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Monday, June 05, 2006


I'm alive - there's just a whoooooole lot going on. Many things, mainly social contact and music lessons/practice, have been falling by the wayside as I struggle to come to grips with buying a house, starting a small business, and opening a play at the same time. Goddamnit, which god do I have to blow to get more hours in the day down here?

Buying a house is always a million times more complicated than you think. I knew this before we began the process, but that hasn't made things easier since signing the Agreement of Sale two weeks ago. Most of the current strife centers around our mortgage. Matt and I, realizing with horror that despite our two newish cars, four-plus PCs, giant television, and sundry expensive musical instruments, we are not even close to qualifying for the middle class, decided to apply for a loan through the Pennsylvania Housing Financy Agency. They offer a significantly lower interest rate to "poor" couples who earn less than $70,000 a year. What we didn't realize is that a PHFA loan requires us to jump through shiny hoops like Shetland ponies at the circus.

The first hoop was "prove that you are employed." When we initially applied for the loan, of course, we needed to give all our employment details for the last five years, and hand in current W-2 forms and tax returns and payslips. Upon approval, we were told that we also needed to have forms filled out by our employers certifying that we were employed by them, so we had to bug our bosses for those. And then, just for good measure, we each had to write letters telling the PHFA that we were employed by our employers. WTF!??! How many fucking times do I have to tell you I'm employed, you morons!!? This is when I started being openly rude to our mortgage broker, probably entirely unfairly, but someone has to pay.

We had the house inspected, as I've mentioned previously, and that seemed all well and good, until said mortgage broker informed us that we also needed a structural engineer because of some of the problems listed on the inspection report. The main problem they wish to assess is the kitchen floor, which is described in the original report thus: "No access to area under kitchen noted. Consider professional floor evaluation and repairs." If you have a brain larger than that of your average groundhog, you will realize that a structural engineer is going to say exactly the same thing, since ripping up floors is generally not a part of inspection. But nevermind that! We have to hire one anyway, to the tune of $500 or so. And if the structural engineer finds something wrong, we have to delay settlement to have it fixed.

On top of all that, our insurance company will only sell us a super-expensive policy because there isn't a railing on the front porch steps. That's right, folks, in America, land of the free, people are so sue-happy that if you are too stupid or fat to get up a set of stairs without holding onto the railing, but you attempt to do so anyway and end up hurting your worthless self in the process, you can sue the owner of the house. Apparently a bright yellow sign on the sidewalk declaring "IDIOTS NOT WELCOME" will not suffice.

Once we own the house and install a railing for all the fucktards who have no concept of their own physical and mental limitations, we can purchase a cheaper policy and have our money refunded, but still. Lame.

I had the funniest thought the other day. Matt and I have been looking at color schemes for our house, and we keep coming back to this palette. We are painting our house ETS. That's fucking scary.

On the business side of things, business plans suck. Also, banks. PSECU, for instance, needs an Operations Agreement from us just to open an account for our LLC, even though, as a partnership LLC, we don't have one. Looks like I have to make one up.

Compared to all this, getting Lear up and running has been a walk in the park. The Fool doesn't have a whole lot of lines, and after the storm, I get to hang out backstage for an hour waiting for curtain call. It's a pretty good deal. The fights are wonderfully, delightfully violent and gory. I'm going to ask Matt to get some video of the eye gouging scene so I can put it up on here. You haven't lived till you've seen an eye pop on stage.

We open on Wednesday, so come and see it. Flyer with pertinent details at the right.

I placed into Theory and Aurals III at West Chester. When I took the theory exam, I realized that I had covered most of the work in Theory III ten years ago, so I was taking a ridiculous amount of time trying to figure out how to resolve a Neapolitan sixth. I would definitely benefit from studying all of that again, so I'm pleased enough with the test result. I'd rather start with easy work than launch myself into a state of perpetual confusion at the beginning of the semester.

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