Josh and I were running errands today and amidst driving all over town to complete the tasks, we got hungry and went to one of our favorite places: Pei Wei. It is an Asian diner with an American attitude and great food like P.F. Changs (P.F. Changs owns Pei Wei). I always get the same thing, shrimp fried rice. Josh is the one who lives dangerously varying his meal choices every chance he gets. Who knows, it could be the honey chicken or it could be beef short ribs. I am telling you, he pushes the limits.
Until I moved to Los Angeles, sushi was the only Asian food I liked. The smells use to turn me off and the taste was even worse. Living in Los Angeles will definitely force you to expand your food horizons, even if it is just to Asian and Mexican food. I know I mixing countries and continents, but that is just how it is. Mexican food is pretty much the extent of any Spanish, Latin American, Central American, South American, or Caribbean food in LA. They are LA staples. Today the chef is Jose Yi and our server will be Bing Ramirez. Yes, I would like fried rice with my enchiladas and for dessert I think I'll have the fortune flan. You all get the point. So now I like more Asian food than I'd ever imagined.
At Pei Wei, you walk up to the counter after looking at the big menu on the wall, just like deli's, and order. They give you a number, you pay, and take your seats. On the way to the dining room, you pass the soda fountains where there is a pretty great selection of tasty beverages. I like to mix the Mandarin Orange Iced Tea with Lemonade. Oh so refreshing! Josh, just like the food, he lives dangerously. Every time we go, he gets something different. Today he made me laugh because it brought back one of those childhood memories I'd forgotten I'd had. He mixed Orange Soda and Mr. Pibb. Needless to say, I did not taste it. It reminded me of a time when I was really little and my family and I lived on Dellwood Avenue. My mother would pick me up from the daycare (I was cool, I went to Gerber. I am an OGB-original Gerber baby!!) and we would drive up the block to the 7 Eleven. It was catercorner from my aunts apartment and just a few blocks away from our house and next door to the lundr0-mat we used. I knew if we went there, I was probably getting Combos and maybe if I wasn't rotten, I could get a Slurpee or soda too. My brother however, always got soda. I remember he use to get the largest cup at the soda fountain and mix them all. It was a great trick to teach me! I've always needed a little boost in the energy department, especially at that age. I remember there were all these different types of soda like Coke, Diet Coke, Cherry Coke, Sprite, Mr. Pibb, Mountain Dew, Orange Soda, etc. To little kid, the choices seemed unending.
I can't remember the last time I've thought about our regular 7 Eleven trips, but Josh mixing the Orange Soda and Mr. Pibb sent that memory rushing back like the waves.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Ques from my brother
Lately, LJ has been writing about our family. It warms my heart to read all of this stuff because these are thing I couldn't possibly remember (all the memories from the DC era, were as I like to call them, BC: Before Christina). It is cool to see such an introspective view of our family that is so different from mine. And SO different from our parents, aunts, and uncles.
One of my favorite people to remember is my Grandmother. Most of my big memories when I was little are with her and of her. As an adult, my mother likes to tease me and ask, "you were channeling your Grandmother when you did that, weren't you?" I usually respond, "Probably, it is not my fault, you let me spend time with her when I was in my formative years!" We chuckle a little because I think we are both remembering Dottie in all of her glorious lunacy.
The memory that I always come to first when thinking of my Grandmother is having "slumber parties" at her house across the street watching soap operas and eating Klondikes with her in her bed. To think about it, she used the dining room as her bedroom, God only knows why. She'd tilt her Craftmatic Adjustable bed so we could sit up and eat our yummy foil wrapped treat.
I spent a lot of time at my Grandmother's house when I was young, maybe because she moved from having the room down the hall to the house across the street. We lived on Dellwood Avenue in a 2 story white house. It was a pretty cool house. There were a total of 4 bedrooms upstairs, 3 on the same hall and 1 alone with its own set of steps (that was my brother's room). The house came equipped with 1 skeleton key. I use to steal it and lock myself in my room to evade spankings and general trouble. My Grandmother's house was green. I remember it was really dark green. She lived next door to one of MJ and LJs best friends. Strange. It is really strange to remember all of these little things.
My Grandmother and I had a really amazing relationship. She was my first best friend.
One of my favorite people to remember is my Grandmother. Most of my big memories when I was little are with her and of her. As an adult, my mother likes to tease me and ask, "you were channeling your Grandmother when you did that, weren't you?" I usually respond, "Probably, it is not my fault, you let me spend time with her when I was in my formative years!" We chuckle a little because I think we are both remembering Dottie in all of her glorious lunacy.
The memory that I always come to first when thinking of my Grandmother is having "slumber parties" at her house across the street watching soap operas and eating Klondikes with her in her bed. To think about it, she used the dining room as her bedroom, God only knows why. She'd tilt her Craftmatic Adjustable bed so we could sit up and eat our yummy foil wrapped treat.
I spent a lot of time at my Grandmother's house when I was young, maybe because she moved from having the room down the hall to the house across the street. We lived on Dellwood Avenue in a 2 story white house. It was a pretty cool house. There were a total of 4 bedrooms upstairs, 3 on the same hall and 1 alone with its own set of steps (that was my brother's room). The house came equipped with 1 skeleton key. I use to steal it and lock myself in my room to evade spankings and general trouble. My Grandmother's house was green. I remember it was really dark green. She lived next door to one of MJ and LJs best friends. Strange. It is really strange to remember all of these little things.
My Grandmother and I had a really amazing relationship. She was my first best friend.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
A Baker is Born
The past couple of weeks have been pretty interesting. I've had emotional ups and downs that I never wish on anyone. Let me begin with a time line.
3 Weeks Ago
Hawker announces that there will be a final round of lay-offs. Inbetween selling houses and slinging drinks, I had to be the emotional rock for Josh and I (it is much harder than it looks). I kept a positive outlook and was the cheerleader for our team, it is like a tennis team rather than a football team, just he and I. His boss was ever scared he was going to get canned.
2 Weeks Ago
Same as the previous week, but I got another job (I am pretending to be Jamaican). I try to plan things to the best of my ability, so with the looming lay-off, I got another job. Happy face happy face happy face. Pretending a major setback won't phase us, is a tough gig. I have decided that if we ever have to move back to LA, I will actively pursue my acting career. I know if the likes of New York from "I Love New York"and Megan from "Megan Wants a Millionaire" can grace the Hollywood screen, I sure as hell can. I know the down fall is I will have to take up a diet of cigarettes and water and then flush it all out with a coffee colonic. I might even have to begin a coke habit. That one is still up for debate in the category of sacrifices for my new career. I digress.
