We immediately proceeded outside.
3.30.2009
Weather
Our Saturday afternoon was interrupted by the sounds of tornado sirens and dire meteorological warnings on every television channel. Nashville was directly in the path of some severe tornadic conditions and we were urged to take cover until such time as the professionals deemed it safe.
We immediately proceeded outside.
We immediately proceeded outside.
3.19.2009
Just Tell Me When It's Over
Are you wondering about the house? Of course you aren’t. You all have fun and exciting and productive lives, while my every waking and sleeping moment is consumed by house (and not the Hugh Laurie kinda House!).
We were, allegedly, supposed to close tomorrow. It was a pipe dream, my friends. Never gonna happen.
Daniel and I spent 8 (that’s right – EIGHT) hours in our mortgage consultant’s office on Tuesday. We were there promptly at 9 am, bearing cups of Starbucks, for a 1 hour scheduled meeting to update our file, submit our bank application, and lock in our interest rate. And then things went downhill in a hurry. It’s difficult to even adequately articulate WHAT exactly we did during that 8 hours, but there was cursing, and tears and maniacal rants (oh, and no lunch – which perhaps contributed to the maniacal rants).
We have jumped through more hoops than a goddamn circus poodle! All for a wonky lil cottage painted a heinous shade of flesh into which we’re going to have to pour massive amounts of sweat and cash. Sometimes I have to remind myself why I ever wanted my own house in the first place.
Okay, but here’s the good news. Our agent, who deserves WAY more than the 3% he’ll be getting, got us another extension on our closing date. We have until March 31st. And if we can’t manage to close by then, I’m out. I’m done. I’ll rent or live in a tree or live in a refrigerator box over a sidewalk grate on Church Street. Because I can’t keep up this frenetic emotional and psychological strain.
Oh, and I’m also tired of people trying to commiserate. I know I would probably do the same damn thing if someone kept complaining to me of their house-buying trials; you know, try to empathize and say soothing things like, “we’ve all been there...it’s always so stressful buying a house…etc.” But dammit! This is different. Anything we could possibly do to make buying a house more difficult than it already is under normal circumstances, we’re doing. Which makes us either a.) clinically insane or b.) incredibly stupid. Take your pick. In the meantime, cross your fingers that this all ends SOON before somebody gets hurt!
We were, allegedly, supposed to close tomorrow. It was a pipe dream, my friends. Never gonna happen.
Daniel and I spent 8 (that’s right – EIGHT) hours in our mortgage consultant’s office on Tuesday. We were there promptly at 9 am, bearing cups of Starbucks, for a 1 hour scheduled meeting to update our file, submit our bank application, and lock in our interest rate. And then things went downhill in a hurry. It’s difficult to even adequately articulate WHAT exactly we did during that 8 hours, but there was cursing, and tears and maniacal rants (oh, and no lunch – which perhaps contributed to the maniacal rants).
We have jumped through more hoops than a goddamn circus poodle! All for a wonky lil cottage painted a heinous shade of flesh into which we’re going to have to pour massive amounts of sweat and cash. Sometimes I have to remind myself why I ever wanted my own house in the first place.
Okay, but here’s the good news. Our agent, who deserves WAY more than the 3% he’ll be getting, got us another extension on our closing date. We have until March 31st. And if we can’t manage to close by then, I’m out. I’m done. I’ll rent or live in a tree or live in a refrigerator box over a sidewalk grate on Church Street. Because I can’t keep up this frenetic emotional and psychological strain.
Oh, and I’m also tired of people trying to commiserate. I know I would probably do the same damn thing if someone kept complaining to me of their house-buying trials; you know, try to empathize and say soothing things like, “we’ve all been there...it’s always so stressful buying a house…etc.” But dammit! This is different. Anything we could possibly do to make buying a house more difficult than it already is under normal circumstances, we’re doing. Which makes us either a.) clinically insane or b.) incredibly stupid. Take your pick. In the meantime, cross your fingers that this all ends SOON before somebody gets hurt!
3.05.2009
MUST. BUY. HOUSE.
