Since there is nothing exciting going on in the home-buying saga, I am re-posting a myspace blog I wrote after our honeymoon. Can you believe it's already been 10 months? Time flies when you're having fun, I guess. Here goes, originally posted March 18, 2007:
The honeymoon was awesome. Well, it didn't start out THAT great. First, you may or may not have noticed, but my wife was WASTED at the end of the reception. We made it to the hotel after our driver (Nancy's cousin-in-law...big spenders we are) dropped us off at our house to get our stuff. Nancy's parents even made it home in time to join in the fun of making fun of Nancy's drunk ass. That wake-up call came pretty early on Sunday morning for our 9 am flight.
Speaking of flights, our flight to Miami was, well, interesting. And by interesting I mean freaking miserable. Think of all the cliches that remind you of a nightmare flight, and this was pretty close. First, the 400 pound (and I am not even exaggerating) woman seated, you guessed it, on our row, taking up hers and Nancy's seat. So Nancy and I basically shared a seat for 2 hours to Florida. And in case you hadn't noticed, we ain't exactly built like the Olsen twins. Nancy is now intimately familiar with every fold of this woman's back fat, tits, and armpit. She not only needed a seat belt extender, but IT barely fit. And where is she headed? To OUR CRUISE! And the funny part is, she read a fitness magazine, including detailed descriptions of the newest pilates moves and sexual positions, while scarfing down a huge bag of what I can only assume was some sort of animal feed. The stuff was some sort of trail mix I guess, but it looked like the stuff you buy at the zoo to feed the hippopotamus. Coincidence? I thought the airline had some sort of limit on these sorts of things, but I guess how would they know unless she volunteered that info while booking her flight?
Then there was the guy seated directly behind Jabba, who told his entire life story to the couple behind us (well, behind Jabba's right half, and us). In a loud voice. Without stopping to take a breath. For the entire flight. He works for Office Depot, travels alot, is recently remarried with a bunch of kids, and likes long walks on the beach, in case you were interested.
Last but not least the baby across the aisle. Now this baby didn't just cry, it shrieked. Imagine your brakes squealing as you slam on them while going 50 mph. That is what is sounded like. Every five minutes. The entire flight. Even talking-guy was getting a bit irritated. I know because he told the couple a few times, and we were forced to listen to his entire conversation.
Anyway, once we made it to Miami, all was well. We went out to a few bars on South Beach. It's possible I may have sent a drunken text message or seven from one of said bars. Nancy, the trooper that she is, was back in the saddle less than 24 hours after hurling her guts out in our "Honeymoon" Suite. That's my girl. Left out on the cruise to Key West and Playa del Carmen, Mexico bright and early the next morning. It was awesome, with way too much food, drink, and gambling, with some comedy shows, musical gay dancer shows, and just lounging around thrown in. I even managed to hurl my guts out one morning in KeyWest. Let's just say that alcohol the night before + Conch Fritters (some sort of sea animal deep fried and stuffed) = Randy, meet Uncles Ralph and Earl. All in all the cruise was alot of fun. There is so much to do, and I would definitely recommend doing it if you haven't.
We got back to Miami on Friday morning, get on the bus back to the airport, and make it almost all the way to the airport when I realize I have somehow lost my truck keys. And my work keys. And the work safe key. D'oh! Got to the airport and dug through the luggage. No dice. Checked our bags at the airport and tried to call the Cruise line, where the ever-so-helpful customer service dept told us we would have to wait 4-5 days to receive them in the mail. IF they find them. This is obviously not an option, so we took a $25 cab ride back to the port, where we begged the port authority to let us back in the terminal, where we begged the cruise people to call the ship and see if they had my keys. I even advised Nancy to shed a tear or two if she could. Luckily, the people there were much nicer than the people we talked with on the phone, and they had found the keys, and after a long wait, we got them. So another $25 cab ride back to the airport (our original shuttle bus was included in our cruise) and just a short 3 hour wait for our plane.
I killed some time by convincing Nancy I had seen Jared from the Subway commercials, just to see if her star-stalking behavior would emerge for a D-List celebrity. It did. And to our pleasure, we saw our good friend,the 400 pound woman waiting for our same flight. We glanced at our tickets and noticed we were on the same row. We had booked our flight through the cruise line, we had sat next her on the way in, and she was on our cruise, so she must have booked her flight throught the cruise line as well. Just great. We were going to be stuck next to her again for 2 hours. She was even in our boarding group. To our relief she was across the aisle this time, but on the same row. However, the plane wasn't as full this time, and Nancy and I even had a seat between us. Must have been our lucky day.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Wa-ai-ting is the Hardest Part
Nothing new to report on the Fitz. He still looks alot like a 120' x 50' plot of dirt. Some genius at the Meritage lending office decided to lend us the money for this adventure. I hope he has a backup job ready. We made the mistake of telling the mortgage lender dude that I was self-employed. For going on four months now. You would have thought we told him that I talked to myself while begging for spare change beside the overpass that I currently live under. Evidently "self-employed" to a lender is just one notch above having this job:
Thank God Nancy pays all her bills the day they come in the mail (seriously, who does that?), or we might be inviting you to our "Help Nancy and Randy Buy a House" Bake Sale next week in front of Kroger.
