The Hard Way...

So, with each passing day, a little part of me hopes I am moving closer to signing on the house I want so that this can be over with...In reality, this isn't happening. In reality, everything is screwed up. I don't even know how it is that these things happen. Of course, it's my life and I should expect it because that second shoe always drops. I don't care what anyone says ("It's not sane to live your life waiting for the bad to happen!"), this is the way it goes. Things will seem like they're okay, but what no one can see is the "Big Plan" in which everything will go to hell in a hand basket when no one is looking. (What the fuck is a hand basket, any way? Is that like a picnic basket?) Please allow me to fill all you, my faithful readers, in on what's been going on...


I signed a buttload of papers for the bank to get my loan going through...That was about two weeks ago or so. My bank guy tells me that everything is looking fine and I'll hear from a loan processor or something within a week. He was right. The woman called, we confirmed everything, and she said, "You'll hear from us within a week." Great. I was all buckled in and ready to go for this ride. This was really going to happen. (Okay, time out...Who knew I'd be buying a house in AZ at any point in my life? Seriously, AZ was not one of my top ten US destinations...Weird.) I was excited, but scared because I know my life. I know how things work. I refused to hold my breath because I knew I'd die that way, so I waited...


Meanwhile, an appraiser finally went to the house (like a week or two later than he was supposed to) and he did his thing there. While there, luckily he noted the AC unit was missing and needed to be replaced, along with a few other minor issues...What he didn't note or make mention of, and who're we kidding--maybe he didn't notice--the missing appliances. Maybe he was blind and couldn't see the gaping holes in the kitchen where something should go. I don't know why, but he didn't. So, now Fannie Mae, the seller, is not going to put in a stove or anything. I'm not sure if I mentioned this before, but I sold our furniture. We sold the couch, the dining table, etc...We have to buy a new couch and we're getting a table from someone, but we weren't planning on buying appliances. We've found some cheap deals in the last couple of days of looking, but all my money is going to getting the fucking house! I wasn't supposed to have to buy this shit too!! Please let me tell you how livid I was when I got a text from my realtor about this. The bank guy told me that she should've spelled it out clearly in the contract and not relied on it showing in the appraisal. I guess I see both sides, but really, I'm not at fault here for this and yet I'm the one getting screwed. It's fucking bullshit!


Then my loan dude emails me yesterday and says, "We have a conditional approval. I need you to come in and sign off on some explanations." Apparently, I needed to explain why I've had three addresses in the last five years. I had to explain why Double Day Bookclub sent me to collections for $67 (I will never join a book club again! Ever. Never ever.). I also had to explain why I was late on a student loan that had been sold off my Sallie Mae. And so on and so forth. Good times, let me tell you. I mean, seriously, just say yes or no...Don't keep me dangling on a fucking string saying, "Well...We might give you the loan, but...well...we'll see what happens." YES OR NO! That's it! I asked my dude straight out, "So, it's conditional...Can they still say no?" He said, "Yes. If you're asking how sure I am about this, well, I'd say like 70% sure you'll get it. I say that because I've never had to explain anything on a credit report before like this." Nice. Have I mentioned how much I love being the exception to the rule? *rolls eyes*


So, here we are, exactly two weeks from the supposed closing and they are just now going to start the repairs at the house and we still don't know if I get the loan. I want to pull my fucking hair out. On most days, I'm about to snap...Like you look at me wrong and there's a good chance I'm going to ghetto on your ass. I am so over this. Plus, we're staying with Phoenix's mom, which is fine, but it's not my mom...or my house...and I'm not comfortable being here. It's not "home". I appreciate that she's letting us stay here, but...well...you guys can imagine. It just sucks when it's not your place. I know it'll all be worth it in the end, but it's been an uphill battle, in the snow, while naked, and people are throwing snowballs at me...lol That's a pretty picture one of my co-workers likes to paint on a rough day at work. I'm just not sure it's all supposed to be this difficult.


Also, I'm not sure I mentioned this because I haven't blogged in so long, but I bought a truck. I bought a 1970 Ford F250 from my friend's husband. He was nice enough to bring it to me, all the way from CA. He gave me all the paperwork I should've needed and went to the MVD (Apparently, here they call it the Motor Vehicle Department or some shit like that instead of DMV.) to get it registered. Luckily, I got to talk to a woman there who I worked with at Walmart so she was cool with me, but she laid it out like this...The pink slip I had was the original pink slip and showed there was a loan on it with BofA...from 1970. Since it showed this, they couldn't let me register it in my name. Without the current pink slip, showing that it was owned outright by someone, I would have to send certified letters to the old man my friend's husband got the truck from, his wife who was listed on it, and BofA, making sure everyone was cool with me having the truck and that there was no lien on it or anything like that. *rolls eyes* Are you fucking kidding me? The loan was from 1970!! Who takes 40 years to pay off a truck??? Who even gives out 40 year car loans??? WTF? So, now, I mailed the pink to my friend's hubby and he's going to register it in CA and then send me the stuff so I can register it out here...Seriously...Everything has to be done the hard way. Everything...