives us a little bit of breathing room about finding somewhere else to live and it gives us the luxury of an organized attempt at packing.  In the past, when we've sold a home the new owners usually want to occupy the house as soon as possible, which results in slap-dash packing.  And we all know what happens when you pack like that - things get lost and unpacking can be a nightmare.

So, here we to start a new chapter.

September 11, 2013

An Open Letter to Jackasses Everywhere - Your Mother Would Be Mortified (FYI - you might want to take note McDonald's)

Dear Sir Jackass -

Did your mother raise you to behave like that?!  I'm hopeful that she didn't - but with the amount of jackassery I witness on a daily basis, I'm beginning to think she did - which, quite honestly, breaks my heart.  Because I can tell you that without a doubt, if I ever even hear a whisper of a rumor that my child MIGHT have behaved in the manner that you did today?  Well, let's just say that he would definitely live to regret his behavior - and no, I don't care if he will be 19 on his birthday next month.  Actually, I would STILL give him hell for it if he was about to turn 50.

Today, I stopped by McDonald's to get my fix a diet soda (hush, we aren't here to discuss my vices - we are here to talk about YOU) when I witnessed your behavior.  And I was APPALLED.

Yes, I realize that this particular McDonald's has recently undergone a renovation which added the "extra" order lane - of which, I can tell you I heartily disagreed with from the start.  Mainly because I had envisioned the EXACT scenario which you proceeded to act out in great detail today.

BAD idea, Micky-Dee! BAD.

I saw you there, taking your time to place your order as I pulled into the other lane and quickly placed my order for my single item.  I'm sure that kinda ticked you off, since I was able to pull ahead of you - sorry about that.  Quit screwing around while you are ordering; that's the only advice I have for you on that front.  If you don't know what you want then park the car and go inside to figure it out.

The elderly gentleman behind me also placed his order rather quickly.  Yes, maybe you DID complete your order first and was technically "the next person in line" but, from what I could see, the elderly gentleman was driving a gigantic automobile and, most likely, didn't see you over there as he began to nose forward - in front of you.

Your reaction of screaming and cursing at the elderly man was reminiscent of a toddler throwing a tantrum.  And then to make matters worse - you decided that jumping OUT of your car and standing in front of his while screaming obscenities was the best course of action?

Really?!  Where EXACTLY did you determine that this sort of behavior is how a "man" behaves?  Do you actually think this kind of behavior makes you "a man"?  Because, in all honesty, it disgusted me.  And then? To watch you swagger back to your car and pick up your phone - because, I assume, you had to broadcast your behavior all over social media - right about then I had an urge to get out of MY car and rip into you.

I judge you to be about...what?  Mid-twenties, maybe?  So let me give you just a bit of motherly advice, if you will.  Stop it.  Grow up.  And be a man.  What does it take to be a man, you might wonder?  Well, let me tell you.  First of all, don't act like an idiot - or worse, a jackass.  In public or otherwise.  Sure, you were hungry.  I get that, but you know what?  The person at the window offered ME your food (which quite honestly, happens ALL THE TIME at places with this kind of drive-thru system) - and truth be told, I was sorely tempted to take it to give to the homeless man down the street JUST to piss you off that much more when you either got the wrong order or had to wait even longer.  As you must have surmised (which, by the way, basically means "figured out."  Sorry, if my explanation offends you - but by your behavior, I can only assume that you are a Neanderthal - which loosely means, "cave man.") by now, I bypassed that childish impulse.

If you had to wait just a minute more for your damn cheeseburger would it have killed you?  No, probably not.  In other words, "Suck it up and be a man" - which, in case you weren't aware, real men don't behave in that fashion.  No, real men are what they used to call "gentlemen."  If you aren't quite sure what that means, look it up - you know, in a dictionary.  But since I suspect you won't - let me lay it out in quite simple terms - gentlemen don't act like jackasses - as you did today.

And here's just another little bit of motherly wisdom - respect people. Period.  Who the hell do you think you are?  When you find yourself screaming at a person - over a flippin cheeseburger! - I'm thinking it's time to take a step back, look at your life, look at your temper and start re-thinking EVERYTHING about your life, because you?  You are doing something wrong.  You are, in fact, a jackass.

And, I can only hope that your mother would be ashamed to know of your behavior - that she would, in fact, be MORTIFIED.


