Hey hey!
Around the time of my last blog post, two things happened:
a) We felt so burnt out after the Olympics that we booked an epic two-week vacation to Mexico for the end of March; and
b) We got a call from our lovely mortgage broker, Chle. He told us that the mortgage rules were changing in April, making it a lot more difficult for small business owners like our fine selves to qualify for a mortgage. So, you know…if we wanted to buy a place, we’d better get the fuck on it! Wooo!
We’d been planning to glance around for a place starting after we got back from Mexico in April but that wasn’t going to cut it. And we can move pretty fast for creampuffs, when the motivation is sufficient. If you know what I mean.
So we hopped on the internet immediately and began searching through real estate porn like there was no tomorrow. We also engaged the realtor all our friends were using – the best realtor in all of Vancouver – because we wanted to be cool like them. We’ll call her “MJ” – because that is her name.
After many long nights of surfing real estate pron, our eyes were glazed over and our right hands hurt a lot. But we had a few places we liked and MJ found some more, then pulled together a crazy marathon house tour extravaganza and we found the place of our dreams and got into a bidding war and won it! By offering to close in two weeks, right before we were leaving for Mexico, we won! The place was ours, pending financing!! Pop the champagne and take off your pants! Woooo!
We didn’t think the financing part of the deal would be a problem. Sure, it would need to happen crazy quickly, but we had been pre-approved for a mortgage back in January, and we had a good 10% to put down. What could go wrong?
I am not going to bore you with the details of the ensuing clusterfuck, but if I were making an album of songs about our purchasing process, the titles would go something like this:
The Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation Ripped My Heart Out, Sat on It and Cut One
We Will Never Own This or Any Other Home
Fuck This Shit, Let’s Move Back to Toronto Where At Least They Have Garbage Chutes
Drive-by Inspection
Genworth Mortgage Insurance, Can I Have Your Babies?
The “B” in “Form B” Stands for “Because You Can’t Have a Form B If There’s No Strata Council Yet, Dipshits”
It’s 9 PM on a Friday – Do You Know Where the Guy from ScotiaBank Is?
REJECTED (power ballad)
Far From Over (cover of original Frank Stallone song)
Our Car is Now an Asset, not a Debt (Math is Hard for the Bank)
Conflict of Interest
In My Legal Opinion, Your Developer is Screwing You Out of $30,000
I’m Calling My Dad
Caulk This
My Parents Launch Such a Crazy Plan to Ensure that We Don’t Lose our Deposit That Universe Finally Stops Fucking With Us
Cautiously Optimistic but Still Covering Our Privates in Case We Get Kicked in the Nuts One More Time Before We Sign This Thing
The Fridge Has an Ice-Maker!
What’s hilarious is that I WANTED to blog about this whole thing from start to finish, but I DIDN’T WANT TO JINX IT.
But hey – thanks to the heroic efforts of our real estate dynamic duo, MJ and Chle, it all worked out! We have a new place to call our own! Our office won’t be in the dining room anymore! It’s so awesome!
And then we still went to Mexico because we’d already paid for the trip. HA ha!
We move in less than two weeks and elves don’t seem to be packing. But in the meantime, here are some photos of the new place looking all pristine, before we move in and lower the tone.
Living room with classy staging furniture. We wanted to buy those green chairs
but they were $400 each. Not even with a handjob, Joe.
Dining room with classy staging furniture and large freaky fake plant on kitchen island.
The building is a three unit strata. We’re on the ground floor,
hiding behind the cedars. Because our pants are off.
Out the french doors to our little yard and patio.
Or, as Emmy refers to it, “the shitter". Stay classy, dog.
The kitchen, ladies and gentlemen. The kitchen.
Guest bathroom with beribboned toilet, folded towel in
questionable taste and comically large sink. Jealous??
There are two bedrooms and a teeny den as well, but all my photos of them sucked and they didn’t have any photos I could steal off the listing. But what happens in the bedrooms is private anyway, YOU PERVS.
My gay brother-in-law is coming to help us move – it’s gonna be like a musical over here! Stay tuned for further moving shenanigans!
p.s. Mexico was very nice. I didn’t take any good photos and the papayas tasted farty, but we enjoyed ourselves nonetheless.
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