In an effort to follow the Blueprint of Happiness as close as humanly possible (because I'm the kind of person that can really fuck a thing up if I don't follow the directions), Ben and I have decided to take the plunge into the homeowner's pool (figuratively. We're not literally planning on jumping into some homeowner's pool, which would probably really mess up their homeowner's insurance and cause a whole mess of problems for everyone).Technically, we're not even suppose to start looking at places until April, but secretly, each of us looks at probably a million houses a day online, all in the name of research. But really, we have already decorated the insides of each and every one of these houses in our mind, him with Rothko paintings and tasteful golf paraphernalia, and me with Ric Flair action figures and my Tintin en Amerique poster.
I don't know why Ben is doing it, but my reasoning is perfectly clear: my boss is about to buy a house, and by God, I can't let him have something that I don't have.
But really, I'm not sure why I'm getting so worked up over this, considering how hectic our last house-hunting experience was-- the house we were living in sold, and we had three weeks to find a place, pack our shit, and be gone. Our lowest point during this turbulent time found us screaming Fuck You! a lot at the top of our lungs, and weeping bitterly during the song "Wake Me Up When September Ends." Okay, both of those things were really just me.
But then again, that was also the magical time that we met Hans, a jolly landlord of a property in Concord, who invited us onto his yacht for beer and a spin around Lake Erie. Hans let me drive the boat (although he called it navigating) and also told a guy on a Ski-Doo that he should take me for a ride on it, because, and I quote, "She's not wearing any underwear." Which I totally was, by the way.
We didn't end up taking Hans' condo, but we did drop some beer off at his house as a thank you for our time on the yacht, which prompted him to call us and invite us over to drink it with him. (I saved that voicemail for, like, three years.) We never did go help him drink it, and I still wonder sometimes what would have happened if we had.
Probably we would be chained up in his basement right now like dogs. But doesn't a yacht make everything seem that much more magical?
4 pipers piping:
I'm having trouble finding a place to RENT b/c it's over 2000 a month for a decent apartment. Can I live in your basement when you find a house?
I totally loved my buyer's agent: she treated us like her highest priority (even though our "price point" was probably the lowest on her list), took us to see a million houses, guided me through the whole process, answered all my neurotic questions, and everything went really smoothly. Let me know if you want her contact info!
Hey, if you're looking for a house, I know of a GREAT house in Chagrin Falls that's for sale!
I'll email you.
Also (god, I'm a pain in the ass, but I loved the whole process of buying a house so much), even if you're not planning on closing for a while, it's ok to start really looking early. I had my purchase agreement in place on February 9 (like, all the inspections were done and everything) and didn't close until April 27. It's a buyer's market, you'll have a lot of leverage, so getting a long closing really isn't impossible at all if you find the right place early. I know, I'm ridiculous. Sorry.
Post a Comment