Last Week
Josh and I were on pins and needles the entire week. We didn't know what was going to happen. Friday rolls around and the bomb drops. "I'm on my way home," he says. It was 9:30 in the morning and he was coming home because he got laid off. I immediately freaked out. I cried like I'd just been diagnosed with a terminal disease, this is how I know I'd be a great actress. The tears streamed down my face like Niagara Falls. As soon as Josh got home, they stopped. I was in panic mode. All I could think was not again. We've been through this once and it was really tough. I think that is why I hate LA so much. The last time this happened, it was a week after I'd moved. Anyway, Josh gets home and we chatted about what happened. He was in GREAT spirits. To look at us, you would think I was the one who got laid off. He received a severance package and that eased my mind a lot. The last time it was basically on of those "don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out" situations (Josh and his boss didn't get along). This time he was happy and ready to move on to the next thing. We took a walk, mainly for me to calm down. The powers of fresh air are amazing. After I was clam, we had a pretty relaxing weekend and began the new week fresh.
This week
This week was interesting. It was the first week Josh was home and my routine was a little messed up. We got through it. Tuesday was one of the best days. I was at my office and received a text from Josh, "we have a package." I told him to open it, I've never been one to wait to open gifts. There were 2 packages wrapped within the shipping box. He waiting until I got home and let me open them. The first smaller package was an IPOD docking station. It is really cool because you can hook your IPOD, NANO, or IPhone up to this and it will play, no headphones necessary. This was one of the things on our registry. I forgot we'd registered for it. I screamed and smiled and laughed. The next box was much larger and weighed a lot more. I shredded the paper and it was the convection bread maker we'd registered for. AMAZING! Once again, I forgot we'd registered for this beautiful stainless steel piece of work. I did a happy dance. Our apartment looked like most houses on Christmas morning. We had to start a "wrapping paper trash bag." It was the coolest most unexpected thing. Then Josh hands me an envelope. It was from Gramsie and Gramps (this maternal grandparents who live in Miami Beach in a ridiculous high rise building. They are pimptastic). It was an engagement gift from them. All of these things came at the perfect time.
With one of (my) our new toys. I made my first loaf of bread. It was easy and I think I've found my new calling. Josh and I discussed creating a drive through window in our front door. A baker has been born in me and who knows where this could take us!
3 Weeks Ago
Hawker announces that there will be a final round of lay-offs. Inbetween selling houses and slinging drinks, I had to be the emotional rock for Josh and I (it is much harder than it looks). I kept a positive outlook and was the cheerleader for our team, it is like a tennis team rather than a football team, just he and I. His boss was ever scared he was going to get canned.
2 Weeks Ago
Same as the previous week, but I got another job (I am pretending to be Jamaican). I try to plan things to the best of my ability, so with the looming lay-off, I got another job. Happy face happy face happy face. Pretending a major setback won't phase us, is a tough gig. I have decided that if we ever have to move back to LA, I will actively pursue my acting career. I know if the likes of New York from "I Love New York"and Megan from "Megan Wants a Millionaire" can grace the Hollywood screen, I sure as hell can. I know the down fall is I will have to take up a diet of cigarettes and water and then flush it all out with a coffee colonic. I might even have to begin a coke habit. That one is still up for debate in the category of sacrifices for my new career. I digress.
Last Week
Josh and I were on pins and needles the entire week. We didn't know what was going to happen. Friday rolls around and the bomb drops. "I'm on my way home," he says. It was 9:30 in the morning and he was coming home because he got laid off. I immediately freaked out. I cried like I'd just been diagnosed with a terminal disease, this is how I know I'd be a great actress. The tears streamed down my face like Niagara Falls. As soon as Josh got home, they stopped. I was in panic mode. All I could think was not again. We've been through this once and it was really tough. I think that is why I hate LA so much. The last time this happened, it was a week after I'd moved. Anyway, Josh gets home and we chatted about what happened. He was in GREAT spirits. To look at us, you would think I was the one who got laid off. He received a severance package and that eased my mind a lot. The last time it was basically on of those "don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out" situations (Josh and his boss didn't get along). This time he was happy and ready to move on to the next thing. We took a walk, mainly for me to calm down. The powers of fresh air are amazing. After I was clam, we had a pretty relaxing weekend and began the new week fresh.
This week
This week was interesting. It was the first week Josh was home and my routine was a little messed up. We got through it. Tuesday was one of the best days. I was at my office and received a text from Josh, "we have a package." I told him to open it, I've never been one to wait to open gifts. There were 2 packages wrapped within the shipping box. He waiting until I got home and let me open them. The first smaller package was an IPOD docking station. It is really cool because you can hook your IPOD, NANO, or IPhone up to this and it will play, no headphones necessary. This was one of the things on our registry. I forgot we'd registered for it. I screamed and smiled and laughed. The next box was much larger and weighed a lot more. I shredded the paper and it was the convection bread maker we'd registered for. AMAZING! Once again, I forgot we'd registered for this beautiful stainless steel piece of work. I did a happy dance. Our apartment looked like most houses on Christmas morning. We had to start a "wrapping paper trash bag." It was the coolest most unexpected thing. Then Josh hands me an envelope. It was from Gramsie and Gramps (this maternal grandparents who live in Miami Beach in a ridiculous high rise building. They are pimptastic). It was an engagement gift from them. All of these things came at the perfect time.
With one of (my) our new toys. I made my first loaf of bread. It was easy and I think I've found my new calling. Josh and I discussed creating a drive through window in our front door. A baker has been born in me and who knows where this could take us!
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Separation Anxeity
Real Estate is exhausting! For the most part, I have found something I do well and something that is not the bane of my existence. I honesty like it, but it is exhausting. My goal is to get to the point where my business works for me and I really don't have to work for my business.
The past week has been more exhausting than most. At this moment in time, I have clients who, daily, suck the life out of me, well all but one. Every day for the last 3 weeks I've wanted to either throw my phone against the wall and say, "F*ck it all, I am done" or one by one, kick my clients in the teeth. The latter sounds like more fun and more deserving.
