Month: October 2013

I think I want to buy a home. I don’t know if I can buy a home, so I’m finding out everything I can about it. I will be post my progress here from time to time. Part one is here. Part two is here.

My roommate and I are both trying to make Big Purchases — her, a boat (on which she’ll live); me, a home (in which I’ll live, on land). Roomie is a wonderful, creative, well-adjusted human, the sort of person whose advice I’ll often seek and take. We’ve been talking a lot about Managing the dreaded Expectations.

She’s getting close to finalizing her purchase, although as it often goes, it is not over until every last paper is signed, every last penny is wired, every last decision rethought.

I am not close. My share of the house sale is still pending and the amount will be less than what was calculated by my loan guy. Dismaying to have a significantly lower down payment as the housing prices are continuing to rise out, out, out of my reach.

Both of us are very cautious and really examining our vows to keep expectations in check. What if this purchase doesn’t happen for her? What if owning a home will never happen for me? If our expectations were in check, it wouldn’t feel so bad. But it’s feeling bad.

I’m okay — for now. Though I despise renting, I live in a relatively affordable apartment, which will be all mine when (and IF) roomie’s boat dream becomes a reality. But looking ahead to the rest of my life dealing with loud neighbors, vertical blinds (gag), deposits, property managers, over and over again… Oh dear me. It makes me sad. Especially so because I’m close, so close, but all the ducks need to be in a row and those damn ducks may not get there.

It’s not like I have to let go of the dream, but I need to loosen my grasp a little. It’s the hard reality of doing what I do, in the age that I live in; destined to be hovering slightly over the poverty line, with many decks stacked against a single earner like me. Ah, now I see what rich husbands are for.

I do see a happy life for the next few months, least. I love where I live, there’s a good chance I will be able to get some of my possessions, cold-stored for lo these 3.5 years, out and unpacked. I love my roommate, so if she has to keep her expectations lower than expected for a while, we’ll get through it together.

And I’ll keep Pinning interesting home decor ideas. I have to have some kind of hope, right?

We’re done here. House clean and empty, escrow closed, done deal. I am officially living in an adorable apartment with a friend, and actually doing some UNpacking, at least for a while. Here are some tips.

DON’T have an emergency the final week of closing.

Poor stepdad has a lot of things wrong with him right now. He’s doing better than he was when this picture was snapped.

DO find loved ones to take the most precious objects.

A & J and the ship my stepdad built. It’s called the Maggie, after my mom. Easier to let go into the hands of friends.

DON’T feel bad about giving it the ol’ college try.

Tried to sell my family’s furniture, but on the whole did not succeed. Maybe someone at Habitat for Humanity will see this stuff and fall in love.

DO make things easier on the new owners.

Phone books, more important than you think if you don’t have your internet set up yet. Appliance manuals for LITERALLY every appliance in the house, compiled by my supremely organized late mom.

Label your paint and leave it for the owners. 

DON’T dwell on pictures like these.

Instant PTSD when I look at that. Getting a grip on the nightmare garage was the subject of my sister’s “what I did on my summer non-vacation” essay.

Seriously, stop dwelling on the seemingly neverending backbreaking work you sacrificed your summer for.

Don’t try to imagine a spacious 3-bedroom home with every single drawer and cabinet and closet packed full of STUFF. Don’t. Think of your vacation instead:

DO pat yourself on the back.

The final chapter of this saga comes with some surprises and disappointments, but that doesn’t take away from all the good work that got done by Annie, Peter, Sam, Neal, Jeremy, Ethan, Judy, Jeanie, Lori, and countless others. And the discovery of my mad skills as a stager are not to be underestimated. Pat pat pat!

DO take a breather.

This is where I am, right now! Sun-flooded kitchen, cup of coffee.

DO reflect on things, if that helps.

Leave key, walk out door. Such an anticlimax to selling a house! I didn’t feel wistful or weird — that came with disconnecting the phone number my mom had for 35 years. This is the last home of my mom, the possessions within were the last of her items, now forever scattered to all corners of the family. The door closed on something important — not slammed, but softly, with a final, but friendly, click.