Hello my dears. I wish I had something interesting or even mildly entertaining to amuse you with but my entire being knows only one thing right now: MUST. BUY. HOUSE.
Things are better since the last time we chatted. The machine that is the process of buying a house is moving along like an old jalopy. Highly unreliable, often emitting smoke and noxious fumes, but still chugging along with an occasional joyful burst of unexpected acceleration.
Today marked our extended inspection deadline. We FINALLY got the entire inspection completed last week with the inspector having to come back out to the house to finish inspecting the plumbing. The plumbing was not inspected the first time because a major leak was discovered upon FINALLY getting the water turned on and it had to immediately be turned off until it could be repaired.
General Inspection. Check.
Termite Inspection. Check.
Not so fast! There’s been some technical delays (of course!) with our inspector getting the updated and revised inspection report to the people in the HAND department (the Home and Neighborhood Development department is the branch of NACA that handles all property rehabilitations), so while I have created a scope of work based upon the incomplete inspection report, we do not know for sure what repairs HAND will require us to do.
Which means they may make us (and by “us” I mean a professional who we hire) have Work Write Up forms submitted on any number of things to supplement the inspection report to the satisfaction of HAND. Which means the utilities may need to be on and functioning to accomplish this.
Remember when I told you TODAY is our inspection period deadline? Which means the utilities go off tomorrow.
Remember when I told you that our inspector was having technical difficulties submitting his revised report to HAND? Which means we won’t know if HAND will require any Work Write Up’s until next week.
Ultimately what this means is that I have spent a good portion of my day corresponding with various people in an attempt to assess the potential situation, determine whether keeping the utilities on is an option and if it is, how we go about making sure they stay on. This is a very complex process. The “various people” include our real estate agent, our NACA mortgage consultant, our NACA real estate consultant, our HAND consultant, our HAND consultant’s consultant, the seller (Bank of America), the seller’s representative, the seller’s representative’s utilities manager, and the seller’s representative’s real estate agent. I know, right!? Fucking unbelievable.
In the meantime, we are trying to work with contractors to make sure we have a few lined up and ready to go once we get the green light. Which means meeting contractors out at the house and responding to their phone calls and emails regarding questions or concerns they have about the house or our rehab budget or the NACA guidelines or what kind of kitchen appliances we want, or whatever.
The house is old people! It hasn’t been occupied in over 2 years. There’s some major renovation that’s going to have to happen for this place to even be habitable. Our budget is tight. We need to accomplish much working with not-very-much. The rough estimates we’ve received from our contractors based upon my sketchy scope are within budget, but, remember when I told you we haven’t heard from HAND yet on their assessment of the inspection report? Which could mean A.) We have some room to breathe or B.) we have to scrap some of the cosmetic renovation just to meet code. And due to the technical difficulties our inspector has been experiencing, we won’t know this information until next week.
Nothing stresses me out more than not being in control of a situation. If I can be involved and proactive and work towards a resolution, I’m in a much better frame of mind. It’s when I have to wait on, count on, depend upon others that drives me to drink! And that’s where we are now. Hopefully, our inspector will be able to work out the technical difficulties with HAND tonight. Hopefully, the utilities will stay on beyond tomorrow. Hopefully, HAND’s requirements won’t completely bust our budget.
And remember when I told you Daniel and I are getting married?
'Member dat?
Even though we’re not even remotely interested in doing the wedding thing – or really any kind of traditional thing associated with getting hitched - I do want to give some consideration to how we’re going to pull this thing off…when we’re going to pull this thing off. I'm envisioning rings. I'm envisioning travel. I'm envisioning a party. But until this house stuff is over with, my brain cannot accommodate anything else. MUST. BUY. HOUSE. It’s my mantra.
Things are better since the last time we chatted. The machine that is the process of buying a house is moving along like an old jalopy. Highly unreliable, often emitting smoke and noxious fumes, but still chugging along with an occasional joyful burst of unexpected acceleration.
