Girls Camp

Chrissa returned from girls camp this past week. Alive, all limbs still attached, no axe buried in her leg. I call it a success.

Those who know me know that I'm borderline anti-camp. I like to camp. I like to take my kids camping. But, I'm not too thrilled with the whole boys/girls/scout camp idea.

I remember when I went to scout camp. Black bears in our camp ground-- literally walking past our tent each night-- was common. I remember coming home with hundreds of mosquito bites. I remember having to eat ants as part of my "wilderness survival" merit badge. I remember sleeping in a snow cave with Jeremy Toner who, being exceptionally tall for his age, ended up rolling on top of me in his sleeping bag when the cave collapsed on us in the middle of the night. I remember picking leaches off of me from a few minutes in the camp swimming pool.

Can you see Chrissa doing any of these? Luckily, they had cabins this time... with bats.

Chrissa's camping list included the following 2 items: a pocket knive and a compass. I asked why, and was told by my teenager that "we might need to make a fire with flint and steel, dad, and we might get lost. Don't you care about my safety?" Melodrama at its best.

While this rebuttal was rife with irony (Chrissa's first question with the compass was, "How do you work this thing?"), I had to hold my tongue (though my family will tell you that I didn't do a good job of it). Proof of my bewilderment with this camping list was set when Michelle asked me in Target as we were searching for Chrissa's camping gear, "Where do we buy the flint?"

I did try to teach Chrissa that instead of flint and steel, why not bring some matches or a lighter? Might as well make it easy for ya. Flint and steel died out with powdered wigs. And, a compass is no good without a map, and even with a map, you need to be an expert (or close to it) to use the compass. "Remember, Chrissa, you didn't know your way home from the bus stop, and it was just at the end of the block."

I know-- its all fun and part of the experience. Yet, there is one thing that is missing in all of this. Wilderness survival-- the whole flint and steel thing-- compass and maps-- why not spend that time teaching the kids how NOT to get lost in the first place? Scare them with bear sightings. Have an adult wander out in the woods at night from time to time and make grunting noises. Fake a snake bite. Keeping the kids corralled in one spot would keep parents from having to find a compass and flint-- and it would save the leaders from having to teach them how to use these rather outdated survival methods (and embarrassing themselves when they can't get them to work, either).

If you want wilderness survival courses, watch a few episodes of "Man vs. Wild".

On The Road Again

Two days ago, our migration out of our townhome began. Thank heavens-- 75% of our crap is still boxed up from our move from Idaho. And, those things we unboxed since our move from Idaho will be happy to know that their boxes are still in our garage, ready to be reused. We do not have to go begging grocery stores for boxes or spending untold sums of money on new ones.

Our timing is going to be interesting. We are scheduled to close on our house (barring any hiccups) on July 30th. This is also the day we are moving our furniture out of the townhome and into the house. We absolutely cannot have anything in our townhome past July 31st, or the blonde wench from hell will boil over and explode (see previous blogs for further explanation on this person). Realizing that it would take a miracle from heaven to get all of our things moved over in one day (which, it turns out, is a working day for most people-- I'm taking the day off), we decided to get a storage unit to help ease the impending suffering that comes from too much to do, and too little time to do it. It's going to be a real squeaker.

So the storage unit is acting as our buffer right now. To date, I have ran two huge pickup truck loads of boxed junk to it. All of this came from our little garage. I haven't seen this much room in the garage since the day I got to PA-- in fact, a person can nearly turn around in place now. Probably 2 more loads to clean out the garage, and another 2 from the home. Our plan is to have the nonessential stuff out of the way so that, come July 31st, we can move over the essential stuff and not be wasting precious time moving things that we've learned to live without these past 7 months.

Which brings me to an interesting point-- why do we even HAVE all of this stuff if we really haven't needed it for over 7 months? If I *accidentally* forgot to tie them into the truck on their voyage to the storage unit, would anyone really notice? Its kind of sad, if you think about it. My parents and I, on our way across the country when I move here, had a lot of conversation on the poor pioneer people who could only take what they could fit into their broken down wagon or handcart-- and here I am requiring 4 or 5 pickup truck loads, a separate storage unit that acts as a interim dumping yard, and a full day of a rented moving van to ensure all of my stuff gets move one lousy mile (literally).

Realtors are Vampires-- Become One in 5 Easy Steps

If you are a realtor, don't read this.

