Thanks to Dave over at Terminal Velocity for this.
Christians praying over a golden (technically bronze) calf (technically bull).
I find this seriously baffling. Then again, in my experience many Christians have an appalling ignorance of their own sacred texts. Let's just say that that last time the people of YHWH dealt with graven images of bulls it didn't go over so well.
In other news. I've put an offer in for a house. I should hear something at some point in the next week.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
adventures in home shopping
So, I took a long lunch yesterday and visited (and re-visited) some properties with my realtor. We started out at a place I've been looking at in West Oakland. It's a cute little place in what is turning into a nice little oasis neighborhood. For those of you who aren't local, West Oakland doesn't have the best reputation and large parts of it deserve that reputation. This place was nice, though, and had the benefit of a large basement level that had been converted into an extra room and bathroom. It would make an ideal sound studio. I was wary, however, due to the extensive work that needed to be done on the roof, the kitchen, and the floors throughout. Still, all that would come out on the Seller's end if I made getting it all fixed a precondition of sale. We left, and I considered the little Queen Anne's cottage an ongoing option.
The next place was a home I'd been interested in before, but had gone off the market for a few weeks. It only a couple of blocks from MacArthur BART, which was very appealing to me. There were many things about the place that I liked: interesting floor plan, lots of built in wall cabinets, good wood floors, a fully updated kitchen, lemon and pear trees in the back, and a somewhat odd DIY covered and elevated back porch that extended a good twenty feet into the back yard. It was enclosed with plastic windows, and a small window opening to allow someone to feed laundry out to a long pulley operated clothesline. My realtor guessed that whoever had lived here was afraid to go outside, but after seeing the bathroom, I suspected that she simply couldn't get up and down the stairs. The bathroom was incredibly tiny, with no shower, bright pink bathtub and toilet, and lots of guardrails around the bathtub. The attic entrance was directly over the bathtub. It looked like at some point the bathroom had been moved from a normal sized room at some point and that a little hallway had been turned into the bathroom instead. It would have to be completely redone and an existing "Bedroom" turned into a bathroom. The home was across from a High School campus, which made it a bit noisy, but not too bad. What was a killer was the family of three pitbulls on one side of the house, and another very loud barking dog on the other side. As soon as they saw activity, the dogs began barking furiously, spurring each other to new heights of volume. The family of pitbulls settled down after about 10 minutes, but the other dog kept on furiously. That became a dealbreaker. Between having to completely redo the bathroom and the potential of non-stop barking, this home fell down on the list.
We scratched another house off the list due to complications with current tenants and possible other offers that had been made and headed down south to Fruitvale. Fruitvale had a similar reputation to West Oakland, but has been seeing significant changes over the last decade. That said, certain parts are still referred to as "Murder Row". Fortunately, the parts I was interested in were a good ten blocks from there. Crime stats for the area were reasonable, or at least reasonable for Oakland.
Thus, the third house we actually looked at was one I'd had my eye on for the last two weeks. A cute little home on 36th ave that needed an appointment in order to view. We hadn't been able to look at it the last time we checked properties, but now had the chance to check it out. It was occupied by a family of six: husband, wife, grandmother, and three kids. We quickly moved through the house, but I knew after about three seconds that there was no way in hell I could evict this family. I let my realtor know that I'd seen enough and we left, with the kids peering at us through the back fence. He let me know that they were renting, not owners. I hope that whoever buys the house buys it as a rental property. The thought that I was looking over the home with the intent to dispossess them was the most horrible feeling I've had in some time. I might as well have been wearing my top hat and greatcoat, twirling my mustache.
All this took us back to the first property I looked at a week and a half earlier. Less than half a mile from Fruitvale BART, a nice tree lined street, low crime (and extremely sturdy and pointy fence as well), no yard to have to deal with, two stories, and in pretty good shape across the board. I had been uncertain about it when I first saw it, but after seeing over a dozen properties in my price range, it's clearly the best deal available (not counting the dream victorian that was never to be mine, despite my weeping a million tears). What I didn't know then, but know now, was how easy it would be to replace the carpet upstairs with a hardwood floor and how trivial it would be to reroute the washer and dryer outlets so that they lead INTO the building instead of the back yard. Most everything else visibly wrong with the property is long term cosmetic fixes and improvements. Clean up the floor, soap and paint the walls, re-paint or stain the cabinets... nothing that I couldn't move in and to over the next several months or years.