The "If-You-Were-My-Son-I'd-Kill-You" Mom (don't believe me? Ask MY son.  The one I taught to respect other people and act like a gentleman)

P.S. McDonald's? Are you listening?  Sure, this two lane system may be processing orders more quickly, but it is also processing more insane behavior in the jackasses that walk among us.  You might want to re-think that strategy.

September 8, 2013

The Invisible Box (or, more appropriately...Apparently, my insanity knows no bounds)

As you know, we are going to show the house tomorrow.  This, of course, led to a major cleaning frenzy today.

In the course of said frenzy, my eye happened to fall on this box.

Now this little box sits in an unobtrusive corner in my laundry room and is used to hold items that need to be taken to Goodwill.  You know, like *that* pair of pants that looked, oh so cute, in the store but in reality made me look like an Oompaloompa.  This little box is also apparently invisible to everyone in the house except for me - as I am the only person who ever seems to deposit anything into the box, unless I force them to at gun point. (Yes, I live with hoarders, people).

As I continued on with the cleaning frenzy, that little box remained in mind.  Why?  Because I had decided that the little box needed to be prettified AND it needed to happen before tomorrow - you know, just in case the little box isn't actually invisible to everyone but me.

So I pondered - yes, PONDERED - over the best way to make the box pretty.  

And I came up with the solution of covering the box with Contact Paper.  Yes, I could have used pretty gift wrap - but since I had pondered over this little box for far too long - I had decided that gift wrap just wouldn't hold up as well on a box, that sits in the corner, and is only used by me.

So I made a special trip to Target to procure "pretty" Contact Paper to cover the invisible box and came home and set to work.  Now, as anyone who has ever used Contact Paper to line their shelves knows, it is not the easiest medium to work with.  Throw a box with corners into the equation and you are talking EXTRA tricky.

But I did it; and now my invisible box is pretty.

And as if spending half an hour wrapping a box - that no one but me sees - wasn't enough.  I decided it needed a label, just in case that box isn't invisible to everyone else, so that they would know the purpose of the box.  So I headed to the computer, created said label, printed it, cut it out and slapped it on.

And there you have it.  I am now the proud owner of a pretty little, invisible box that proudly states its purpose.

As if you needed further proof of my insanity.

September 7, 2013

Putting the cart before the horse...because that's what I do best.

I was out running errands today when Hubby called.  Apparently, someone called about the house and wants to see it on Monday.  Which is when my mind went into overdrive.

With all the things that need to be done before we show it AND, more importantly, with what we are going to do if these people actually buy it.  Hence, putting the cart before the horse.

We've already determined that we will rent something while we figure out our next move.  Great.  That means there are at least TWO moves in my future.  But the thought of coordinating the sale of this one and finding and buying something else makes Hubby's head explode and since I don't have the time or the inclination to deal with head explosions, I'll just have to deal with the two moves.

But since even before the house was on the market, I've been scouting around.  And here is what I've determined regarding renting; other than an apartment or a town home (maybe), we will probably be shelling out about the same amount of cash that we are currently paying on our mortgage.  And?  Those houses are teeny-tiny houses that are ancient.  But what disturbs me more?

The lack of decent, affordable housing for sale in the areas we want to live.  I don't have a problem living within the city limits - but Hubby does because of the taxes.  He tells me (and I guess I have to believe him since I don't understand it all) that we can afford "more" house in the county.  And I don't mind living in the county, as long as it's the northwest part of the county.  The other parts of the county are just not negotiable for me (don't ask me why, it just is.  Plus all of our friends - that we never see - are out here).

I wouldn't mind looking at existing neighborhoods - but Hubby seems hell bent on building again.  He is convinced that we will never find exactly what we want.  I'm fine with building BUT I want to live in a neighborhood again (currently, we kind of live in between neighborhoods without actually fitting into either one).

And here is what I've discovered about this part of the county.  The only new neighborhoods are only building McMansions at ridiculous prices.  Even if I could afford a McMansion, I don't want one.  Basically, it's just the two of us.  We don't NEED a McMansion and I certainly don't want to clean one.  That's one of the reasons we are selling this one - which isn't a McMansion - it is just bigger than what we need.

