Feb 09 2007

breathe. breathe.

Hey! Yeah! We’re in escrow!


Feb 09 2007


President Bush just proposed drastic cuts to NPR and PBS.

We need Congress to save NPR and PBS once and for all.

Can you help out by signing this petition to Congress? It’s really easy- just click the link below:


Feb 08 2007


Yesterday we were told that the final offer was being faxed around and signed and that, barring anything weird, we would be in escrow today.


Except, we’ve had no word today.


Um…yeah. That’s all I know.

Feb 08 2007

Well that kinda came out of nowhere!

Holy Crap!

Does anyone else smell something fishy…?

Feb 08 2007

Well HELLO there!

I’m back today. I went home yesterday with a back that was threatening to leave me immobile and a stomach doing its best to torture me. It just wasn’t a good day to be at work.

I was home for most of the day by myself, which was kind of a nice change. I actually READ! I know! Can you believe it?! I got started on the first book of the His Dark Materials series, and I am already in love. I made it about halfway through before I realized that I should get some sleep while I had the chance. It was really hard to put the book down, though. They are meant for a “young adult” audience, but I don’t find them juvenile in any way so far. John says they will be making them into a movie. I have to try to read them all before that comes out.

But anyway- I’m back. Not 100%, but here all the same. My lower back is giving me a small slice of hell today, but I just have to deal with it.

Oh yeah, and we go into escrow today. Probably.

Feb 06 2007

Welcome back, Pointers!**

In all the craziness, I forgot to mention that I just recently got notice that the Class of 1997: Year of Apathy reunion is in the works. They decided to wait until less than 6 months before they’d like to hold it to gather addresses and actually get started. It’s really only fitting.

I think we’ll probably go to the Elk’s club, drink some beer, and dance badly to recorded music. Perhaps there will be a rousing round of cow-tipping at the end of the night. It would be nice if I could expect something fancier, but I’d just be kidding myself.

But we’ll go, if they actually get around to having it.

**It’s a movie reference. Do you know it?

Feb 05 2007

Okay- I’m going to let you all in on this because I really need advice and I’d like it from someone who is not directly involved.

Only, I’m going to give it to you in slightly different numbers because talking about money makes me a little queasy. So I’m going to talk about it but not talk about it- okay?

(Numbers have been changed to protect the queasy.)

The asking price for a house is $547,500.

You counter with $520,000.

They counter with $545,000.

You counter with $528,000.

They counter with $539,000.

You counter with $535,000.

They don’t accept and refuse to lower their price, but your Realtor will take $2000 off of his fees and THEIR Realtor will take $1000 off of HER fees just to get the insanity to stop.

What do you do?

A) Refuse the offer and walk the fuck away. There will be another house someday.

B) Take the offer. You really, really like this house and, though it will hurt your finances VERY much, CAN actually afford it.

C) Take the offer but ask that they guarantee not to sell to anyone else and that they pay for a Home Warranty.

D) None of the above.

If you choose none of the above you must discuss in essay format. Please cite your references following APA guidelines. Your response may be no longer than 5 pages, single spaced.

You have overnight to finish. Please make sure your name is at the top. In triplicate.

And initial here…

and here…

and here…

and here…

Feb 05 2007

Honestly- I would have updated you guys had there been any news. There was nothing. NOTHING. Y’know- weekends should count in the 3-day period in which they have to answer. It’s no fair to make us wait the weekend and then 3 days. No fair at all.

So we have no idea when we might hear. Hmpf.

Last night Cole did a faceplant into the pergo. I turned around , not realizing he was there, and he tripped over the toe of my shoe. He had things in both hands so he wasn’t able to break his fall properly. His hands slid out sideways and his face make a sickening wet smack sound on the floor. I picked him up and flipped him over and saw that his lip was already purple and was bleeding. Then my head blew up and I died. The end.

We applied copious amounts of grape popsicle and nuzzling. We distracted with books. The only thing we didn’t do, idiots that we are, is give him any pain medicine. DOH! His swollen, black-and-blue gums weren’t bad enough without pain meds- we have to give him a fat lip too. Builds Character!

After he was finished with his popsicle and snuggled in his grandfather’s lap reading books, I felt like all of the blood rushed out of my head. Really- it was like my eyes were sinking in, and my head was tingling as if it had gone to sleep. Like I slept on it funny and cut off the circulation.

After that episode was over (during which I actually turned down the back-rub my mom was giving me because I was so high-strung that it hurt to be touched), I was just worn out. I could have gone to bed that instant. Cole must have been worn out too, because he slept without moving through the night.

He was extra cranky-pants this morning. I don’t blame him.

It makes me realize even more than ever before how exhausting it must be to have a child with a chronic disease/problem. It’s not a quick crisis-then-over kind of situation; it’s a constant worry/wait/worry/wait/crisis!/worry/wait (repeat forever). At least, that’s what I imagine. It seems like you’d be living your life with that hanging over everything. I can’t imagine how wasted I would be if I had to live with that. I hope I never have to find out.

Anyway, it was a GORGEOUS weekend out here in California, which was wonderful but also frightening. If we don’t get some rain it’s going to be the worst year of drought in a long time. And I STILL have trouble flushing the toilet for just pee after the drought of my childhood. If it’s yellow- let it mellow! If it’s brown- flush it down!!

And I just had this unbelievable craving for a cheeseburger with pickles and onions only from McDonald’s. I haven’t had anything from McDonald’s for about 17 years or so. Huh… wonder where that came from?

Feb 02 2007

Stomach! I done TOLD you to shut up. Don’t MAKE me come in there!

We countered the house offer at just $4000 under their offer. We’re going for it. Our Realtor said they’d be stupid not to take it.

Damn I hope they take it.

In my head I have already moved in, arranged all my stuff, and possibly even spilled something on the rug. I’ll TOTALLY clean that up tomorrow, I swear.

My mother has even remembered the name of the road. I think we’ve moved in in HER head, too.

I now get physically ill whenever I think about it. It’s not the money- it’s the waiting; it’s the unknown; it’s the anticipation.


As a diversion I decided to count all the words that Cole can say. As of this morning, and I’m not sure it’s a complete list, he could say 71. Not bad, I think. And he says them well, too. He articulates very nicely.

I’ll let you know if I get any news.

Feb 01 2007

Ok! Hello! The House!

My sister is such a brat. But she’s awesome.

So anyway, the house: Not Yet Ours.

They came back and countered our counter, those asses. Now they are just $4000 above what we feel like we really want to pay for this place. They also claim that it’s absolutely as far as they can go.


What’s up with all these people thinking that they can get so much money for houses still? Those days are over!

So now I’m all tied up in knots of anxiety and stress and o-my-gawd-I-think-I-might-puke-ness over whether we should try to counter again with as high a number as we feel we could swing, or if we should just tell them where they can stick it and wait for the next house.

I’m so tired of waiting.

I’m so tired of looking. I’m so tired of wondering where we will be next. I’m tired of the games, I’m tired of the Realtors, I’m tired of signing my name.

Goddammit- I just want it to be over. It’s not fun, it’s not exciting, I’m not happy. I am getting stressed to what feels like my breaking point. I’m starting to wonder if $4000 is really worth fighting over when it fucks me up this much.


Perhaps I should make up a t-shirt that says “Please excuse my erratic, irrational, and inappropriate behavior- I’m trying to buy a house.”

Until it’s over, I’ll be the one in the corner with the box of tissues.