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T h e A d v e n t u r e s o f C h i c a g o J o

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Hodgepodge Mismash Assortment

2007-08-13� � 1:21 p.m.
Since last writing, I�ve started and stopped several blog entries. Here�s a collection of the unfinished few.


I went to Houston a couple weekends ago with full intentions of buying a house. However, when we toured the place, my parents decided that this was exactly the house that they wanted to live and eventually grow old in. Being an exceptionally good daughter who understands the importance of having no stairs to climb, a bedroom large enough to stumble around in, and an oven that doesn�t require bending over, I of course gave them the house.

I fought the urge to call and make my own offer for $1 more. Again, because I�m an exceptionally good daughter, I did no such thing. But don�t think I didn�t tease them about it for the rest of the weekend.

In exchange for not outbidding and giving them what would have netted me the pre-tax equivalent of a shiny new Corvette, I�m now allowed to decorate the whole house. My parents decorate like they�re blind, so having control over this should be fun. Mine all mine all mine!

You bet your ass that one bedroom will have a bunch of photos of yours truly for being the best oldest daughter ever. One who will give you the house she wants. One who will sit with the agent and talk through the contract. One who will then call her Texas contacts to get you a mortgage broker. One who will then call another mortgage broker who calls back a lot faster so you can file the necessary papers today.

In fewer than 45 days, my parents will be closing on their new house. And over the next six or so months, they�ll eventually have the old place cleaned out and be in the new one.

By then I�ll have the crown moudling re-caulked, the rooms painted in solid colors, the fireplace stripped to remove the painted-over the bricks, one wall knocked out, new carpet installed, wood flooring laid, sealant poured over the terrazzo flooring, the back deck replaced, and new kitchen counters and cabinets.

This isn�t a fixer-upper by any means. I�ve just got my design eye out and roaming.

Another highlight to that weekend was going to my nephew�s fourth birthday party.



The boy is now four!

Tons of people came out for the party, which consisted of all the sugary drinks the kids could stand to drink, all the icing-heavy cake they could eat, and a baseball bat that was passed around so the kids could beat a lion-shaped pi�ata until its candy innards fell out.


Today I feel like I drank all of the vodka in Russia.


Unless I need something specific, it�s pretty well known that I think going to the doctor is pretty useless. Applying a little common sense and the occasional oh-so-handy Google search can do plenty.

Got a cold? Wash your hands. Don�t hang around others. Get plenty of rest. Match your symptoms up to what�s on the side of a box of syrup. And just wait it out.

Got a hurt leg?


Today I went to the doctor. She made me wait a really long time, so I felt justified in stealing a magazine.


I love real estate. Love it, love it, love it! I�m not to the point that I can do it full-time for the money, but I�m fortunate enough to recognize what I want to do and dabble in it here and there. In the not-too-distant future, I hope it�s what I do day in and day out.

Someone once told me that you won�t fully reach for and complete your goals if you don�t write them down. That official inked-in acknowledgement seems to be what separates the dreamers from the doers. During one of the self-composed exercises that I work on each week (man, I really am such a dork), I wrote out what I want to accomplish by the end of the year.

I wrote out: Own 3 properties by the end of the year.

I stared at it for a bit, thinking the numbers through and looking at the very broad parameters.

Three properties within the next six months.

Are these single family homes? Apartment complexes? Campgrounds? Car washes? Batting cages? Laundry mats?

Are they in Chicago? Houston? Austin? Long Island? Even in this country?

And although most people would say that having a more specific goal in mind would do you better, I looked at it differently. With no barriers to what I�d defined, I took my pen and made two little marks to upgrade to my stated goal.

The 3 was then transformed into an 8.

Now this is something that will take a bit of effort. *gulp*

As I sit at my desk during after-work hours and scour the housing listings, my attention returns repeatedly to the same property type, filling the needs of a given demographic. Once deciding to get into real estate, I�ve made jokes about being a slum lord. With my decision to own a trailer park, at least I�m working with a demographic I understand.


Ten random things about me

Josh wrote this the other day. And since I�m bored (not because I strive to be just like Josh, mind you...), I figured I�d come up with a list too.

I love sneezing. I have this explosive, full-body sneeze that feels like it�s expelling the devil each time I rear back and let go. I�ve always enjoyed sneezing, but only recently have I said anything about it. I guess I�m just curious to know if anyone else loves sneezing like I love it. Let the comments section know.

Purses are my weakness. In my short trip to New York, I bought seven purses. Who needs seven (ahem, more) purses? Certainly not me! But today I switched into a vintage red leather purse that is too smooth for words, and I�m loving it.


I�m really good at being single. Really, really good. I always feel like when I get into a relationship, much of this goes to the side and my time is spent elsewhere.

Last night I had a dream that the ex was trying to get back with me. I can only remember two of his attempts: He dyed the side of his head to match the rest of his black hair, and he baked me brownies.

Cosmetic improvement and a show of domestically competence might be the way to someone�s heart. However, I loved that sprinkled grey on the sides, and I don�t like chocolate.


Last September I posted a W4M looking for an actuary. I didn�t think much about the ad, but it apparently stirred up a few offices in the week it was posted. Between the actuarial message boards, the industry newsletters, and a friend of a friend passing my now-private MySpace page along, I got some great responses.

Very little came out of it romance-wise, but I dated an econ professor a few times, made one friend, met a table full of message board readers, and passed many on-the-clock work hours browsing through the emails.

A friend googled the ad the other day and passed along some information. Apparently there is a recent forum posting saying that a woman is now writing guys back from their response to my ad. There�s a photo included, and there was some talk about poetry and grade schoolers.

Accept no imitations, guys. This is not me.


Gypsy soul.


Hey tough guy! Let me be your weakness.


No Appointment, No Disappointment

I read something recently that a friend wrote about a Zen Commandment titled �No Appointment, No Disappointment�, and it hit on something I�ve been thinking about lately. (I�ve been calling it �Expectations Management�.) Basically what it means is that if you have your expectations low, you can�t really be disappointed when things don�t work out.

It sounds pretty pessimistic in how I describe it, but think about it like this: Say you met someone online. You�ve had decent emails back and forth, and the requisite phone call went well too. But when you show up for the first date, he�s four inches shorter, 60 pounds heavier, and wielding a gift of hot pink long-stemmed roses with baby�s breath.

If you looked at the date as merely something to do one evening after work, it becomes a funny story to later tell your girlfriends. However, if you did what sometimes happens to even the strongest of women, wondering if he�s The One, it�s a disappointment.

I had a recent encounter that has my stomach in knots. It�s not a match.com scenario like described above, but I�m still on-edge, nauseated, and jumpy. Possibilities are just that -- possible. No guarantees. No contracts. No tell what�s going on or will happen.

I�m a planner. I like having everything mapped out, complete with a contingency plan. Call it the head protecting the heart (not just in a lovey-dovey sense either), but it�s the way my brain works, and that�s that.

It�s not to say that I�m incapable of jumping on a whim. I�ve certainly done a lot of that in my days -- from random evenings that end with the sun rising as I enter my home, to moving to Chicago while jobless and friendless.

There�s a certain amount of confidence I have in most aspects of my life, where I know that no matter what I do, everything will work out. I suppose I know that everything in every other aspect will also work out... but it�s not a slam-dunk.

So when something creeps up on me in one of those not-so-clear areas, I can�t help but be on-edge. �



Miss something?

Moving Day - 2008-02-15
Working from Home is Glorious - 2008-02-13
Speaking in Tongues - 2008-02-07
I Have My Reasons - 2008-01-25
Got an Itch, Fix it, Shine it Up, Sing it Out - 2008-01-23

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