I can't quite think of any other profession that is paid to do what they do-- and I'm honestly not sure what they do other than open the door to homes for people who want in.

They are doormen (or doorwomen), really. Glorified doormen. They use their magic decoder key to unlock the little lockbox that hangs on the doorknob, and for that, you pay them a 6% commission. Whoop-dee-doo.

Take our's in Idaho Falls. We hired the top realtor in eastern Idaho, but in the 275 days its been on the market, we've had zero offers. I know that part of it is not his fault-- he can't make someone like our house. Yet, when I ask them what marketing ideas they use, their response is always the same-- "We actively market your house… blah blah blah."

Translation: we take a few photos, post a few facts, and that's about it.

Oh, they do make a few phone calls to other realtors or potential buyers-- big deal. They drive around in their BMWs and sit in their swanky offices and talk a lot of real estate mumbo-jumbo, but this is all a dog and pony show. They are in the business of selling homes as quickly as possible and they don't care much if it is your's or someone else's. If you don't believe me, just wait until you are on both sides of the realtor coin and you'll see what I mean.

When you are the seller, you are told things like, "We sell more homes in the Idaho Falls area than anyone else… we have a proven track record of successfully selling homes in your price range…your home will become one of our 'featured' listings…" Lots of smoke, lots of hype. Feeling empowered, you sign the contract.

When you are the buyer, you are told this: "Don't like it? On to the next house!" So much for the "active marketing" idea.

As the buyer, you also get to be treated like a stupid celebrity. Our realtor in PA (whom we like, mind you) tells us, as we walk into the kitchen, "This is the kitchen." I was tempted on more than one occasion to say, "Nah! Really? They put cabinets and sinks in kitchens these days?" But before I could, we were moved to the garage, where she then said, "This is the garage…"

Being new to this game, I was expecting our realtor to be an encyclopedia of real estate wisdom, capable of noticing anything about the home that might scare someone away, full of knowledge that would make my home a gleaming jewel in a sea of houses on the market, clients in hand that are clawing at the chance to see my house. In reality, they don't know any more than I do. They guess, they assume, they make general predictions. I could do that just as easy using a magic 8 ball.

I have gotten used to the response from my question: "What can we do to entice a buyer?" Their answer has always been: "Lower the price." Nothing else apparently can be done. This is the advice I get for a mere 6% commission.

Oh, I have tried to debate with them. I say, "Certainly, people do not buy things based on price alone. If price was the only deciding factor in buying a car, we'd all be driving mopeds." No use-- it falls on deaf ears. In the end, the price gets lowered because there is no other advice given.

So, if you are ever interested in becoming a realtor, learn the following steps:

1. If you can't impress them with brilliance, baffled them with bull*&!#;
2. Get your magic decoder ring to open doors for people… they'll be impressed with your powers;
3. Drive around in a BMW and buy a Blackberry or iPhone to improve your image;
4. Impress buyers by stating the obvious when you are in a home, such as "We are now standing in the bathroom", and make surprised comments like, "Wow-- this has a pantry! I didn't know that!"-- even if said pantry happens to be a closet; and,
5. walk around with both a frustrated look on your face and a "Sold" sign on or near you, both of which will make you appear busy and successful.

Most importantly, learn to like blood, because you'll be sucking the sellers dry in the end.

Coming to Idaho

My trip to Idaho came and went in the blink of an eye. I was there for 4 days, but it was over with faster than anticipated

It all started off badly... I left work very late, getting to the Pitt airport with only 10 minutes to spare. I flew to Denver and arrived 45 minutes late due to weather (by the way, it was the worst ride I've ever had-- felt like I was on the Rockin-Roller Coaster a Disney World). Flights were delayed and canceled in Denver, so my plane was about an hour and a half late in leaving for Idaho Falls.

Anyway, I had a great time there. I went over to check on the house (my sentimentality nearly choked me), got the sprinklers lined out, ate a few strawberries we had planted last year but were not around long enough to reap the harvest. We went to Yellowstone and Jackson, got to see the Bar J Wranglers (always a good show), caught up with some neighbor friends, etc.

Just fun to be back home for a few days. Felt like it had been forever since I'd last been there, but at the same time, it felt like I never left.

Sadly, I also met with our realtors. There has been no progress, of course. Very little activity in the housing market there. We are competing with 110 homes in IF in that price range-- I didn't even realize there were that many houses for sale in IF!

It was a gray spot in an otherwise good weekend.

