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blahandwhatever · 9 days ago

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Consumer Reports

1. Thankfully we're back to fairly normal conditions, but the inability to have any real outdoorsy time for a while had me a little restless. In the meantime, I tried to visit every possible store and place of business for some walking-around opportunities. Among other things, I checked out Tony's Fresh Market around the corner for the very first time. There's a lot of stores I've never been to, really, but I have such a large network of them already that there isn't much reason to add another grocery store to the mix unless it has a specific draw.

And well, ever since I came back from Italy, I've been on the lookout for places beyond Garden Fresh Market that have good selections of Italian stuff - particularly cookies/pastries, a part of Italian cuisine that doesn't tend to get much fanfare but I think is great, and was a big part of my childhood that indelibly shaped my tastes, and to this day the good packaged brands of this stuff (Balconi, Balocco, Mulino Bianco) are by far my #1 sweet treat to have with coffee.

I recently visited Angelo Caputo's in Mount Prospect for the first time too, excited by the find of an Italian grocery store in the area. It was, however, a disappointment. Most products in the store were just regular-ass American products - then there were a bunch of other foreign products. I didn't find much in the way of Italian goods that I can't find at other, more general-purpose stores with international selections. And it's like, why? Who goes to an 'Italian grocery store' for the same products they can get at countless regular grocery stores? What a missed opportunity to provide a single place in a sea of suburbs that actually specializes in Italian products.

To some extent, this goes for a lot of these types of stores. Why not capitalize on the international foods selling point more. I know this isn't the place I'm coming for my regular American groceries. When I walk into the chip aisle at Garden Fresh Market, I'm hoping to see an interesting selection of foreign chips, but it's mostly just a bunch of regular-ass American chips. Which is what I mostly eat, but it's not what I'm here for.

Tony's had more foreign chips than I've seen elsewhere, though it still wasn't a whole lot. I feel like it was a little better than Angelo Caputo's in the Italian cookies department too.

Still, no one anywhere (except, apparently, some online stores for high prices) carries Mulino Bianco's crostatine, which has always been a mystery because they're a classic and grocery store staple in Italy, along with that brand in general, which is sparsely present here. These were what I long considered the pastry love of my life, and I was very excited to find them in Rome after not having them for about 20 years, but ! I have to say they were not 100% as I remembered them - and I don't know how much of that is me changing and how much might be something about the recipe changing (worth nothing that, for the very brief time I had them in the US in my teens, they tasted exactly as I'd remembered them from my childhood)? In any case, they're still good - the cocoa ones work especially well dipped in coffee - and I'd still like to be able to buy them once in a while, but it's good to know they aren't necessarily better than the other Italian treats I've had ready access to all these years.

2. Another sweet thing I've been on the lookout for since I came back is something resembling the world's most perfect - light and airy and little chocolate chip-covered - cornetti that they had for breakfast at my hotel. I've searched stores, I've searched bakeries. I know I won't find anything quite like that here. America mostly has croissants, which are similar but not the same. And ones with chocolate chips all over instead of a filling in the middle are a rarity - actually not a big thing in either country, I just happened to get lucky.

So far the closest thing I've found is these little chocolate-drizzled croissants they had at Woodman's. Which actually tasted terrible out of the box. But then I tried heating them up in the oven for a few minutes, and it changed Everything?? Not just the texture, but somehow the previously over-the-top-sweet-and-chocolatey flavor seemed to get rebalanced too. And it's like, oh, okay, these guys knew what they were doing with these when they baked them! But maybe they never tasted what they're like after sitting in the store for a while...

(Update: Apparently they sell different brands of these. This only pertained to one brand. The other one tasted decent both out of the box and heated up, but not amazing either way.)

Anyway, I am now on a journey of heating up croissants in the oven to see which ones come out best. Surprisingly, Tous les Jours croissants did not work as well for me here as the storebought ones. They are too much of a proper croissant, buttery and heavy in a way that just isn't what I'm looking for here.

3. Thought I'd step up my pasta game with some of the top-rated pasta sauce available to us Americans, some authentic, not pre-grated Parmigiano Reggiano, and some salmon. But. The salmon pasta I had in Rome was still worlds better. I have no idea what they put in the stuff, but it was so fucking interesting and good. (Maybe I should try some pasta from Italian restaurants around here?)

4. Don't worry, I am not suddenly a big carb and junk food eater (again). However. You gotta live a little.

Also, I have been allowing myself a little more in the way of sweet treats with coffee - one of my favorite bits of junkiness - as something of a compromise in my quest for a delicious yet not terribly unhealthy coffee experience.

For years, this compromise (I thought) was my beloved hazelnut CoffeeMate creamer. It was the most satisfactory alternative I had found to the coffee with milk and loads of sugar I used to drink. Maybe it wasn't the healthiest thing, but I figured cutting down sugar was a win.

However. A while back, I took a good hard look at this habit and realized I'd been fooling myself about the amount of sugar I was consuming here. Because, after all, there were only 5 grams of sugar per serving. But closer inspection revealed that the 'serving size' was, in fact, insane, and the amount I was using was like, six times that - twice a day.

