In over my head

So. The condo.

You know how you have to get pre-approved? And, apparently, when you get pre-approved, it would make sense to also find out the terms of the loan options you are approved for? Well, I kind of overlooked that last part.

The day we put the offer in, my mortgage broker assured me I was pre-approved, but never explained how the breakdown would work. Since I've never done this before, it didn't occur to me to ask. I guess I just figured that would come up at some point, but it couldn't be that big of a deal since the bank said I could afford it. Ha. Now I understand why the entire country is so fucked.

With the mortgage, HOAs, insurance, and taxes, I'd be paying about $3000 per month. I currently pay $1440 in rent. "But you'll get roughly $400 back per month for tax write offs," she explained, as if to reassure me.

Now, I'm not very good at math, but I failed to see how an extra $400 per month would bridge a $1500 difference. I do save a few hundred dollars every month - but not nine hundred dollars.

"You can put more money down," she offered, referring to my 10%.

Yeah, I could - if I had more money. It's not like I have 20% lying around, and I just want to pay more interest. Truthfully, I could probably put 15% down, but I'd be draining my savings, and I don't know that I'm entirely comfortable with that.

So I thought about it for a bit, but, really, there wasn't much to think about. Nine hundred dollars per month is not cut-back-on-Starbucks and lay-off-the-shoe-shopping money. That's cancel my gym membership, cable TV, internet, phone, and hell, I'd have to quit my job and find one closer to home just to avoid my current gas expenditures. I know I don't know much, but I'm pretty sure quitting my job is not the solution to this problem.

So I reluctantly told my real estate agent that I was done, I couldn't swing it. Part of me felt duped by the mortgage broker, but mostly I just felt foolish that I never asked this in the first place. And in all the time that we had been going back and forth with the counter offers, I had already started thinking of this place as my home.

After I wrote the post on Friday, I spent a good deal of Sunday researching "how to buy a condo." I made a list of appropriate questions to ask, and finally understood the process enough to come up with some of my own. I read, and re-read, the purchase agreement several times, enough to answer many of the questions on my list. By Monday morning, when the broker finally wrote me back with the breakdown, I felt in control of the situation, and excited at being such a responsible, knowledgeable adult.

And then, it was all for naught.

Or maybe not.

When my real estate agent told the selling agent that I was backing out, the selling agent asked what the price would have to be to make it work for me. (!!!) And now that I've spoken to a few friends, they've encouraged me to contact another mortgage broker, or maybe even an accountant, someone who might better explain my options for financing. While I know I can't swing an extra $900 per month, it might be worth considering putting a little more money down to lower the costs. And if, by some miracle, this place is still available when I get back from Peru, I'll be able to get it for lower than my original bid. At that point, I could almost definitely put 15% down, and maybe the monthly payments would be less of an issue. I don't know. I just don't know.

What I do know is that I like this place. I'm heartbroken at the thought of losing it. I don't want to get it for the wrong reasons, but I don't want to miss out on a good opportunity just because I don't fully understand my options. Right now I just feel like such a girl. And I have no business buying anything if I can't start thinking like a woman.

Is it still giving back if I'm getting so much out of it?

Getting away from the drama of the condo purchase, and the election, and the downward state of the economy, I'd like to tell you about this work project I've been busy with.

It's well documented on this blog that I have a tiny thing for soap operas. Well, I had a tiny thing. I haven't watched any in a few years, and most of my affection for the genre is really borne out of nostalgia for when I watched them back in the 80's and 90's. Last year, I had a chance to meet and work with one of the women I grew up watching. This year, I had another.

About eight months ago, I got a phone call from this woman's manager, claiming that the actress, who lives in Pasadena, has been a long-time fan of our products, and if we ever needed a spokesperson, they would love to talk to us. My company doesn't use a spokesperson - we don't even have an advertising budget - but I was intrigued by the idea of working together, so I said I would think about it and get back to her.