So, I'm placing an offer with the bank.
The next place was a home I'd been interested in before, but had gone off the market for a few weeks. It only a couple of blocks from MacArthur BART, which was very appealing to me. There were many things about the place that I liked: interesting floor plan, lots of built in wall cabinets, good wood floors, a fully updated kitchen, lemon and pear trees in the back, and a somewhat odd DIY covered and elevated back porch that extended a good twenty feet into the back yard. It was enclosed with plastic windows, and a small window opening to allow someone to feed laundry out to a long pulley operated clothesline. My realtor guessed that whoever had lived here was afraid to go outside, but after seeing the bathroom, I suspected that she simply couldn't get up and down the stairs. The bathroom was incredibly tiny, with no shower, bright pink bathtub and toilet, and lots of guardrails around the bathtub. The attic entrance was directly over the bathtub. It looked like at some point the bathroom had been moved from a normal sized room at some point and that a little hallway had been turned into the bathroom instead. It would have to be completely redone and an existing "Bedroom" turned into a bathroom. The home was across from a High School campus, which made it a bit noisy, but not too bad. What was a killer was the family of three pitbulls on one side of the house, and another very loud barking dog on the other side. As soon as they saw activity, the dogs began barking furiously, spurring each other to new heights of volume. The family of pitbulls settled down after about 10 minutes, but the other dog kept on furiously. That became a dealbreaker. Between having to completely redo the bathroom and the potential of non-stop barking, this home fell down on the list.
We scratched another house off the list due to complications with current tenants and possible other offers that had been made and headed down south to Fruitvale. Fruitvale had a similar reputation to West Oakland, but has been seeing significant changes over the last decade. That said, certain parts are still referred to as "Murder Row". Fortunately, the parts I was interested in were a good ten blocks from there. Crime stats for the area were reasonable, or at least reasonable for Oakland.
Thus, the third house we actually looked at was one I'd had my eye on for the last two weeks. A cute little home on 36th ave that needed an appointment in order to view. We hadn't been able to look at it the last time we checked properties, but now had the chance to check it out. It was occupied by a family of six: husband, wife, grandmother, and three kids. We quickly moved through the house, but I knew after about three seconds that there was no way in hell I could evict this family. I let my realtor know that I'd seen enough and we left, with the kids peering at us through the back fence. He let me know that they were renting, not owners. I hope that whoever buys the house buys it as a rental property. The thought that I was looking over the home with the intent to dispossess them was the most horrible feeling I've had in some time. I might as well have been wearing my top hat and greatcoat, twirling my mustache.
All this took us back to the first property I looked at a week and a half earlier. Less than half a mile from Fruitvale BART, a nice tree lined street, low crime (and extremely sturdy and pointy fence as well), no yard to have to deal with, two stories, and in pretty good shape across the board. I had been uncertain about it when I first saw it, but after seeing over a dozen properties in my price range, it's clearly the best deal available (not counting the dream victorian that was never to be mine, despite my weeping a million tears). What I didn't know then, but know now, was how easy it would be to replace the carpet upstairs with a hardwood floor and how trivial it would be to reroute the washer and dryer outlets so that they lead INTO the building instead of the back yard. Most everything else visibly wrong with the property is long term cosmetic fixes and improvements. Clean up the floor, soap and paint the walls, re-paint or stain the cabinets... nothing that I couldn't move in and to over the next several months or years.
So, I'm placing an offer with the bank.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
truth being stranger than fiction
Neil Gaiman posted this little slice of life over on his journal, and it so tickled me that I thought I'd post it. It's the kind of thing that Douglas Adams might have invented.
"I opened the Google window and found myself looking at an advert for a G1 phone. A couple of clicks later I was on the T-mobile website, checking prices and thinking, "Well, I do need a new phone..."
But randomly buying a phone I haven't even held seemed like, well, something that I couldn't imagine myself doing. I wanted to hold it. I wanted to know the specs and such, so I put dog in the back of the car and drove to the local T-Mobile shop.
I knew I was in the right place because there were huge posters everywhere, some bigger than I was, all advertising the new t-Mobile G1.
