Something Borrowed

We've been spending some time lately getting our newest property ready to rent. We're scheduled to sign the lease this Sunday. Picking a tenant is just like gambling - you bet everything on this one individual and you never know how the dice is going to land. You just cross your fingers and hope you picked the best one.

We've been very, very fortunate to have good tenants.  Until recently.  And having a bad one really, really, really makes you appreciate the good ones.  And as we've been working undoing all the damage on this house it was really obvious to me that there needed to be some kind of tenant education. So here ya go...things every renter should know:

1. If you can't afford the place, don't rent it. That seems perfectly logical to me but you would be surprised by the number of people who appear to not even take cost of rent into consideration. Look, I don't care how much you like the place, if the rent is $800 and you only earn $1000 then this is not the place for you.  Unless you can live without water, heat, electricity, transportation or food.

2. We remember you didn't pay rent, even when we don't hear from you.  Do you remember playing hide and go seek? Picking a hiding spot completely obvious but believing you couldn't be seen because you couldn't see them? That same phenomenon sometimes occurs to tenants - except they believe if they don't call you then you won't notice they didn't send rent.  There is nothing more frightening for a landlord than to not receive rent and to not hear from the tenant - deep down we are scared to death that you've skipped rent and moved out. Even if you have to make up some crazy, ridiculous, obvious excuse for why you don't have rent - call!  We'll appreciate the gesture and maybe even the creativity.

3. It's your home, but not your house. We want you to make this your home, to feel like it's your own special place. And it is, it totally is. But the house you live in does not belong to you. Therefore, there are some basic limitations on what kind of liberties you can take when making this space "your own".  The shrubs you removed cost money and I spent time putting them in.  And I'm sorry you didn't like the lamp post in the yard; I'm even sorrier you took it out. It's okay you removed the bathroom cabinet door; it's not okay that you didn't leave the door behind.  And for the life of me, I can't figure out why you would remove the doorbell...

See, the reality of renting is that you don't get to do whatever you want with this place because at some point I've got to come behind you and fix it.

4. It's not appropriate to let your children, or anybody, throw gum on the carpet. It's just not.

5. We know you lied, we're just not sure why.  Our goal is to maintain our homes in the most cost effective manner that we can. Unfortunately, that means we don't allow animals or smoking. I know you love little Fefe and I understand that you can't get your day started without that nicotine hitting your lungs.  You have every right to have as many dogs as you want and to smoke as often as you like. You just can't do that if you rent a house from us. There are plenty of places that welcome dogs and/or smoking. Find one of those.

6. Clean up after yourselves. Look, it's hard enough for me to clean my own bathroom so imagine the horror of having to clean someone else's filth. Have the decency to at least wipe all the grossness away. I don't want to see your urine spots, poop stains or pubs.  It's gross and makes me puke.

7. Take your crap with you. If there are things you decide you don't want when you move out, there are some simple alternatives to just leaving them in the house: have a garage sale, donate to charity, or bag them up and set them on the curb.  We  have (in my state)  to store whatever you leave behind for 30 days before it's legally considered abandoned. Thirty days. You took off and left your dumpy old furniture behind, most likely thinking we would throw it out for you, saving you the inconvenience of messing with it. In reality, you've just stuck us with a giant piece of trash. Which is exactly what we want to work around as we clean, paint, and recarpet. Thanks, thanks for that.

8. We're not rich. With some exceptions, most people with rental property carry a mortgage. Yes, your rent is higher than the mortgage and we make a profit. But we're not getting rich off your rent. The small profit we make is what we use for maintenance and repairs and to cover the mortgage during vacancies.  The real value of investment properties comes at the end - when the mortgage is paid off or the house is sold. Just because we own houses doesn't mean we're swimming in money.

9. It's cheaper to give you your deposit back than it is to keep it.  Everyone thinks landlords try to do whatever they can to keep the deposit - like greedy little trolls trying to steal your money. For the majority of us that couldn't be further from the truth. See, when you get your deposit back that means the house was clean and undamaged and I spent less of my time cleaning and repairing. You get your money, I get to avoid extra work - everybody is happy.  What you may not realize is that if we keep your deposit, we're actually losing money. 

It cost a landlord money every time someone moves out - there's the lost rent while finding a new tenant, cost of running ads in the paper, and cost of keeping the utilities on.  There is also the cost of prepping for a new tenant - this cost usually comes in the form of time. And every landlord recognizes and accepts those costs - it's part of it.