The following Tuesday, I took the SLC Airport Shuttle from IF to SLC (4 hours), met Chrissa at the airport (she was visiting family), flew to Chicago, then flew into Pitt. Long travel day.

Homecoming

We are (almost) the proud owners of the property located at 133 Hazelwood, Cranberry Township. See photo below (and try to keep your lunch down while you look at it).

Give the crisis that settled upon us last week, we frantically tried to find suitable living quarters for the family before we were thrown out on our heads by the blonde wench from hell (see prior blog entry for further explanation). So, we gave our realtor 2 whole days to find something, and this is what came of our efforts.

Oddly, while our home in Idaho has sat on the market for nearly 300 days, some homes we were looking at that weekend were listed AND sold in the same day.

Funny thing is this: the home is in the neighborhood that we were not crazy about when we first moved here, built by a contractor that we swore we'd never buy from, and looks like a home we had driven past previously while trying not to barf in the car. And, we swore we'd never buy an integral garage, too. Given that this will be our second mortgage, we were lucky to qualify for this.

We're not sure what color of orange it is... I'm not sure it is in the rainbow. We thought that the painters had some bad Mexican lunch, yakked in the paint, and decided to go ahead with their job. It's hideous.

But, it is a good size, and for beggars like us, we couldn't be too choosy. Its far better than the box we had lined up to move into.

So, supposedly, we will be able to move in on the 30th. First order of business: paint.

We are excited, though. We'll be able to go through our boxes finally and find all those little things we have had to do without since we moved to PA. The dune buggy-- I'll have to drive it over to the house in the early morning hours. I dont have a trailer, and the thing is not road-legal. So, neighbors, if you hear a buzzing sound flying by around 3AM, think nothing of it.

About-Face(book)

A couple weeks ago, I called Michelle from work to ask a favor. I needed to get the email and phone number from a "friend" I had on Facebook. I'm an occasional user, but Michelle doesn’t use it at all, so I went about the nearly impossible task of providing her instructions on how to use it from memory-- over the telephone. It never works.

Back up a bit here… you need some background. Many moons ago, in my younger years (probably sophomore year in college), I went out on one date with this girl from Burley, my hometown. It was in the summer, I was between semesters, etc. No big deal.

Recently, as we've been bashing our brains into the wall trying to find out some new and improved way to sell our house, my sister told me about this realtor in Idaho Falls that had great advice for her. Turns out, she's the same girl that I took on that date so many years ago. My sister had talked with her, and she remembers me, but I don’t remember much of her.

Anyway, she was the person I was trying to find an email and phone number to. The purpose was to contact her to get her advice on tips to sell my home. She had relayed some great ideas to my sis, and told her to have me call her about similar ideas, too.

So, after explaining via telephone to Michelle to opening Facebook up, I tell Michelle that there is a box on the main page, upper right hand corner (this turned out to be a critical piece of information, as you will soon find out) where you can type in a friend's name and it will pull up their profile which will contain their contact information. I spell the girl's name to her, she types it in and pushes "enter".

Michelle: "Nothing happened."
Cade: "What do you mean?"
Michelle: "I mean, I typed it in and pushed enter, and nothing happened."
Cade: "You typed it into the box-- the box in the upper right hand corner of the screen?"
Michelle: "Yes… Wait. No. It’s the box in the middle of the screen."

I about died…

Facebook has this text box-- kinda the "instant messenger" of Facebook-- where you type in whatever is on your mind. Users know that by typing stuff into this box, all your "friends" can see what you are thinking about at that moment. Totally worthless other than for its social aspect. However, users see a "what's on your mind" question next to their name, which reminds them to type something in-- something that they are thinking about at the moment, click "enter", and have it posted to all their friends. Thus, friends know what is on your mind.

This is where Michelle typed the name of this realtor.

So, for several dreadful moments, the entire friendship circle of mine on Facebook-- something near 100 friends-- could have seen what was on my mind thanks to Michelle's slip of the fingers: the name of this girl.

Of course, in realizing the error, I had to try to explain to Michelle-- over the phone again-- how to erase the mistake, which did not work. Partly because she is not into Facebook and cannot find her way around, partly because we both were laughing too hard to talk.

I went to work on my Blackberry, trying to access Facebook to see if I could delete it. That didn't work. I called my sister in Idaho Falls to see if she could erase it. That didn't work.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, Michelle found the delete key, and away the message went. I think it took close to 10 minutes, Michelle says it was more like 5. Nevertheless, potentially dozens of my Facebook friends could have assumed that the thought on my mind for those minutes was another girl.

