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| Blogs > Canus2011 > Adventure my ass! |
Picking up speed (or trying to)
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Picking up speed (or trying to) Crap, but I have a bunch of stuff to write about. I had my first "real" date in three years the night before last. I mentioned in another entry that it was going to happen, but the details of it really just beg to be shared in a blog. Unfortunately, it's not going to be this one ...but it really will make an awesome fucking story (actually, just an awesome story ...fucking will never even remotely enter that particular conversation). I won't say it was a disaster because I enjoyed the conversation and such, but not only will no second date EVER come about ...it was the kind of "date" that stereotypes are made of. The date wasn't the highlight for Wednesday though ...not even close. A few entries back, I had been looking at a condo that was the victim of a well-intentioned do it yourself home improvement project. Given the amount of work it was going to take to redo their "updates" ...I made an offer that I wouldn't be pushing the financial line TOO much by taking on. They rejected it. On my Realtor's advice, I went a little bit higher ...I had actually been under the impression that they had made an informal counter-offer, but nope. They flatly rejected that one as well and said exactly what they would take ...and I pretty well thought they were dreaming. Not that it was necessarily unfair so much as unrealistic. If there was a person with cash who was willing to live with the gawdawful colors and poor craftsmanship, then MAYBE. So to continue: I've been getting antsy. I haven't been able to find much in my price range in an area that I would be amenable to living in. Lots of places in my price range, but all in areas I don't care for. Nothing else has been coming up in this particular complex ...where I've really wanted to move all along. It's the devil I know. I'd been starting to turn over in my head the possibility of going ahead and overpaying a little bit for the ugly place. I could (barely) afford to do the major work, and once the rest of the estate was liquidated, I could do whatever remained. I ALMOST had myself talked into it ...I was a little nervous because for reasons I won't go into, I wanted to wait until the first part of March to make up my mind; then I noticed in the history of the unit, that the people had it on the market in 2013, and took it off again in mid-February of last year. There is a possibility that a time limit might be in place. I notice this Wednesday morning. I have a date Wednesday night. About an hour and a half before my date, my Realtor calls and asks if I'm still interested in the condo for that last offer that I made!? I'm guessing that the folks haven't had any nibbles in the meantime, but the answer (of course) was "Oh HELL yeah!" As of this morning I am under contract with a closing date of March 20th; barring me backing out in the next seven days (always a remote possibility if the contractors tell me anything beyond the pale on Monday), it's mostly a done deal. I shall be the owner of a somewhat older 2 bedroom town home in Irving, and I am VERY excited! ...like, "losing sleep over it" excited even. The last two nights I've had trouble sleeping; my mind keeps turning in circles about what colors I want to paint and carpet in, how I'm going to arrange furniture ...where I'm going to put all the crap I have, and what I'm going to have to get rid of and what I'm going to have to buy new. I have a LOT to consider, and now I'm a bit closer to having a sense of urgency about getting the house here all wrapped up as well. My Realtor is doing a decent job. I don't like the guy at all, but I do trust him (not by virtue of personality so much that he was recommended by a gal who would crucify him if he fucked me over). He's capable, he knows his business, and he came through on getting me the lower price. I'm really good with seemingly unrelated tangents, and here goes. My sister (the executor of the estate) called and asked about my Dad's rings the other day ...her husband has joined the Freemasons, and my Dad was a member when he lived in Louisiana; after Mom died, BIL said he thought he saw a ring with the masonic symbols (compass and ruler) among all the<b> jewelry. </font></b>I thought I knew the ring he was talking about (it wasn't Masonic though), and said he was welcome to it if he wanted it. Tangent number two: I've always had a point of pride that when my paternal Grandmother died, all the grandkids were told we should go through the house and pick one item to take that would remind us of Grandma. The other cousins made a beeline to the bedroom and the jewelry, where my siblings and I walked the living room and kitchen. I took a handmade cookie jar that I filched a LOT of cookies from when I was a ...and my siblings were absolutely green with envy that they hadn't thought of it first! The cousins however, took stuff that they thought would be worth the most money. I've always felt a bit of pride that my family was above such petty crap; it's been disillusioning to find out otherwise. Back to tangent one: My sister asked if she could have Mom's<b> jewelry </font></b>after Mom died ...after letting Aunt's and some cousins take whatever (we were below poverty level growing up, so not MANY "valuables" although many things of high sentimental value). I really don't "get" the whole<b> jewelry </font></b>thing ...I've never worn it and it's only a blip on my radar until a pattern emerges. My brothers didn't want any of it, I have no need of it, so of course she can take it. Right after Mom died, Sis and BIL made quite a production about how everything in the house is "mine" and they'd ask if there were anything they might happen to want. We want Mom's<b> jewelry ...</font></b>oh, and can I have her wedding ring too? Sure thing ...not like I have any need for it. The other night: "Oh wow, I don't see a Mason ring in here, is it okay if I just take ALL of Dad's jewelry, so BIL can go through it and we'll just bring you back what's left? ...oh, and by the way ...can I have all of the silver too (we have a fair bit of silverware ...the real stuff)." I let her take the<b> jewelry </font></b>and didn't answer on the silver. I don't need it either, but I'm starting to detect a pattern here that seems suspiciously akin to "do you mind if I take everything that has actual monetary value and leave the sentimental and junk stuff with you?" I've spent the last month and a half repairing neglect on the '49 Ford that they had such a huge "sentimental" stake in (yeah, the one he drug out with a tractor without even airing up the 4 flat tires ...because that's how you treat things that you love so much). Also from the other night while she was here getting the last of the jewelry: "I want you to get a little busier on trying to find your own place. I'm starting to get a little bit ansty about liquidating the estate and think you should be trying to move a little bit faster; I think you'll be much happier once you're in your own place anyway." Almost verbatim there. ...subtle as a cinderblock from a third floor window. That's my sister. Once the estate is liquidated and life returns to what passes for normal, I'm sure she will be very hurt that even I won't have much to do with her (that ship sailed with my two brothers some time ago). Back to the story about not liking the Realtor very much. After the call about being under contract now, he asked if I had told my sister yet and I said no I had not. He asked my permission to tell her himself so he could get started on things with her on Mom's house. I told him that he was not to tell my sister about it under any circumstances; I would tell her myself once I had EVERYTHING in hand with the condo (and not before). He didn't sound happy about it, but said okay. Fuck. her. I love my big sister, but I don't always like her very much. I also know her well enough to know that the moment she finds out that I have the new place in hand, she's going to be badgering me to hurry every step of the way. She said in no uncertain terms that she and BIL would NOT be available to help me move, but they might go for paying for a mover from the estate money depending on the house account(s). Essentially, I'm expecting to be badgered to hurry while offering absolutely no help with the process. Compared to my brother in Waco: "I need you to be as specific with me as possible about WHEN you are wanting to do the actual move. The more advance notice you give me, the more people I can have available to come up with me and help." Also "If you need me to come up and help with anything, just let me know." Other brother is in Florida now. *sigh* If he were still local, he'd be here too. I'm on my way! I grudgingly admit that my sister is correct in that I will indeed be much happier once I'm out of Mom's house; I don't know that I'll truly be able to process my grief until that happens. Had it come from a place other than self-interest on her part, I might be a bit less miffed about it. Tact has never been a major trait in my family though, so I hate to throw too many rocks. ...okay, well maybe just one or two little ones. |
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wow, quite the turnaround on the condo, I hope the contractor visit goes well! But bummer on the date, were your thoughts about being manipulated right?
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