"Hello," I said, like a man entering a cheeseshop. "I'd like to play with a G1, please."
There was a man and a woman behind the counter. They said they were sorry but they didn't have a G1 for me to play with.
"When will you get them in?"
"We won't get them in."
"No?"
"No."
"Look, are we talking about the same thing? G1 phone. The one on that poster. And that poster. And that one..." The posters were staring at me from the counter. They were all around me.
"No. We won't sell it. We're out of the range and the Google and things that the phone comes with, they won't work on it."
I pulled out my phone, a Nokia N 73, with a T-Mobile SIM card, that happily spends much too much time on the internet doing, er, Google and things. "But this works here..."
"The G1 won't work. It won't do the Google here. So we aren't allowed to sell it."
"But...." I tried to think with this. then I said, "But you have posters." I gestured at them. All pictures of the phone in question, extolling its virtues and explaining that you could only get it here.
"We're a T-Mobile franchise. They send them to us. That's what we have to put up. The posters they send."
"Well, can we talk about the G1 specs?"
"We don't know them." The man and the woman behind the counter seemed very sad about this. The man added, wistfully,"We don't even know the price."
I knew the price, from the website earlier, and I felt guilty about this.
"They have them in the Twin Cities," said the woman. "You could buy one there."
"But if I buy it there, it still won't work here?"
"No," she said, with sadness and with, I suspect envy in her voice. "but they sell it."
There was a bit of a pause. I think I may have said, "Sorry about the posters," as I went out, or I may have just thought it very loudly. They all had pretty pictures of the G1 on them, a phone I don't think I'm going to bother getting."
"I opened the Google window and found myself looking at an advert for a G1 phone. A couple of clicks later I was on the T-mobile website, checking prices and thinking, "Well, I do need a new phone..."
But randomly buying a phone I haven't even held seemed like, well, something that I couldn't imagine myself doing. I wanted to hold it. I wanted to know the specs and such, so I put dog in the back of the car and drove to the local T-Mobile shop.
I knew I was in the right place because there were huge posters everywhere, some bigger than I was, all advertising the new t-Mobile G1.
"Hello," I said, like a man entering a cheeseshop. "I'd like to play with a G1, please."
There was a man and a woman behind the counter. They said they were sorry but they didn't have a G1 for me to play with.
"When will you get them in?"
"We won't get them in."
"No?"
"No."
"Look, are we talking about the same thing? G1 phone. The one on that poster. And that poster. And that one..." The posters were staring at me from the counter. They were all around me.
"No. We won't sell it. We're out of the range and the Google and things that the phone comes with, they won't work on it."
I pulled out my phone, a Nokia N 73, with a T-Mobile SIM card, that happily spends much too much time on the internet doing, er, Google and things. "But this works here..."
"The G1 won't work. It won't do the Google here. So we aren't allowed to sell it."
"But...." I tried to think with this. then I said, "But you have posters." I gestured at them. All pictures of the phone in question, extolling its virtues and explaining that you could only get it here.
"We're a T-Mobile franchise. They send them to us. That's what we have to put up. The posters they send."
"Well, can we talk about the G1 specs?"
"We don't know them." The man and the woman behind the counter seemed very sad about this. The man added, wistfully,"We don't even know the price."
I knew the price, from the website earlier, and I felt guilty about this.
"They have them in the Twin Cities," said the woman. "You could buy one there."
"But if I buy it there, it still won't work here?"
"No," she said, with sadness and with, I suspect envy in her voice. "but they sell it."
There was a bit of a pause. I think I may have said, "Sorry about the posters," as I went out, or I may have just thought it very loudly. They all had pretty pictures of the G1 on them, a phone I don't think I'm going to bother getting."
Monday, October 20, 2008
Some funny
This is one of the funniest parodies I've seen in some time.
Yeah, it's old news, but still....
Yeah, it's old news, but still....
See more funny videos at Funny or Die
rise and fall
Sunday was an unusual day, and worthy of note for me.
I spent the afternoon driving around and viewing properties in Oakland with a realtor. Given the dual circumstances of rapidly dropping home prices and actually having some money for a down payment, I've decided that I'd be a fool to not start looking.