The way I work is pretty open and honest. You ask me a question, I will give you the answer. If I don't know the answer, I will find out. I lay all of this out for my clients when we meet. I also give them instructions on the process and my schedule. I guess I have not been clear enough.
Client: "We would like to see 4 properties this evening beginning at 7:30pm.
Me: "No, I can't do that. It takes approximately 30 minutes per house (they aren't looky looos), these people might have children and families and might not want us coming through their homes at 9-10pm."
Client: Really??? Why
Me: Right, so like I just said, I don't think people want us in their houses that late. If we'd scheduled it yesterday or earlier, it might have been something we could do. People need notice. Next time.
Client: OK.
I really understand my job does not have set hours like most, but I am also someone who has a life...and another job. Apparently that is really difficult to comprehend. There are those agents out there who only work from 9-3/4. I aspire to have it like that one day. Right now, I feel like I am my clients bitch. I don't like it.
In the past 2 weeks I've had to have more "Come to Jesus Meetings" than I care to think about. Why can't people just do what I say. I am just saying these things and doing these things for everyones' well being. The more they interfere, the more likely things are to get f*ucked up. I let them do their jobs, so why no let me do mine. Just because you've seen all those shows on HGTV and A&E doesn't mean you know anything about Real Estate. It plainly means you, 1. watch too much television, and 2. are a retard if you think they are going to give you more knowledge than me when it comes to buying and selling a home. All they show on those shows is the fun, glamorous side of Real Estate. If for one second a client thinks those shows are their way to "do it themselves," I quickly let them know that they are retarded and I won't be there when they get sued. I will however, be there in court to chuckle at all the inappropriate times while the judge is smacking them down with fines they only dream of being able to afford. I digress.
My favorite client, he actually is my favorite client, closed on his house this Friday. Usually by closing time I am ready to push my clients in front of a bus and have hungry vultures flying overhead so there is no evidence. He was different. Big Mike, as I like to call him, was probably one of the nicest people I've ever met in my life. He did everything I said and there were no hiccups during his deal. Surprise, surprise! We negotiated back and forth with the sellers on price and repairs, but he was ready to do that from the beginning. Every time we met for a showing or signing of something, he always had a smile on his face and usually cracked a joke or two. There were a couple of times he got a little nervous, but he never acted like a crack head and freaked out. He let me know calmly that he was a little nervous about somethings and he let me be his "pit bull" AKA doing my job.
When we finished the final walk through of the house before all the closing papers were signed, I almost lost all composure. My eyes began to fill with tears and I just couldn't help it.
Me: I just want you to know, you have been a breath of fresh air.
Big Mike: Really, I thought I was a pain.
Me: Seriously, you are my best client. I think I am going through a little bit of separation anxiety. I am sad we are closing today.
Big Mike: (chuckling) Really?
Me: Really. You were always so polite and friendly. You asked questions when necessary and you are just a pleasure to be around. Will you teach a "client class" and teach clients how to interact with their REALTOR.
He laughed and my tears went away. This is the first time this has happened so after we were finished, I ran to my broker and asked if that was weird. She let me know that it is normal, but it only happens once in a while. She said it gives us hope that there is another one out there and everyone is not a pain in the ass.
I am excited to work with Big Mike again in the future. He is that sigh of relief we all need. He is that calm feeling that washes over you when you need it the most. Seriously, he needs to teach a class or as a prerequisite for purchasing a home, clients must take up smoking or eating pot so they can chill out!
The past week has been more exhausting than most. At this moment in time, I have clients who, daily, suck the life out of me, well all but one. Every day for the last 3 weeks I've wanted to either throw my phone against the wall and say, "F*ck it all, I am done" or one by one, kick my clients in the teeth. The latter sounds like more fun and more deserving.
The way I work is pretty open and honest. You ask me a question, I will give you the answer. If I don't know the answer, I will find out. I lay all of this out for my clients when we meet. I also give them instructions on the process and my schedule. I guess I have not been clear enough.
Client: "We would like to see 4 properties this evening beginning at 7:30pm.
Me: "No, I can't do that. It takes approximately 30 minutes per house (they aren't looky looos), these people might have children and families and might not want us coming through their homes at 9-10pm."
Client: Really??? Why
Me: Right, so like I just said, I don't think people want us in their houses that late. If we'd scheduled it yesterday or earlier, it might have been something we could do. People need notice. Next time.
Client: OK.
I really understand my job does not have set hours like most, but I am also someone who has a life...and another job. Apparently that is really difficult to comprehend. There are those agents out there who only work from 9-3/4. I aspire to have it like that one day. Right now, I feel like I am my clients bitch. I don't like it.
In the past 2 weeks I've had to have more "Come to Jesus Meetings" than I care to think about. Why can't people just do what I say. I am just saying these things and doing these things for everyones' well being. The more they interfere, the more likely things are to get f*ucked up. I let them do their jobs, so why no let me do mine. Just because you've seen all those shows on HGTV and A&E doesn't mean you know anything about Real Estate. It plainly means you, 1. watch too much television, and 2. are a retard if you think they are going to give you more knowledge than me when it comes to buying and selling a home. All they show on those shows is the fun, glamorous side of Real Estate. If for one second a client thinks those shows are their way to "do it themselves," I quickly let them know that they are retarded and I won't be there when they get sued. I will however, be there in court to chuckle at all the inappropriate times while the judge is smacking them down with fines they only dream of being able to afford. I digress.
My favorite client, he actually is my favorite client, closed on his house this Friday. Usually by closing time I am ready to push my clients in front of a bus and have hungry vultures flying overhead so there is no evidence. He was different. Big Mike, as I like to call him, was probably one of the nicest people I've ever met in my life. He did everything I said and there were no hiccups during his deal. Surprise, surprise! We negotiated back and forth with the sellers on price and repairs, but he was ready to do that from the beginning. Every time we met for a showing or signing of something, he always had a smile on his face and usually cracked a joke or two. There were a couple of times he got a little nervous, but he never acted like a crack head and freaked out. He let me know calmly that he was a little nervous about somethings and he let me be his "pit bull" AKA doing my job.
When we finished the final walk through of the house before all the closing papers were signed, I almost lost all composure. My eyes began to fill with tears and I just couldn't help it.
Me: I just want you to know, you have been a breath of fresh air.
Big Mike: Really, I thought I was a pain.