The woman (I don't want to mention names here, due to work and Google) has been actively involved in the fight against breast cancer through a locally-based but nationally-reaching organization. I thought, what if the soap company and the soap star co-created a soap bar, and donated all the proceeds to this organization for breast cancer research? Everyone loved the idea, and, indeed, a soap star was born.

We came up with two products - a single bar for $8 ($5 of which is donated) and a gift set of two bars and a natural wood soap dish for $20 ($12 of which is donated).

In the time I've been working on this, I have had such a blast. The actress and her publicist have been a dream to work with, and the organization has been helpful and thankful. We did an in-store event yesterday in Pasadena, and have another in Scottsdale on Wednesday. The press is rolling in, and I've had the satisfaction of not only working with one of my childhood idols, but actually helping others in the process. And it doesn't hurt that the soap is beautiful to boot.

No pressure whatsoever, but if you feel so inclined to restock your shower, or maybe have a gift to get for someone anyway, I'd like to encourage you to buy a bar or two. The soaps are 100% natural with no artificial dyes or perfumes, making it safe for all skin types, and ideal for sensitive skin. You'll be supporting me, fighting breast cancer, and maybe even reminding yourself that it's absolutely possible to love what you do.

Starry-eyed

What. A. Week!

I made an offer on the condo. They countered, but didn't raise the selling price, only changed a few details of the contract. The building is only 40% owner-occupied, which banks, apparently, don't find so desirable, so the seller wants me to get pre-approved by their broker in addition to my own. They also changed some of the time frames and buyer/seller payment agreements, which are negligible. I love the place. Everyone I've talked to has assured me this is a good, sound purchase. I feel in my gut that it probably is. There is just one thing that has me worried.

Mercury is in retrograde.

I know that probably sounds ridiculous. In a way, it is. Who on earth would make such a huge decision based on astrology? Anyone who would probably shouldn't be saddled with the responsibility of buying a home in the first place, right?

While I don't necessarily subscribe to everything the stars supposedly tell us, I do believe in this retrograde thing. I can't explain why. Just like I believe in ghosts, or that water freezes below 32 degrees, I just know. Here's a great link which explains Mercury in retrograde and specifically, how it relates to buying real estate. Even if you don't believe in astrology, you have to agree, the link gives some good advice.

I can't, in my right mind, turn my back on this opportunity because of the stars. But I can take what it dictates to heart, and go over this contract with a fine tooth comb, ask every question in the book (maybe a few times), and be more diligent than I ever have about anything in my life. Because this is, without a doubt, the biggest and most important purchase I've made in my life.

Being as diligent as I need to be may take a few days, and therefore, cause me to lose the place. In a weird way, I'm kind of hoping that I do. I wouldn't mind an excuse for this to fall through, so I won't have to decide to defy Mercury. It would almost be reassuring if they went with the second offer - I could convince myself I dodged a bullet. Of course, it would be even better if the second offer fell through just in time for my return from Peru when Mercury will go direct. Then I can swoop in and take back my place with the security knowing all my stars have been aligned.

In the middle of all this craziness, I've been planning for a big work event tomorrow. And don't think Mercury hasn't affected that, either! Remember, around this time last year, I did a big store event, only, up until four hours before it, we didn't have a store? I had one of those moments today. Fortunately, we found a band-aid to get us through tomorrow, though I think we're going to need some serious stitches to get us through the month.

Good thing Venus, master of cosmetic surgery, is fully direct.

UPDATE: For what it's worth, here is a perfectly articulated summation of how I felt about the debate tonight. It's like Mercury has resurrected Paul Reiser from the past (seriously, where has he been the last ten years?) just to vocalize my thoughts, because I haven't been able to put my finger on exactly why I felt so ambiguous and empty inside tonight. Yes, most of the pundits are agreeing that Obama won, and yet, I still don't feel like it was enough.

