Thursday, May 28, 2009
Advertising
It is no secret that a few months ago, I finally got roped in. On most pages on that site, there are some ads in the sidebar, tailored, so we are told, to the user's interests. Then why was one of them for this today? I don't even own a television right now. Oh, wait, could it be the fact that "foreign languages" is listed as one of my interests? That's some definition of "tailored."
Monday, May 18, 2009
A Miracle at City Hall
Three things, in increasing order of improbability. Someone out there has read Kafka. That someone absorbed the lessons Kafka had to impart. The person has a position at, or influence upon, the City Hall of the city where I now live. It took me all of fifteen minutes both to pay the city property tax on my car (never mind the fact that I had to pay one at all) and to obtain a parking permit for my new neighbourhood this morning. There were no lines, I had to talk only to two people (the clerk and the cashier), and both payments, although different creatures legally speaking, were handled in the same transaction and by the same person. I did not have to fill out a single form, and I even got credit for a portion of the money I paid to Arlington last year. The most amazing thing is that I had neither a utility bill nor a lease agreement to offer as proof of address. In a feat of creativity, I offered up a copy of the deed of trust, and they took it with only a minimal furrowing of the brows. Strictly speaking, the deed does not prove that I live at the stated address, it only proves that I owe someone money for the property at that address. But the fact that both my name and the address were listed on it was evidently enough. Way to go! Would that every interaction with the local government in all locations was that painless.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Moving
The blog will have to remain on life support for a while longer. I'm typing this while sitting on the floor, surrounded by the last few remaining boxes and an unnerving number of miscellaneous things that keep appearing from closets and kitchen cabinets. I spent my first night at the new place last night, where I discovered that at least in the living room, where I slept on a futon for lack of another suitable spot, with windows wide-open, I could hear the railroad and the occasional bass-mobile passing along the street at an incomprehensible hour. I also discovered that the neighborhood's avian population is quite large, and begins to make itself heard around 4:30 a.m.
As luck would have it, J. had to leave town unexpectedly for a family emergency, leaving me to do 90% of all the work involved in the move, including the actual moving of things, which I decided to do myself, in the back of her VW. Quite a job. One always has tons more stuff than one thinks, but that's hardly news. At the new place, I piled everything in what will be the guest bedroom, and neatly stacked in one place like that, it really didn't look that bad. For two people in their thirties who love books and records, we could do a lot worse.
Great big thank you to my colleague B.L. whose generous offer of his pickup truck, to say nothing of his time and energy, saved me from the U-Haul nightmare.
Up next: Probably stories of woe from City Hall.
As luck would have it, J. had to leave town unexpectedly for a family emergency, leaving me to do 90% of all the work involved in the move, including the actual moving of things, which I decided to do myself, in the back of her VW. Quite a job. One always has tons more stuff than one thinks, but that's hardly news. At the new place, I piled everything in what will be the guest bedroom, and neatly stacked in one place like that, it really didn't look that bad. For two people in their thirties who love books and records, we could do a lot worse.
Great big thank you to my colleague B.L. whose generous offer of his pickup truck, to say nothing of his time and energy, saved me from the U-Haul nightmare.
Up next: Probably stories of woe from City Hall.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Real Estate
I suppose I ought to post an update, even though I have had no time to write anything of any consequence. So a few loosely connected observations.
J. and I finally took the plunge and bought a dwelling of our own. So our largely debt-free and carefree existence is over. Scary time to buy real estate in this economy, but our guiding principle was that a house is no different than any other big-ticket item -- you buy one when you need one. So we are now the proud own... er, make that residents of a lovely two-bedroom condo, owned by the people who lent us the money to buy it.
The local real estate market makes less sense than ever. Everyone acknowledges that at the height of the real estate bubble, the prices were obscene, here no less than elsewhere in the US (more, if anything), yet they are down no more than 3% from their height. In desirable neighborhoods at least. The bubble does not appear to have burst -- on the contrary, it appears to be hardening in its inflated state. Elsewhere, in the meantime, house prices are down as much as 40+%.
The laws of supply and demand do not appear to apply. On any given Sunday anywhere in Arlington or Alexandria, the sidewalks are flooded with Open House signs. So there is no shortage of properties on the market -- on the contrary, it is flooded. Yet the prices remain sky-high. The best explanation I could come up with was that these properties are being sold not by residents who need to move, but by investors who are trying to cut their losses. I don't know if this is enough of an explanation, but thank goodness there is no house exchange the way there is a stock exchange, and that you still have to find a specific buyer for every house you are trying to sell. On the other hand, maybe the prices would have dropped noticeably if we did have such an exchange, and you could simply make a phone call and sell your house(s). Just look at the stock market.
Further insanity: while doing the final walk-through of our new condo before closing, our agent casually mentioned that the previous weekend, another client of hers offered the asking price with no contingencies on a property, an did not get it because there were four other offers. I've got your bubble right here, for anyone who's looking. I consider ourselves lucky -- our process was so normal, I felt like I was back in the sixties.