Me: Seriously, you are my best client. I think I am going through a little bit of separation anxiety. I am sad we are closing today.
Big Mike: (chuckling) Really?
Me: Really. You were always so polite and friendly. You asked questions when necessary and you are just a pleasure to be around. Will you teach a "client class" and teach clients how to interact with their REALTOR.
He laughed and my tears went away. This is the first time this has happened so after we were finished, I ran to my broker and asked if that was weird. She let me know that it is normal, but it only happens once in a while. She said it gives us hope that there is another one out there and everyone is not a pain in the ass.
I am excited to work with Big Mike again in the future. He is that sigh of relief we all need. He is that calm feeling that washes over you when you need it the most. Seriously, he needs to teach a class or as a prerequisite for purchasing a home, clients must take up smoking or eating pot so they can chill out!
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Like Lightening
Every Sunday Josh and I grocery shop at our local Dillon's Marketplace (there is no other place to shop in Wichita; I don't like being forced to do things). We like going before church lets out and the flood gates open with mom and dad in their Sunday best with little Bobby and Billy in tow raking havoc upon the store.
Dillon's Marketplace is about the size of a Sam's Club or Costco but with the grocery store feel. It is not as nice as Publix, but it is a far cry from Winn Dixie or Food Lion. The Marketplace is truly a one stop shop, you can pick groceries up, mail letters, check out library books, pick up your pharmaceuticals (those necessary and those for the "over worked" soccer moms). Valium on aisle four, cookies aisle eight.
What really amazes me about the grocery store is that you can also furnish your entire home. When we first moved to Wichita, it was a little weird. I felt like we were back in 1832 and shopping at the general store because that is kind of what it is.
Anyway, this Sunday, we were a little late getting to the store. Josh's parents came to visit and it took a little bit to say our goodbyes. We make it to the store around 11:30-12CST and there were patrol cars in front of both entrances. I thought they might be stopping by to refuel on Starbucks and pastries, boy was I wrong.
We make our way through the store grabbing our essentials for the week: tuna, check; bread, check; chunky kid running through the store being chased by the police, check.
As we stood at the check out and unloaded our cart we heard a commotion. The manager in his bright red shirt was screaming "Catch him! Catch him!" We turned to or right and there he was, lightening. I call him lightening because he probably outweighed the toned officer chasing him by a good 70lbs. He shot past us and out the front door where some other officers were patiently waiting for him and placed him in the back of the police car. The chase was great! It was our own little Kentucky Derby in the Dillon's in Wichita! Lightening is off to a good start. He is out of the gate quickly with almost a full store length from Toned Officer. Lightening makes his way around the bend and out the door. Oh, no, Toned Officer's agility is off, he crashes into the stack of hand baskets...oh, wait, he's up and after him...
As we walked to the car, all I thought was this kid went from facing charges on petty theft to
resisting arrest, assaulting an officer, and general stupidity. Note: don't run from the people with guns. They usually win. For Lightening's stupidity, I was kind of rooting for him to get away because he out ran a man in better shape and it was the general highlight of my day.
Dillon's Marketplace is about the size of a Sam's Club or Costco but with the grocery store feel. It is not as nice as Publix, but it is a far cry from Winn Dixie or Food Lion. The Marketplace is truly a one stop shop, you can pick groceries up, mail letters, check out library books, pick up your pharmaceuticals (those necessary and those for the "over worked" soccer moms). Valium on aisle four, cookies aisle eight.
What really amazes me about the grocery store is that you can also furnish your entire home. When we first moved to Wichita, it was a little weird. I felt like we were back in 1832 and shopping at the general store because that is kind of what it is.
Anyway, this Sunday, we were a little late getting to the store. Josh's parents came to visit and it took a little bit to say our goodbyes. We make it to the store around 11:30-12CST and there were patrol cars in front of both entrances. I thought they might be stopping by to refuel on Starbucks and pastries, boy was I wrong.
We make our way through the store grabbing our essentials for the week: tuna, check; bread, check; chunky kid running through the store being chased by the police, check.
As we stood at the check out and unloaded our cart we heard a commotion. The manager in his bright red shirt was screaming "Catch him! Catch him!" We turned to or right and there he was, lightening. I call him lightening because he probably outweighed the toned officer chasing him by a good 70lbs. He shot past us and out the front door where some other officers were patiently waiting for him and placed him in the back of the police car. The chase was great! It was our own little Kentucky Derby in the Dillon's in Wichita! Lightening is off to a good start. He is out of the gate quickly with almost a full store length from Toned Officer. Lightening makes his way around the bend and out the door. Oh, no, Toned Officer's agility is off, he crashes into the stack of hand baskets...oh, wait, he's up and after him...
As we walked to the car, all I thought was this kid went from facing charges on petty theft to
resisting arrest, assaulting an officer, and general stupidity. Note: don't run from the people with guns. They usually win. For Lightening's stupidity, I was kind of rooting for him to get away because he out ran a man in better shape and it was the general highlight of my day.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
I am a Ninja
Well, I sold another house...hopefully. My client and I wrote this offer the second day of February and were supposed to close the forth day of March. Obviously, that didn't happen because I'm talking about it now. Anyway, we got a contract extension for the sixth of April, but hopefully we are closing Tuesday.
Almost two months ago I get a call from a young man looking for a house. He and his best friend are moving in together because he is currently going through a divorce and his buddy just moved to Wichita from Washington state. My client and his soon to be ex-wife have a daughter who is almost three. She is really cute. Anyway, he called me because he needed a house for himself, his buddy, and his daughter. I thought that was pretty cool considering how many guys are out there not thinking about stuff like that. I was also a little apprehensive about the situation because divorce is a messy thing and not knowing him well then, I didn't want to add to the friction and cause an explosion. With all the kooth I've had my entire life I told him I was just going to level with him and I asked, "So, when is the divorce final?" It was like a light switch turning on; he smiled, giggled, and then said, "Not soon enough."
I have learned that trying to be PC in this business will not make you money; being honest will. That actually makes me happy because I tend to have an issue with being PC all the time. It was comforting to see that I could be myself.