Today marked our extended inspection deadline. We FINALLY got the entire inspection completed last week with the inspector having to come back out to the house to finish inspecting the plumbing. The plumbing was not inspected the first time because a major leak was discovered upon FINALLY getting the water turned on and it had to immediately be turned off until it could be repaired.
General Inspection. Check.
Termite Inspection. Check.
Not so fast! There’s been some technical delays (of course!) with our inspector getting the updated and revised inspection report to the people in the HAND department (the Home and Neighborhood Development department is the branch of NACA that handles all property rehabilitations), so while I have created a scope of work based upon the incomplete inspection report, we do not know for sure what repairs HAND will require us to do.
Which means they may make us (and by “us” I mean a professional who we hire) have Work Write Up forms submitted on any number of things to supplement the inspection report to the satisfaction of HAND. Which means the utilities may need to be on and functioning to accomplish this.
Remember when I told you TODAY is our inspection period deadline? Which means the utilities go off tomorrow.
Remember when I told you that our inspector was having technical difficulties submitting his revised report to HAND? Which means we won’t know if HAND will require any Work Write Up’s until next week.
Ultimately what this means is that I have spent a good portion of my day corresponding with various people in an attempt to assess the potential situation, determine whether keeping the utilities on is an option and if it is, how we go about making sure they stay on. This is a very complex process. The “various people” include our real estate agent, our NACA mortgage consultant, our NACA real estate consultant, our HAND consultant, our HAND consultant’s consultant, the seller (Bank of America), the seller’s representative, the seller’s representative’s utilities manager, and the seller’s representative’s real estate agent. I know, right!? Fucking unbelievable.
In the meantime, we are trying to work with contractors to make sure we have a few lined up and ready to go once we get the green light. Which means meeting contractors out at the house and responding to their phone calls and emails regarding questions or concerns they have about the house or our rehab budget or the NACA guidelines or what kind of kitchen appliances we want, or whatever.
The house is old people! It hasn’t been occupied in over 2 years. There’s some major renovation that’s going to have to happen for this place to even be habitable. Our budget is tight. We need to accomplish much working with not-very-much. The rough estimates we’ve received from our contractors based upon my sketchy scope are within budget, but, remember when I told you we haven’t heard from HAND yet on their assessment of the inspection report? Which could mean A.) We have some room to breathe or B.) we have to scrap some of the cosmetic renovation just to meet code. And due to the technical difficulties our inspector has been experiencing, we won’t know this information until next week.
Nothing stresses me out more than not being in control of a situation. If I can be involved and proactive and work towards a resolution, I’m in a much better frame of mind. It’s when I have to wait on, count on, depend upon others that drives me to drink! And that’s where we are now. Hopefully, our inspector will be able to work out the technical difficulties with HAND tonight. Hopefully, the utilities will stay on beyond tomorrow. Hopefully, HAND’s requirements won’t completely bust our budget.
And remember when I told you Daniel and I are getting married?
'Member dat?
Even though we’re not even remotely interested in doing the wedding thing – or really any kind of traditional thing associated with getting hitched - I do want to give some consideration to how we’re going to pull this thing off…when we’re going to pull this thing off. I'm envisioning rings. I'm envisioning travel. I'm envisioning a party. But until this house stuff is over with, my brain cannot accommodate anything else. MUST. BUY. HOUSE. It’s my mantra.
2.25.2009
How Not To "Cope"
I’m overwhelmed. Slowly sinking. And over the past 32 years have developed frighteningly inadequate coping skills. Who knew trying to buy a foreclosed house in Tennessee owned by a bank in Texas which hasn’t been occupied for two years while trying to secure financing through a non-profit advocacy organization would end up being a process that closely resembles a full time job?!
Never mind that I already HAVE a full time job. A job that requires my nearly undivided attention at least 8 hours every day. And while some may be operating under the misconception that architects just sit at drafting tables drawing pretty pictures all day, my job is actually fairly demanding, and often stressful enough to warrant alcohol... or tears... or oreos.
