Keepin' it real estate

Hello friends! I am currently on a journey toward home ownership. This article has been written to lay out facts regarding the real estate situation currently at hand in my city of residence, Asheville, NC.

1. Let’s start with some basic background information about me, a potential real estate buyer. First and foremost, I have been poor my entire adult life. In fact, I had a revelation in my mid 20s that technically, I was poor white trash throughout my adolescence as well.

2. While this may seem disconcerting, don’t worry - I’m fine. I am actually pretty good at being poor. Consistently living like a college student for the last twenty years has allowed me to stretch my below-poverty-level income to pretty impressive standards. I’ve got some cashola saved up. Sometimes I even buy organic. Tbh, I truly think of myself as an upstanding global citizen with a keen bargaining sense and budding potential in the financial realm.

3. Problematically, my goddamn landlord won’t fix the natural disaster that sprung up underneath my rental home a little over a year ago. This snafu has encouraged my water bill to buoyantly leap into its wildest dreams - it has landed at approximately $500 per month.

4. However, I am not going to focus on that because my Brene Brown podcast inspires me to be a better person. So I will not tell you the name of my landlord or the successful company that he owns, and I will not discuss the multitude of messages that I have left for him, all of which have been ignored. Did I mention I tried to friend him on Facebook the other day so we could further discuss my issues? I’m still waiting to hear back.

5. So along comes Covid 19 and the entire world shuts down, which is a huge bummer for so many reasons that I am not here to write about. What I am here to write about is my real estate journey, and Covid 19 is where it began. See, here’s the thing: An economic disaster of global proportion is literally the only thing that could make it possible for me to afford a home in the town that I have resided in for 15 years. Being that I work for the government and was not laid off as a result of the pandemic, I realized I had an edge!

6. Please allow me to introduce you to the equation that I have formulated for this very special occasion:

*Ahem*

Global economic crisis + slumlord shirking rental duties = motivation for a Covid 19 project.
Also known as winning.

7. All this being said, I have jumped head first into the house buying market. It has been a chilling experience thus far.

At this point in time I am going to briefly sidebar into things that I have realized that I find intolerable:

a. Small white fences

WHY

WHY

WHY

Back to my original train of thought:

8. When first embarking upon this adventure, I was jubilant. I signed up for Zillow and Trulia and realestate.com. I started cruising the merchandise and found so many beautiful and outrageously priced properties! I realized I needed to fix my settings and take a more calculated approach. Once I did this, my real estate feed was filled with trailers of various shapes, sizes, and permanent states of disrepair. 

9. Who the hell is making all these trailers? 

10. Also, I feel like it is important to mention that I have come across a number of dead body sheds used as a selling point in real estate presentations. People don’t market them as such, but I know what they are. I am a goddamn professional. I listen to a murder podcast.

11. Occasionally, an actual house will pop up that is actually within my price range and isn’t straight up haunted. Typically when this happens, a bidding war develops within 17 minutes of the initial online posting and inevitably, I lose the war. I mostly lose because I don’t participate. The only thing I am willing to be super competitive about at this juncture in time is Uno. But also, I lose because I don’t have a ton of cash y’all! I get by on my charming personality. That’s all the collateral I got.

‘Tough, but cool’ is how I’d like to think 

people think of me. 

12. Rumor has it that these house buyers are all richies from New York who come down to Asheville and buy up all the pretty houses with cold, hard, cash. I don’t know if this rumor is true, but in my heart of hearts, I think it is.

13. So I am playing the waiting game. Will the housing market crash like I have predicted (using a combination of my psychic ability and a total lack of evidence)? Maybe.

14. Full disclosure: I need to tell you that I have created a beautiful pandemic garden at my current address. As a result of this effort, I am kinda into sticking around in my rental throughout the summer to reap the fruits of my lab. (lab is pronounced with a long A sound -- it is short for labor. Obv.) This makes me feel patient and at ease about finding my home when it is ready to find me.

15. Also, I believe that the universe will bring a house to me if I am really nice to people and grateful for what I have. How do you feel about that, New Yorkers?? (Also, sorry for your losses due to the pandemic.) So far I have manifested really lovely financial connections, a real estate agent whom I find delightful, and a great attitude.