I show my client this house and he loves it. It is basically brand new with the bedroom/bathroom requirements he wants and for less than the top of his budget. I've never seen a grown man jump up and down over a house. He called his family on the west coast and immediately took pictures on his phone to send to his family while we were still inside. He was pretty excited. Everything was going well. The listing agent, lender and I were all in constant contact...until the lender decided to kind of drop off the face of the earth a week before closing. I called and called and called to make sure we were going to be able to close on the fourth of March. I got nothing until three days before we were closing. "Ugh, Christina, we aren't going to be able to close because the divorce is not final," the lender says. I say, "No problem, we ultimately have until the twenty-fourth of March to close. I will reschedule. What do I need to do to get this thing closed?" I was calm because we were still within the confines of the contract. "Well, I am not sure what you need to do." Seriously, you are a mortgage lender, how is it that you of all people do not know what you need from me to get this deal closed. So I asked my broker. In the state of Kansas, the rule is one to buy two to sell, unless you are already married. If you are married it is two to buy two to sell.
Since my client is not officially divorced, we needed to get his wife to sign a "quit claim deed." It basically says she won't claim anything he is purchasing during the separation and before the divorce is final. Neither my client's lawyer nor his wife's lawyer mentioned this to them, to me, or to the lender. At this point, I am posing as REALTOR/lawyer. I know more about Kansas divorce law than I care to think about. We get everything we need an that hurdle is cleared.
Days go by and I have been calling the lender at least twice a week. I am sure he hates me now. Oh well, it is not like I will be using him again for ANYTHING, not even to quote an interest rate. We are now to the end of the line and all I want is to be done with this deal.
I have decided that my new found ninja skills will come into play in the morning to make sure we close. I don't want my client homeless and I definitely don't want to have to put him up in a hotel. I hate for all the things I've done right, my client choosing the wrong lender could end this deal.
I have learned a lot and will never go through this again. The last seven months have been the biggest learning experience I've ever had. Keep your fingers crossed for Tuesday!
Almost two months ago I get a call from a young man looking for a house. He and his best friend are moving in together because he is currently going through a divorce and his buddy just moved to Wichita from Washington state. My client and his soon to be ex-wife have a daughter who is almost three. She is really cute. Anyway, he called me because he needed a house for himself, his buddy, and his daughter. I thought that was pretty cool considering how many guys are out there not thinking about stuff like that. I was also a little apprehensive about the situation because divorce is a messy thing and not knowing him well then, I didn't want to add to the friction and cause an explosion. With all the kooth I've had my entire life I told him I was just going to level with him and I asked, "So, when is the divorce final?" It was like a light switch turning on; he smiled, giggled, and then said, "Not soon enough."
I have learned that trying to be PC in this business will not make you money; being honest will. That actually makes me happy because I tend to have an issue with being PC all the time. It was comforting to see that I could be myself.
I show my client this house and he loves it. It is basically brand new with the bedroom/bathroom requirements he wants and for less than the top of his budget. I've never seen a grown man jump up and down over a house. He called his family on the west coast and immediately took pictures on his phone to send to his family while we were still inside. He was pretty excited. Everything was going well. The listing agent, lender and I were all in constant contact...until the lender decided to kind of drop off the face of the earth a week before closing. I called and called and called to make sure we were going to be able to close on the fourth of March. I got nothing until three days before we were closing. "Ugh, Christina, we aren't going to be able to close because the divorce is not final," the lender says. I say, "No problem, we ultimately have until the twenty-fourth of March to close. I will reschedule. What do I need to do to get this thing closed?" I was calm because we were still within the confines of the contract. "Well, I am not sure what you need to do." Seriously, you are a mortgage lender, how is it that you of all people do not know what you need from me to get this deal closed. So I asked my broker. In the state of Kansas, the rule is one to buy two to sell, unless you are already married. If you are married it is two to buy two to sell.
Since my client is not officially divorced, we needed to get his wife to sign a "quit claim deed." It basically says she won't claim anything he is purchasing during the separation and before the divorce is final. Neither my client's lawyer nor his wife's lawyer mentioned this to them, to me, or to the lender. At this point, I am posing as REALTOR/lawyer. I know more about Kansas divorce law than I care to think about. We get everything we need an that hurdle is cleared.
Days go by and I have been calling the lender at least twice a week. I am sure he hates me now. Oh well, it is not like I will be using him again for ANYTHING, not even to quote an interest rate. We are now to the end of the line and all I want is to be done with this deal.
I have decided that my new found ninja skills will come into play in the morning to make sure we close. I don't want my client homeless and I definitely don't want to have to put him up in a hotel. I hate for all the things I've done right, my client choosing the wrong lender could end this deal.
I have learned a lot and will never go through this again. The last seven months have been the biggest learning experience I've ever had. Keep your fingers crossed for Tuesday!
Monday, March 9, 2009
Building Building Building
The snow melted and the birds are chirping! All the signs of spring are upon us in the Midwest. The days are getting longer and the energy of the sunshine washes over me like the first little bit of water out of a garden hose that has been basking in bright rays all day. What a wonderful time to build house!
Josh and I are in the very beginning stages of building a house. This was the only way we could come to some middle ground in the purchase of our first home. See, I could honestly care less where we live; I would just like a garage, enough room for family and friends to visit, and a neighborhood where we won't get shot...oh, wait, we are in Wichita, it is pretty hard to get shot here (knocking on wood now). He on the other hand, would like something a little more modern, meaning in this century with a three car garage, etc. So we have compromised I did some research and the things we've come to love are not outrageous.
Now we begin! We wrote a check yesterday reserving the lot we've picked. All of this talk has become real. I feel like I just got punched in the stomach and like I just won a million dollars. The staff in my office always says "it is different when it is you." I thought they were shooting smoke up my ass, but I guess not. Now I know how my clients are feeling when I have them sign contracts and addendums and amendments. It is my job, with them, to stay calm and be their rock through the emotional process of home purchasing. When they say or do things that are completely irrational, I need to reassure them that things will be fine; they made the right decision.
Now, here we are. All of my expertise has been thrown out the window like yesterday's bathwater. I feel like I am in the ocean on a pool raft with my legs hanging above the shark infested water; it is the only thing keeping me afloat.
The roller coaster ride is just beginning, hopefully I don't puke before it is over.
Josh and I are in the very beginning stages of building a house. This was the only way we could come to some middle ground in the purchase of our first home. See, I could honestly care less where we live; I would just like a garage, enough room for family and friends to visit, and a neighborhood where we won't get shot...oh, wait, we are in Wichita, it is pretty hard to get shot here (knocking on wood now). He on the other hand, would like something a little more modern, meaning in this century with a three car garage, etc. So we have compromised I did some research and the things we've come to love are not outrageous.