And so it was, once again, with great dismay that I abandoned my favorite way of drinking coffee. And I searched for alternatives. And I didn't find any lower-sugar creamers I liked, and I didn't want the sugar-free ones with artificial sweeteners.

And I tried switching back to coffee with milk, which, with no sugar, was a little boring but okay. I even got a milk frother to upgrade to cappuccino sometimes. But I had to be careful to limit the milk given my troubles with calcium and vitamin D.

I set out to explore some non-dairy milks and kept running into two problems. One, most of them were fortified with calcium and vitamin D - sometimes containing more than regular milk. Two, all of them sucked ass.

Special shoutout to oat milk, which the internet told me was the most similar to dairy milk. It was in no way similar to dairy milk. It made my coffee taste like dry oats. but wet. And I say this as an enjoyer of oatmeal.

For the time being, I have given up and settled on the stark experience of black coffee, with a little milk here and there. But as a reward. I get a little treat more often than before. And I mean, 60 grams of excess sugar in exchange for 5-15 is a good deal, body. I hope you're happy.

(My coffee change was also followed by major - excessive, really - weight loss, so I had a good window for eating extra stuff in general for a while as I worked to gain some of that back.)

5. The time also came again for my periodic search for Herr's Carolina Reaper Cheese Curls - as always, they disappeared quickly from the last place I found them, and I didn't bother to search again for a long time. This time I found them at Dollar Tree and was pleased to find they came in smaller bags. However!! They did not taste the same!!! They were harder and much less flavorful for some reason, like an inferior off-brand knockoff sold under.. the same brand. Don't know if it's a Dollar Tree issue or what, but the search must go on (next time I'm in the mood).

6. Man, Mariano's really fell out of my rotation ever since I adopted Woodman's as a favorite store. Thought I had room in my life for all of them, but in practice, when I can get 99% of what I want and need from my other stores, I hardly ever feel compelled to go there anymore. Still, it does have a handful of unique offerings and is a different experience, so it's worth remembering to stop by at least once in a while.

7. Didn't have any taste-testing studies for a while, then suddenly I qualified for four last week. Tasted granola, aioli with chicken nuggets, shit-ass fried chicken, and cheddar jalapeno cheese puffs.

I suppose it was opportune in that it was another place to go while I couldn't go outside too much, but it kinda fucked with the flow of my week. I optimistically scheduled all of these studies for early enough in the day that it would work well to go have some outdoorsy time straight afterward. And well, that mostly didn't work out, so mostly it just made the first part of my day more rushed and didn't let me sleep in as much as I might have liked. And it imposed a sameyness on the structure of most of my days that I didn't care for, and made the week go by too fast. Just reinforced that I do need my variety after all. Having the same kinds of outings - or lack thereof - every day is not rewarding.

8. Got a $44 deposit in my bank account from a Clif Bar class action settlement, lol. That makes the second random unexpected deposit I got last month and my second-ever class action settlement payout - the first one being a physical check in the mail for like. $3.

9. It's been a few years since I did any real summer clothes shopping, with 2023 being broke AF and 2024 being better but still very paycheck-to-paycheck until later in the year. So that's been another recent activity, and as always, there is so much that I'd like, but I still have to pace myself month to month, and I hope I am making solid choices. And I'm already a bit tired of the inevitable returns and exchanges, but I gotta do what I gotta do.

10. Sometimes I wonder if I'm getting too old to shop at stores like Urban Outfitters, but then I always find some treasures that are still very wearable for me. The only thing is, some of their stuff can have slightly sloppy construction, so I'm finding myself doing exchanges in hopes of getting items without annoying defects. Even more annoying is that I have to order my exchanges online to maintain my original coupon price because they don't do even exchanges in-store, which means a longer wait and inability to inspect & pick out individual items as I thought I might be able to do with some of them.

11. Do I need every possible type of black T-shirt conceivable to mankind? ...Maybe.

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blahandwhatever · 13 days ago

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ough broken tooth has me feeble and faint of heart

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blahandwhatever · 16 days ago

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ughh poor air quality fucking up perfectly good weather

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blahandwhatever · 21 days ago

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ohhh I'm walking it all off, sleeping it all off, working it all off, chilling it all off

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blahandwhatever · 22 days ago

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girl they didn't put BEEF in my Bibibop bowl

not the first time they've made a mistake, but this one was egregious enough to have to drive back and get it fixed. I gotta get in the habit of checking my orders right when I pick them up.

also they downgraded their gochujang sauce so bad this year. apparently the case of the missing gochujang sauce from a while back was not a local issue but a nationwide supply chain thing. they ended up getting a new supplier. now all their sauces taste wrong to me, and nothing is spicy.

still a pretty good meal nevertheless

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blahandwhatever · 29 days ago

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brb, on a quest for enlightenment regarding whether to attend a family event for the fourth weekend in a row (with another one looming shortly thereafter). can I do this. is it that important. what is the grand-scheme-of-things cost-benefit breakdown. god I need to be free.