In addition to my full time job for which I am paid, AND my new full time job dealing with bankers, realtors, contractors, inspectors, and NACA every goddamn hour of every goddamn day of the week, I am also trying to help a friend rent her house out here in Nashville. Under normal circumstances, this would not be a big deal. However, responding to emails and phone calls and requests from interested parties and then trying to schedule a time for those parties to view the house while I’m simultaneously responding to phone calls and generating emails and creating project scopes and trying to schedule times to meet with contractors and inspectors, and wading through the murky swamps of not only NACA red tape, but foreclosure red tape, trying desperately to meet our inspection deadline and our closing deadline, while trying to competently coordinate with structural engineers and fire safety code professionals and making sure proximity cabinets are shown on the plan the way the hospital wants them, and taking conference calls with elevator construction vendors and preconstruction managers and hospital equipment vendors while trying to help design a building that functions safely and efficiently and looks halfway fucking decent…
and that’s when the drowning sensation swirls around me and I panic and start gasping for air.
Believe it or not, in person, I’m not much of a complainer. I’ve always been of the opinion that my stress, my problems, my busy-ness is no worse than anyone else’s. Right? I mean, we all have shit to deal with and my shit isn’t any more important or special than anyone else’s shit. Which is why I don’t complain. Which is why I complain here instead. If I didn’t do it here, the consequences of keeping this stuff to myself could be catastrophic.
I’ll keep treading because I have no other choice and because I’m just being a big whiny baby, and what the hell would I do if I REALLY had stress? You know, the serious kind of stress that people everywhere have to deal with everyday. Like losing my job or losing a loved one or not having clean water or enough food or a safe place to sleep.
You would think that putting my piddly problems into perspective like that would snap me out of my navel-gazing stress, but oddly it doesn’t. Instead, it makes me feel like a horrible person. Like, how dare I complain about the stress in my life when, compared to A LOT of people, I have it really good. So then, in addition to the stress that has not dissipated, I berate myself for being so ungrateful, so self-important, so grossly self-absorbed. Yeah, it’s vicious. And totally unhealthy and unproductive. And the kicker is that I realize how stupid I’m being, so then on top of the stress and self battery, I further chastise myself for being so self indulgent as to even waste the time and energy berating myself about something so completely inconsequential. And then I feel insignificant and inadequate and want to crawl under the covers of my bed and devour 3 pints of ice cream.
Coping skills? What coping skills?
Never mind that I already HAVE a full time job. A job that requires my nearly undivided attention at least 8 hours every day. And while some may be operating under the misconception that architects just sit at drafting tables drawing pretty pictures all day, my job is actually fairly demanding, and often stressful enough to warrant alcohol... or tears... or oreos.
In addition to my full time job for which I am paid, AND my new full time job dealing with bankers, realtors, contractors, inspectors, and NACA every goddamn hour of every goddamn day of the week, I am also trying to help a friend rent her house out here in Nashville. Under normal circumstances, this would not be a big deal. However, responding to emails and phone calls and requests from interested parties and then trying to schedule a time for those parties to view the house while I’m simultaneously responding to phone calls and generating emails and creating project scopes and trying to schedule times to meet with contractors and inspectors, and wading through the murky swamps of not only NACA red tape, but foreclosure red tape, trying desperately to meet our inspection deadline and our closing deadline, while trying to competently coordinate with structural engineers and fire safety code professionals and making sure proximity cabinets are shown on the plan the way the hospital wants them, and taking conference calls with elevator construction vendors and preconstruction managers and hospital equipment vendors while trying to help design a building that functions safely and efficiently and looks halfway fucking decent…
and that’s when the drowning sensation swirls around me and I panic and start gasping for air.
Believe it or not, in person, I’m not much of a complainer. I’ve always been of the opinion that my stress, my problems, my busy-ness is no worse than anyone else’s. Right? I mean, we all have shit to deal with and my shit isn’t any more important or special than anyone else’s shit. Which is why I don’t complain. Which is why I complain here instead. If I didn’t do it here, the consequences of keeping this stuff to myself could be catastrophic.
I’ll keep treading because I have no other choice and because I’m just being a big whiny baby, and what the hell would I do if I REALLY had stress? You know, the serious kind of stress that people everywhere have to deal with everyday. Like losing my job or losing a loved one or not having clean water or enough food or a safe place to sleep.