And, the realtor probably saw it, too… she never did email/call me back after I tried to later contact her.

New Perspective on the Housing Crisis

A couple months ago, our lease at our townhome came due. We had been in it for 6 months, and the leasing company wanted to know if we were staying or going.

A lease of 6 months is more expensive than a lease for 1 year, but we felt we would be out of the townhome and into a regular home by then, so we took the risk.

Instead, our house in Idaho still sits, empty and cold. So, we were faced with a dilemma-- sign another 6 month lease and pay the higher amount again, sign a one year lease (but risk not being able to move out if/when our house in Idaho sells), or move out and take our chances elsewhere.

Its been clearly stated, both to friends and family (and on a few occasions to the leasing company themselves) that we do not like this place. Great neighbors, horrible/evil management.

Anyway, I decided to take Option #4: try to negotiate a smaller monthly rent on a 6 month lease. Justification: our original 6 month lease plus another 6 month lease = 1 year of rent, which has always been on time. We've never been a problem. All I asked for was a $50 discount per month, even though the difference between the 6 and 12 month lease was more like $200.

Their response was quick: no negotiations. Pay up, or move out.

But, I persisted. I told them our situation, and said that we did not want to sign another lease, but would rather lease month to month and again take the risk that our costs would be higher than normal. They, of course, wanted us to sign a lease, but never said a month to month arrangement was not possible. I told them they could count on us moving out earlier than the 6 month term.

So, in the mail from the leasing company came a June month lease agreement. We paid, as usual.

On June 30th, at 4:30PM (notice this is the last day of the month??), I get a phone message: "Cade, when are you turning in your keys??" Huh? I emailed back wondering what they were talking about, and they said that my statement "count on us moving out" was taken as an OFFICIAL move out notice, and ordered us to vacate the home immediately.

Ironically, Michelle had sent them our July rent money, which was cashed and deposited, yet they never questioned it-- "Hmm... Cade and Michelle are supposed to be moving out, but perhaps they are sending us another month's rent just because we are such wonderful people."

I came home from work early to go to the office to try to work out this miscommunication. To complicate things, I learned that they went so far as to rent out our place to another tenent without so much as a phone call, letter, email, personal visit, or anything to actually make sure that we were moving out. Nothing.

So, as I visited the property manager (who is known around these parts as the blonde wench from hell), I tried to work it out. Her response: "No. You said you were moving out, we rented it out, you need to get out." Eventually, I talked her down a bit and she agreed to ask the new renters to take one of the other 25 or so VACANT places in the area, which they agreed to do.

So, problem solved, right? Nope. The blonde wench from hell proceeded to point to the fine print in our leasing contract that says if we do not move out by the date we stated, we had to pay a penalty equal to another month's rent. I tried talking her out of this, saying it was an unintentional miscommunication, the new renters are in another place, we need to stay and would even sign another lease, they would be able to keep a clean and trustworthy tenent-- everyone's happy. But, I said if they enforced the penalty, we'd move.

Their decision: enforce the penalty. I gave our notice to leave at that point.

The blonde wench from hell then had the gall to actually ask me to leave as soon as we could so she could get the place rented out to someone else. I asked if I could get a prorated rent, especially since they already cashed the check, and a discount on the stupid penalty, and she said, "No". So I said we'd move out on July 31st, and I would deliver them their keys at 4:30PM-- just as much time/notice as they gave us. She responded by saying that it would really help them out if we'd leave earlier. I said, "Sorry, as you clearly indicated, we don't negotiate. I paid for the full month, and I'll be damned sure that we use it."

I have never experienced a company try so hard to get rid of us. And, we are at a loss for an explanation. We got yelled at for keeping our garbage can out. We got in trouble for keeping one of the kid's toys out on the back yard. I complained a bit when we didn't get grass planted out back when we were promised.

So, on July 1st, we were told we had to leave by July 31st. We had no places lined up to move into, no idea this was coming, nothing.

We have spent the last 2 full days looking at homes. With our home in Idaho still for sale, it is nearly impossible to get a loan for another house. We did get one-- a small one-- and are right now negotiating on the ugliest house in Pennsylvania. So far, we have not come to an agreement. But, one thing is sure-- we have to be out in the next 3 weeks, and we have no idea where to go.