At this point I am going to end my real estate presentation. In conclusion, the 15 pieces of data that I have displayed above clearly illustrate the trials and tribulations that I have been through, as well as the final positive note of confidence that is present due to purely insubstantial evidence. If you have any questions, that’s cool. I do too. We should virtually get together and put our questions in a document or something. Stay tuned for an update in the future about where I might live! I love you all!

Asking the Big Questions.

Recently I have decided to have a revival with nail polish. Historically, painting my nails has never been a huge thing for me because:

a)     It’s hard

b)    I’m lazy

c)     I’m too cheap to pay someone to do it because I can do it myself but I won’t because it’s hard

d)    It chips and that is so annoying and then people judge me for not taking it off for an additional two to six months

So that is my history but ALSO I’ve just recently realized cuticles. What the hell are they? By that I mean what the hell is their purpose? I know I could look this up on the world wide web or potentially ask anybody over the age of twelve, but I would rather just pose the question here knowing that I will never get a response. Since I have been painting my nails, they (my cuticles) are far more obvious. I either have to paint around them which looks terrible or I have to paint over them which looks terrible. I have attempted to remove them by scraping at them which is the worst. But I am not letting ANY of this hold me back.

I’m about to type something that may sound braggy but it’s not because ew - My cuticles are really strong. Are everyone’s? I really have never talked about this out loud. All I know is that whenever I eat seaweed, I visualize my hair and nails growing, prolifically, like a goddamn super power. As an aside, I said this to a date at a sushi restaurant last summer and consequently we never spoke again. But anyway, I wonder if my ocean-rich diet affects my cuticle health.

I’m just trying to step up my game people. I live in a town where you can really let yourself go if you’re not careful. Last month I decided to pay attention to how many people were randomly barefoot. I want to mention that I do not live anywhere near a beach. I counted nine in one day. NINE. I live in a city and it was a Wednesday. I realize the day of the week is probably inconsequential, but I really want y’all to have as much context as possible.

Stop putting my life in danger by forcing me to photo document your shit while sitting behind the wheel of my car.

Trying to enjoy a nice show at the wine bar but then stop it.

I didn’t photo document them all, but you get the point.

I will admit, however, that even though I am trying to counterbalance the dirty of my city with nail polish, the randomness of people does delight me. Sometimes I will just glance through my phone notes to look for a recipe or a to do list and I will find reminders that I sent to myself like these:

May 12, 2018 at 3:18PM

What is that coming out of that man’s purse. OhmygodIthinkitisananimal.

May 12, 2018 at 3:21PM

Dear god, it is a white squirrel. He has smuggled a white squirrel from some far away land and it now lives in his purse.

I am glad that I make notes to myself about these happenings, because I truly remember none of them, none of them at all. 

I had a friend in town over the summer and I wanted her to have the full Asheville experience while here – mountains, rivers, music, microbrews, and mildly uncomfortable interactions with strangers. I brought her to one of my fave places, Crow and Quill, which is an establishment decorated in dead flowers, taxidermy, and shadows. We ordered a couple of brilliantly prepared cocktails and settled in to listen to the jazz band that was performing. They were pretty good, but one couldn’t help but be distracted by the lead musician who was making a lot of really hard eye contact and blowing kisses. We thought we might leave after set break, but it was pouring to the point that the streets had been engulfed in a flash flood and we decided we should wait a little longer at the bar. We sat back down and what do you know, that lead musician came right over for a bit of conversation.

He started by reflecting on his younger days in Asheville when he lived with his girlfriend in an apartment downtown with no plumbing. (Side note: I am 100% sure that none of his story is true.) During the summer months, they (he and his girlfriend) were really lucky because they could go outside and “catch a shower” when the gutters leaked. He loved a good flood like the one we were experiencing tonight. Then, he found out my friend was visiting from Berlin, so he changed gears and started hitting on her in elusive German, full of pregnant pauses and weird catch phrases. After that, he decided it would be a good idea to bring up the topic of hovercrafts in Germany. A few minutes into the hovercraft discussion I thought it would be best to bring out my pendulum that I always carry in my purse and start swinging it before his eyes without saying anything about it. He wrapped up his conversation quickly and walked away and I turned to my friend and said, “You have to know how to out crazy a crazy person to truly be free.”

