Dear Realtor-Bitch,
Sorry that I can’t use your name, but I don’t know it. I only know that you took someone to see my house, or looked at it yourself, and then wrote my realtor a nasty note about my house.
That is more than enough for me to know, although I would like to see that note and if I do then I will certainly include a copy with the cc of this letter that I will be sending to your supervisor, as well as the head of the branch you work for and the president of that company. Unlike you, I will be cordial as I can in my writing.
As a realtor, you ought to know better than anyone that a house, especially a first house, represents many kinds of dreams for an individual. You also ought to know that after they live there, that house is now permanently etched into them inside. That they carry tens of thousands of memories of that house and anything that happened in it. And without ever meeting me, or asking about the improvements being made, or even took a good look around at the 1.25 acres surrounding it, with the creek and the grapevine and barn wired with electricity, at the trees that will be lush in spring and summer and brilliant with color in the fall, you took pen to paper and wrote a poisonous, insulting summary of what YOU think of it, and you actually sent it. You hoped that the owner of this home would read those words or hear of them, and feel ashamed and hurt.
What is wrong with you that not only would you set out to deliberately be cruel, but that you would do it in a manner involving your profession? If I was as cruel as you are, I could get your license taken away easily. I am bipolar and I will tell them that your letter sent me over the edge and I tried to kill myself over it. Bipolar always wins in court, and you know it.
Or do you? Did you know at all that a single white girl and her dog lived in that house alone, twelve hours away from her parents and any kind of family? That she had so many dreams for it, but they turned out to be bigger than her, and she had to go. That she knew every imperfection but appreciated the good. I bet you also didn’t know that because the house is old and solidly built, that my gas and electric bills were sometimes half what my friends’, in their "newer, NICER homes" were. You didn’t look at the hardwood floors or appreciate the old cast iron hooks on the backs of the doors. You just never once stopped to think that a human being LIVED here, who worked hard and had terrific friends, and who LOVED this house, and only wants someone else to love it. No, it was more important to you to wrinkle your nose, and find every flaw, and then gleefully throw it at someone. I’m wondering the flaws you found. Is it the new linoleum on the floors that aren’t wood? Is it the new sink and fixture, or fresh paint? Maybe it bothers you I had the basement walls newly resealed, or that the rotted trim was about to be replaced and all the trim given a nice white coat of paint.
When you mock someone’s HOME, when you fire off distasteful, rude letters to them, you are insulting someone’s dream and someone’s memories. You are insulting their selection, insulting what THEY like (because guess what, Ms. Bitchy Boots, not everyone is like you, a frozen, plastic, curdled with meanness piece of plastic), what THEY want and believe in. Maybe you could insult my clothes, while you’re at it, or the car I drive and where I went to school! I’m sure if you looked long and hard enough you could find manymanymanymany flaws about me. Call my recent ex-boyfriend, he’ll help you. He’s got a nice long list. In fact, you two should totally hook up - he said I should just let the Fire Department pay me $500 to control burn the house and start over. Wouldn’t you two get along GREAT? And he wants Botox, so I’m sure he’ll appreciate yours.
Well, I now see that I am being as mean as you but the difference, honey, is that you ASKED for it. I never did a single damn thing to you and nobody even made you go look at my house. Stay away from it, or I’ll curse it to fall on you.
I still am so shocked that people really are as bad as they say, that you would write such a thing and take joy in it. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, and the realty world ought to be ashamed of YOU. You are the one with the ugly, ripped, worn-down problems, not my house. Deal with what is making you so awful and leave my property alone.
Sincerely,
name, owner of ADDRESS, in Durham, North Carolina.
Friend of lawyers and deviants.
Monday, February 26, 2007
House
Remember in a Charlie Brown Christmas, where Lucy is complaining she never gets what she wants..she just gets toys and clothes and books, and Charlie Brown asks her, what DO you want? "Real estate".
I emailed my realtor/friend earlier to let her know that the improvements I'm having done to my house are nearly done, and to please email me pictures because I am excited to see it. I also asked if we should lower the price. She emailed me back and said that might be a good idea, that people are trying to make way-low offers and she tells them no. She said one realtor - a REALTOR, in a professional position - wrote her a very nasty note about my house, and that it upset her. I can't believe anybody, especially in a position like that, would do that. Why are people so mean? I told her she should have called me, that we could talk about it and I would've made her feel better. I hate she got that.
I want to see the note, although it probably isn't a good idea. I'm already crying so hard I can barely see the monitor from the shocking sting of it all.
