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[Restaurant Manners and Property Appreciation]
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Apparently, when eating dinner during a normal, dinner-eating time with your friends, do not, I repeat, do not say "HAND JOB" too loudly. You will beckon the wrath of a large Black mother, her eyeballs firmly fixed on your face as you attempt to shake away her countenance which is burning, burning, burning your left-hand periphery. And no matter how much you concentrate on your friends and on finishing the story that required the word "HAND JOB" said loudly the Black mother's stare will not go away. Not go away. So I ordered another two-dollar hurricane. What's a girl to do?
Besides that piece of heaven, today I learned that another house on my new street is on the market. A smaller house, with a smaller lot, it is going for 15k more than my place. Sounds like my place is already worth much more than what I paid for it. La te da. |
[The "as-is" clause]
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I haven't talked about it here, or with any of my friends for that matter. I didn't want to jinx myself this time around. This time, it was kept between me, Mr. St. Joseph, my realtor, and my ma an' pa. And, well, a few people at work. And, I think my mom told some people. Okay, it wasn't that low key.
I did, in fact, find another house: It was listed Sunday, I saw it Monday, I bid on it yesterday, and I finalized the contract today. Yes, in 30 days, I will be the owner of a circa-1925 brick, three-bedroom home, with hardwood floors, unpainted woodwork, clean walls, and a rockin' vintage kitchen--complete with yellow a counter-top and a yellow stove (now, if I could only find a yellow fridge).
Apparently, this house is part of an inherited estate. I purchased it for a song-and-a-dance, for much less than I was planning on paying for the house that I lost.
I hope Mr. Inspector fails to find anything dreadful with the property, as the seller has added an as-is clause to the contract, meaning he/she will not budge the price if, for example, a termite infestation is uncovered. However, I am still protected: I have every right, if something is indeed found, to back out of the contract completely--though I hope this doesn't need to happen (I really like this place).
And, go ahead and vote for the CPS levy if you must. I no longer live in the City of Cincinnati. |
[King of Rock-n-Roll]
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There is all sorts of Bam on tonight. Werd.
And, tomorrow, I think I'm going to take a risk and see Thérèse, as in Thérèse of Lisieux. The reviews haven't been great, but I'm all about supporting independent films (and I do mean independent -- this film was funded by donations, a dollar here and a dollar there), even if it's a bit candy-coated in its portrayal of the brief life of the "Little" saint (with celeb status), whose relics were worthy of world-travel (the "Rolling Bones" tour, that is).
In other news, I purchased a two-hundred dollar sweater from Saks last weekend.
And I tried on a twelve-hundred dollar St. James Chanel-esque jacket, very Jackie-O. Thank God there was a flaw in the cut, else I would have blown two paychecks, no hesitation. The personal shopper, after noticing the problem, immediately said the garment needed to be returned. I was so ready to act rich, too.
The joys of expensive clothing and budget films. |
[Dim sympathies and puny flaps]
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Waking before the sun rises has been tough lately. During the spring and summer months, I generally wake an hour before my alarm sounds. Now, my dreams are disturbed as my ears are assaulted by the vile buzz, always the worst way to wake, the doctors claim. If only October were accompanied by more hours of sunlight -- at least in the morning (I don't mind the early sunsets). My serotonin levels are in the red, as is my morning routine. At least I am motivated to work, motivation being few and far-between while I was a slave at Ray's Place.
Speaking of that pit-of-despair, I haven't been contacted further about the grievance, thank God. My current boss seems to think I ought to have UC "talk to [my] lawyer" as the whole situation borderlines on harassment. I understand that every student (and faculty member) has the right to file a grievance. But these grievances need to stand on firm ground and solid evidence. This student has nothing, and this was proved to be true once before, and the grievance fell in "my" favor. Now, due to clerical slop, this community-college-g-i-joe-schmoe (yes, this moron is responsible for defending our country!) gets another chance to get his grade.
Why I ever went into teaching is beyond me. Though, I must admit, I miss it. I miss seeing the "A Ha!" light up in students' eyes when they -actually get it- and I miss the interaction with people who actually care and want to learn! Unfortunately, such things are rare in this tri-state of rednecks and baby daddies.
Tomorrow, I have editing galore to tackle. And a board meeting at 10:30.
Oh dear, I think I've been sucked into television.
In other news, my realtor is fast at work. I should have new houses to look at within a couple weeks. Also, I notified the listing realtor for the house I lost and told him to contact me if the pending contract falls through. I so want to move. |
[Get another wireless plan, Harold!]
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Anyone waiting to hear the good news about my house will be disappointed (particularly those, i.e., Jamie and T. Rex, wanting to crash for housewarming fun) to hear that my contract was not accepted. A second contract was received at the same time mine was, and my bidding opposition offered more money, plain and simple.
Sure, I am a bit peeved, having to start from square one, and begin another house hunt consisting of online searches and weekend drive-bys (For the last few weeks, I had ceased searching, as I was pretty certain the circa-1900-Victorian abode would be mine). I can't be too down, however. And I can't kick myself for my lower offer. A two-bedroom house in that particular neighborhood, particularly one with an ailing roof, should not have sold for over 97k. The fact that I offered 102k and raised my bid to 105k upon hearing of the second bidder and the realtor's request that both bidders "put their best foot forward" was generous as far as I'm concerned.
However, I was so ready to buy that brown-leather living room set at six-months-same-as-cash. So ready.
Luckily, I've already been pre-approved for a loan through my bank as well as another. And, financially, things are looking up. While I still have a cumbersome student loan to pay off, my credit and life in general are not affected much. In fact, after 2004 is up, I'm planning on doubling my monthly loan payment.
[[The fact that I've taken an active role in paying back the government just proves how much of a grown-up I have become over the last few years or so.]]
I hope to find another house -- a better house -- within the next couple months (I'd like to be in a house before 2005!), which I will then fill with leather furniture, shelves of books, antique tables and drawers, and an assortment of odd finds and conversation-starting whatnots.
In other news, I ordered a "4" from Ambar India and received what I think is a "0" -- yes, a dish with no spice or fire at-all. The place seemed packed when upon my arrival to pick up my mater paneer, and I'm sure the mistake was a result of this. What a disappointment. The four-(or five-)out-of-six is the main reason why I enjoy Indian food. Poo. |
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