I take my ammunition of nail polish and pendulum and walk confidently in this world my friends. What makes you free?

My Judgment Blog

Guys, I’m seriously so judgmental with no right to be. When I think about myself overall, I’m usually like, “Yeah, I’m pretty chill. I’m pretty cool.” But then, THEN, I realize I’m kind of a dick.

For instance, I was in an Uber the other night and judged the shit out of my driver, Joshua. I feel so bad upon reflection. 90% of the interaction was in my head, but still.

Here is what happened:

1)    My initial impression was, “Man bun. Stop it.”

2)    Then, he started driving a way home that I wouldn’t have taken, and I thought to myself, “Wrong.”

3)    After that I verbally questioned the music he was playing. He said it was rainbow kitten vomit or some shit and I was like, “Turn it off.” (In my head).

4)    THEN my friend asked him if anyone had ever vomited in his car (the music probably inspired the question) and Joshua started yapping about some deep essential oil bullshit that keeps people from puking or that covers up the smell after the fact or what not

5)    and this prompted actual words from me which were all, “Hold up. That is literally the most Asheville shit I have ever heard. How long have you been here?” (I always sound like I am making an accusation when I ask how long someone has lived here) Joshua informed me that he had arrived approximately 9 months ago.

6)    Then I followed up with the question “Why did you come?” And he told me he was trying to make it here because he feels he has finally found his people who understand the power of crystals and herbalism and what not and

7)    I was all, “You’re the people who clog up my internet dating feed making it impossible to find someone who doesn’t live in a van by the river and I guarantee you have never seen The Never Ending Story and we have nothing in common!” (in my head).

And that’s why I am a dick. Because Joshua is actually probably a nice person who just happens to like man buns. He HAS found his people here and the thing is, I used to really like crystals too. It is possible that I was Joshua’s people for an extended period of my life. Just the other day, a colleague referred a patron to me when they were asking about the symbolism of rose quartz because he knew that I would know the answer offhand (gentle kindness especially in reference to your inner child). If we are going for full disclosure here (and we always are) I am going to admit that crystals were only a small fraction of my past. I was one of those girls who hula hoop danced at music festivals. I made my own clothing with random scraps of mildewed materials found in a garbage bag in my parents’ basement. I have attended retreats in ashrams, been to countless Buddhist meditation sessions, learned to chant with my entire mind, body, and soul, and for an entire year of my life I went to a Deeksha group in someone’s living room every Monday where people would transmit energy through the power of touch to one another. I’m not even going to get into the array of dietary cleanses, lack of showering, or peace rallying that went on over the years. Despite all of this, I find myself judging other people who care about that kind of stuff. Why?

It’s not like I am some “normal” US citizen at this juncture in life. I have just changed out my old weird for new weird. (Things I am obsessed with) I’m trying to be reflective on this type of stuff because I kind of think it is the basis for why our country is struggling so much. This lack of empathy for people who are really not that different from you – who could actually be a direct reflection of your past self if you are being honest – is what is creating an excessive divide. I’m not necessarily trying to get all deep and political here, but I also kind of am. We spend so much time hating on people who have different perspectives than us, behavior that is highlighted by our elected officials in office, that we forget to notice how much we have in common. I have been lucky enough to visit and live in lots of different places on this planet and while everything is not always perfect and some of the time life is really terrifying, I have been taken care of by strangers again and again. Trusting that people are inherently good and that things will work out has helped tremendously. I may view life through a different lens than a lot of my neighbors, but that doesn’t mean that they are bad people - and I try with all my heart not to villainize them with contempt. There are rapists and murderers and rapist-murderers out there who should totally be locked up forever, but let’s keep things in perspective here people.

I am done with my soapbox, but in conclusion: I’m trying to love the Joshuas and the conservatives and whomever else to improve my little corner of the world - wish me luck!