The first place we went to was on a very cute street, and has some potential, although I ripped my pants jumping the fence since the folks handling the property weren't answering their phone to give us the front gate key-code. We had the code to get in the front door though. Quite a bit of potential, but oddly enough the hook-ups for the washer and dryer were on the outside of the house, leading into the non-existent backyard. I don't mind the lack of yard, but I'm not particularly interested in having my washer and dryer out in the rain.
Some homes we couldn't get into without an appointment, which we didn't have, and one or two I vetoed as soon as we pulled up to them. One had clear dry rot in the eaves, which suggested that the entire roof might be in need of replacement. One new home in a nice new development had a particularly vile carpet that looked like ghouls had been using the place as a larder. (Not soaked in blood, just disgustingly filthy.)
Then we came to a property that I had shown up in my inbox a couple of days ago, and I was curious to see. A Victorian home, built in 1891, not far from the West Oakland BART station. 1,600 sq ft, two stories, six rooms. At $232,000 I was sure it had to be a disaster area, but I still wanted to see it, just because of it's age.
Lush foliage peeked over the fence that surrounded the property, and as we opened the gate I was struck at how the front yard space was crammed with a blue spruce, a lemon tree, large ferns and many other plants I couldn't name properly. While my realtor got the front door open, I walked along the side of the building, moving through the plants and checking out the back "yard", which was a study in contrasts, acting as a fully paved two or three car parking area. I moved back to the front and climbed the stairs, walking inside and finding a marbled floor, curving stairs in classic red patterned carpet to the right, and a front room to the left that had clearly been used as a recording studio, with dozens of outlets along the walls, and new cabling everywhere. The kitchen was enormous, with a large fridge and a very nice gas stove that couldn't have been more than a couple of years old. Lovely dining area, and up the stairs were four bedrooms. Everything was in good condition. Some of the carpet would need to be replaced, of course, and while I loved the vibrant red of the stairwell and entryway, and the blue of the kitchen, some of the walls would need to be repainted. Overall, however, it was a dream. A vision.
As we left, the neighbor inquired how long it had been on the market, and what it was going for. His friends had lost the home, and they had been using it as a base of operations for their music business. The large portable storage in his lot was all the equipment, and they had been hoping to get the house back, but didn't realize it had been on the market for a week. I felt bad for them, but still desperately wanted the house.
I had fallen a bit in love with it. It was more than I could ever have dreamed of.
We viewed a couple of other properties, including one that would need to be completely refloored, but that I could otherwise have for a song. But compared to the ancient victorian, nothing could catch my eye.
I got home and looked up the property online. I wanted to double check transportation routes and crime stats. I wanted to be sure that there wasn't something I was missing before I moved to make a bid on the house.
It wasn't there. Many properties weren't there. My saved search had been five pages of results, and now it was two. I went to my "Saved Properties" and saw my precious, and next to status it said "Pending." In the four or five days since the listing had appeared in my inbox, someone had made a bid on the property and it had been accepted by the bank. I had been looking at a home that wasn't even available.
I spent the afternoon driving around and viewing properties in Oakland with a realtor. Given the dual circumstances of rapidly dropping home prices and actually having some money for a down payment, I've decided that I'd be a fool to not start looking.
The first place we went to was on a very cute street, and has some potential, although I ripped my pants jumping the fence since the folks handling the property weren't answering their phone to give us the front gate key-code. We had the code to get in the front door though. Quite a bit of potential, but oddly enough the hook-ups for the washer and dryer were on the outside of the house, leading into the non-existent backyard. I don't mind the lack of yard, but I'm not particularly interested in having my washer and dryer out in the rain.
Some homes we couldn't get into without an appointment, which we didn't have, and one or two I vetoed as soon as we pulled up to them. One had clear dry rot in the eaves, which suggested that the entire roof might be in need of replacement. One new home in a nice new development had a particularly vile carpet that looked like ghouls had been using the place as a larder. (Not soaked in blood, just disgustingly filthy.)
Then we came to a property that I had shown up in my inbox a couple of days ago, and I was curious to see. A Victorian home, built in 1891, not far from the West Oakland BART station. 1,600 sq ft, two stories, six rooms. At $232,000 I was sure it had to be a disaster area, but I still wanted to see it, just because of it's age.