Now we begin! We wrote a check yesterday reserving the lot we've picked. All of this talk has become real. I feel like I just got punched in the stomach and like I just won a million dollars. The staff in my office always says "it is different when it is you." I thought they were shooting smoke up my ass, but I guess not. Now I know how my clients are feeling when I have them sign contracts and addendums and amendments. It is my job, with them, to stay calm and be their rock through the emotional process of home purchasing. When they say or do things that are completely irrational, I need to reassure them that things will be fine; they made the right decision.
Now, here we are. All of my expertise has been thrown out the window like yesterday's bathwater. I feel like I am in the ocean on a pool raft with my legs hanging above the shark infested water; it is the only thing keeping me afloat.
The roller coaster ride is just beginning, hopefully I don't puke before it is over.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
On Fire
I think I am going to start a campaign here in Wichita to lay down road spikes or whatever they are called. You know, the rubber strips with pointy tire puncturing metal standing at attention, waiting for the squishy rubber to role over them. They curl up like a garden hose for portability; it would be very easy to sit in my lawn chair, role them out between the hours of 2pm and 4pm and see what happens.
I would like to place these spikes in school zones and for those who speed through these zones, they will suffer the consequences. The spikes should be speed sensitive so when someone exceeds the designated limit, POP! I don't think getting to your afternoon cocktail hour with the girls or getting to a tee time with the guys will be as important as possibly wrecking your car or having to replace your tires more often.
I am sure you have to be able to read to pass the driving test. How can you miss the words SCHOOL ZONE! I think it will be a wonderful incentive for people to slow down. If the speedsters cannot read, the big orange/yellow flashing light should indicate a slower speed.
All I can think about when people speed past my car is "what if they hit a kid?" I am sure they'd slow down then. Sitting in a 6x9 seems like a lot of fun, maybe that's why they speed. I know I love being on another persons schedule. I guess you wouldn't have to worry about whose cooking dinner tonight.
Just a little rant, I needed to get it off my chest.
I would like to place these spikes in school zones and for those who speed through these zones, they will suffer the consequences. The spikes should be speed sensitive so when someone exceeds the designated limit, POP! I don't think getting to your afternoon cocktail hour with the girls or getting to a tee time with the guys will be as important as possibly wrecking your car or having to replace your tires more often.
I am sure you have to be able to read to pass the driving test. How can you miss the words SCHOOL ZONE! I think it will be a wonderful incentive for people to slow down. If the speedsters cannot read, the big orange/yellow flashing light should indicate a slower speed.
All I can think about when people speed past my car is "what if they hit a kid?" I am sure they'd slow down then. Sitting in a 6x9 seems like a lot of fun, maybe that's why they speed. I know I love being on another persons schedule. I guess you wouldn't have to worry about whose cooking dinner tonight.
Just a little rant, I needed to get it off my chest.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Gangster Fabulous
For as long as I can remember, my parents, mainly my father, have called me a thug. My general response has been "It is not my fault, I came by it honestly." Now, I have evidence that it is not my fault when I engage in thuggish behavior. I do come by it honestly.
We watch History Channel a lot. They have pretty interesting shows like Gangland, Jurassic Fight Club, and Band of Brothers. They also do special shows cascading an era, culture, or event. Recently, we watched a special on John Wilkes Booth and the sordid assassination plot against Abraham Lincoln. I never knew it was so involved. The government hung four people for being the ring leaders and put two or three more in federal; all in all, the government tried twelve people. Before any of this took place, the hunt for John Wilkes Booth and David Herold was crazy. People with Confederate sympathy, shunned him. He thought he would be a hero in the South, but boy was he wrong.
The government put a bounty on his head and then they went looking for him through the woods of Maryland and Virginia. No one wanted to help him because if they did, they would be considered "accessories after that fact" and sent to federal prison, like Dr. Mudd. I guess what is where the saying comes from.
Anyway, they were all thugs! JWB for the assassination of the President and the forethought that went into it; our army for setting the barn where he hid on fire to extort a surrender; the government for offering a bounty for him; the soldier who shot him rather than waiting for him to come out (honestly, there is only so much smoke you can inhale before you pass out or give up); and the crowd watching and cheering while his four accomplices were hung.
Our country as a whole is the biggest thug in this situation. People were getting pulled off the street and killed because they looked like JWB. I guess they believed "shoot first, ask questions later." Maybe they had more luck asking the dead questions than I would.
As we watched the episode, all I could think is this is gangster fabulous. It is not my fault, I was born to a country whose actions are inherent in my bones...
Hopefully, you all know my sense of humor by now. I am not running out to get my 9 or my GATT and embrace the true thug inside, just thought I'd throw that out there!
We watch History Channel a lot. They have pretty interesting shows like Gangland, Jurassic Fight Club, and Band of Brothers. They also do special shows cascading an era, culture, or event. Recently, we watched a special on John Wilkes Booth and the sordid assassination plot against Abraham Lincoln. I never knew it was so involved. The government hung four people for being the ring leaders and put two or three more in federal; all in all, the government tried twelve people. Before any of this took place, the hunt for John Wilkes Booth and David Herold was crazy. People with Confederate sympathy, shunned him. He thought he would be a hero in the South, but boy was he wrong.
The government put a bounty on his head and then they went looking for him through the woods of Maryland and Virginia. No one wanted to help him because if they did, they would be considered "accessories after that fact" and sent to federal prison, like Dr. Mudd. I guess what is where the saying comes from.
Anyway, they were all thugs! JWB for the assassination of the President and the forethought that went into it; our army for setting the barn where he hid on fire to extort a surrender; the government for offering a bounty for him; the soldier who shot him rather than waiting for him to come out (honestly, there is only so much smoke you can inhale before you pass out or give up); and the crowd watching and cheering while his four accomplices were hung.
Our country as a whole is the biggest thug in this situation. People were getting pulled off the street and killed because they looked like JWB. I guess they believed "shoot first, ask questions later." Maybe they had more luck asking the dead questions than I would.
As we watched the episode, all I could think is this is gangster fabulous. It is not my fault, I was born to a country whose actions are inherent in my bones...
Hopefully, you all know my sense of humor by now. I am not running out to get my 9 or my GATT and embrace the true thug inside, just thought I'd throw that out there!