You would think that the subprime debacle and the generally sad state our banks are supposed to be in would inject some sobriety into the mortgage market. Yet the first lender we contacted, after hearing my unofficial (but accurate) account of our financial situation, literally offered to lend us an order of magnitude more than what we were comfortable borrowing. J. and I do ok, income-wise, but we are not Beverly Hills plastic surgeons, for heavens' sakes! Are these mortgage people insane? The modest (by these people's calculation) amount we did end up borrowing is a huge commitment for us, far more than we ever paid in rent, and they were perfectly willing to let us pay thousands and thousands more every month? Why have they not learned their lesson? Yes, I know, we are a good credit risk. But this was off the scale! And this lender was supposed to have been a solvent, responsible one who did not take any bailout money. We went with someone else.
No matter how hard you look, you never find all the problems in a place you're considering until after you've bought it. And a home inspection is designed to detect major problems, not minor headaches. Furthermore, even minor headaches look worse after you've been looking at them for a while. Net result -- J. and I spent the last three days painting our living room. And that's after I had to deal with the consequences of the previous owners' inept picture hanging jobs. Now the hallway looks disgusting by comparison, so we have to paint that, too. We're paying more money than we did in rent, yet have to do our own painting. How does that make any sense? At least everything we found so far is, indeed, very minor. Let's hope it stays that way.
We have some old furniture to give away -- shelves, a desk with a matching printer stand, a coffee table/end table set, and a drop-leaf dining table. None particularly nice (least of all the dining table), but all usable. Free to friends -- contact me if interested.
J. and I finally took the plunge and bought a dwelling of our own. So our largely debt-free and carefree existence is over. Scary time to buy real estate in this economy, but our guiding principle was that a house is no different than any other big-ticket item -- you buy one when you need one. So we are now the proud own... er, make that residents of a lovely two-bedroom condo, owned by the people who lent us the money to buy it.
The local real estate market makes less sense than ever. Everyone acknowledges that at the height of the real estate bubble, the prices were obscene, here no less than elsewhere in the US (more, if anything), yet they are down no more than 3% from their height. In desirable neighborhoods at least. The bubble does not appear to have burst -- on the contrary, it appears to be hardening in its inflated state. Elsewhere, in the meantime, house prices are down as much as 40+%.
The laws of supply and demand do not appear to apply. On any given Sunday anywhere in Arlington or Alexandria, the sidewalks are flooded with Open House signs. So there is no shortage of properties on the market -- on the contrary, it is flooded. Yet the prices remain sky-high. The best explanation I could come up with was that these properties are being sold not by residents who need to move, but by investors who are trying to cut their losses. I don't know if this is enough of an explanation, but thank goodness there is no house exchange the way there is a stock exchange, and that you still have to find a specific buyer for every house you are trying to sell. On the other hand, maybe the prices would have dropped noticeably if we did have such an exchange, and you could simply make a phone call and sell your house(s). Just look at the stock market.
Further insanity: while doing the final walk-through of our new condo before closing, our agent casually mentioned that the previous weekend, another client of hers offered the asking price with no contingencies on a property, an did not get it because there were four other offers. I've got your bubble right here, for anyone who's looking. I consider ourselves lucky -- our process was so normal, I felt like I was back in the sixties.
You would think that the subprime debacle and the generally sad state our banks are supposed to be in would inject some sobriety into the mortgage market. Yet the first lender we contacted, after hearing my unofficial (but accurate) account of our financial situation, literally offered to lend us an order of magnitude more than what we were comfortable borrowing. J. and I do ok, income-wise, but we are not Beverly Hills plastic surgeons, for heavens' sakes! Are these mortgage people insane? The modest (by these people's calculation) amount we did end up borrowing is a huge commitment for us, far more than we ever paid in rent, and they were perfectly willing to let us pay thousands and thousands more every month? Why have they not learned their lesson? Yes, I know, we are a good credit risk. But this was off the scale! And this lender was supposed to have been a solvent, responsible one who did not take any bailout money. We went with someone else.
No matter how hard you look, you never find all the problems in a place you're considering until after you've bought it. And a home inspection is designed to detect major problems, not minor headaches. Furthermore, even minor headaches look worse after you've been looking at them for a while. Net result -- J. and I spent the last three days painting our living room. And that's after I had to deal with the consequences of the previous owners' inept picture hanging jobs. Now the hallway looks disgusting by comparison, so we have to paint that, too. We're paying more money than we did in rent, yet have to do our own painting. How does that make any sense? At least everything we found so far is, indeed, very minor. Let's hope it stays that way.
We have some old furniture to give away -- shelves, a desk with a matching printer stand, a coffee table/end table set, and a drop-leaf dining table. None particularly nice (least of all the dining table), but all usable. Free to friends -- contact me if interested.
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