big girl update--confusion.

we didn't want to look confused. i really hate looking confused unless i'm doing it on purpose to be obnoxious. i have enough letters behind my name now that i should always look smart and competent. smart and competent and have killer shoes. killer shoes and confused lead to bad things (think barbie).

so there we were, standing in this townhouse, snow pouring down, walking from room to room turning on lights while christina our agent followed us turning them off. we'd wander around again with this lights on lights off game, moving in no coherent pattern, aimlessly moving through the two stories to decide if perhaps this was home. which led us back to the kitchen area, next to the doggy door, which i can already tell you neah will be afraid of, and to our confused looks.

so, we understand normal sales and we understand foreclosures, but what on earth is a short sale and why does it take so long? clearly i think there should be ominous music that accompanies those two words--ominous music that sounds an awful lot like britney spears' toxic for reasons i can't explain. anyways,  i could hear christina explaining, through the imaginary din of britney's singing, that it was called a short sale because essentially the seller has to make up the shortfall between what we offer and what they owe the bank in order to prevent foreclosure and credit demise. so we offer, the seller agrees and then the we send it to the bank--the two/four of us supplicating at the threshold of power brokerness. and we wait.

wait, huh, i think. i am pacing, counting the number of footsteps from the bathroom to the kitchen. clearly i still have the confused look, or maybe now it is just the attention span of a 5 year old look, because i derail the conversation to discuss painting the cabinets a fun color. adam turns back to christina with his list of questions about timeline and process. i pace back out to the stairs, contemplating area rugs and whether "Count Clockula" (my grandfather clock that Court so lovingly named as it lived in its coffin for a year) would be able to find a home in this place. i'm cautiously optimistic. maybe just cautious.

that was last thursday. saturday was spent wandering around furniture outlets--discount, too fancy for anchorage, and amish ones--in search of a whole host of things we don't need. although, i am pretty sure i need a blue washer and dryer. today the package went to the negotiator at the bank with the seller's signatures and ours scrawled across enough pages to give me carpal tunnel syndrome...

and now we wait on what could be the longest closing in the history of buying a house. if you have an in with property-gods, i would appreciate a sacrificial chocolate chip cookie or something being offered up on our behalf.