Lush foliage peeked over the fence that surrounded the property, and as we opened the gate I was struck at how the front yard space was crammed with a blue spruce, a lemon tree, large ferns and many other plants I couldn't name properly. While my realtor got the front door open, I walked along the side of the building, moving through the plants and checking out the back "yard", which was a study in contrasts, acting as a fully paved two or three car parking area. I moved back to the front and climbed the stairs, walking inside and finding a marbled floor, curving stairs in classic red patterned carpet to the right, and a front room to the left that had clearly been used as a recording studio, with dozens of outlets along the walls, and new cabling everywhere. The kitchen was enormous, with a large fridge and a very nice gas stove that couldn't have been more than a couple of years old. Lovely dining area, and up the stairs were four bedrooms. Everything was in good condition. Some of the carpet would need to be replaced, of course, and while I loved the vibrant red of the stairwell and entryway, and the blue of the kitchen, some of the walls would need to be repainted. Overall, however, it was a dream. A vision.
As we left, the neighbor inquired how long it had been on the market, and what it was going for. His friends had lost the home, and they had been using it as a base of operations for their music business. The large portable storage in his lot was all the equipment, and they had been hoping to get the house back, but didn't realize it had been on the market for a week. I felt bad for them, but still desperately wanted the house.
I had fallen a bit in love with it. It was more than I could ever have dreamed of.
We viewed a couple of other properties, including one that would need to be completely refloored, but that I could otherwise have for a song. But compared to the ancient victorian, nothing could catch my eye.
I got home and looked up the property online. I wanted to double check transportation routes and crime stats. I wanted to be sure that there wasn't something I was missing before I moved to make a bid on the house.
It wasn't there. Many properties weren't there. My saved search had been five pages of results, and now it was two. I went to my "Saved Properties" and saw my precious, and next to status it said "Pending." In the four or five days since the listing had appeared in my inbox, someone had made a bid on the property and it had been accepted by the bank. I had been looking at a home that wasn't even available.
The Race
A big thanks to Pema for posting this. It's the best reflection on race and the election that I've seen, being succinct, focused, and clear.
------------
You may have seen this in your inbox. If not, cue up your considerations.
WHAT IF...?
Obama/Biden vs McCain/Palin. What if things were switched around? Would the country's collective point of view be different?....think about it.
Ponder the following:
What if the Obamas had walked five children across the stage, including a three month old infant and an unwed, pregnant teenage daughter?
What if John McCain was a former president of the Harvard Law Review?
What if Barack Obama finished fifth from the bottom of his graduating class?
What if McCain had married once, and Obama was a divorcee?
What if Obama had left his first wife after a severe car accident disfigured her?
What if Obama met his second wife in a bar and had a long affair while he was still married?
What if Michelle Obama was the candidate's wife who became addicted to painkillers and acquired them illegally through her charitable organization?
What if Cindy McCain graduated from Harvard?
What if Obama had been a member of the Keating Five? (The Keating Five were five United States Senators accused of corruption in 1989, igniting a major political scandal as part of the larger Savings and Loan crisis of the late 1980s and early 1990s.)
What if McCain were a charismatic, eloquent speaker and Obama couldn't read from a teleprompter?
What if Obama were the candidate whose military experience included discipline problems and a record of crashing seven planes?
What if Obama were the candidate known to display publicly a serious anger management problem?
What if Michelle Obama's family had made their money from beer distribution?
What if the Obamas had adopted a white child?
If these questions reflected reality, do you believe the election numbers would be as close as they are?
Could racism be the culprit?
Racism covers up, rationalizes and minimizes positive qualities in one candidate and emphasizes negative qualities in another when there is a color difference.
Consider educational backgrounds, and the opinions they might effect, were the switch to continue.
Barack Obama -
Columbia University - B.A. Political Science with a Specialization in International Relations.
Harvard - Juris Doctor (J.D.) Magna Cum Laude (that means "top of class")
Joseph Biden -
University of Delaware - B.A. in History and B.A. in Political Science.
Syracuse University College of Law - Juris Doctor (J.D.)
John McCain - United States Naval Academy
Class rank: 894 of 899
Sarah Palin -
Hawaii Pacific University - 1 semester
North Idaho College - 2 semesters - general study
University of Idaho - 2 semesters -journalism
Matanuska-Susitna College - 1 semester
University of Idaho - 3 semesters - B.A. in Journalism
------------
You may have seen this in your inbox. If not, cue up your considerations.