I know my house isn't new or fancy. It's small and old, but it's cozy, and it's solid. My energy bills are so low! Everything works great and I just spent $2,000 fixing anything that didn't look good. New sink, fresh paint, new linoleum on the floors that aren't wood. Fix up the bathtub, seal the basement walls, and repair and paint all the trim outside. A pressure wash and lots more. What could she find to be so nasty about? And the land is so beautiful, and so peaceful. Even if you don't like the house, how can you feel bad at all with all those trees and the grapevines and the hammock I put up.
Things like this just dredge up that insecurity in me, that I always am impulsive and don't think things through, and I can't do anything that matters right. I should have never bought a house in the first place!! I just wish someone would love it like I do. A nice retired couple with dogs who like to garden, or a young couple with a baby.
I used to work in land development, and trust me, land is being eaten up in the Raleigh-Durham area. It's more slow coming to Durham but still, it's hard to find 1.25 acres of land - much less a house - for the price I am asking. I was asking $84,900 but I dropped it today to $79,000. I need to at least break even, but I wish I could make some money off it too, to pay off debt.
Anyway. I know I shouldn't let this hurt my feelings but I am so sick of prejudiceness, and people being so rude and ugly when there is just no cause. You don't like the house? Fine! But you don't have to write nasty letters to me and my realtor.
Sometimes I just wish I wasn't so different, that I didn't have such eclectic taste that makes everyone go, "It's.... nice."
I miss my dog and my mama and my daddy and I hate it when I cry, why do I let everything make me cry?
If I ever get ahold of that note or that realtor's name, I will very professionally report her to her company, along with a copy. She needs to learn that being cruel is not a virtue.
I emailed my realtor/friend earlier to let her know that the improvements I'm having done to my house are nearly done, and to please email me pictures because I am excited to see it. I also asked if we should lower the price. She emailed me back and said that might be a good idea, that people are trying to make way-low offers and she tells them no. She said one realtor - a REALTOR, in a professional position - wrote her a very nasty note about my house, and that it upset her. I can't believe anybody, especially in a position like that, would do that. Why are people so mean? I told her she should have called me, that we could talk about it and I would've made her feel better. I hate she got that.
I want to see the note, although it probably isn't a good idea. I'm already crying so hard I can barely see the monitor from the shocking sting of it all.
I know my house isn't new or fancy. It's small and old, but it's cozy, and it's solid. My energy bills are so low! Everything works great and I just spent $2,000 fixing anything that didn't look good. New sink, fresh paint, new linoleum on the floors that aren't wood. Fix up the bathtub, seal the basement walls, and repair and paint all the trim outside. A pressure wash and lots more. What could she find to be so nasty about? And the land is so beautiful, and so peaceful. Even if you don't like the house, how can you feel bad at all with all those trees and the grapevines and the hammock I put up.
Things like this just dredge up that insecurity in me, that I always am impulsive and don't think things through, and I can't do anything that matters right. I should have never bought a house in the first place!! I just wish someone would love it like I do. A nice retired couple with dogs who like to garden, or a young couple with a baby.
I used to work in land development, and trust me, land is being eaten up in the Raleigh-Durham area. It's more slow coming to Durham but still, it's hard to find 1.25 acres of land - much less a house - for the price I am asking. I was asking $84,900 but I dropped it today to $79,000. I need to at least break even, but I wish I could make some money off it too, to pay off debt.
Anyway. I know I shouldn't let this hurt my feelings but I am so sick of prejudiceness, and people being so rude and ugly when there is just no cause. You don't like the house? Fine! But you don't have to write nasty letters to me and my realtor.
Sometimes I just wish I wasn't so different, that I didn't have such eclectic taste that makes everyone go, "It's.... nice."
I miss my dog and my mama and my daddy and I hate it when I cry, why do I let everything make me cry?
If I ever get ahold of that note or that realtor's name, I will very professionally report her to her company, along with a copy. She needs to learn that being cruel is not a virtue.
Monday, February 19, 2007
It's been awhile since I've had a roommate..
It's great to be standing in the bedroom, naked, drying your hair and wondering why it is so BRIGHT in the room and then look up to see that someone opened the curtains earlier and life is strolling happily by while you try to achieve smooth bangs.
File Under When I'm President
I love to order things online. I hate crowds and sometimes I don't even want to interact with humans, to the point I won't even go out for take-out because it means having to TALK to someone. Other times I feel chatty. But for those times I don't, oh how I love the internet and being able to order pizza online without having to speak to someone is more than worth the risk of someone stealing my debit card number and spending all sixty five of my dollars.