You would think that putting my piddly problems into perspective like that would snap me out of my navel-gazing stress, but oddly it doesn’t. Instead, it makes me feel like a horrible person. Like, how dare I complain about the stress in my life when, compared to A LOT of people, I have it really good. So then, in addition to the stress that has not dissipated, I berate myself for being so ungrateful, so self-important, so grossly self-absorbed. Yeah, it’s vicious. And totally unhealthy and unproductive. And the kicker is that I realize how stupid I’m being, so then on top of the stress and self battery, I further chastise myself for being so self indulgent as to even waste the time and energy berating myself about something so completely inconsequential. And then I feel insignificant and inadequate and want to crawl under the covers of my bed and devour 3 pints of ice cream.
Coping skills? What coping skills?
2.16.2009
A Marriage Manifesto
Or something like that.
Women. Thirty-something women. Single, thirty-something women. Intelligent, single, thirty-something, women.
We hang out.
And when we hang out (to watch LOST...or whatever), at some point, we almost always end up having the marriage conversation. Seems like the older we get, the more preoccupied we become with the subject of marriage. We discuss the pros and cons, the potential pitfalls, the sacrifices, the right and wrong ways of going about this thing called marriage. Obviously we have opinions on the subject and often we are inordinately skeptical and highly cynical of the whole marriage thing. After all, we haven’t chosen to stay single for no good reason. We have our reasons. Oh yes we do. And they are varied.
But, no matter what our individual reasons are for remaining unmarried, the marriage conversation usually boils down to some universal agreements amongst Intelligent, Single, Thirty-Something women.
Obviously, finding another human being you actually envision spending the REST OF YOUR LIFE with is a challenge. Yeah, that’s a biggie. Some may say we’re too “picky”, or too independent. But look, we see friends, co-workers, acquaintances, celebrities…people who have “settled”. People who have said, “Yep, this is the one. This is the one person I want to be with forever and ever.” And then regret it, 6 months… 6 years… 16 years, later. It’s not that we don’t trust our own judgment. But, when we’ve witnessed fellow Intelligent Single women dive into marriages that don’t work, it makes us think twice, by golly. Holy hell! If it can happen to her, it can happen to me!
It’s a matter of witnessing too many divorces, surrounded by a multitude of unhappy, dysfunctional marriages. You may think we’re anti-marriage. You would be wrong. We’re realistic. We understand that things like marriage are difficult. Marriage doesn’t “fix” any thing that’s wrong in your life. Marriage isn’t a way to become someone or something you’re not. Marriage isn’t an escape and it certainly isn’t something to be entered into lightly. We take it very seriously.
We don’t want marriage for the sake of marriage. That’s a biggie too.
Sheep we are not. We understand that marriage is not a social club. It’s not something you do because all your friends are doing it. You don’t marry someone because it’s expected. You don’t marry someone in the hopes that you’ll be more accepted by society. You don’t marry a person because you are in love with the idealized daydream of being married.
Also, we’re patient. I know that’s quite laughable coming from the most impatient person on the planet! But, it’s true. We don’t want a marriage that isn’t quite right. And we’re willing to wait for one that IS quite right – not perfect (we’re not delusional after all) – but definitely quite right. We’re willing to invest the crucial time and effort it takes to really get to know a person before we make any major, life-altering decisions. Maybe we’re overly cautious. Neurotic, even. Commitment phobic. Selfish. Negative. Cowardly. We’ve been called all of these things and worse.
We also understand that marriage isn’t a Disney fairytale. Marriage isn’t a rosy whirlwind courtship followed by a romantic proposal and a big white wedding. It’s a decision based in love, respect and trust that two adults come to together. We don't feel that is something that can (or should) happen overnight.
Marriage isn’t something you commit to because you're keen on the idea of playing the wife role in your very own mini-series. We believe marriage is committing to that person who you know ALWAYS has your back. We feel that two people in a marriage should always have each other’s best interest at heart. Marriage is not for the selfish. Not for the faint of heart. Not for the fair-weather friend.