And then today, I thought I hit the mother lode.  It was PERFECT.  There were brand new homes and lots for sale in what seemed to be a reasonably priced neighborhood.  The houses didn't look overly large or ostentatious.  The neighborhood was what I would call "quaint".  Although, the lawns were rather small - which would be a problem for Hubby but was one I could overlook.  None of the lots or houses had those info boxes that carry flyers with all the details about the house; so when I came home I Googled them.  And guess what?

That house, the one that looked smaller than the house I currently live in?  The one with the teeny-tiny postage stamp of a lawn?  I almost had a heart attack when I saw the list price; it was FAR more than what we are asking for our house - which is bigger and sits on nearly an acre.

I'm thinking either a) we need to re-think this moving thing or b) we need to up the asking price for this house.

So, in a nutshell, I am panicking over where we are going to go - after we move into a rental somewhere to plot our next move - before we have even shown the house to the first person whose shown an interest.

I'm insane.

September 2, 2013

It's Labor Day weekend! And, in retrospect, I have *definitely* labored this much so, that I need another day off

As you know from my last post, I toiled over the damn pantry all day on Saturday - which, I have informed my husband, makes my heart happy every time I walk in there - in my vain attempt to have him keep it the way he finds it when he walks in there.

On Friday, (which I might point out, my company so kindly provides as an "extra" holiday, in addition to the Labor Day Monday) I spent the majority of the day driving up and down The Mountain to retrieve Man-Child so he could spend the weekend with us - which was fabulous.  The house is so empty when he's not here.

Yesterday was Sunday - a day of rest.  Which means I did absolutely nothing. Except for helping Hubby figure out how to remove the three layers of glass on our oven door.  Why were we removing the three layers of glass, you ask?

Because not too long ago, Hubby was bemoaning the fact that there was much "cooked on gunk" on the stove top and wondering how to remove it without scratching the surface.  I tossed off "Use peroxide and baking soda to make a paste."  Somehow this little factoid had wedged itself into my mind while cruising the Internet at some point.  No, I can't point you to WHERE I found it.  All I remember was seeing the words "This will clean ANYTHING!"  He did it and it worked (I'm a believer - this stuff removed every single bit of the gunk after sitting on the range overnight - I'm now pondering where else in this house it might work it's magic).  Which lead him to try to clean the inside oven window.  Which did not work out so well.  Mainly because, he didn't leave the paste on as long and somehow during the process the solution seeped down the cracks and left a white stain on every single pane of glass, which was clearly visible from the outside.

So we struggled with the whole removing the three panes of glass (and cleaning them) for the better part of four hours (thanks to a couple of stripped screws).  Somehow, we managed to do so without breaking either the oven or the glass.  And it looks pretty good.

Now, we just have to do the same for the bottom oven.  Because, of course, the peroxide/baking soda solution somehow managed to drip down into those three panes as well.  *sigh*  And I wondered why I was exhausted on Sunday night?

Today found me driving back up and down The Mountain to deposit Man-Child back at school.  I don't mind driving, for the most part.  Around town driving makes me crazy because of the idiots - but I find, for the most part, highway driving is pretty easy, if a bit exhausting after a four hour round trip.  So, I don't mind going up to fetch and the going up to return - except I really don't like the returning part, if the truth be told.

When I came home, I discovered that Hubby was attempting to fix the corner cabinet lazy susan.  Remember when this happened?

Yes, after over a YEAR, the lazy susan cabinet has finally been repaired.  And all it took was for one of the cabinet hinges to break, which caused a phone call to the manufacturer to order to new hinges, which caused the new hinges to be delivered - eventually - which caused Hubby to scratch his head, which caused me to call the cabinet installer to come out and fix the door.  AND while he was here, I asked him HOW to reattach the lazy susan to the fixed part of the cabinet.  Which led to a very simple, and ingenious, explanation (which I would love to expound upon, but unless I have you right in front of me, so I could demonstrate, would be impossible to do).  Which sounded great, in theory.

In truth, it was two person job.  One of us had to actually fold ourselves into the cabinet (that someone would be me) several different times and the other to wield the drill - because his arms were longer and could reach the nooks and crannies.  But in the end, the task was accomplished.  And I was pleased.

So now, not only do I have a perfect pantry (for now), I also have the lazy susan back.  I sure hope the new home owners will appreciate all our efforts.  And if it isn't in the cards for there to be new home owners, I know *I* will appreciate the efforts.

And?  After all that?  I'm thinking that extra vacation day I so astutely tacked on to this extra long weekend is well deserved.