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impyA tale of two (town)houses. One is right down the street from us. I fell in love. I did all the stuff myself and was an ~adult~ and told my crippling social anxiety to go fuck itself because I'm not going to take it anymore!
And the agent liked me. I think she still likes me, but that's also their job to be friendly so who knows. I was hoping this would be my take on the story of how the family wound up with the house I grew up in: the person who sold the house adored your grandmother and wanted her to have the house, so they made it work.
Mom found a place on CL. It's not that far from here. We looked on Sunday and I'm not sure how I would have felt about the place if I didn't love the place I found, truthfully. But since I'd already fallen for one, my heart had no room for another.
I think you all know where this is going, right?
Applications were filled out and sent yesterday. Questions asked and answered and then we began waiting.
I stayed up til around 8ish this morning and then fell asleep. When I awoke, I had an email and a voicemail. Since I didn't recognize the voice mail's number, I went with email first.
Which pretty much sums up my various reactions to being told no, your debt to income ratio is too high.
The irony, ladies and gentlemen, is that today one of my credit cards said, "Aw, you're adorable, we'll double your limit." Even better, it wasn't the one with the smallest limit doing this, so... for me, it's a BFD. Oh, irony. You're so... ironic.
But the rejection still sent me back to the mindframe of when we tried to get the car and all it did for me was tank my credit score. (Seriously. You can tell exactly when we got the car by looking at my credit score. "Hey, not too bad" turns into "selling drugs would yield a better credit score than this...")
I wanted this place so bad, guys.
Sigh. I checked my voicemail and found out we got the other place.
Basically restrained celebrations because, y'know, still heart broken.
The downsides are there (smaller, pool is pretty far away and the parking lot will fuck your car up trying to get into it as well as the odds being good of a tennis ball being lobbed over the fence to strike you or your car at any time, smaller, smaller, and the world's tiniest walkway)
But... I attempt to stay positive.
Because as soon as we pay the security deposit, I can stop worrying about the damn housing situation being up in the air and instead, turn my worry to wtf are we going to do with all this stuff?
(Answer: The boy's stuff will just have to go elsewhere. Maybe a storage unit for the rest...?)
I wish I were happier, but I don't process emotions fast enough to go from seriously unhappy to deliriously happy within the span of a few seconds or even hours.
I'll keep you posted. Oh, and we'll be moving the weekend of the 18th, although we'll be keeping this place through the end of July, I believe, because we have to clean and also trying to cram all the moving into one day is just not cool. Oh, fine, it's because I want to keep using the pool. Fine. You caught me.
And the agent liked me. I think she still likes me, but that's also their job to be friendly so who knows. I was hoping this would be my take on the story of how the family wound up with the house I grew up in: the person who sold the house adored your grandmother and wanted her to have the house, so they made it work.
Mom found a place on CL. It's not that far from here. We looked on Sunday and I'm not sure how I would have felt about the place if I didn't love the place I found, truthfully. But since I'd already fallen for one, my heart had no room for another.
I think you all know where this is going, right?
Applications were filled out and sent yesterday. Questions asked and answered and then we began waiting.
I stayed up til around 8ish this morning and then fell asleep. When I awoke, I had an email and a voicemail. Since I didn't recognize the voice mail's number, I went with email first.
Which pretty much sums up my various reactions to being told no, your debt to income ratio is too high.
The irony, ladies and gentlemen, is that today one of my credit cards said, "Aw, you're adorable, we'll double your limit." Even better, it wasn't the one with the smallest limit doing this, so... for me, it's a BFD. Oh, irony. You're so... ironic.
But the rejection still sent me back to the mindframe of when we tried to get the car and all it did for me was tank my credit score. (Seriously. You can tell exactly when we got the car by looking at my credit score. "Hey, not too bad" turns into "selling drugs would yield a better credit score than this...")
I wanted this place so bad, guys.
Sigh. I checked my voicemail and found out we got the other place.
Basically restrained celebrations because, y'know, still heart broken.
- On the plus side for this place, it's cheaper all the way around the board, from utilities to rent, to security deposit.
- It's smaller which only has one pro: the boy absolutely cannot stay at all. Ever. HA.
- It comes with a couch. And small bookcases.
- I get my own balcony.
- Hardwood floors downstairs.
- The kitchen is larger, although oddly shaped.
- There's a mini bar area.
- Pool access.
- There's a shelf above the washer/dryer.
- Linen closet does exist.
The downsides are there (smaller, pool is pretty far away and the parking lot will fuck your car up trying to get into it as well as the odds being good of a tennis ball being lobbed over the fence to strike you or your car at any time, smaller, smaller, and the world's tiniest walkway)
But... I attempt to stay positive.
Because as soon as we pay the security deposit, I can stop worrying about the damn housing situation being up in the air and instead, turn my worry to wtf are we going to do with all this stuff?
(Answer: The boy's stuff will just have to go elsewhere. Maybe a storage unit for the rest...?)
I wish I were happier, but I don't process emotions fast enough to go from seriously unhappy to deliriously happy within the span of a few seconds or even hours.
I'll keep you posted. Oh, and we'll be moving the weekend of the 18th, although we'll be keeping this place through the end of July, I believe, because we have to clean and also trying to cram all the moving into one day is just not cool. Oh, fine, it's because I want to keep using the pool. Fine. You caught me.
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Date: 2014-06-26 08:12 pm (UTC)Hunh. I thought I was going to like Isabelle's new outfit more but it looks oddly shiny. And I'm kinda dying that her caboodle costs more than a functional one for a person.
Eeee! 61 is a reality! And their failtography continues to live up to its name.
Oooh, new pets! The magnet mouths are back! And they're poseable. But are they poseable like Cooper the labradoodle was poseable? Which is to say not at all?
Holy crap that bed is expensive!
New kitty! Ho-shit, $28, really? Add a collar for $16 more?
After a cursory run through of the new section, I am left to conclude that the 80's came back and scribbled all over everything. That is a lot of patterns all thrown together. And prints, too. I wish they'd gone the Isabelle route and made some of it mix n match because I like some pieces and some I'm on the fence about (time to resume haunting PT!) and some I'm pretty sure I would burn with fire if offered the chance.
New rings!
Considering the weirdness that went on in getting this place, I'm not really sure what the fates could be sparing us from but hey. I've inched closer to hopeful.