10 May, 2011

no, not dead, just shopping for houses

well, dear poultries, the mister and i have done it. we have shopped and shopped and shopped and at the end of it all, we bought our dream home. let's just hope the bastard lives up to our expectations. what? what do you mean didn't we see it? of course we saw it. for all of 15 minutes. that's normal, no?

what i always come back to is the ridiculousness of how one goes about shopping for various items. say you want to buy a pair of jeans. you walk into your local purveyor of all things denim and try on a pair. wait, does this one make your ass look big? how about this pair? not sure about the crotch area embroidery... hey! what about these? well... maybe. the next day you return, armed with a girlfriend of discerning taste or (if you're lucky) a mouthy but charming gay friend. (s)he tells it like it is and you decide... well... almost. the following day you return yet again. you can do this for weeks. and, if the pair you choose do indeed make your ass gargantuan, why, the following day you return them. all in all, if you're a real jean snob, you're out, what, maybe, 200* bucks. 

whilst shopping for a home, a purchase (if you're very very lucky, or live in a shithole) roughly 1000-2000x pricier, you walk in, like the look of a place, find out that there's another offer and scramble like a mad(wo)man to decide if it's a yay, a nay, or a nervous breakdown. shit, fuck, shit, what do we do? do we take it? is it perfect? and then BAM! you decide, sign an excessive amount of papers and then find that you have not a fucking clue whether the tiles in the bathroom were blue, chartreuse or purple. and if the drawers on your sexy new kitchen stick, you can hardly blame yourself, since you made this momentous decision based on a 15 minute perusal of the property. as for returns? do not make me laugh.

still, once we've moved and the tequila that's being hidden from mr. monkey's greedy little maw comes back to us, y'all can come over and i'll make you a margarita. how's that sound?


* i'm not so i'm out a whole lot less than that. especially if there's a sweet sale going on.


p.s. no, we didn't go for the marble clad foyer with fountains. but there is cool retro stone on the walls of the lobby and if you really want a fountain, you can bring a glass of water and a straw. still, that kitchen... oh, that kitchen!

5 comments:

puncturedbicycle said...

Congratulations!
Don't get me started on house hunting/buying property. If I had a penny for every time it made me feel like lying down with a stiff drink and a cold cloth...

Zhoen said...

Ah, but more important, is there subsidence, dry rot, are the tubes and pipes good, decent wiring, no title disputes, is it in a flood zone or on a fault line, or next door to a "party house" or over psychotic neighbors?

Did I mention we still rent?

the polish chick said...

pb, lying down with a stiff drink sounds good.

zhoen, it's a concrete high rise, we read (and re-read) the engineering reports, and the financial reports, the minutes and the legal crap. if it ever floods, then we have bigger problems and it's likely the world is about to end, because even though it is relatively near the river, the river is in a valley. it would take a tsunami to flood us. and if it is on a fault line, well, it'll be a surprise. it's actually quite likely, however, that our other place is both floodable and faulty.

as for the psychotic neighbours, one of the joys of concrete buildings is that they'd have to be pretty psychotic indeed to make a dent. (although we did once own a condo next door to drunk russians who routinely began their balcony partying at midnight and only finished at 7am, thus forcing me to sleep with my windows closed, which was awful because the heating was broken and kept working all through that particularly hot summer. ah, those were the days...

Lucy said...

Hooray! Enjoy it, you won't be sorry.

Anonymous said...

Awesome. We're readying our basement for my brother. Joy.