What A Week!

The home inspection revealed termites. But it's okay! Really. They have not done any structural damage to the house and the owner is footing the bill to put a system in place to prevent them from coming back. We will also get a service contract that has the exterminator coming out four times a year to spray for them and it won't cost much (it'll cost less than what the seller is paying to put the initial system in, that's for sure).

So the house is good to go and I am psyched.

Ran into Baby Sis this morning in South Station. How freaking weird is that? I'm walking along and there's this girl walking ahead of me and I'm thinking, "I know that red ponytail." I yelled out to her and lo and behold, there was Baby Sis! It was a really great way to start the day, spending even five minutes with her while we walked down to the red and silver lines together.

Manny Ramirez has left the Red Sox and I don't know how I feel about that. On the one hand, I will miss his quirky ways (taking a pee break in the Wall, losing track of the outs, high fiving fans in the outfield). I will certainly miss his awesome bat and the way he and Ortiz kicked ass together. However, I will not miss him quitting in the middle of a penant race nor I will miss his attitude about management. He gets paid ridiculous money to chase a ball in left field and to make contact at the plate. He clearly loves his job. Shut up and be grateful they're willing to pay you for that.

Omar got us tickets for Sunday's game; we're going with his parents because they were a birthday gift to his mom. So I'm psyched because I haven't been to a game all season. But I'm also bummed because I used to love to watch Manny bat. Now he's a Dodger. Well, good on him. He can bitch with Nomar about how much the Red Sox suck.

Purchase and sale takes place Tuesday and the closing is on Aug 28. I can't believe I'm about to own property!

I Have Seen the Real Estate Market And I Have Kicked Its ASS

Last night, Omar and I put an offer on a house.

Tonight, we heard back that we got it.

The relief is palpable. I think giddy might be an understatement. It's a split built into 1966 with hideous decor that's clearly going to be redone, but it's cheap, in a great neighborhood, and in the town we wanted. It's not anywhere near as nice as the house we lost, but it's got so much potential and it's perfect for us right now. We got all the appliances included and we got the house for $20K less than the selling price.

It needs a new roof, but we knew that going in so it's not going to be a surprise once the home inspection is done.

This is the most nerve wracking, exhausting thing I have ever done and it's over and I am so relieved and so excited. I always have to pee when I get nervous and I literally spent half my day in the ladies' room today after we didn't hear back from the seller. We heard tonight around eight o'clock and I haven't been able to sit still since.

It's going to be amazing. And the best part of all - NO BEIGE.

I Don't Want to Break His Fingers...

... but I totally will if Omar doesn't stop poking at me.

Here's the thing about my husband. As much as I love him, he also annoys the living shit of me sometimes. He'll either talk endlessly while I'm trying to read or write or he'll keep poking at me with his foot or his finger or whatever while I'm trying to type. I know he just wants attention and affection, but it drives me up a goddamn wall.

Our new place has only hardwood floors or a laminate version of them. I'm not sure which yet. But at the other place, it was carpeted and he would sit on the floor so he could stretch out. The floor here isn't comfortable so we're sharing the couch. Which is only sort of working. It works fine when we're watching tv or a movie and want to cuddle. Not so much when I want to sit here and write and be left alone. Driving me batty.

Plus, he's doing weight watchers with me now so every time he puts something in his mouth he asks me questions. I'm glad he's doing the program with me because he does need to lose some weight and this, I think, is the safest option for him. And he's kind of adorable because he's taking it so seriously. (Well, he's always adorable, but that's besides the point) But sometimes I want to tell him to BE QUIET so I can think.

It doesn't help that we have boxes everywhere still and that 95% of my clothing and personal effects are still in boxes. So are his. He's been really good and patient, but every time we want to find something it becomes a freaking scavenger hunt. So annoying.

I'm trying to be good about the hellmouth, but I still hate it. There is literally no privacy in this place. None. I can't even surf the web without Omar looking over my shoulder. He's not being nosy, but there's no place for us to be apart. And as much as I love him and love spending time with him, I also need some alone time too.

Red Sox are kicking the Yankees' fucking asses tonight. I think Jon Lester might be my new baseball boyfriend. I seriously love him right now.

Welcome to the Hellmouth

The Hellmouth is our new apartment. It's supposed to be a temporary place to live. Omar and I were going to put an offer on our dream house this week. A perfect 4 bedroom, 2 bath house with a big backyard and a new kitchen in the town where we want to live. Except Omar decided - and I went along with it because I didn't disagree strongly enough with him - that we should wait to put the offer out there until we had completed our move from our townhouse to the Hellmouth.

So just take a wild fucking guess what happened in the week and a half since we last spoke to our realtor?

If you guessed, someone else made an offer and the owners accepted it so now we're stuck here and having to start all over again to find a house that I'm not going to love even a fraction of the one we just missed out on then you win.

I can't stop crying. I have literally not stopped crying since Omar told me this. When he came home and told me, he said, "Are you mad at me?" and I answered him, "A little." Mostly, I am so, so sick to my stomach that eating dinner was an exercise in futility. I wanted to vomit the whole time. Even now, I'm so nauseous I can't help wondering why I bothered to eat.

We looked for this house FOREVER. We looked at houses for three months before we found this one. And now it's gone and we have to start all over. And we're stuck in this horrible apartment with everything we own still boxed up with this tiny little kitchen and this tiny little bathroom, surrounded by the smell of curry because every single other tenant on our floor and the one beneath us is Indian (and I don't mean to sound horrible about that, but it's a fact) in a town where I'm even further away from my friends and family where I don't know where anything is and I hate it. What was supposed to be temporary for four months suddenly looks less temporary and I can't handle that. I don't want to still be here in four months. I don't even want to be here now.

It's not like it's a bad place, because as apartments go it's one of the nicer ones I've lived in, but it's not home. It doesn't feel like home and it never will. Home was going to be that sweet little Cape we found and fell in love with. But because we had our priorities all screwed up, we lost it. Lesson learned, but what a horrible lesson it was. Omar asked the realtor if we could make a counter offer, but she told him that the other family had offered significantly more than what we would have offered.

I can't stop crying. I'm sitting here typing this with tears running down my face because I am so heartbroken right now that I don't know what else to do.

I got my promotion, which came with a raise, and I thought that maybe that was a sign that everything was starting to come together. The promotion, the house, maybe now we could focus more on the baby thing. But once again, nothing ever goes right for us and we've lost the one house we found that we both liked. We even lost the back up house, because there's an offer out on that as well.

So now we're starting at the beginning and I'm stuck here at the Hellmouth until we find something else. I hate it here. There's no privacy, there's no place to go if I want to be alone, there's not even a mall nearby if I want to just go someplace to browse or window shop. The only place near here is a freaking grocery store. And the traffic here is horrible. Getting into Boston took over an hour. That's not to say that traffic was always great coming out of Metro West, but it was better than the Expressway let me tell you. What a freaking nightmare that was yesterday.

I hate Tampa Bay. And I hate the Red Sox for losing to them twice this week. I pretty much hate everything and everyone right now. I'm so depressed about this house thing that I don't even know what to do. I can't even curl up with my comfort books and music because they're all still packed up in boxes. And my TiVo still isn't set up because we got rid of the phone and got broadband and I'm waiting for the wireless adapter to come to hook it up.

It's the place. It's sucking all my energy and all my positivity out of me. It's like it knows. Maybe it really is a Hellmouth. I just don't have the energy to deal with it right now. I'm too nauseous, upset and depressed to tackle it.

Crap. Now I need to blow my nose.