Nancy has our first appointment to meet with the "Design Team" to start picking out tile, carpet, doors, counter tops, etc. on Thursday. They don't tell you ahead of time what the choices are or how much they cost. I am picturing her coming home with a shiny little catalog with $10,000 faucets and $5,000 French Doors. I have a strange feeling that the price of our house will just about double by the time we get through with all of our "upgrades". ("Oh, you wanted running water? That will be a little extra.")
I'm just ready to get all this over with, so they can start building the damn thing. The realtor is coming out next week to tell us all of the horrible things we need to fix before anyone would even consider buying our house. Looking forward to that. I wish I had one of those Leg Lamps like the dad on A Christmas Story had, just to see what she would say. And it looks like Shelby will be going to work with me quite a bit once the realtor starts showing our house, since Shelby's not exactly polite to company. But with all the work that Nancy and her parents put into this house after she bought it, I think we'll be able to sell it for a fair price. I wonder if the new owners would like us to throw in the couches Shelby-as-a-puppy used as chew toys?
That's all the fun and exciting things I can think of tonight. If you've made it this far, that means you truly care, so start organizing your cupcake recipes for our bake sale. Just in case.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
The Past 12 Months and The Fitzgerald
Well, I've finally done it. I've entered the world of bloggers who will give you more information than you ever wanted to know about the mundane details of our daily lives. I apologize in advance.
The past 12 months has been pretty exciting. We got married, had a great honeymoon, welcomed our adorable niece Brynna into the world, purchased our own veterinary clinic, found out that Laura is pregnant with Makinley, and then just yesterday signed a contract to start building a new home.
We decided a few months ago that we would try to buy a house this Spring. We first wanted to pay off a few debts and get the clinic humming along. So far, business has been good, especially considering it is the slower part of the year right now. On Thanksgiving, we started looking at houses for sale online, and we found a house called The Fitzgerald, built by Meritage Homes, that seemed to be a perfect fit for us. Of course, you can only tell so much online.
On Friday, Nancy went with one of her friends to look at her new house in Katy, and then they decided to take a detour and check out a new neighborhood in Katy called Silver Ranch. They went to the model home, which just happens to be The Fitzgerald, and talked to the Sales Manager, Mike. Then they went for a little tour of the model home. By the time I got off work, Nancy was so excited about the house she could hardly contain herself. Well, she didn't actually contain herself at all. I was barely past "Hey babe, I'm on my way home" in my nightly phone call after I leave work, when she started telling me more than I ever wanted to know about backsplash inlays, stairway rails, and French doors. When she started talking about all the free stuff Meritage throws in, and all the free upgrades, then she was speaking my language, Cheapskatese. By the time she finished telling me about her visit to her new best friend Mike and the Fitzgerald model home, I a) was already almost home and b) knew that I better agree to buy this house or risk divorce. And divorce is a lot of paperwork.
She informed what our Saturday plans would be: She would wait for me to get off work, and then, together, we would go visit this Mike character at Meritage. I had not even been inside the house yet, but I knew that Saturday we would likely be signing over our yet-to-be-conceived first born child, and whatever else Mike asked for, in return for The Fitgerald.
When we got to the Sales Office/model Fitzgerald, Mike greeted us with a sly grin, and sent us on a tour of The Fitz (which is now evidently my nickname for the house. I just thought that up all by myself), since he was busy with another couple signing a 3 inch thick stack of papers. I apologized to him, much too late, for all the questions that Nancy and Marci asked him the day before.
I must admit, the house is pretty cool. Although it looks like it was decorated by a Saudi Prince on crack. We walked every square inch of the place, and I liked what I saw. Then we drove around looking at lots and debating the advantages and disadvantages of each muddy plot of land armed with nothing but a color-coded map and our imaginations. You see, there are only about 3 finished homes in the neighborhood so far, so the rest of it is just a bunch of dirt. With stakes in it. We finally settled on a nice little lot with 100 acres of barren Katy ISD land directly behind it. We decided we didn't want any neighbors behind us. The houses are close enough together already, and a house behind us too would have been a little clostrophobic. And someone might ride four-wheelers or dirt bikes on the land, which gives Shelby hour upon hour of barking and chasing entertainment.
We then sat down with our buddy Mike and each signed our names 1,435 times on the contract, as Mike gave us the Cliffs-Notes version of each and every whereby and heretofor in the whole freaking document. Then Nancy got to put a little red magnetic button on the big map, showing that The Fitz, at 26019 Siver Timbers Lane, was now ours.
We then drove around the neighborhood some more, so that Nancy could inform me why each lot, and each slab, and each frame was somehow inferior to our newly purchased Fitz. We had just made a pretty huge decision in a shorter amount of time than it takes me to get out of bed in the morning. Now the fun part begins. Getting our house ready to sell, picking out floors, and tiles, and bricks, and carpet. And somehow convincing my wife that just because they give us $12,000 in free upgrades does not mean we then have to spend an extra $12,000 on even more upgrades. I'm not optimistic about my chances of winning this one.
Now that you've undoubtedly dozed off attempting to read much more than I ever intended to write, wake up-here are some pictures. I'm sure daily, if not hourly, updates of the construction process will follow.
Fitzgerald Model Home
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