WHAT IF...?
Obama/Biden vs McCain/Palin. What if things were switched around? Would the country's collective point of view be different?....think about it.
Ponder the following:
What if the Obamas had walked five children across the stage, including a three month old infant and an unwed, pregnant teenage daughter?
What if John McCain was a former president of the Harvard Law Review?
What if Barack Obama finished fifth from the bottom of his graduating class?
What if McCain had married once, and Obama was a divorcee?
What if Obama had left his first wife after a severe car accident disfigured her?
What if Obama met his second wife in a bar and had a long affair while he was still married?
What if Michelle Obama was the candidate's wife who became addicted to painkillers and acquired them illegally through her charitable organization?
What if Cindy McCain graduated from Harvard?
What if Obama had been a member of the Keating Five? (The Keating Five were five United States Senators accused of corruption in 1989, igniting a major political scandal as part of the larger Savings and Loan crisis of the late 1980s and early 1990s.)
What if McCain were a charismatic, eloquent speaker and Obama couldn't read from a teleprompter?
What if Obama were the candidate whose military experience included discipline problems and a record of crashing seven planes?
What if Obama were the candidate known to display publicly a serious anger management problem?
What if Michelle Obama's family had made their money from beer distribution?
What if the Obamas had adopted a white child?
If these questions reflected reality, do you believe the election numbers would be as close as they are?
Could racism be the culprit?
Racism covers up, rationalizes and minimizes positive qualities in one candidate and emphasizes negative qualities in another when there is a color difference.
Consider educational backgrounds, and the opinions they might effect, were the switch to continue.
Barack Obama -
Columbia University - B.A. Political Science with a Specialization in International Relations.
Harvard - Juris Doctor (J.D.) Magna Cum Laude (that means "top of class")
Joseph Biden -
University of Delaware - B.A. in History and B.A. in Political Science.
Syracuse University College of Law - Juris Doctor (J.D.)
John McCain - United States Naval Academy
Class rank: 894 of 899
Sarah Palin -
Hawaii Pacific University - 1 semester
North Idaho College - 2 semesters - general study
University of Idaho - 2 semesters -journalism
Matanuska-Susitna College - 1 semester
University of Idaho - 3 semesters - B.A. in Journalism
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
No politics, really
Things are quiet at Casa Wilson.
I'm still working from home, which I still love and wouldn't change for the world. The screenplay is coming along slowly but surely, and I've started working on the fourth Radiostar cartoon. Mostly, though, I'm being social. Seeing shows, having movie nights, and spending time with people whenever possible.
Ultimately though, I've been feeling a bit lethargic. I need an exercise buddy. Someone to do regular lake walks with or something. I don't tend to do such things on my own because, well, they're kind of boring on my own. I'd rather hibernate, or watch something, or read, or create, or do anything than just exercise for exercise's sake. It's always been that way.
Nothing much is currently happening on the relationship front, other than me periodically meeting someone, getting interested, and then getting a kind and flattered but ultimately uninterested response. At least, that's how I perceive it. I've never been good at telling when someone isn't interested versus wants to be pursued. Generally, if I make a move and don't get a response, I move on.
This makes it sound like no one has expressed interest, which isn't true, but the challenge is getting interest on both sides. If I could rationally decide who to be attracted to, life would be so much easier.
I had a conversation about this very recently with a friend, who expressed the sentiment that if such and such a person she had been dating wanted kids (and wanted them now), she'd overlook her general lack of attraction to him because he was such a win in every other way.
This kind of horrified me. I understand the impulse, sort of, but it seems like a good way to sabotage things from the get go. I don't believe in "the one", but I do believe that you need something at the core of love other than "works on paper".
Granted, this is also a conversation between someone in their mid twenties and someone in their late thirties. Heaven help me, but I think I've got the "Perspective."
See, age has been a frequent area of reflection lately. As I'm doing less theatre producing right now, my savings is increasing and I'm watching the declining price of homes with interest. I'm 38 and have always rented, and done so happily. I've made little moves every three years or so and really like where I am currently at. I explored buying about six or seven years ago, but just didn't have the resources. Since then I've been doing Cassandra's Call and making periodic jaunts around the globe, so my savings aren't what they might have been had I hunkered down to work up a solid down payment.