Stepping into some major shoes

When I was a sophomore in college, I flew down to Florida to spend spring break with my grandparents. I know it's not exactly the MTV/Girls Gone Wild scene you'd imagine I'd be into (that would wait til Senior year) but I spent seven days doing nothing but sleeping, suntanning, soap opera watching, and letting my Grandma take me clothes shopping. It was a pretty nice life. Joe Francis should be so lucky.

Early in the week and in our shopping, I found these AMAZING Steve Madden shoes. These were black-trimmed, white patent leather platform wedge sandals. Possibly suitable for a Bee Gee, or maybe, a Spice Girl. It was 1996 and I LOVED them.

But they were kind of expensive. More than I had ever spent on shoes before, and more than I felt comfortable asking my grandmother to pay for. Til then, most of our purchases consisted of Keds, jelly sandals, the occasional Tretorn tennie. I wasn't quite ready to initiate her into shopping for "sorority shoes." Instead I tried them on, gazed longingly at their shiny newness and staggering height, and put them back on the shelf where I reluctantly decided they belonged.

"If you really want them," my grandma offered, "I'll buy them for you."

"No, that's okay." I wasn't being passive aggressive. I was just starting to develop my own fashion sense at that point, and even I wasn't convinced I should get them. Who was I, I thought? I couldn't let her buy me something my responsible side thought might be frivolous.

I spent the week thinking about those shoes. In my head, I matched them to outfits already in my closet, pictured the envy of my friends when I would bring them back to school. Nothing else I saw in the stores, compared, and my Grandma sensed my loss. "We're going back," she declared, on my last day in town. "I haven't seen you light up over anything the way you did those shoes, and what is a Grandma for, if not to spoil her first grandchild?"

We went back to Burdines and thankfully, they were still there, meant to be mine. I did become the envy of my friends, even though the white patent leather scuffed after the first wear. But I treasured them every time I wore them. They quickly became a part of the new stylish self I was growing into, and I couldn't imagine myself or my spring semester without them.

Since then, that has always been my marker for major purchases: If I leave it in the store and forget all about it, I definitely didn't need it in the first place. But if I'm still daydreaming about it days later? Worth going back for a second look.

Which is why I went back to the condo tonight. I have been thinking about it non-stop since Sunday, and how much I could actually see myself there. In my head I was already placing the furniture, feeling sad thinking it would go to someone else. I know Mercury is retrograde and I'm going to Peru and my stock guy said to wait. But I have this feeling like it just might fit, and I think it might be worth making an offer.

Gulp.

Small fortunes

I've been looking for condos on and off for a year now. Today was the first day I found not one, but two, things in my price range that were not only acceptable, but places I would be excited to move into. I'm not jumping into anything yet, for a number of reasons, but it is encouraging to see that the market has come down enough to make buying a reality for me.

Of those reasons, one is that my financial adviser, among others, is convinced the market will continue to go down for at least another six months to a year. He specifically told me that if I'm not being forced to move, don't, unless I get an amazing deal. The two places I saw today seemed like amazing deals, and one I would actually consider putting in a bid for. Except for the other reasons. One of which is that Mercury is currently retrograding, and you are never supposed to make big purchases in such a period. I would never base such a huge decision solely on something as flaky as astrology, but if there are other factors, I will certainly take the solar alignment into consideration.

One of the other factors is Peru, which is only three weeks away! I'm not about to start something fairly major and ripe in legal entanglements when I'm leaving the country for seven days. I'm kind of hoping that the second place I saw today will still be on the market when I get back. By then, Mercury will be direct, I'll be in the country, and I'll likely get it for much less than it's listed for now. And if not, then that will be a good sign it wasn't meant to be.

