Well, thanks to the generosity of hubby's old school pal, we're good to go. The gift (and it is a gift, not a loan) came out of the blue. Old friend said it was for "gas money for all those rides back in high school, plus interest."
Whew. After the devastating screwing we took from my half-sister Cory, I wasn't sure we were going to make it. Eternal gratitude, you know?
Gotta say, though, that moving out here is a markedly different affair. In Utah, a grand and some friends with a truck was enough to get you into a nicer place. No deposits for utilities, no hassling with HOAs. You just moved. Out here?
Holy COW! We're moving FIVE miles from our current place, and it's ALL new utility companies. All new utility companies and each one has a hefty deposit. That was an unforeseen expense. Plus, the landlord won't sign the new lease until the utilities are turned on. But the utilities refuse to turn on unless we can provide a copy of the signed lease. Which we can't until the utilities are turned on. Yes, Laurel and Hardy would be proud.
Add to that the parking situation there. Unlike in Utah (or our current place, to be fair), it was simple--here's your spot. New place? Two spots, BUT we must have two CARS in order to have them. One car? Only one decal, which means our guests can't use our spare spot. They WILL tow. Plus, we can't park there until we have the decal (fifty bucks!), and we can't have the decal until we can show our car's registration and our driver's licenses with THAT address. No, a change of address card won't do--they want a photocopy of the new licenses. That's forty bucks for the two of us.
Or eighty, if hubby messes up and they send new licenses with the OLD address. Which is exactly what happened.
The landlord has gone silent again. So has the real estate agent. The fear, of course, is that they're looking to make the move-out a mess so they can hang onto the deposit. Called the landlord and asked if the cleaning (doesn't need it, carpet was stained and dog-pill smelling when we moved in) and deflea/detick treatment (doesn't need it, we don't have fleas and ticks) company we chose was okay. No answer. Called (and emailed) to let them know our move-out date. No answer. Zero help.
And speaking of zero help, I don't think I'll be able to resist letting the real estate agent representing the landlord know what a dead-beat, lazy, uncaring, shmoozy, glad-handing, insincere creep he is. See, when the landlord announced that we were out, he promised his agent would definitely find us a new place. But when Skeezo (who insists his name is FRENCH, not MEXICAN!) came over, he made it very clear that he wouldn't. Told us, in no uncertain terms, that there was NO way ANY real estate agent would EVER represent us because of our credit, that we needed to "try Craigslist" because nothing with an MLS# would ever be open to us. He was VERY clear about this. Of course, he became very clear about this once we made it clear we weren't shopping for a mortgage. Conveniently, his wife is a mortgage broker. I'm sure that had nothing to do with it.
So we went into this disaster scared to death--not only did we not have the cash, but a guy who should have provided us with accurate information, a guy whose words should have been reliable, told us we didn't have a hope in hell of getting a nice place unless we stumbled across a private landlord on Craigslist.
Thing is, he lied. Flat out. First MLS listed property we viewed, the real estate agent practically begged to represent us. Even knowing what our credit is like. And the first property we applied for?
We got.
So, yeah. I won't go out of my way to slam the bastard, but when we're in the market to buy? We won't be buying from him. And should anyone ask for a recommend? The woman who got us into our new place gets the recommend. And Mr. "French, not Mexican?" I won't refrain from telling folks just what crap treatment we got from him. Just how lazy, uncaring, uninterested, and disingenuous he was.
No doubt.
Gonna try something now, see if it works:
Whew. After the devastating screwing we took from my half-sister Cory, I wasn't sure we were going to make it. Eternal gratitude, you know?
Gotta say, though, that moving out here is a markedly different affair. In Utah, a grand and some friends with a truck was enough to get you into a nicer place. No deposits for utilities, no hassling with HOAs. You just moved. Out here?
Holy COW! We're moving FIVE miles from our current place, and it's ALL new utility companies. All new utility companies and each one has a hefty deposit. That was an unforeseen expense. Plus, the landlord won't sign the new lease until the utilities are turned on. But the utilities refuse to turn on unless we can provide a copy of the signed lease. Which we can't until the utilities are turned on. Yes, Laurel and Hardy would be proud.
Add to that the parking situation there. Unlike in Utah (or our current place, to be fair), it was simple--here's your spot. New place? Two spots, BUT we must have two CARS in order to have them. One car? Only one decal, which means our guests can't use our spare spot. They WILL tow. Plus, we can't park there until we have the decal (fifty bucks!), and we can't have the decal until we can show our car's registration and our driver's licenses with THAT address. No, a change of address card won't do--they want a photocopy of the new licenses. That's forty bucks for the two of us.
Or eighty, if hubby messes up and they send new licenses with the OLD address. Which is exactly what happened.
The landlord has gone silent again. So has the real estate agent. The fear, of course, is that they're looking to make the move-out a mess so they can hang onto the deposit. Called the landlord and asked if the cleaning (doesn't need it, carpet was stained and dog-pill smelling when we moved in) and deflea/detick treatment (doesn't need it, we don't have fleas and ticks) company we chose was okay. No answer. Called (and emailed) to let them know our move-out date. No answer. Zero help.
And speaking of zero help, I don't think I'll be able to resist letting the real estate agent representing the landlord know what a dead-beat, lazy, uncaring, shmoozy, glad-handing, insincere creep he is. See, when the landlord announced that we were out, he promised his agent would definitely find us a new place. But when Skeezo (who insists his name is FRENCH, not MEXICAN!) came over, he made it very clear that he wouldn't. Told us, in no uncertain terms, that there was NO way ANY real estate agent would EVER represent us because of our credit, that we needed to "try Craigslist" because nothing with an MLS# would ever be open to us. He was VERY clear about this. Of course, he became very clear about this once we made it clear we weren't shopping for a mortgage. Conveniently, his wife is a mortgage broker. I'm sure that had nothing to do with it.
So we went into this disaster scared to death--not only did we not have the cash, but a guy who should have provided us with accurate information, a guy whose words should have been reliable, told us we didn't have a hope in hell of getting a nice place unless we stumbled across a private landlord on Craigslist.
Thing is, he lied. Flat out. First MLS listed property we viewed, the real estate agent practically begged to represent us. Even knowing what our credit is like. And the first property we applied for?
We got.
So, yeah. I won't go out of my way to slam the bastard, but when we're in the market to buy? We won't be buying from him. And should anyone ask for a recommend? The woman who got us into our new place gets the recommend. And Mr. "French, not Mexican?" I won't refrain from telling folks just what crap treatment we got from him. Just how lazy, uncaring, uninterested, and disingenuous he was.
No doubt.
Gonna try something now, see if it works:
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