Now I'm looking at a 30 year mortgage and wondering how that works when you're almost 40. This also ties into the relationship thing, as the kind of house that I would prefer over my apartment isn't something I can afford on my salary. A dual income, absolutely, but otherwise... not so much. I could get nice places, to be sure, but it would force me deep into the suburbs or even out of state, and I've built too much here to seriously consider that.... or have I?
Deep questions about lifestyle, age, and love are my preoccupations currently. And of course, there is the big question of what happens next with the election next month. But I did say there wouldn't be any politics in this posting.
I'm still working from home, which I still love and wouldn't change for the world. The screenplay is coming along slowly but surely, and I've started working on the fourth Radiostar cartoon. Mostly, though, I'm being social. Seeing shows, having movie nights, and spending time with people whenever possible.
Ultimately though, I've been feeling a bit lethargic. I need an exercise buddy. Someone to do regular lake walks with or something. I don't tend to do such things on my own because, well, they're kind of boring on my own. I'd rather hibernate, or watch something, or read, or create, or do anything than just exercise for exercise's sake. It's always been that way.
Nothing much is currently happening on the relationship front, other than me periodically meeting someone, getting interested, and then getting a kind and flattered but ultimately uninterested response. At least, that's how I perceive it. I've never been good at telling when someone isn't interested versus wants to be pursued. Generally, if I make a move and don't get a response, I move on.
This makes it sound like no one has expressed interest, which isn't true, but the challenge is getting interest on both sides. If I could rationally decide who to be attracted to, life would be so much easier.
I had a conversation about this very recently with a friend, who expressed the sentiment that if such and such a person she had been dating wanted kids (and wanted them now), she'd overlook her general lack of attraction to him because he was such a win in every other way.
This kind of horrified me. I understand the impulse, sort of, but it seems like a good way to sabotage things from the get go. I don't believe in "the one", but I do believe that you need something at the core of love other than "works on paper".
Granted, this is also a conversation between someone in their mid twenties and someone in their late thirties. Heaven help me, but I think I've got the "Perspective."
See, age has been a frequent area of reflection lately. As I'm doing less theatre producing right now, my savings is increasing and I'm watching the declining price of homes with interest. I'm 38 and have always rented, and done so happily. I've made little moves every three years or so and really like where I am currently at. I explored buying about six or seven years ago, but just didn't have the resources. Since then I've been doing Cassandra's Call and making periodic jaunts around the globe, so my savings aren't what they might have been had I hunkered down to work up a solid down payment.
Now I'm looking at a 30 year mortgage and wondering how that works when you're almost 40. This also ties into the relationship thing, as the kind of house that I would prefer over my apartment isn't something I can afford on my salary. A dual income, absolutely, but otherwise... not so much. I could get nice places, to be sure, but it would force me deep into the suburbs or even out of state, and I've built too much here to seriously consider that.... or have I?
Deep questions about lifestyle, age, and love are my preoccupations currently. And of course, there is the big question of what happens next with the election next month. But I did say there wouldn't be any politics in this posting.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
pushing it
Big surprise, this emergency bailout is flooded with earmarks.
I got this from SoulCamp
"Included in the new rescue plan are such doozies as "INCREASE IN LIMIT ON COVER OVER OF RUM EXCISE TAX TO PUERTO RICO AND THE VIRGIN ISLANDS" and "SEVEN-YEAR COST RECOVERY PERIOD FOR MOTORSPORTS RACING TRACK FACILITY", as well as a "PERMANENT AUTHORITY FOR DISCLOSURE OF INFORMATION RELATING TO TERRORIST ACTIVITIES"?!?
These clowns simply have no limits."
I got this from SoulCamp
"Included in the new rescue plan are such doozies as "INCREASE IN LIMIT ON COVER OVER OF RUM EXCISE TAX TO PUERTO RICO AND THE VIRGIN ISLANDS" and "SEVEN-YEAR COST RECOVERY PERIOD FOR MOTORSPORTS RACING TRACK FACILITY", as well as a "PERMANENT AUTHORITY FOR DISCLOSURE OF INFORMATION RELATING TO TERRORIST ACTIVITIES"?!?
These clowns simply have no limits."
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