update: fucking did it. sucked ass. was it worth it? who knows. I did it for the young people only. I don't even know if it makes much of a difference for them, but like, symbolic gesture of I support you/have nothing against you, I guess. also a bit of a chess move with regard to not wanting my brother's upcoming event to be snubbed due to people potentially feeling snubbed by us at this one (my mother was working today, and my brother's still in college, so without me, my father would've been the only one in attendance) (the absence of both my mother and my brother made things sooooo awkward, though. and my non-rich aunt was barely there. my grandmother was home because she wasn't feeling well. so basically there was a bunch of men watching sports. and a bunch of women I didn't know who were friends with my rich aunt. and the young people hanging out with their own friends. and I just sat and had the longest conversation ever with my cousin because she was basically the only person I could talk to. and then I also just sat around awkwardly alone until it felt like an acceptable time to leave.) (also I knowww I'm just like. such a child in these people's eyes. such a naive, innocent child. who likes nature and kittycat and. computer. and read and write :) which is like. true. but also. I can't tear into the truth about our toxic family in front of any of you. I can't tell you how much your parents and grandparents suck. I can't tell you about the values and worldview I hold that clash so hard with yours. I can't be real here.) (truth be told, though, I think my mother can sometimes be seen the same way. more authentic people often have a naive and innocent vibe to those who are more jaded and dead inside. my mother isn't even like, the most authentic person, but there are so many levels to everything, and she & her family versus my father's family are like night and day. I have my issues with my mother, but being around my father and his family makes me want to run straight into mommy's arms.)

then there was a thing with my father overstepping some boundaries, as he is prone to doing, and putting me in an awkward situation I shouldn't have been put in. I sent him a slightly strongly worded text about this later, to which I got a mess of responses including 'fuck off' and 'you're just as crazy as your mother', finally devolving into blubberings of self-pity and 'I just love you and care about you so much and everything I do is because I love you and want the best for you'

and it's like, oh, right. the mess your mind has always been is still there. I hadn't interacted with it in a while, because my contact with my father had been relatively minimal the past year or so, and there hadn't been much drama.

emotionally immature people can be such a trip. one moment they're a raging asshole with no boundaries or respect for others, and a seemingly boundless arrogance, ego, sense of authority over everyone and everything. but then you call them out on their shit, and - if they don't go the route of rage or staunch defensiveness - suddenly they crumple into the scared, confused, sad little child they've always been inside.

and I can see the whole "everyone's doing their best in the way they know how :)" thing that some therapists push to a toxic degree. and I feel kind of sorry for them, for their scary and confusing inner experience, for their endless blundering through life, and the fragile fantasies they desperately cling to like life preservers. but like. they are still accountable for their actions, for their treatment of others. they are still responsible for learning how to treat people correctly. and sometimes you do gotta call them out on their shit. and sometimes, just sometimes. they do grow a bit from it.

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blahandwhatever · 1 month ago

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Eventually once I've attained my 9368th level of Deep Rest and Healing I'll power through Everything I swear

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blahandwhatever · 1 month ago

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Don't understand how, by this day and age, all major companies have not mastered packing and shipping. The number of obviously fragile items that just get carelessly thrown in a box without any type of padding or protection, and then inevitably get damaged and have to be returned! Thank you sooooo much for sending me a piece of garbage that I didn't want and I'm going to sell back to you so you can throw it in your garbage. What a beautiful journey from mutually beneficial transaction to pointless waste for all.

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blahandwhatever · 1 month ago

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The untold atrocities committed by Google Maps walking directions

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blahandwhatever · 1 month ago

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ugh being a sensitive softboy (female edition) is so stupid sometimes I will flinch or jump at some random insignificant thing and people will think I'm Scared but no, I'm not scared, just sensitive. and also maybe tired, which is making me more disoriented and randomly reactive. important distinction

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blahandwhatever · 1 month ago

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Part II

I send my landlord the pre-approval letter, and she agrees to work with me on the sale.

I try to get her to come down on the price - she listed it for $8,000 more than what she originally told me she was looking for, and I hoped she'd be willing to sell to me closer to the original price. We have some back and forth. She isn't willing to come down by much, insists she knows how much this place is worth, and gets mad at me for trying to negotiate. (She is also, I think, just sick of dealing with this sale and impatient as a result, but that is not my fault.)

She gives me the option of $500 off the listing price + $3500 seller credit or $4000 off the listing price and no seller credit. She's only willing to knock this much off because she's saving on real estate agent fees with me, so it's not exactly generosity. I take the first option because we can use whatever help we can get with the closing costs.

I've been a bit taken aback by her greed and at times ruthlessness throughout this process. Yeah, she's a landlord. But she was, for the most part, a pretty chill one, and she charged well below market value for rent. So to have her be so dogged about getting the absolute most out of this sale was unexpected.

Also her emotional volatility - so many sudden, hot-and-cold shifts in attitude toward me. People's emotional issues be coming out in times of stress.

Anyway, I call and update my lender while my landlord says she'll get to work on a purchase agreement. We try to figure out a closing date. Seller and I would both like it over with as soon as possible; mother's fine with whatever but is only available certain days each week. Lender suggests later in the month might be better for me because it means less prepaid interest - but it also means more prorated rent, which works out to a bigger loss. We settle on April 16th as a date that works for everyone.

