The Battle of Tippecanoe

You remember a few posts back I was all gushy about how much I loved this area, and how I put an offer on a townhouse, blah blah blah? Yeah. Well the short and skinny of it is, I am still a pending homeless person. My lease is up in 25 days and while I can go month to month, I really would like to know if I'll be living in a deluxe apartment in the sky, or a tri-level townhouse 10 miles further West of here. Dealing with short sales, 3rd party approvals, and weeks upon weeks without word whether or not your offer to buy a home will be accepted is nothing less than agonizing. I am the kind of person who wants to be rewarded immediately for making large decisions, purchases, or life altering events. I want nothing more to be self gratified, and to immediately reap the benefit of said event. You know, like buying a car, and taking it home. Buying a lot of clothes, and taking them home. Buying a home and well, calling it MY freaking home. It should be easy. But easy is the furthest thing from what this crappy home buying process has been.

I wish I would have counted the exact number of houses I have looked at. My guess is that we're close to 100 now. My realtor must think I'm a total spaz. Thank God he's wonderful, because if he were like most any other man (not like you honey), my non-decisive nature would have scared him a long time ago. Well that, and he's getting paid, and his wife is a friend of mine from college and I'm quite sure she'd beat him into submission if he weren't. You know, just sayin'.

Anyway, I currently have two offers out on two different houses. You're not really supposed to do that but you know what? I'm pretty sure it should be illegal to ask people to make an offer on a house and then being the nice bank that you are sit on those offers for multiple weeks, just cause, you know, you can. I am pretty sure that by waiting and waiting it out, your hair falls out en masse and you find yourself in former homelands and cities that are now-not-too-far, drinking excessive amounts of foreign and domestic beers just to dull the voice in your head that incessantly screams, "where is the self-gratification that I so desperately need?" FFS. Why won't that bank respond and tell me that the home I've been looking for so diligently is now mine?

This is nothing less than a battle. A battle of wits. A battle of wills. A true testament to one's character.

You lucky bastards who haven't had to deal with the short sale and foreclosure process have no idea just how lucky you are. And those of you out there who think I'm getting a freaking amazing deal just because I'm trying to purchase a short sale/foreclosure...let me tell ya. When you're paying an arm, a leg, and a future unborn child just to live in a townhouse that costs more than most 5-bedroom homes in your former city, one in which has emerald green carpet throughout THE ENTIRE HOUSE (that you will have to fork over another 10K to replace just so you can paint the walls to not clash with said carpet), and a kitchen your inner Julia Child says "ewwwwhhhhh" too, it's not such an amazing deal. It's called less than perfect and totally obscene.

Ahhhh, the joys of home ownership. Home sweet home.

Damn it!

It's about time that I be able to say that!