Thursday, December 8, 2011

another martha's a big girl story.

I'm about to tell you another martha-teresa-big-girl story. you know, the ones where i attempt to assert myself on the universe Adam is either epically embarrased by whatever it isi have done or completely oblivious. This time it is the former and not the latter.

we went to meet with a mortgage broker yesterday. i was scared. let me rephrase, i was overly optimistic prior to hearing her go "i think the best i can do for you is $$$", which truly might as well have been $5 because it sure wasn't the cool million i was thinking it would be in my head. anyways, i had created a magical delusion in my head by which school loans would be in some other mythical category than other debt. i had tricked myself into believing they would see "attorney-at-law" and allow us to have up to what we thought we could afford rather than what THEY think we can afford. hah. my jedi mind tricks don't work on mortgage brokers.

She politely told us something about the magic debt-to-income ratio for a mortgage and i really should not have picked up the credit report because the combination of the two and the uncomfortable chair created a magic portal into the twilight zone, where Adam's credit score ended up higher than mine. anyone who knows us knows that only ONE of us is a planner, is meticulous about HER credit, and pays all bills in advance just to make sure that there is absolutely no bad things on HER credit report. Where the hell was the Chesire Cat, because clearly we were down the rabbit hole here.
and there it was, not only did adam have better credit than me (by like 20 points on one out of three reports, not that i'm counting), but my dream of instantly moving into a colassal alaskan home with southern exposure, scenic mountain views, a sauna, wood paneling and moose that roam freely between the master house and the adjoining smaller in-law/parent house dissapated. Well, figuring that out sent me from quietly in shock to creeping toward hell hath no fury like the women in my family.  I could have sworn i thought about escaping, but when i came back to i was sitting in front of a very kind lady who surely did not deserve my surliness.

apparently adam thought about kicking me, when i said "are you serious" in that tone that means, "screw you." I managed to get it back together eventually, but there's an important lesson here for future forays to funders: keep m&ms nearby in case of emergency.
you see, sometimes my heart just feels too full--like a dementor attack--hence the chocolate. as the nice showed adam all the cardboard boxes under bridges we could get for the $$$, i had a flashback to a conversation with Heidi over the weekend, where i found myself repeatedly saying that this growing up thing REALLY is for the birds (in words that can't be repeated on this blog). The realities of adulthood snuck up on me this week---friends and acquaintances losing children, concern for parental well-being, the attempt to buy a house, etc. At the same time, there is such joy too.  New babies, watching pee-wee hockey and laughing for half an hour, the unconditional love of a pet, stolen glances with spouses, the creation of dreams, new marriages, and love letters from far away.

for a moment i felt like Q, needing speed to slow down. and then it was over. we stood, shook hands, smiled politely, and walked out into the snow on the hunt for the perfect cardboard box--with me mulling over my bad behavior, equally confused between what happened to me and how adam turned into the planner about this house thing.

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