Landlord gets knocked out for a day by some sort of injury, slightly delaying the purchase agreement, but we get it signed by the end of the week.

Have some more calls with my loan officer, which I am truly drained by at this point - along with this whole experience - as nice and helpful as he may be. I definitely sound like it on one of these calls. He needs me to sound alive, he says! I should be excited! He's excited for me!

Am I excited? Well. I am glad it's happening. But it's been so much and so stressful, and I'm so, so tired.

And I didn't really want any of this to begin with. The circumstances of this home purchase are far from ideal. And my loan terms aren't great, and my closing costs are high - inflated by being forced to buy mortgage points to lower my rate to a level that could get approved - on top of the high down payment, and I feel guilty for the burden on my mother, and I'm not entirely happy with the price I got from the seller, or much of my experience with her.

And then there's the fact that there's still more work and uncertainty ahead. Because nothing is certain before closing.

So. I have mixed feelings, and I don't want to jump to conclusions, and I'm tired.

But he did work very hard and go out of his way to make this loan happen for me. So I probably should sound at least a little happier when I talk to him.

I get my loan estimate document, breaking down all the closing costs, which are even higher than the estimates I got over the phone previously.

My landlord says I'll need an attorney for closing and offers to get me one from the same law office as hers for a discounted price. I agree. I talk to the attorney, who explains what he'll be doing for me.

Next, it's time for the appraisal. I'm nervous - much as I didn't think this place was worth as much as my landlord thought, I sure hope the appraiser thinks otherwise - but it goes smoothly; the place gets appraised at the sale price. Apparently when my parents sold the Oak Lawn condo, it got appraised for far less than they asked for (and the buyer was willing to pay). It's possible they had unrealistic expectations for how much value their extensive remodeling added to the home. That amount is actually pretty modest because, at the end of the day, it has to be priced in the same general range as other homes of similar sizes, with similar features, in the area. And that's also why my place is worth much more than my mother thought (it's an expensive neighborhood!).

I read the appraisal report with great interest. Much as I argued this very thing with my landlord, I am slightly indignant at the condition of the place being described as 'average'. But some of its good qualities are also recognized.

Soon, my loan transitions into the hands of a closing processor, who calls to go over my file with me and request some things. There seems to be some confusion around my situation and loan structure. My loan officer could sometimes be a little sloppy with things on paper. I try to clarify things for the closing processor; he says he'll have to do some reworking of my file and get back to me.

For the better part of a week, I don't hear anything. I embrace finally having a break from it all.

Eventually I call and check in. Apparently my file is back with the loan officer. I call the loan officer, say I heard he's working on correcting some things in my file. He says no, there's nothing to correct. He just hadn't really explained to me how the loan was structured in order to make it work - leading to confusion and miscommunication with the closing processor.

Okay, well. First of all, I don't like the lack of transparency. Second, I'm not entirely comfortable with what I'm learning here. Third, I should have known all this before I ever talked to the closing processor, so I knew what to expect and what to say. Now what?

Now just tell the closing processor it's all good the next time I talk to him, there was just some misunderstanding and miscommunication. This feels very awkward.

He also tells me some things I should expect the closing processor to ask me for - a couple of which I am confused about and probably cannot provide? I am increasingly uncomfortable.

We have some back and forth in which he reassures me it's all fine.

I'm not feeling very good about this, but do I want this loan?? Yeah.

For now, my mother and I fuck off on vacation. In the meantime, my attorney sends HOA forms to fill out, and my closing processor sends a long list of things he needs from us. Whatever. Jesus take the wheel.

Then I get a new closing processor, who sends a much lighter, more encouraging email asking us for just a couple of simple things. Huh!

After our trip, I send them what they asked for. My mother is sick of submitting documents and dealing with this loan.

I know! But we're in the home stretch!! And we had a break from the paperwork for a while.

The closing processor calls to discuss my file. He asks for more things, including the things I was concerned about.

I call my trusty - despite occasional frustrations caused - loan officer for counsel a couple more times, hemming and hawing, conveying much nervousness and discomfort, failing to be very comforted by what he tells me and feeling cornered.

He says I'm making him feel like shit! I'm making him feel like the worst person in the world!

Oh boy! Another one's emotional issues coming out. (Echoes of "Oh, so I'm the worst mother in the world"...)

He's clearly the type of person who gets really invested in getting certain reactions out of people and extremely demoralized by the 'wrong' reactions. And sometimes wrongly makes that the other person's problem.

Like, I did not accuse you of anything, man. I have the right to my own feelings about my own situation.

He says I'm making him feel like he's forcing me into a situation that I'm uncomfortable with.

And I do feel that way, but I don't blame it on him, specifically.

Anyway, he talks to his boss, and they give me clearance to not submit the thing I was most concerned about. Now I just hope the closing processor gets on the same page.

The closing processor gets on the same page. My mother and I get him other things he asked for.

Next, I have to pay off a State of Illinois tax lien. That's fair, I guess, but it's a big extra expense I wasn't ready for.