We understand that marriage is being with someone you can depend upon - no matter what. We will not settle for anything less. If that means we will never settle, that’s something we’re okay with. Again, if it's not quite right, we don't want it. Marriage is not some kind of badge of honor we’re hoping to collect so that we “fit in”. It's a decision that requires more than blind faith.
And so that is why, (as many of you already know) Daniel and I have decided to get married. Didn't see that coming, didja?!
Women. Thirty-something women. Single, thirty-something women. Intelligent, single, thirty-something, women.
We hang out.
And when we hang out (to watch LOST...or whatever), at some point, we almost always end up having the marriage conversation. Seems like the older we get, the more preoccupied we become with the subject of marriage. We discuss the pros and cons, the potential pitfalls, the sacrifices, the right and wrong ways of going about this thing called marriage. Obviously we have opinions on the subject and often we are inordinately skeptical and highly cynical of the whole marriage thing. After all, we haven’t chosen to stay single for no good reason. We have our reasons. Oh yes we do. And they are varied.
But, no matter what our individual reasons are for remaining unmarried, the marriage conversation usually boils down to some universal agreements amongst Intelligent, Single, Thirty-Something women.
Obviously, finding another human being you actually envision spending the REST OF YOUR LIFE with is a challenge. Yeah, that’s a biggie. Some may say we’re too “picky”, or too independent. But look, we see friends, co-workers, acquaintances, celebrities…people who have “settled”. People who have said, “Yep, this is the one. This is the one person I want to be with forever and ever.” And then regret it, 6 months… 6 years… 16 years, later. It’s not that we don’t trust our own judgment. But, when we’ve witnessed fellow Intelligent Single women dive into marriages that don’t work, it makes us think twice, by golly. Holy hell! If it can happen to her, it can happen to me!
It’s a matter of witnessing too many divorces, surrounded by a multitude of unhappy, dysfunctional marriages. You may think we’re anti-marriage. You would be wrong. We’re realistic. We understand that things like marriage are difficult. Marriage doesn’t “fix” any thing that’s wrong in your life. Marriage isn’t a way to become someone or something you’re not. Marriage isn’t an escape and it certainly isn’t something to be entered into lightly. We take it very seriously.
We don’t want marriage for the sake of marriage. That’s a biggie too.
Sheep we are not. We understand that marriage is not a social club. It’s not something you do because all your friends are doing it. You don’t marry someone because it’s expected. You don’t marry someone in the hopes that you’ll be more accepted by society. You don’t marry a person because you are in love with the idealized daydream of being married.
Also, we’re patient. I know that’s quite laughable coming from the most impatient person on the planet! But, it’s true. We don’t want a marriage that isn’t quite right. And we’re willing to wait for one that IS quite right – not perfect (we’re not delusional after all) – but definitely quite right. We’re willing to invest the crucial time and effort it takes to really get to know a person before we make any major, life-altering decisions. Maybe we’re overly cautious. Neurotic, even. Commitment phobic. Selfish. Negative. Cowardly. We’ve been called all of these things and worse.
We also understand that marriage isn’t a Disney fairytale. Marriage isn’t a rosy whirlwind courtship followed by a romantic proposal and a big white wedding. It’s a decision based in love, respect and trust that two adults come to together. We don't feel that is something that can (or should) happen overnight.
Marriage isn’t something you commit to because you're keen on the idea of playing the wife role in your very own mini-series. We believe marriage is committing to that person who you know ALWAYS has your back. We feel that two people in a marriage should always have each other’s best interest at heart. Marriage is not for the selfish. Not for the faint of heart. Not for the fair-weather friend.
We understand that marriage is being with someone you can depend upon - no matter what. We will not settle for anything less. If that means we will never settle, that’s something we’re okay with. Again, if it's not quite right, we don't want it. Marriage is not some kind of badge of honor we’re hoping to collect so that we “fit in”. It's a decision that requires more than blind faith.
And so that is why, (as many of you already know) Daniel and I have decided to get married. Didn't see that coming, didja?!
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