But when a house is trashed and needs lots of cleaning and repair (and the deposit is kept) the prep work transforms to real cost - buying paint, cleaning/putting in new carpet, replacing damaged doors, putting in new sheet rock, replacing the faucet you broke,  the blinds you bent, and the tile you cracked.  That measly little deposit? Well, it doesn't even begin to cover it. So no, we don't want to keep your deposit.  We just want you to follow these rules and

10. Leave the house exactly how you got it.

I Remember You

So I walked out of the office and saw this guy sitting in the lounge area. He looked like a guy I had met in college and I was debating whether I should say something or just pretend I didn’t see him. Then I realized it wasn’t him. Problem solved.

It made me wonder what happened to him; I haven’t thought about him in years. We had a speech class together and I had a crush on him. I was thrilled when he asked to get together to study. He came over to my apartment and as he was looking around he saw a picture of me and one of my best guy buddies from high school – only a few years before. He picked up the picture, looked at it and said “Wow. You were fat then.” And laughed.

And I was bigger in the picture but not by much – which made me pretty sure he still thought I was fat.

So we start studying. Only we’re not studying. I’m working and he’s distracted, inattentive and impatient - obviously wanting me to do his homework and just give him answers. And he was so dumb. I mean, I couldn’t even have a conversation with him. There was just nothing up there. Nothing.

And when I wouldn’t do the work for him he tried to charm me into it – except he wasn’t that charming.

I’m sure he flirted his way through high school but by the time he left that night, I didn’t even think he was cute anymore.

The next class I had to give my speech and he tried to make silly faces and act goofy during my presentation. I think he thought I would find it funny but really, it was just annoying. I’m not sure what I said, but I remember telling him I thought he was being immature and irritating. I think at that point he knew I was over it.

I wonder if he finished college…and how many girls it took to get him through.

*Since I called him dumb I feel the need to add a disclaimer:  I realize some (a lot) of my posts have typos and spelling errors. This is due to sloppiness, not lack of understanding basic english.  I read some of my previous post and I cringed everytime I caught a mistake.  There was a lot of cringing going on.

Battle Plan

Operation Fat No More kicks off tonight. Don’t confuse this with previously failed missions such as Operation Bangin Body, Operation Get In Shape or Operation Smokin Hot. Those, my friends, were simply casualties in the great war against weight. What an ugly, merciless, cruel battle it has been!

I almost, almost, hate to start any kind of workout plan now since it’s the beginning of the year. It seems so cliché and typical – everybody’s high on resolutions for a new, slimmer, healthier body so people are fleeing to the gym. It almost seems kind of superficial. And temporary. Look people, this isn’t a beginning of the year fad for me – I need to lose weight all year round. So I need all you skinny bitches wanting to lose about 6 pounds to move out of the way so us big girls can get going. Because frankly, seeing your flat tummies and toned thighs is more than a little demotivating.

I think someone should open a gym just for fat people. If you’re body looks too good, you can’t get in. So everybody in there will be jiggling together. And then, as you lose weight, you get transferred to the half-way house gym – Chubby Champs – a place for those in that in-between place. And then, finally, you can graduate on to the utopian gym where all the beautiful people go, not really to work out but to show off their small, toned, perfect little bodies.

Because that’s what I would totally do.

It's Alive

Out of the depths of laziness, I rise!

I spent the last days of 2012 being as lazy as possible. Well, as lazy as you can be when you've been bestowed the title of Domestic Goddess. A title like that comes with a lot of responsibility - clothes to fold, meals to cook...not to mention the little people I rule.  They can be outright vicious.  I mean, here I was on staycation and the little monsters continued to demand to be feed, watered, wiped and even occasionally bathed. It's a consuming and daunting job...but the crown is SO worth it!

I immediately set my new year in motion with a speeding ticket. BOOOO! Not necessarily for getting the ticket - that I deserved  - but for starting my new year with a hefty and unplanned expense.  I was speeding. I didn't realize I was speeding so when I first saw the lights I had a tiny sliver of hope that they were going out on a call and I could scoot over and they would blow right past me...but no.

I don't debate that I was speeding - I was jammin out and lost in thought and was on a highway that doubles as Oklahoma's own Indianapolis Motor Speedway so I'm sure I probably was. Plus, there have been multiple times that I have been late and intentionally sped...so it all kinda evens out. But it still sucks to waste that money. 

And the real stinker of the whole deal was that I was on my way to a meeting only to arrive and be informed that I was stood up. I can't say it was the first time I've been stood up but it was certainly the most expensive.

So here's to a new year filled with love, laughter, and cruise control!

Pray For Me

Pray for me.

Seriously.

My spirit is soooo not right. It's the Christmas season and I feel at this time, more than ever, I should be striving to live a Christ-life existence but instead I'm being ugly and resentful.