I call the lien unit and learn the only way to get a payment processed and lien removed quickly is to pay in person with a cashier's check or money order.

I check the closest location, half an hour away; it closes at 5. I wonder if I can make it today.

Maintenance man comes around 3:30 to fix my leaky faucet. I hope it's a quick job but ultimately have him leave and come back the next day because I want to try and make it to the tax office.

Can't do a cashier's check with my online bank, so money order it is. I get three of them from the post office because they only go up to $1,000.

Get to the tax office around 4:50, find they stop letting people in at 4:45.

The next day, I try again and succeed - but the payment doesn't get posted to my account as quickly as it was supposed to, and I won't be able to get the lien removed until Monday.

Meanwhile, I get my closing disclosure. The numbers are even higher than on the loan estimate. I have a tense conversation with my mother.

I also have to do a conference call with Equifax Mortgage Solutions about a few debts on my credit report, which mostly consists of me sitting in silence and giving my blessing while the Equifax representative and a representative of the company I have the debts with have a lengthy back and forth about the status of my accounts.

My faucet gets fixed, and my fireplace gets cleaned - final favors from the landlord.

It's the weekend, and then it's closing week - if things go according to plan.

Monday, I get the lien removed.

The lender needs to order condo documents, and I have to pay $300 plus $125 for expedited delivery to ensure they get there by closing. I wonder if this couldn't have been taken care of earlier.

They need more documents from my mother.

She is fed up and says these are the last documents she is submitting. She doesn't understand why so much is needed from her and feels like she's doing all the work.

And I mean. I have gone through 90% of this loan process on my own and tried to keep her involvement minimal. But they do need some documents from her that they don't from me, partly because she's the one with an existing mortgage, and partly because she's the one with the closing funds. The fact that some of these funds were initially in a retirement account also complicates things; now they need multiple forms of proof of the transfer of funds to her checking account, which is honestly a pain in the ass.

Seller is checking in daily about where we are at - with me and my closing processor. Every day, he makes it sound like he's just waiting for one or two more documents from us and we'll be set to close. One of those days, it's a document he didn't even ask me for. Seller nags me about whether we've submitted the document. We submit the document. We get asked for another document.

Closing is supposed to be on the 16th; seller and I are doubtful it will happen on time - which, to be fair, I warned her about due to the delay from our vacation.

Closing processor thinks he still might be able to make it happen; tells me he'll let me know where things are at by Wednesday afternoon.

Wednesday, we wait. We get asked for more documents. I learn my closing processor is just starting to work on my mother's employment verification and is running into some trouble.

This is clearly not happening today.

My mother's company got acquired by another company in February, changing its name. She explained this to my loan officer back in February, but apparently it was not noted. I explain it to the closing processor now, carefully spelling out and repeating the before-and-after company names he should be looking for.

Don't hear back for the rest of the day.

At this point, we have to reschedule closing for the 21st because it's my mother's next weekday off - and the seller really wants this done before the 22nd because she's going out of town then.

Thursday, the closing processor calls me, still confused about my mother's job. Apparently, he just now tried searching up information about the company acquisition and got further confused because one of the names in the news release he saw didn't match up.

It was a news release from several years ago, about the company that now got acquired acquiring another company. Look, man. Google both of the names I told you, at the same time. Look at the first search result, from February!

I get him the HR number for my mother's work, and he gets back to work investigating her employment. She has a simple, stable, conventional job. It's actually kind of crazy how many more facets there are to her employment verification versus my weird freelance thing.

He also asks for the rest of a retirement statement my mother submitted only the first page of back in February. She is fed up and refuses to send anything. They should have asked for this a long time ago if they needed it? Why is it even relevant at this point? (I'm sure it's a legal technicality to have a complete file, but still.)

I write him a slightly strongly worded email on my mother's behalf and, increasingly, also my own. I hear nothing.

Friday, I am angry. I wait for answers, updates, replies, and I get none. I'm not waiting until closing day again to find out whether or not we are having closing on closing day. I worry a little about my slightly strongly worded email and how it might have been taken, but mostly, I feel the guy is due for some real fire. I prepare rants and rebukes in my head.

In the evening, I finally call - very nervous, on account of the diatribes I feel I must unleash - to check in.

Oh, we're good, we'll be able to close on Monday.

Are you... sure??

Yes!

Oh. Ok. :)

...But we are going to need the rest of that statement from your mom.

He is also wondering what he can do to verify my 'employment'. (How is this only coming up now.) We agree to have me send him contact info and contracts for a few of my freelance jobs.

He is still working on my mother's employment verification. He says it's one of the most complicated employment verifications he has ever had to do. His current hurdle is being bounced back and forth between different HR numbers that each tell him to call the other.

Over the weekend, I visit my mother and help her take care of the statement she's been resisting sending. Also teach her to just download the statement to her computer and attach it to her email, because man, she has been printing and scanning all of these documents.

Monday. They are just wrapping up some things and will tell me when we're good to go.

Oh, and can they get a more recent pay stub from my mother reflecting the company name change?

Motherfucker!

