27 July 2006
In quite possibly the last blog entry before I leave 6 Tiffany forever and
ever and always, all I have to say is... It's hard to drink all the milk
before you leave. I'm sure that's a metaphor for something.
Posted at 2218.
26 July 2006
When we got home from dinner at Tonali last night (dude, you have to check
it out - it rocks!), I ran into my soon-to-be-erstwhile neighbor boy, the
one who coveted my license plate birdfeeder. This time, he was riding his
bike around the cul-de-sac, which would have been a cute thing for a
little kid to do. Yet he was wearing... no, not the three-piece suit, but
full Boy Scout regalia. Complete with long pants, a long-sleeved shirt,
and the entire ascot-and-medals dealie. I'm fairly certain the Boy Scouts
have a shorts-and-short-sleeve outfit that would have been far more
conducive to biking around in July in North Carolina. What a weird kid.
Posted at 2234.
21 July 2006
I was waiting for Catherine at Mad Hatter this evening, and while I was
reading the menu, I heard someone say, "Tough day at the ranch?"
Wondering if he was talking to me, I turned around and met his eyes. "I'm
sorry, what?" He said, "It looks like you had a long hard day at the
ranch." I said, "Uh, heh heh, I guess." I have three little letters for
him: WTF?
Posted at 2224.
13 July 2006
So the cutest little tow-headed 8-year-old just showed up at my door. I
was worried at first, since he was decked out in a lovely navy blue
3-button suit with coordinating tie and cufflinks. He explained that he
lives just around the bend and walks to school through the creek in back
of the house. He's an avid collector of license plates, he told me, and
has admired the birdhouse that Fuzz built out of plates years ago. He
proceeded to rattle off the states he currently had, as well as their
numbers!, and explain that he didn't have an old New Jersey or any
Floridas, which are both on the birdhouse. He said that when he noticed
the for-sale sign in the yard, he thought perhaps we wouldn't want to move
the birdhouse with us, and perhaps he could buy it from me. Adorable. So
I gave it to him. I did actually have to cut a branch off the tree -
because in the several years it's been up there, a branch grew straight up
out of the end and was blocking the way to get it off - but he was so
happy. He said he's going to ask his dad to dismantle it as soon as
possible so that he can have the plates. And offered me a discount
carwash where his dad works.
Anyway. I just thought it was so hilarious that an 8-year-old would show
up in a full suit to call on his neighbor. Now
those are nice
Southern manners. He's going to grow up to be a real estate tycoon or a
pimp. One of the two.
In other news, I had a really bad
spoonerism earlier. I
was talking to
the physical therapist about trepanation, and I said, "I hope I never have
to have a whore bowled in me." Whoops.
Posted at 1904.
12 July 2006
I was in Charlottesville last weekend, since my brother came into town
from Vegas. I hadn't seen him in well over a year - somehow, we were
never on the same coast at the same time. But now that my grandparents
have moved up to Virginia, we got a nice little family reunion going with
brunch at a
bougie
country club (you
know it's bougie when its website sings at you):
Grandpa, MaryAnn, Me, Doods, Marla, and Mom
If you're wondering why the picture's kind of crooked and our legs are cut
off -
Lefty took it.
And my mom and I giggled hysterically after making Patrick's cat look like
a drunk:
Posted at 0829.
10 July 2006
The realtor with all the lockbox trouble ended up selling our house. So
that's good. I get to talk to the contractor today and get him to start
on the siding tomorrow. The glass guy is coming tomorrow to fix the
windows. The house is still "take backup," though, so it was shown
yesterday. The feedback was pretty normal: they liked the house, thought
the siding looked bad, thought the price was too high. Under "additional
comments," the realtor had added, "Neighbor smoking pot in the front
yard." Yeah. I haven't even met this new neighbor yet, but that would
explain why she and some friends were up cackling well past 2am.
Posted at 0846.
6 July 2006
So Bryan fixed the lock box and all was well with the house. I got a call
early yesterday morning that the dumb realtor wanted to do a second
showing that afternoon. By evening, we had an offer on the house. They
want a lot of cash up front at closing, more than we're willing to give,
so hopefully we can negotiate something. Honestly, I don't understand
cash at closing. If you're a first-time home buyer, I know that it's hard
to scare up about $10k up front, which is probably the minimum required to
buy a house these days. But if you can't do it, you shouldn't ask me as
the seller to give you $5k of that. I'm not giving anyone $5k to buy my
house because they don't have enough money. That's just backwards. When
we bought the house in Durham, we paid full price and got $1k cash at
closing. No one cut us any breaks, so I'm not sure why we need to do so
now.
Oh, and when you're buying your first home... never
ever ask for
carpet to be replaced or money towards carpet. As long as there are no
holes in the floor, you cannot ask for that. Same with the roof. I don't
care if it's 25 years old, it's not leaking. Caveat emptor and all that.
Posted at 1135.
4 July 2006
I got a call this morning from our NC realtor. Her first question was,
"Are you out of town?" Uhm, yes, I'm in Ithaca. She said, "Well, the
realtor who showed your house this morning couldn't get the lockbox back
on the door. So she put it and the key inside the house. Do you know
anyone with an extra key?" Of course, there is no one with an extra key.
That's what a fucking lock box is for. Why can't the douche of a realtor
lock the house properly and take the box and the key to my realtors'
office, which is less than 2 miles away? So I was online checking into
the cost to overnight a key to NC when I got a call from the realtor
again. Apparently the scheduling service told the realtor showing the
house to put the box and key in the crawlspace in the house - which was
confusing, since the crawlspace is under the house. But also not locked.
My realtor was having a holiday BBQ, though, and couldn't go over to
check. I IM'ed Bryan and asked him to go over, since he is familiar with
the lockbox, having had to use it to break into our house once before.
Apparently all is now well. The lockbox is back on the front door. I
swear, I would love to distribute the ridiculous 6% of the house
commission among me, Patrick, Bryan, and everyone else who has listened to
me bitch about this process rather than the realtors. Did I mention we
don't have contractor quotes yet for the siding?
Posted at 1722.
3 July 2006
And now it's time for another installment of...
Picture Mail Journal
 | Ithaca has their
fireworks celebration on July 3. My mom said that made sense,
because if you have it on July 4, people stay up late but have to
go to work the next morning. I reminded
her that she's the only one I know who regularly goes to sleep
at 9pm. It was, incidentally, a really lame display. No wonder
they want $2
donations. |
 | In the women's bathroom
at Olin Library on the Cornell campus. They haven't changed
their feminine hygiene receptacles since 1943. |
 | Seen on the street
while walking to campus. Perhaps someone was hitchhiking to
Brooklin, Canada? |
 | Robert Treman park had a
looooot of snakes. But only down near Lucifer
Falls. I guess that's a propos. |
Posted at 2234.
