On Being Average
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I move in to my place on 12/10. And I’ve got my binoculars ready for you people in the East Bay I can see from my living room window… 🙂
Central Valley
Things that suck about driving in the Central Valley:
– Trucks. About a billion of them, mostly Wal-Mart.
– Harris Ranch, specifically it’s feed lot. Downright disgusting.
– Lars Larsen, right wing nut job who I listen to mostly to stay awake — because I get so damn mad. Tonight, he was lamenting FEMA paying for hotel rooms for the displaced Katrina victims, and was making a national crisis out of prisoners profiting from selling their “art.” (Of zero interest: is housing available for the displaced? How the hell can a prisoner even spend his money? Buy a fetching Vitton bag at the commissary?)
– Food choices existing only of McD’s, Wendy’s, Carl’s Jr, and other crap options which have an ‘s in them
– Yokels that want to race in their F-150’s or “hemi” trucks
Things that suck about getting out of LA and even into the Central Valley:
– The 405.
Good things:
– Cows. (Excluding the doomed ones in the feed lot.) I like moo-moos, especially when they’re grazing, with calfs running around. Adorable. (Okay, and delicious…)
Time for bed.
Preach, Teach, Marry, and Bury
Thanks to the Universal Life Church you can become ordained online in about 3 minutes. And it’s all legit. I’m Rev. Schmeeve.
Speaking of all things holy, check out Outchurched, a Podcast/blog run by a friend of mine, the honorable Rev. Dan.
Also, I became a home owner today… more on that later.
Yuppie Scum… Interrupted
So, the house fell through. Not my fault. I lost no money, blah, blah, blah.
But I’ve come to two conclusions: when buying a house, banks are your friend and realtors are dicks.
First, a little background. The house appraised for far less than I was paying for it. There was some question as to whether the appraiser was qualified for SF and the area, so that brought some level of vagueness into the picture. It was given a peer review at the appraisal company and still came in far under. Comps for the area made everything very questionable, making it seem almost a bargain. All sorts of conflicting data, but I need to be primarily concerned with resale value.
Let me explain the rest. The bank basically has the same interest as you: they will only float a loan as long as what you’re buying is deemed worth the price. This makes sense simply because if they have to foreclose, they do not want to loose money. Like, um, duh. Also, my loan agent is forthright and completely honest — a friend of a friend who I will recommend to anyone any day of the week. In a nutshell, she kicks ass.
Secondly, my realtor, who is supposed to work on my behalf, was lobbying me to buy something despite me having all evidence to the contrary. When things were falling apart today, all he could really offer me was “Oh, well, if you want to come up with the difference in cash, you can still buy it! You should consider that!” My response: “Oh, yeah, I’ve got a fucking money tree in the backyard with $65k ripe and ready to fall off. Um, are you fucking retarded?” Aside from that, he was offering up his own appraiser to the loan agent — without telling me. Oh, and prior to that, he tried to tell me the selling agent wanted to close early, when in fact he had a planned vacation and just wanted to collect his payday before his holiday. Nutshell: he wants to get paid, and basically had no interest in my long-term success, despite being my neighbor for the past 7 years!
Moving along… I’m gonna keep looking. My heart wasn’t in this place, so I’m just fine with the fall-out. I didn’t loose any money, and I will find the right place… as soon as I find a new realtor.
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In a completely unrelated topic, happy anniversary to Mike & Stacy. And special praise to Stacy for putting up with that crusty old fuck for a full year. 🙂
Yuppie Scum
I bought a house. It’s a perfectly adorable little 2 bedroom in Twin Peaks. Nice deck, garage, hardwood, stainless appliances, rock-solid inspection and earthquake bracing. It cost a small fortune, and I’ve been freaking out — totally freaking the fuck out — about it ever since. Can I afford it? How the hell will I move my boat anchor of a TV? Do I really need 7 years of Macworld back-issues? Will my neighbor in the building be a dick? Mostly it’s that first one — how the holy fucking hell am I going to afford this thing?!
It was very un-San Francisco. It was my first bid, I bid slightly under, and it was accepted. Pest is only $400 — I guess the average being about $5000 in SF.
I feel so, uh, ‘adult.’
Here’s a few pictures:
T-2:36
Until I turn another year older — technically. The good news is I already look 40. Hopefully I can just grow into it now.
Also, I’m missing your present. So get on it…
Ho Ho Ho
I’ve been to two grocery stores today, and in both cases, the whole thing just left me kinda down. It’s that mix of cheery Christmas music pumped out of tin-cans in the ceiling, harsh overhead florescence, plasticy non-denominational holiday displays, and a sparsely populated store which only features trance-like pseudo-people who move slowly and keep their heads down. Depressing.
Kinda like a post-apocalyptical movie starring Lori Petty in a lesbian haircut sporting a super-weapon, some sweaty dude with an itchy trigger finger and a British accent in toe — and right before something upsettingly awful happens.
Perhaps tomorrow I’ll head down to Union Square to have some manufactured holiday cheer forcibly shoved up my ass while buying overpriced trinkets for people I could care less about. Now, that is what Christmas is all about!
Ugh 2
Plane’s now 1:30 late, meaning I won’t make my connection.
It’s undergoing “aircraft service.” In airline speak, this can translated as such:
– Pesky things which tend to put your company insurance in jeopardy: engine failure, landing gear, hydraulics, etc. I’ve seen them fly these wide-bodies trans-con with only 1 working bathroom, so I know it’s not something as trivial as that which horribly inconveniences passengers — it’s just of concern when they might kill you.
– Cockroach infestation (this actually grounded a Delta flight in Atlanta several years ago)
– Dr. Phil arguing with gate agent adamant he is not a “customer of size.”
– Crew still at Power Exchange, whie complaining there’s more tops in Boston.
Oh, there’s my plane… whee!
Oh, and rainman is at my gate shouting out facts randomly as planes glide by:
“747-400”
“780K tons”
Ugh
So it’s 6:45am, I’ve been up since 4:15, my plane is already delayed 30 minutes and the dude across from me is wearing a “Revenge of the Sith” T-shirt, his carry-on sporting a giant Xbox logo. I hate him.
It’s gonna be one of those days…
Oh, Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
I suppose it could be worse.
And why isn’t flightsuit boy serving the troops this year? Could it be that “surprise visit” last year was merely to use the troops as an election prop? No, couldn’t be.
Rev. Falwell is giving thanks, too.
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