My mother is not home; she is in this area, visiting a friend, waiting to see if we have the goddamn closing. Besides, her paychecks do not reflect the name change. There's a whole nesting doll of names, including the name of the specific hospital she works at that's been owned by the two companies, and different names are used on different things. She sends a screenshot of a deposit in her bank account.

It's fine.

We get clearance to close shortly before 3 PM, and the seller urges us to squeeze in an appointment that day.

We get an updated closing cost number, which is quite a bit less than the last one.

We let the lawyers schedule an appointment, and we get to the title company at 3:45. No one is there.

We wait a while. I text the seller. The seller's lawyer calls me and gives me the title officer's number. I call the title officer. She went out to eat and will be back soon.

She takes a while.

My mother is skeptical of everything as always. What kind of title company is this. Is this legit.

It's a normal title company. Many locations throughout Chicagoland. Chosen by the seller, as is always the case. Also, the seller is a real estate agent who deals with this stuff a lot.

Is anyone else joining us? No. The seller pre-signed her documents. Our attorney will be joining us remotely because he's based in Chicago and doesn't travel out to locations in the suburbs. My mother is suspicious. What kind of lawyer is this? I reassure her again.

Eventually the title officer arrives. However, the title office has not received the lender package yet.

We wait. And we wait.

My mother gets fed up and threatens to leave. She hates everything about this.

I call my attorney. He says we can go through some other documents while we wait for the lender's documents.

We wait some more. The title officer and I have both made multiple phone calls to my closing processor and been unable to get through.

I call my loan officer. He says he'll check what's going on.

Title officer gets through to the closing processor. They're trying to submit the documents but having technical issues.

My mother does much judging and complaining. She's never seen anything like this. Everything about this loan process is wrong. But I'm inexperienced! And this is the lender I chose!

Ok. First of all, I didn't have any fucking choice of lenders. I chose the one that would give me a chance, while still being a legitimate company with good reviews. Second. Half the things she thinks are wrong are normal and fine things she just personally doesn't like. Then there's bits and pieces of bad luck and human incompetence that you can find almost anywhere.

Title officer says she had a similar experience once. Hers was even worse because she didn't already live in the place - she had a moving truck waiting outside for her planned move-in the same day.

Loan officer calls and updates me, says we should get documents within 15 minutes.

That's about as long as we can afford to wait, because the title company closes soon.

We don't get the documents within 15 minutes. We have to leave and reschedule for Thursday, the next day my mother has off.

Title company finally receives the documents shortly after we leave.

We get another closing cost update. I expected maybe $90 less with the new closing date, but it's almost $1000. Seems the lender gave us a credit. Maybe they felt bad?

So at least we got that benefit out of the mess. And now our closing costs are actually somewhat in the realm of reason.

Thursday. We go through and sign lots of documents.

It goes fine, but there is still a fair bit of waiting as the documents are submitted to the lender for review.

My mother is very impatient, complaining of hunger. Threatens to leave at one point because she's starving. (Did anyone stop you from eating beforehand..? Did you not think it reasonable to block out a 1-2 hour time period for this?)

I mean like. Jesus Christ. We are at the end here. This is it.

I know she is helping me immensely and this has been a burden for her, but she can also be a petulant child.

And she has been so overwhelmingly negative and miserable throughout this closing process that, when she eventually asks me if I'm excited, it's like. Are you kidding me?

Just as it was with the loan officer, I am glad this is happening, but I am not feeling very good.

The lender finds a few issues with my mother's signatures/dates and sends me one more document to sign.

We finish up. We go out to eat. The loan is funded.

The seller congratulates me, says she's happy I'm the one who got the place. (That's cool, but you didn't seem to care much when I begged you to wait and work with me. Could have saved us both a lot of hassle and stress if you had been more patient/cooperative to begin with.)

I had hoped the conclusion of this hard-fought battle would be more exciting, but it feels pretty anticlimactic.

With a few days of solitude to recenter me, though, the happiness starts flowing in - less excitement, more peace and love, which is what it was really about all along.

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blahandwhatever · 2 months ago

Text

Welcome to my two-month prison sentence

Part I

Tuesday, February 18th, I have a dentist appointment and a good day. It's a very cold week, and I have a bunch of coziness and productivity planned at home. All is well until my landlord texts me out of the blue in the evening to tell me that she and her husband are separating and she is probably going to have to sell the place because he wants his half of the money.

Cue disbelief. Cue stages of grief.

Innie-life-hijacked-by-outie type feelings. She can't just steal my body home!

She says she'll try talking to her husband about it again the next day and let me know for sure. She doesn't want to sell but might be forced to.

I cry, I panic. I'm not ready, I'm not ready. I'm not done with this place. I'm not done with my journey here.

Then I think.. what if. What if I bought the place?

Is this a Crazy thought? Is this Insane?

My credit is abysmal, and I have no savings. I am completely unprepared for this situation.

But. I know my mother has long had some savings to help me with a down payment and stuff when I'm ready to buy a place. And she's always wanted me to own rather than renting.