My MIL is coming to visit. She arrives tonight. We've invited her to visit to 1. save some money and 2. give her an opportunity to see the M in her school program and see both girls during their ballet recital.  We offered to buy her gas for the trip because that's cheaper than us spending the money on our own gas and a hotel room.

And that's the issue.  I'm growing increasingly resentful that we have to pay her to come visit.

When I first met her she lived in what was a half step better than a shack. It was a handmade house made mostly out of pressed board without any insulation. It was shocking. So several years ago, when we were in a position to, we bought 15 acres with a house in her area. And by "in a position to" I mean we had just enough good credit, not that we had enough money. The house in not nice and needed and still needs some repair. But it is bigger and nicer than what she had so we bought it on the condition that she would live there and pay the mortgage. Basically, we just used our credit to finance it for her.  It was a son taking care of his Mom.

She lived there about 2 years and then moved out. We were stuck with the mortgage and an empty house. We tried to sale it but the area is rural so it sat empty.  About a year ago she moved back in and she's making the mortgage payment. This time, however, she's moved a trailer onto the land and my FIL and SIL live in it. And pay her rent. Enough to cover the entire mortgage payment.

She's on welfare so she has limited income but I'm still resentful that it seems we're always having to dish out money to have a relationship with her. I just know too much about her financial situation to believe that she can't come visit us unless we give her money. 

And I know, I know, that the money doesn't matter. In my heart I know it's worth the money to give her an opportunity to see the girls and experience some of the things she misses because she lives so far away...I know this. So why, why do still kinda resent it?

See, see how ugly and petty that is? So pray for me that I change my attitude and focus on the fact that the girls will spend some valuable and cherished time with a woman they love...

Wired Up

This is turning out to be the Monday that wasn't...it can't feel like a Monday if you're not in the office, right?

I had a meeting first thing this morning - got to share the fabulous news that our program has met exceeded our objectives for the second year in a row. Such a relief to know we are doing something right.

Immediately after that I was off to the orthodontist for an emergency visit. Not a real emergency; a brace emergency. Which essentially means that at my visit last Thursday, one of the wires was not cut short enough and was cutting my cheek. So it was a real emergency to me. Seriously, take a wire and poke around in your mouth and you'll understand - it was an emergency. 

I waited for an hour. AN HOUR. They kept calling people back and I'm just sitting there...waiting. It took a total of 30 seconds for them to cut it and I was done. Seriously, you couldn't have slipped me in somewhere like 20 minutes ago?  I did say something kinda borderline rude to the receptionist, after I looked up and caught him dancing (moves from A Chorus Line) behind the desk. And wala - they called me back a few minutes later.  Of course, I have to be careful...they're still working on my teeth.

Really though, the business practices of that place are ridiculous. From the t-shirt lady to the scheduler - who when I called this morning asked, with an attitude, if I was wearing wax. As if that was a simple solution I was just too dumb to figure out. I could hear her thinking  "OMG, do we really need to see you about that?"

Yes, lady, I'm wearing wax. If I don't my cheek will bleed. But my cheek shouldn't be bleeding, should it? Do cheeks do that? Just spontaneously bleed? Because I kinda thought it might have had something to do with this WIRE STICKING OUT.

And I'm not dealing with wax for the next 8 weeks. You can forget that.  So until I'm done I'll be at the mercy of their rude staff and long waits. But you better believe that I'm telling everyone that will listen about my experience and directing them to keep shopping...

Special Me

As soon as I hit the button to publish that last post I heard something. I've just watched this really creepy and demented show and out of dead silence I hear something creak and then a low moan.  Talk about jumping out of the chair!

It took me a full minute to realize it was my child.  No time to be scared when you've got a kid with a tummy ache.  Poor thing was suffering while her Mommy was frozen trying to figure out what was coming to get her. 

But I wasn't really frozen from fear - I just have a really, really slow reaction time. I don't know why but it takes me a minute to process things. I think my mental faculties are fully functioning, although there are days when that is debatable...but they're a little slow. It just takes a minute for things to register with me. 

That's why I think I'm not good at sports. I can't react fast enough. Like if a ball is coming at me my brain thinks: Ball....coming...at...you.  Then it hits: BALLCOMINGATYOU! and instead of reaching out and catching it, I'm in this panic mode so I shut my eyes, turn my head, and put my hands up to try and protect my face.

It's also how I managed to run over a dead deer.  I did see the deer laying in the middle of the road,  but by the time I processed that important piece of information I was already feeling the thump of rolling over it.  Sad.

At least I think this delay in processing is related mostly to physical reactions. It doesn't seem to take me long to process during conversations - I think I keep up. But then again, maybe all those times I've been told I was special, they really meant I was special...