Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Home? Again?

So I'm back in South Carolina. Somehow, it was less expensive for us to buy a round trip plane ticket and rent a (fiesty red) car for 3 days than to pay for 3 weeks of furniture storage and the ensuing loadings and unloadings.

So fly I did, although after the landing I was treated to at Reagan International this afternoon I'm extra-special not too excited about the flying. I'm no chicken, but let's face it - you're on a charter bus with wings, and waaaaaaay the hell up in the sky. There's no string from space or giant metal crane moving you around, which is what I'd prefer to believe. Honestly, I actually audibly sighed with relief when I had the guts to look back out the window and saw that we were probably close enough to the ground to survive. That is how bad the landing was. It was really windy so at least it wasn't the pilot torturing us or .... you know... falling jet engines. But still. I don't want to bad-mouth the airline because 1) I like them and 2) I don't want my miles to become worthless. Wind is not under their control, and we lived. They are not inherently evil like United. *ahem*

Anyway, here I am in the cold 3 bedroom house with all my worldly possessions save a few cats and some clothes. Also without Paul although I'd hardly consider a husband a possession. I can still hear the echos of the nnneeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrr of the fiesty red rental chevy cavalier's engine. I never realized how much I rely on automatic locks, or how often I adjust the radio volume using the control on the steering wheel (LOVE YOU, HONDA!!!!). I can't complain too much about the little rental though - it's cheap! And my existance here with a car came in handy this evening when Sandy locked her keys in the bookstore. We got to hang out this evening, had our traditional Taco Bell feast, and while we waited for her dad to get home where the spare keys live we instigated the Great Purge of 2006. This is like Operation GROSs, but faster. Most of the purge was old mail that should have been tossed immediately and/or Items of Dubious Age from the fridge. Which reminds me.... anybody want a frozen sausage casserole? It's tasty...

The first rule of the Great Purge is that it's probably expired anyway.

I want you all to know that there was another bag already outside, and that the luggage is just for scale.

Did you know that after hairy knuckles, the second sign of insanity is taking pictures of your trash?

People are coming to pack my house between 9 and 10 in the morning. That means I have to go get coffee before then. I'm three sheets to the wind (am I using this right??) and buying pre-made coffee and eating all meals out while I'm here, just to simplify things. I don't remember if the three sheets phrase means you're crazy or drunk, so assume that I'm afflicted with one or the other until further notice.

Judy, as far as I know, my mail should forward. However, if you haven't mailed yet I'll send you the next address on my chain of addresses...

Speaking of addresses.....

Remember how I said our mortgage approval went through in 2.5 hours? No? Well good because apparently it was some sort of mortgage hocus pocus. 2.5 hours after our application was delivered, the mortgage folk faxed a commitment (yup, you're in! approved! whatever!) to the seller's real estate agent, who then faxed it to our attorney, who then called Paul's stepfather (another topic entirely) who called us and said we're approved. All that Paul and I got from this wacky adult version of the Telephone Game was "You're Approved!"

We waited (patiently!!) for the glorious forms to come in writing. I finally called this Tuesday, and asked that they send another copy of the commitment papers so I could do the homeowner's insurance stuff, and they said....

drumroll please.....

"You aren't approved yet." What?? "The lender had some questions." We went through a mortgage broker so that wasn't such a surprise, but ... ummmmm..... lies? hate? rage?

I called our attorney to find out what his deal was, and he told me what he had (and it was a legitimate approval, so I didn't turn into the hulk). Which led to him conference calling the mortgage folk with me on the line. It turns out, in so, so many more words and evasive answers, that they got us approved through some bank to satisfy the offer on the house deadline but were working on getting us approved on a better loan. A better loan with exactly the same terms, for me anyway. Clearly there are better terms for the broker, but I digress. Let us not go into the 10 years of my life I lost yesterday afternoon, or the damage inflicted on my karma by hate and rage. Or the fact that nobody calls the number listed as the primary contact, they call the number that goes to a man. The mortgage people finally got word at about 4:30 today that we were indeed approved for the loan they wanted us to have. Hrmph.

So now all I can do is kick back, watch other people go through everything I own and portion it into boxes, and try to convince the wind to please not blow quite so hard on Saturday. Because my nerves can't take this.


Rhett said...

Wow, what an eventful last few days. Good luck today! Don't let them pack the laptop... or the laptop cord! I am sure this move could be something to document! :)

Judy said...

Three sheets to the wind is drunk...I prefer to think you are temporarily in that condition rather than permanently crazy anyway! ;-)

Drives me crazy when real estate (and other) people assume the man is the only one qualified to make decisions. You'd THINK they would have learned by now that it isn't the case, wouldn't you?

I haven't sent it yet, so email me the current address, OK?

Kim said...

Car dealers do that too, only talk to the man. It's like, Hi, do I need to wave the dollah bills in your face? Ugh.

Good luck! I'm sure everything will be fine, but it's no fun being stressed out ABOUT POSSIBLE HOMELESSNESS. No matter how remote the possibility. Yeesh.