Speaking of Peru, almost everything is booked! We fly into Lima on a Saturday, stay in the suburb of Miraflores Saturday through Tuesday. Then, Tuesday, we fly to Cusco for our four-day excursion to Machu Picchu. Only one full day is Machu Picchu. Another is an Indian Village tour, another is a city tour. You can view the full itinerary here. Friday we fly back to Lima and we are staying in a super nice hotel for our last night, to make up for the fact that we're staying in a hostel in Cusco. I don't think it's like a bad hostel, just like a really, really, really basic hotel. But still. For that last night, we got an amazing rate at the Miraflores Park Hotel, and I think it will be just what the doctor ordered.

I can't get too excited about Peru, though, until the next ten days are over. I've been working on this really exciting and fabulous work project that culminates on October 1, and, until then, my attention is focused on that. I'll write more about this project either this week or next, and I hope you all will support me, as it is not only a personal pet project of mine but it also helps a great number of people across the country. More info to come.

I watched the movie Fiddler on the Roof this weekend, for the first time, ever. It seemed appropriate to title this post, "If I Were a Rich Girl" [(Yubbi dibby dibby dibby dibby dibby dibby dum (or na na na na na na na na na na, if you prefer the Gwen Stefani version)], simply because I am looking at the lowest priced, reasonably liveable condos on the market. And that I'm staying in a hostel, despite the fact that I am 32 years old and really, REALLY, appreciate things like a hot shower. Clearly, I am not rich, but make plans like I aspire to be. But I have to honestly say that I feel EXTREMELY rich right now, wealthy in experience and friends and luck and energy... I am a rich girl. If not on paper or in my pocketbook, in life.

La la la, I can't hear you!

Hey! Remember when I used to have interesting things to write about?

Yeah, me neither. I'm open to suggestions.

Until then, I'll be obsessively hitting refresh on the Huffington Post, but unable to read anything, what with my head buried in the sand.

American Economy. Catastrophic Failure. Four More Years. Do Not Want.

Laura's Wedding Weekend

I just got back from a fun-filled, three-day weekend in San Diego for my friend Laura's wedding. I'm too tired to go into detail, so feel free to view these photos, for now. Enjoy!

Top that

I don't watch much TV, but I have a serious thing for Gossip Girl. I don't care about the fashion or the boys or the sex or the money - the "bright lights, big city" glossy magazine moolah that gets the show most of its press - but I am obsessed with the writing.

I've often been turned off by shows that give teenage characters too-mature content. I could look past the soapy storylines of BH 90210, because, drama aside, they still spoke like people my age. But when the 16-year-olds on Dawson's Creek peppered every point with SAT words and had the perfect comeback at every corner, the whole show seemed to me to be entirely, annoyingly, too scripted.

So I find it funny that Gossip Girl's grown-up discourse has me glued to the TV. Specifically, I'm fostering an audible affair on Blair. I don't know if they give her the best lines or she just delivers them better than anyone else on set, but her snappy sarcasm and witty retorts set the pace of the show, and she steals every scene she is in. I watched Monday's episode with my jaw on the floor, my laugh, out loud, and a major girl crush in development.

After Monday's episode, I headed to IMDB to soak up as much extraneous information as I could. And that's where I found a real gem of information, not under Blair's biography, but Serena's.

I had heard that Blake Lively had come from a showbiz family, and knew that her older brother had played Rusty in the European Vacation movie. But I don't think I ever knew that her sister starred in one of my all-time favorite adolescent movies EVER!

Please tell me I am not the only one who remembers Teen Witch. HBO must have been hard up for programming back in the day, because this was on all. the. time. after school; no joke, I've seen this movie 50 times. Talk about a girl crush - I thought Louise was gorgeous and that no one with hair that perfect could have been unpopular. I treasured the scene where she and Brad run alone, through the empty house, as he admits his crush on her. And I sang along, loudly and unabashedly, to the movie's anthem, Most Popular Girl, at the significant story arc.

And, oh. Speaking of the movie's music, maybe you remember this classic scene. I don't know how much more cringe-inducing it gets than late-80's, white guy versus white girl rap-off, but, at the time, I thought this was pretty fantastic.