The next day, the landlord calls me and confirms she has to sell - so I will have to move out. I'm like, wait! Maybe I could try and see if I could buy the place myself? She seems skeptical but says okay. Tells me the kind of price she's looking for. She's in a hurry, though, and is confident she can get a buyer fast. I ask her if she can just work with me, let me see if I can make this happen. She's willing to give me a few days to see if I can get a loan pre-approval before she lists the place.

I talk to my mother. She has more money than I expected - enough for a 10% down payment and probably closing costs. She's willing to help but wonders if I should be making such a rushed decision. Maybe I should wait and look for a different/better place? If anything, I could move back to Naperville for a while and take my time looking?

There is no better place for me!!!! Not in this price range, not in this area, and especially not now, when moving is the last thing I want to do. And it's the furthest thing from a rash decision when it's such a sure thing! I'm already living here! I already know I'm happy here! I was already planning to keep living here until I'm ready both emotionally and financially for a real upgrade.

I research bad credit loans, find some online lenders I might have a chance with. I apply with New American Funding, which, according to NerdWallet, offers FHA loans for credit scores as low as 500.

They call me; I explain my situation. The guy is very nice and helpful. Based on a soft credit check, he thinks I should be able to qualify for an FHA loan. However, income is also a factor, and for me as a freelancer, that's based on my last two years of tax returns. And that income doesn't end up being quite enough. I ask if a cosigner would help with that. They probably would.

Guiltily, I inquire about further assistance from my mother. She is, thankfully, happy to cosign, albeit skeptical about my online lender she's never heard of. I assure her of their trustworthiness.

My mother is busy, works long shifts. They have to call her to get her info and permission to check her credit. I am anxious for things to proceed.

They get in touch, things look good on my mother's end, and hopes are high - but I have to wait over the weekend for the pre-approval. I feel impatient but confident. Victory will be mine!!!

Meanwhile, my landlord gets a bit impatient, lists the place for sale, and gets a lot of interest. She wants to schedule a showing. Even if I get the pre-approval, she doesn't want to 'leave money on the table' and wants to see what kinds of offers she gets - and wants to give others a 'fair chance' at the place she would kick me out of because of her marriage problems. I don't agree with her idea of fair.

I am resistant. I plead. This is my home. I think I deserve more mercy, having been her tenant for five years, having received such short notice about this sale. I'm trying to do what I can so we can both get what we want.

She has a court date with her husband on Tuesday. She'll talk to me after that.

In the meantime, I have developed a good old case of Sick from the Stress and get some much-needed rest over the weekend.

Monday, I hear back from the lender. Turns out I don't qualify for a loan after all, not even with a cosigner, because my credit is too bad - and we each have to meet their minimum credit requirement. Apparently the soft credit check had shown them my highest score, out of the three bureaus, and once they ran the hard credit check, they found the other two were significantly lower.

Feel misled by NerdWallet, as my scores are well above 500. But apparently this place actually requires 580, as is typical for FHA loans.

If I had a few months' notice about this sale, I might have paid off some debts and maybe improved my credit a bit. As it is, I'm stuck trying to work - perhaps hopelessly - with what I have.

I feel desperate. My mother tells me not to get desperate. I am desperate. She sends me a listing of another place in my neighborhood at a similar price, reassures me I'll find something else if this doesn't work out. It's a superficially nice, freshly remodeled place in a complex I don't like (I looked at a unit there once) - plus no in-unit laundry and no view.

I look around at other listings. No, no, no.

My mother thinks I'm just attached to this place and overly sentimental about it. I think, first of all, I'm allowed to be exactly as sentimental as I am. And second, it isn't just that. I knew this was the perfect place for me from the first time I saw it. I spent more than six months searching for a rental in my price range in a good neighborhood, and being endlessly disappointed. Not only were most places ripoffs in terms of what you got for the price, but places that felt like home to me were also few and far between. And yeah, that feeling is important to me. This complex was the first place I found that felt that way, and though the first unit I saw wasn't worth getting, in the end, I came back around and got this one. And I got so lucky with this place, in so many ways.

She doesn't really get it. She has different tastes and standards than me. She cares about features I don't, and judges places much more by how new/remodeled they are. She sees a lot more flaws with my place than I do.

I feel protective. Don't judge my beautiful home. Besides, you really can't argue or rationalize away what speaks to someone's soul. And that's what it's really about. A home is a place to be sentimental about, is a place to have a relationship with, is a deeply personal thing. At least it is for many of us.

I look into other lenders I might have a chance with, submit a few applications. Realize I should have applied with a few to begin with instead of just wasting days on the one.

Just for kicks, I do an online chat with an agent from Rocket Mortgage - a highly recommended lender in general, if not for bad credit specifically. I lay out the situation, the cosigner, the down payment. My credit score is, once again, the nail in the coffin. Not possible.

Tuesday, LoanDepot calls me about my application. I explain everything. The man is very skeptical about my chances and a little meanies to me. Sir I am sweating and shaking please.

At this point, I'm feeling ready to accept defeat. It probably was ridiculous to think I could get a home loan...

I decide to call one last lender, one I applied with but didn't hear back from.

Again, I explain everything, including my previous rejections. The guy is a little puzzled by those, given my mother's excellent credit. They do things a little differently here. He's very confident they can get me a loan.