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
My New Favorite Quote
As many Americans, I was glued to the television to watch the inauguration. I thought it was a wonderful historical moment. I did not truly get inspired until the benediction was given by Reverend Doctor Joseph Lowery
This is now my favorite quote:
"...we work for that day when black will not be asked to get back and when brown can stick around, when yellow will be mellow, when the red man can get ahead man, and when white will embrace what is right, that all those who do justice and love mercy say Amen!"
This is now my favorite quote:
"...we work for that day when black will not be asked to get back and when brown can stick around, when yellow will be mellow, when the red man can get ahead man, and when white will embrace what is right, that all those who do justice and love mercy say Amen!"
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Give Me My Money Back
For the past several months all we've heard on the news is "Recession, Stimulus Plan, Lay Offs, OMG, What is America to Do?"
I am OVER IT! First of all we have seen worse times; remember the Great Depression. That was a time when people making minimum wage would never buy a brand new Mercedes just because they got approved for the loan. People didn't write checks their asses couldn't cash. No one lived in a million dollar home unless you had money like John D. Rockefeller. Where has our pragmatism gone?
It frustrates me when I think about how Americans spend their money. What makes me want to live on an island with an unending supply of pina coladas and music, is how much money we have loaned to other countries and never gotten back. I know, I know, it is for the good of the world and we should help our fellow man blah, blah, blah! Well, screw that! Where are they when we need help? Where were these countries when Katrina hit or when we began sending troops to the middle east? Half of America is highly uneducated. Children grow up to be ineffective uneducated adults who might have to pull me over because I have a tail light out or something. If you are going to give me a ticket, it might be a good idea to know what it says! I digress.
My stimulus plan goes as follows: First, hire all the Shylock's/loan sharks in our country and send them out on "special assignment" to do what they do best: collect money from the people who owe us by any means necessary. Second, the Bank of "I'm gonna loan a bunch of money to people I know can't and won't pay it back"closes for good. The only way this particular bank is to be reopened is if all recipients of these loans agree to pay 10 percentage points for every month they are late repaying the debt; or they can immediately hand their country over to the U.S. with no hostility (or you all will be shot and fed to the sharks) and we will call it even. If there is any derivation from the plan on the borrowers part, we will annihilate the entire country and start over from scratch. Third, survival of the fittest applies everywhere. If you can't make it, I guess you are SOL. You may ask for a modicum of help, but we draw the line at millions of dollars. You know, when people get hungry, they WILL find a way to eat. I don't understand how any of this is our problem. I think we should take care of our own and then when we are all taken care of, reach out to those in need.
The point of this stimulus plan is for these countries to just give me my money back! The sooner they do that, the sooner Christina's stimulus plan will be lifted.
I am OVER IT! First of all we have seen worse times; remember the Great Depression. That was a time when people making minimum wage would never buy a brand new Mercedes just because they got approved for the loan. People didn't write checks their asses couldn't cash. No one lived in a million dollar home unless you had money like John D. Rockefeller. Where has our pragmatism gone?
It frustrates me when I think about how Americans spend their money. What makes me want to live on an island with an unending supply of pina coladas and music, is how much money we have loaned to other countries and never gotten back. I know, I know, it is for the good of the world and we should help our fellow man blah, blah, blah! Well, screw that! Where are they when we need help? Where were these countries when Katrina hit or when we began sending troops to the middle east? Half of America is highly uneducated. Children grow up to be ineffective uneducated adults who might have to pull me over because I have a tail light out or something. If you are going to give me a ticket, it might be a good idea to know what it says! I digress.
My stimulus plan goes as follows: First, hire all the Shylock's/loan sharks in our country and send them out on "special assignment" to do what they do best: collect money from the people who owe us by any means necessary. Second, the Bank of "I'm gonna loan a bunch of money to people I know can't and won't pay it back"closes for good. The only way this particular bank is to be reopened is if all recipients of these loans agree to pay 10 percentage points for every month they are late repaying the debt; or they can immediately hand their country over to the U.S. with no hostility (or you all will be shot and fed to the sharks) and we will call it even. If there is any derivation from the plan on the borrowers part, we will annihilate the entire country and start over from scratch. Third, survival of the fittest applies everywhere. If you can't make it, I guess you are SOL. You may ask for a modicum of help, but we draw the line at millions of dollars. You know, when people get hungry, they WILL find a way to eat. I don't understand how any of this is our problem. I think we should take care of our own and then when we are all taken care of, reach out to those in need.
The point of this stimulus plan is for these countries to just give me my money back! The sooner they do that, the sooner Christina's stimulus plan will be lifted.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Marriage #2
The 22nd of January marked the anniversary of our time here in Wichita. It crept up really fast. So, since we have been here a little over a year and I have worked in my office just over 6 months, I guess minding my business is still really important to some of the people I work with.
If you use an earlier post titled Marriage as a reference, this is the continuation of that wonderful story/event/time I will never get back/brain shrinking conversation.
Setting: The work room in my office. This is where the computers, staplers, tape, blank contracts, etc. are in my office. It also poses as a general gathering/gossiping place for the staff.
Lady in my office: How are you?
Me: Good. How are you?
LIMO: What are you doing?
Me:Looking for houses for Josh and I. We are slowly beginning the search for a house of our own.
LIMO: (Eye roll then face scrunch) Well, when is he going to put a ring on your finger?
Me: Probably after we buy a house.
LIMO: Well, why would he get married, you know, why buy the cow when you get the milk free.
Seriously lady! WTF! It took everything in me not to square off and punch her in her dentures, then laugh while they slid down her chicken neck looking throat.
Me: (Smiling) You know, this has been the only place we've lived where people care that we aren't married. It is really weird.
LIMO: Does that bother you?
Me: No, I am just shocked people care so much about my business. It is really weird.
I got up and walked out of the workroom. I fumed for about five minutes. Now, looking back on these conversations she engages me in, I laugh. I have decided this is the beginning of a game for me. This will begin my slow mental destruction of old ladies who have too much time on their hands so they feel obligated to mind my business.
The game will go as follows; she will ask me a question about my relationship with Josh or she will ask me what happened to my hair/clothes/shoes/whatever and I will immediately respond with something ridiculous. It can't be totally outrageous because I want her to think about what she just asked me and then go talk about it with the other agents to see how long it will take to get back to me.
Example:
LIMO: When are you getting married?
