Sunday, May 24, 2009

What's today, anyway?

Wow, May 24. It's taken me two weeks just to tone down enough to realize things are OK. Not going exactly according to plan, but perfectly OK.

I'm still upstairs at my friend's house. The mortgage is moving at a glacial pace, and honestly, at this very moment, I can't bear to go into more detail than that. At least one person per day asks how it's going, and I have taken to describing the special hell that this is, and concluding with, "Please don't ask anymore. I'll let you know when something actually happens. Explaining it three separate times to mom, dad, and sister is enough. (Mom and Dad always get separate phone calls, Sister gets peeved if she gets information second-hand, even if it causes more stress for me.)

Now, being at my friend's house has brought blessings. First off, of course, is a safe and lovely place to live. I miss my cat, but I visit often, and her URI has cleared up nicely. I miss cooking but don't seem to be starving. It is a little odd having someone else wash my few dishes and do my laundry...that's part of the deal of living here. It was very hard for me to accept that help. I don't want to be a bother, and I'm used to taking care of everything.

But what being here has done is given me the gift of time. Since I'm not dealing with many of the practical details of life, I'm not getting so slammed with the mortgage crap. I'm better rested. I have time to just rest, quietly, and a beautiful side effect of that is having some creative ideas coming back. The will to be creative is returning. I'm not quite ready to have a book or fiber design burst forth, but I feel like I have enough energy to get started again.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Amendment to Plan D.

I really love it when you ask for a miracle and you get one.

I don't have to worry about couch-surfing at Mom's after this week. Don't get me wrong, Mom and I get along quite well. But she lives in a one-bedroom apartment. There would be an inflatable mattress in the future, which is OK for a night or two, but not for three weeks (worst-case scenario). Growling and hurt feelings would be inevitable.

My hairdresser, who is also a good friend, called yesterday to alert me to a different situation, and after that was resolved, we got to talking about my housing woes. She lives in the downstairs of her house, and has her shop there as well. The three upstairs bedrooms are rented out on a short-term basis, often to glass artists who are in town to study at CMoG. I was positive that she had rented them out for the LPGA tournament coming to town this coming weekend (and the catalyst for this crisis), but I planned to ask when I get my haircut on Monday if she had any other good ideas. (She's a town native and knows pretty much everyone.) Turns out she doesn't often rent them for this particular event. I have a place to stay until June 7. It is an almost indescribable relief.

So I will have a bedroom with a microwave, little fridge, cable/wireless, and hot water. The only thing I need to figure out is what to do with my cat Mitzie, but that's minor compared to being almost homeless.

Friday, May 8, 2009

At least the alphabet goes to "Z."

Plan A: close on house and move in. Paint kitchen yellow, install appliances, throw potluck, drink copious amounts of wine, play music on the porch. Acoustic, of course.


Plan B: move on to second mortgage company, aim to close in early May, repeat Plan A.


Plan C: move into landlord's extra apartment (read: I lived in better places in college) until a pre-possession agreement is completed, thus allowing me to move into the house before closing.

Sigh. No hot water heater in extra apartment. I'm actually relieved by this. It's a DUMP.

Plan D: Remain in current apartment, but take out every last non-essential item and put in storage next door. Think about it as stripping down for battle. Vacate apartment next Thursday. Go to sister's Friday night, seeing as we're going to Philadelphia Saturday morning anyway. Stay Saturday night at sister's as well. Probably couch-surf at Mom's after that. Cross fingers that this extra week will a) get me that much closer to a closing date, which will lead to b) getting the pre-possession agreement. Return to Plan A.

And just in case:

Plan Z: Reserve space in the Behavioral Health Unit at Cayuga Medical Center.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

So unoriginal...

But I'm not sure I have the brain cells to BE original. So I give you:


1. My head is less full of snot and my voice is back. (I completely lost it for two days.) However, the allergies seem to be moving house into my eyes. Either that, or I'm on the verge of a yeast infection brought on by the antibiotics. Yes, in my eyes. It's happened before and is quite unpleasant.

2. I too will be moving house this weekend. Hopefully into the house I'm buying, in a prepossession agreement. Apartmentia is being absorbed into the larger borders of the Pine Street Apartments. If not into my house, then into a currently empty apartment of my landlord's. In a different house. I prefer the former. Can you guess why?

3. This doesn't mean I'll be closing on my house. It means that Apartmentia has been rented to the New Guy currently in the furnished, all-inclusive (read: expensive) apartment next door. It also means that New Guy's apartment has been promised to people coming in for the LPGA tournament next week (read: WICKED expensive).

4. I probably won't close for another three weeks, and that's being very optimistic.

5. The current mortgage industry is a slow-moving barge, and I am caught in its wake. It would appear that lenders are looking for ways NOT to lend, and are going through applications and such with a fine-toothed comb. Which is just dandy: for how long did they lend insane amounts to people who couldn't verify their employment? And now that people like me and a couple of my friends (you know, the ones with steady jobs, downpayments, and reasonable expectations of what we can afford) are getting screwed. It won't be any bailout money or liquidation of "toxic assets" that drags the housing market up: it will be the lenders deciding to do what they're supposed to do. And that is LEND RESPONSIBLY. (Starting with me, of course.) As usual, it will be the middle class, the backbone of our nation, that shoulders the burden.

6. Sorry if that last sentence is offensive. After a month and a half of getting jerked around, it's the only conclusion I can draw about the situation.

7. I wish it would rain...