I am SO overwhelmed. Seriously. There is just whelm all over the place. I have had to handle so many adult type things in the past few weeks! Combine that with a major drama (I shall not name names or even get into it but let’s just say that the person with whom the drama belongs is related to me and, you know, exists mostly because of me, and who has maybe heard the phrase “I brought you into this world and I’ll take you right out!”) and you will understand that I am perilously close to retreating to a corner to just chew on the ends of my hair and babble incoherently.
Adult! Stuff! ALSO not my fault. No. That is the fault of yet ANOTHER relative of mine. Oh let’s name names, shall we? My Mother.
See, I had a plan! And it was ever so good and smart and well put together. The plan went thusly (and isn’t that a great word?):
1. Put house on market
2. Sell house
3. Roll naked in cash from sale of house (kidding)
4. Put cash in a safe-from-shoe-shopping storage type place
5. Find condo of dreams
6. Demand fabulous pricing and move in immediately
Do you see how beautiful that is? Are you loving my plan? You are, aren’t you? I knew you would. Alas! And alack! And alarm! And any other cautionary type words that may or may not begin with “al!” The beautiful plan, also known as “Do Not Fall In Love With A Condo Until You Actually Sell Your Home” was destroyed.
What? You want an explanation? What is it with you and the explanations? You are so demanding lately. Always with the demands.
Ok. So here’s the thing. My poor mother…I am such a disappointment to her. First there was that whole leaving home at age 14 bit. Then there was the teenaged mom at 17 bit. And if you have been reading along for awhile then you are maybe possibly aware of the fact that HELLO! 37 and never married! The poor woman has basically given up on me and relegated herself to focusing on my brother who is fabulous and successful and has a gorgeous home and travels extensively and has a wonderful wife and perfect son and who gives her ever so many stories of goodness and pride to share with her friends during “Oh yeah? Well my child….” type conversations.
Hi! So in a backpedaling of self esteem moment I called her up and asked her to spend a day with me. I told her I wanted to take her to St. Paul for the day and show her around the city. A quick explanation for those of you not familiar with the Twin Cities: If you are from Minneapolis or its many suburbs you may NEVER set foot in St. Paul or its many suburbs and vice versa. I do not know why. They are right next to each other. It’s just How It Is. Ok? (Again with your need for explanations…)
So I decided to be all grown up and share my world with her.
What I said: “Hi, Mom? It’s me. Umm, Wendy? So I was wondering if you might want to go to St. Paul? Together? With me? And you know see where I work? And why I’m so in love with the city? And I could take you to lunch and to see condos? And stuff?”
What I meant: “Like ME! Find interest in ME! See something that matters to ME! Love ME!” Because I am 2 years old.
So. She said yes! (She kinda had to because this was also presented as her Mother’s day gift. Why yes you’ve won a day with your daughter! Aren’t you ever so lucky?) And so we set a date and I picked her up and spirited her over to the other side of the river…where nary a Minneapolis type will ever go…
And we had fun! And she played along and was so cute and sweet! And she saw the charm of my city and loved the office and adored our little lunch bit and thought the river was ever so enchanting and we both tried to be oh so smiley and fun. And we were maybe manic with the whole “AREN’T WE FUN AND CUTE AND MOTHER DAUGHTERY” bit by the time we started condo shopping.
Remember my plan? That whole “don’t fall in love til you sell your current house” bit? Well I was following that! I cleverly decided to only show my Mother condos that I’d already looked at and wasn’t remotely interested in, or that were ridiculously outside of my price range anyways. Mom loves house/condo viewing so I knew she’d enjoy this. We stomped around to a number of condos and alternately “oohed” and “aaahed” or got snarky about prices and architecture.
And then it happened. And this was So. Not. My. Fault.
My “we are so much fun together!” mom and I stomped in to check out a loft in Lowertown. I gushed my hellos at the realtor and introduced my hip and ever so trendy Madre. Jana showed us all the lofts I’d already decided were not for me. Mom was in love, but also keyed into the fact that these just weren’t me. Not nearly enough light or openness. We were about to say our goodbyes when Jana did an about face…
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed. “I just realized that I have never shown you the one on the top floor! I can’t believe I didn’t think of that unit. It’s everything you said you needed…weird, different, fun, unique! I think it’s even close to the price range you needed to be in.”
“Oh,” I began nervously, “You know that’s ok. Mom and I have been through so many condos today and I think we’re rea…”
“What on earth do you mean?” my Mother interrupted, “Wendy, she just said it’s perfect for you. Let’s go see.”
Y’all see where this is going? You do don’t you? Of course you do. And yet you want an explanation again, don’t you?
Jana took us up to the top floor and unlocked The Unit. We gracefully stepped inside and then all hell broke loose.
“Oh MY GOD! This is PERFECT! This is EVERYTHING that could EVER be needed or wanted or desired and ohmygodwouldyoujustlookatthatview?! Oh and exposed brick! Timbers! Duct work! Granite countertops! Good LORD are those 25 foot ceilings I see?!?!”
Hmm? Oh you think that’s me quoted above? No. Oh no. That was THE MOTHER talking. I whimpered to myself as Mom continued to wax poetically about how “divinely perfectly Wendy” the whole place was. Jana and I stood at the door to the condo and listened patiently as Mom’s voice began to echo down to us from the 2 nd story of the loft.
“So. Umm this place just got really expensive didn’t it?” I asked quietly.
“Why yes,” Jana responded. “Yes it did. But of course it’s perfect for you so what’s in a price?”
Truth be told you couldn’t design a more perfect place for me. I mean really. Smack dab in the center of this place is a wrought iron spiral staircase to an open 2 nd level. From there you can walk out onto a huge private patio on the rooftop that overlooks Mears Park. Heaven! Bliss! Open! Airy! Ever so much sunlight! *sob*
I will DIE. DIE if I don’t get this place.
And so began the last few weeks of adult style details and hellishness. I simply can not blog about it all right now. I. Am. Too. Stressed. But really. Stay tuned. There is ever so much more to tell you about. But to finish this particular day…
I wrote a ridiculous check for the restraining order. (Ok, so technically it’s called a contingency but I prefer to think of it as a means of telling any and all other potential buyers to STAY AT LEAST 50 FEET AWAY FROM MY DAMNED CONDO.) Ahem.
Mom and I hit the sidewalk amidst a flurry of “What? What did I do?” comments from her. I explained the value of not letting the realtor know how perfect a place is and she just said, “Oh. Oops?”
Yeah. We’re related.