Sunday, April 04, 2004


Maybe I was in a hurry, and my judgement was not as good as I would of liked it to be. Yesterday, I brought my father and J. to see the house. Both of them liked many of the things I liked, but both of them saw the same things that were a problem with the house. These were things that I didn't see as I was blinded by the wonderful things I saw with the interior, the kitchen, the special fixtures, the yard, and the love and care that went into the renovation of the house.

There arguments basically boiled down to two things:
1. The house was too old.
2. The house would be too hard to maintain.

I also had spoken with my manager, who in a past life had built houses himself. I asked him some questions about the foundation and the structure of the house, especially the strange wall in the basement. From the floor up to about my shoulders the basement had extremely thick concrete walls, which were at least 1 1/2 feet in thickness. After this point, the house appeared to be raised by cinderblocks for another 3-4 feet. I found out later that the house had actually been a farm house with a cellar and at one point the owners raised the house to create a basement. He asked me to check the joists to see how they were fastened to the cinderblocks. When I checked the house this second time I could not see what he was talking about. Also, I found that the garage was actually a shed built around 1911. The structure of the garage itself was not sound and there was no electricity going to the garage.

I feel a little foolish, perhaps because in my family and the environment I work in at work. You are not supposed to take risks if they are obviously bad. You loose face if you make such risks. It's better to be paranoid. At work you're supposed to be paranoid and efficient at the same time. Maybe this is not such a comfortable thing for a girl who found it a little traumatic to play 'Perfection' (the game where you had to fit some 16? puzzle pieces into their appropriate place before the buzzer went off after what seemed to be 15 seconds).

Why do I berate and chide myself for making bad decisions. Maybe it wasn't a bad decision, because after all, I didn't actually finalize it. I brought two people to see the house whose opinions I trusted. I wanted to benefit from their experience and knowledge and determine whether the risk I was about to take in purchasing this house was worth it.

I also think that yesterday and the day before I was feeling slightly pressured to buy the house because that stupid bitch of a listing agent was dangling the possibilty that the house had other offers in line. This was Friday and I told my realtor that I was not about to play any ridiculous bidding games. My offer was as it stood. If she and or the owners were going to engage in any games. I would withdraw my offer right away, as I don't do business with... finks.

Ah, this is far more complicated that I could have ever imagined, but I'm learning.


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