You're welcome.

Sew exciting!

I've lived in Los Angeles long enough now that this probably shouldn't excite me. But these photos taken of Ben and Jen and the most adorable toddler that ever lived, Violet Affleck, were taken in the same strip mall in which my tailor is located.

In fact, you can even see it there in the background:

The only reason I even recognized it is because the parking situation in said strip mall is notoriously horrendous, and I can't tell you how many times I have spent five minutes at the tailor dropping off a pair of pants and 20 minutes in the parking lot standing around, waiting for my car. (Valet is the only option.) It's gotten to the point where I now drive around the block a few times, in the hopes of finding free street parking, but it's a permit-only area off Wilshire. So I've learned to bring a book and, after my last trip, an umbrella, but now I guess I'll have one more way to pass the time: celebrity spotting.

Still looking for the application that lets me download a boyfriend

Apparently I need not worry about the fact that I'm learning to speak Spanish with a Scottish accent.

According to an article in today's New York Times, there are iPhone applications that will not only translate the phrase I'm looking for, but will actually speak it FOR me, in Spanish.

This begs a few questions:

Where was this thing when I needed it in high school? Is there anything the iPhone can NOT do? And does anyone else feel that we're uncomfortably close to living like the Jetsons?

How can the life of such a man be in the palm of some fool's hand

To say that I'm obsessed with my iPhone would be putting it mildly. The only thing that might possibly hold my interest more is this crazy election.

Last night I sat, transfixed on my couch, dedicating half of my attention to Palin's speech, and the other half refreshing my Facebook application, reading the seemingly constant updates from my friends in response to said speech. Never mind that my laptop was five feet away - the iPhone fit so conveniently in one hand, leaving the other one free to gag myself.

About 80% of the comments were stating what I thought was obvious: that she was all sass and no substance. Most of the comments were from people who, like me, saw through the rhetoric and won't be voting Republican.

But then, every so often, someone would chime in about how they were a "pal of Palin" or how inspiring she was, and I was like, Really? I'm friends with you? What on earth do we have in common? And I kind of, just maybe, thought about defriending them.

Of course, I'm totally kidding about defriending them.

Except, maybe not totally.

iLori

A couple of weeks ago, I upgraded my wireless pay-per-text plan to an unlimited one. Since then, some glitch in the system caused all of my texts to be sent as "slide show" messages, and thus virtually unreadable to half of my friends.

After a two-week text hiatus, I finally went to the AT&T store at lunch today, to see if they could fix it. But, once I learned I was eligible for an upgrade, I purchased the iPhone instead.

I've only had it for about three hours now but I am too obsessed with it to do any work. I'm so not a tech person, and could care less about most gadgets, but this? This is no gadget. This is salvation. Seriously, it blows my mind that, only four years ago, I was just figuring out how to text and getting DSL in my apartment; and now I have unlimited Internet capabilities on something that fits in my hand.

Perhaps most astoundingly, I have GPS navigation. Where was THAT when I moved here a few years ago? The concept of GPS had barely been invented then, let alone accessible to anyone for less than a few hundred dollars. Now, thanks to this, I'll never again have to rely on Mapquest printouts or my own questionable sense of direction.

I'd been wanting this phone for a while, and am, so far, so pleased with my decision. This will have to put a temporary cap on my spending, however. I just booked the 4-Day Machu Picchu tour within our Peru trip, and we still need to book our flights to Cusco and hotel rooms in Lima.

I did, fortunately, find a FABULOUS, free way to learn Spanish before I go. Thanks to Mazing Amy, who suggested checking iTunes for free podcasts. I came across Coffee Break Spanish, which has a library of 15-minute lessons, starting from the basic "hola" (Holla!) (Challah!) to more advanced conversation. What I find hilarious and truly entertaining, though, is that the instructors are from Scotland; so, apropos to my heritage, I am learning to speak Spanish with a sexy Scottish brogue.