If I could teach the dog to sign the card slip and bring the box in, then life would be just about perfect.
Actually, if I just had my dog WITH me it'd be perfect. But that's another blog.
If I could teach the dog to sign the card slip and bring the box in, then life would be just about perfect.
Actually, if I just had my dog WITH me it'd be perfect. But that's another blog.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
New illness
Has anyone documented the astounding sickness of blog-performance anxiety? Because all day long I think of delightful things to write, and then I get on here and it's... uhhh... oh God, be funny! Be smart! PULL the readers in!
Maybe I oughta post that picture of a deer I took earlier, standing on our front porch at the neighbor's door.
We are hoping that it's really a hit-deer, hired to disentegrate and eat our bitchy neighbor.
The GOOD news is that my cousin and I, together, consumed an entire half-gallon of chocolate soy milk in a day. I am fairly certain we got our soy levels in for the week. Unfortunately that was the only relatively healthy thing in the fridge, though there are still some carrots. That chocolate soy is some good shit.
I've been pissy and out of sorts the past few days. I keep reminding myself that exercise!!makes!!me!!feel!!better!! but then lying on the couch reading is pretty fun, too. It's a daily battle. But yeah. I just don't FIT here. I like it, and the people are nice, and living with Moriah is totally kick-ass. Boulder just isn't the town for me, long term. I was invited to join a role-playing game circle that is starting, but I feel I must decline.
Basically I've been feeling sorry for myself and writing whiny emails and now I'm writing whiny blogs. And I'm going to whine that my thighs reallyreallyreally hurt now after walking 27 miles today or however far it was.
Maybe I oughta post that picture of a deer I took earlier, standing on our front porch at the neighbor's door.
We are hoping that it's really a hit-deer, hired to disentegrate and eat our bitchy neighbor.
The GOOD news is that my cousin and I, together, consumed an entire half-gallon of chocolate soy milk in a day. I am fairly certain we got our soy levels in for the week. Unfortunately that was the only relatively healthy thing in the fridge, though there are still some carrots. That chocolate soy is some good shit.
I've been pissy and out of sorts the past few days. I keep reminding myself that exercise!!makes!!me!!feel!!better!! but then lying on the couch reading is pretty fun, too. It's a daily battle. But yeah. I just don't FIT here. I like it, and the people are nice, and living with Moriah is totally kick-ass. Boulder just isn't the town for me, long term. I was invited to join a role-playing game circle that is starting, but I feel I must decline.
Basically I've been feeling sorry for myself and writing whiny emails and now I'm writing whiny blogs. And I'm going to whine that my thighs reallyreallyreally hurt now after walking 27 miles today or however far it was.
Saturday, February 17, 2007
When I grow up, I want to be a writer
But why?
Reasons I want to be a writer:
1. I can work at home
2. I get to do something I like
3. I could potentially earn a terrific living, and therefore pay off all my parents' debt so they don't have to work and move us all to the mountains.
4. I want to go on book tours and hear people say they liked reading my stuff
5. I can work in my pajamas
6. It's a good way to get back at all the people who've wronged you; a simple little sentence or two BASED on something that MIGHT have happened with them.... any similar occurances are coincidental...
7. I might get to meet authors I like
8. Did I mention I can work anywhere? Like, even on the beach?
9. I want to be famous
Um. That's about all I can come up with right now, but I think it's enough. Now I just have to actually FINISH something. I have no excuses anymore! I sit on my butt in a Boulder home, eating pizza and listening to the iPod (I want an iPod!!), reading and talking or going for a walk. I've had vacation, now it's time for me to get some self-discipline.
Reasons I want to be a writer:
1. I can work at home
2. I get to do something I like
3. I could potentially earn a terrific living, and therefore pay off all my parents' debt so they don't have to work and move us all to the mountains.
4. I want to go on book tours and hear people say they liked reading my stuff
5. I can work in my pajamas
6. It's a good way to get back at all the people who've wronged you; a simple little sentence or two BASED on something that MIGHT have happened with them.... any similar occurances are coincidental...
7. I might get to meet authors I like
8. Did I mention I can work anywhere? Like, even on the beach?
9. I want to be famous
Um. That's about all I can come up with right now, but I think it's enough. Now I just have to actually FINISH something. I have no excuses anymore! I sit on my butt in a Boulder home, eating pizza and listening to the iPod (I want an iPod!!), reading and talking or going for a walk. I've had vacation, now it's time for me to get some self-discipline.
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