Me: When we have another black person in the office.
I am sure she will be appalled.
Example 2
LIMO: What happened to your hair?
Me: I don't know, I just woke up like this.
I am sure she will look at me like I am crazy.
Example 3
LIMO:...why buy the cow if you can get the milk free.
Me: We have a 2 bedroom apartment for a reason, he has his room and I have mine.
I am actually excited to see how this all pans out. That post will probably be Marriage #3!
If you use an earlier post titled Marriage as a reference, this is the continuation of that wonderful story/event/time I will never get back/brain shrinking conversation.
Setting: The work room in my office. This is where the computers, staplers, tape, blank contracts, etc. are in my office. It also poses as a general gathering/gossiping place for the staff.
Lady in my office: How are you?
Me: Good. How are you?
LIMO: What are you doing?
Me:Looking for houses for Josh and I. We are slowly beginning the search for a house of our own.
LIMO: (Eye roll then face scrunch) Well, when is he going to put a ring on your finger?
Me: Probably after we buy a house.
LIMO: Well, why would he get married, you know, why buy the cow when you get the milk free.
Seriously lady! WTF! It took everything in me not to square off and punch her in her dentures, then laugh while they slid down her chicken neck looking throat.
Me: (Smiling) You know, this has been the only place we've lived where people care that we aren't married. It is really weird.
LIMO: Does that bother you?
Me: No, I am just shocked people care so much about my business. It is really weird.
I got up and walked out of the workroom. I fumed for about five minutes. Now, looking back on these conversations she engages me in, I laugh. I have decided this is the beginning of a game for me. This will begin my slow mental destruction of old ladies who have too much time on their hands so they feel obligated to mind my business.
The game will go as follows; she will ask me a question about my relationship with Josh or she will ask me what happened to my hair/clothes/shoes/whatever and I will immediately respond with something ridiculous. It can't be totally outrageous because I want her to think about what she just asked me and then go talk about it with the other agents to see how long it will take to get back to me.
Example:
LIMO: When are you getting married?
Me: When we have another black person in the office.
I am sure she will be appalled.
Example 2
LIMO: What happened to your hair?
Me: I don't know, I just woke up like this.
I am sure she will look at me like I am crazy.
Example 3
LIMO:...why buy the cow if you can get the milk free.
Me: We have a 2 bedroom apartment for a reason, he has his room and I have mine.
I am actually excited to see how this all pans out. That post will probably be Marriage #3!
Tho Some Ds on Em
I use to regard Atlanta as the rims, dubs, chrome capital of the world. I went a few years ago for a concert and was mesmerized. I became a little like Rain Man because huge Escalades with tinted windows (probably to protect the occupants eyes from the shine of the rims) passed and all I could think of was "Ooh, shiny!" I knew it was a real problem when we were sitting in traffic on Peachtree Street, or the worlds largest parking lot, and a '85 Toyota Camry rolls up with chrome spinners and all I could think about was "Ooh shiny!" I knew I'd seen everything. It was cool to see people truly have more money than sense. The persuasion of people with rims ran the gambit too. Never in my life have I seen so many Lil John wannabes and suburban soccer moms with rims on their vehicles. I won't lie, I wanted to move!
My lust for Atlanta soon faded and shifted to L.A. (only because I moved there). If you were to take a poll, I am sure L.A. has more cars with rims, but per ca pita, Atlanta wins hands down. The biggest difference in Atlanta rims and L.A. rims is the diversity in cars with rims. People in Atlanta will put rims on ANYTHING! People in L.A. tend to put rims on luxury vehicles. L.A. also tends to vary in color. I've seen chrome, black, white, blue and red rims. That is truly where my love affair with dubs began. My nights were filled with fantasies of getting rims and putting them on a mini van when I become a mom, no, wait, that never happened, but I did have dreams about putting rims on a big Tahoe with a bumpin' system! I could pick out every car with rims and tell the difference, meanwhile having Josh in my ear telling me they all suck (it is the artist in him).
Anyway, we moved to Wichita, you know, land of OZ, and I have been floored ever since we got here. I shake my head everyday as I'm on my way to work. Here we are, middle America, land of conservative Anglo Saxons...and they all have rims on their cars! My broker is well into her sixties and she has rims and a chrome grill on her bright red Tahoe! All the soccer moms have rims. I don't get it. I thought rims were supposed to represent how thug you are. I thought rims were for black people and Mexicans. Never in a million years would I have thought I'd see Barbie gathering little Sarah and Tommy into the car with chrome shining like the sun on cloudless summer day in Florida. I am feeling more left out here than I was in Atlanta or L.A.
So, I guess the more successful I become, I will have to put aside a "Tho Some Ds on Em" fund so I can be part of the club too (that fund will also be attached to the "Diamond Grillz for Christina fund).
My lust for Atlanta soon faded and shifted to L.A. (only because I moved there). If you were to take a poll, I am sure L.A. has more cars with rims, but per ca pita, Atlanta wins hands down. The biggest difference in Atlanta rims and L.A. rims is the diversity in cars with rims. People in Atlanta will put rims on ANYTHING! People in L.A. tend to put rims on luxury vehicles. L.A. also tends to vary in color. I've seen chrome, black, white, blue and red rims. That is truly where my love affair with dubs began. My nights were filled with fantasies of getting rims and putting them on a mini van when I become a mom, no, wait, that never happened, but I did have dreams about putting rims on a big Tahoe with a bumpin' system! I could pick out every car with rims and tell the difference, meanwhile having Josh in my ear telling me they all suck (it is the artist in him).
Anyway, we moved to Wichita, you know, land of OZ, and I have been floored ever since we got here. I shake my head everyday as I'm on my way to work. Here we are, middle America, land of conservative Anglo Saxons...and they all have rims on their cars! My broker is well into her sixties and she has rims and a chrome grill on her bright red Tahoe! All the soccer moms have rims. I don't get it. I thought rims were supposed to represent how thug you are. I thought rims were for black people and Mexicans. Never in a million years would I have thought I'd see Barbie gathering little Sarah and Tommy into the car with chrome shining like the sun on cloudless summer day in Florida. I am feeling more left out here than I was in Atlanta or L.A.
So, I guess the more successful I become, I will have to put aside a "Tho Some Ds on Em" fund so I can be part of the club too (that fund will also be attached to the "Diamond Grillz for Christina fund).
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