Hallelujah!

They will need documents, though, from me and my mother. She is, again, busy and will need a couple of days.

Meanwhile, this whole situation gives me a reality check about my financial instability and need to work harder - at working, at applying for new jobs. At fixing my damn credit.

My landlord contacts me again and presses me about a showing. Tells me I will get 120 days' notice to move out - which is helpful, in the worst-case scenario. There is also the possibility of an investor buying the place who could keep renting it to me.

We schedule a showing for Thursday. In the meantime, I am pressured to catch up on the cleaning I'd neglected in these turbulent times.

My mother and I get the lender our documents. Thursday, they say everything's looking good, and I should have my pre-approval Friday.

Meanwhile, my landlord comes to do the showing. I am stressed and depleted. I reiterate that I wish she was willing to just wait and work with me.

I leave. I intend to go for a walk around the lake but mostly just sit in the car, tired.

I walk around the complex a bit, look at the buildings, consider: Worst-case scenario, chances are, in the next four months, other units will go on sale? Maybe I could get one of those? Then at least I could still stay somewhat at home.

Friday, the lender calls with unexpected news. They hit a snag in the pre-approval process because, while they were willing to work with me, mortgage insurance was not - my credit was too low to qualify. So the only way forward would be to put 20% down instead of 10% to avoid the need for mortgage insurance.

I talk to my mother. The only way she could put down that kind of money is by taking it out of her retirement account. That feels like too much. I begin to accept likely defeat again.

I ask my father if he might have anything to contribute. He tells me to give him a few days to see.

Meanwhile, my landlord quickly gets offers on the place and wants to make a decision this weekend.

She has interest from a couple of investors who want to rent out the place. But by the end of the weekend, they retract their offers, and she ends up with a buyer who wants to live here.

So that's it, it seems. I do more grieving, alternating with resolve to enjoy my remaining time here as much as possible. I prewrite my goodbyes to this place in my head. I want to go nowhere and do nothing - just be home, home, home. I think about how attached and emotional I get, compared to so many people I've seen move so many times and take it in stride. I want everything to be forever.

Of course, the element of choice makes a difference, too. Choosing to leave, or at least knowing upfront how brief your stay will be, is different than suddenly getting kicked out unexpectedly. And I've already been torn away from so many homes in my life. I thought I was done having other people make that choice for me.

I remember my other selves, wonder if I should tap into them more - versions of me that are cooler, tougher, lighter, less emotional. As much as my core self, and all of its emotional weight, matters, I'm at a point in my life where it no longer tends to predominate so much. Maybe that should apply here, too.

Slowly, my mindset shifts toward how to make the best of the situation. Again, I think the next best thing is getting another unit in this complex. Of course, if I can't get a loan to buy this place, I can't get a loan to buy another place, either - at least not right now. But having four months gives me time to figure something out. Maybe I could spend the first month or two working on my credit and see if I can get it above the threshold for the mortgage insurance.

I start to daydream about the possibilities. What if I got a two-bedroom unit. Then I could at least get an upgrade out of this. (Too bad all the courtyard-facing two-bedrooms are off to the side, though, and partly facing parking lots too. Either that or they don't have the trees/privacy factor that my unit does. But I guess I can make do.)

Landlord says she knows someone renting another unit in this complex who might need a new tenant. Don't know what kind of unit - there's a lot of crappy ones - but it's another possibility.

The buyer needs to come do an inspection. Again I have to clean things up; again I have to leave. I'm tired of people coming here. I'm tired of it all.

The following weekend, I wake up to a voicemail from the landlord. The buyer backed out. Supposedly part of the reason was the leaky bathtub faucet identified as part of the inspection - something I'd long put off asking my landlord to fix because it didn't bother me that much. They were an older couple and didn't want to deal with any issues, I guess. Another part of the reason was worrying that I wouldn't move out when I was supposed to.

She says if I'm still interested, she might be willing to be more patient this time.

I say yes, but I'll need a few days to talk to family and get this figured out.

Later the same day, she texts me like, never mind, I regret leaving that message - I'm not waiting anymore. Pre-approval should take one day! I heard back from one of the investors who was interested and he wants to buy the place and keep renting to you.

Okayyyy fine.

He wants to raise the rent by $400/month.

I don't want to leave, so, oh well.

She'll try to talk him down a little.

The next day she texts me, frustrated, saying now this guy backed out because he was worried I would move out rather than keep renting at the higher price.

At this point, I am so over the emotional ups and downs of this journey. Clearly, anything can change at any time. I simply will not conclude anything until closing.

Now the landlord needs to schedule another showing. But she'll give me until Wednesday to see if I can finally get the pre-approval.

I check in with my father. He's got nothing. He's usually generous with money, but I think he's gambled it away and had some slow work periods.

I check in with my mother. She's had time to think about it and wants to use retirement savings to help me with this. I will owe her this money. I feel guilty but also confident in my ability to pay her back. Things are about to improve financially, and I'll keep working on that.

I call my lender and tell him we'll do the 20% down payment. We work on the paperwork for that.

Tuesday, March 18th, I get my pre-approval.

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