This Is Long And Kind Of Pointless

So hi, what have you been up to? Me, I've just been flirting with two mortgage companies. Did you know you could do that? I had no idea! Turns out if you decide to go with one mortgage company because it's a better deal and you call the other mortgage company to break up with them, the other mortgage company will suddenly get all macho on you, flex its muscles above its head, and say, in its deepest voice, "I WILL MATCH THAT. HEAR ME ROAR." And then, hey, what do you know, suddenly the other mortgage company is the better deal. Who knew you could do this? We weren't even trying to get the other company to match the credit the first company was going to give us---we were honestly just calling them to say thanks for your help, but we're going with someone else---and then they matched it PLUS MORE, and now I have got to somehow find a way to incorporate this technique into all my everyday interactions. Like, who can I inadvertently bargain with next, you know? "Well, excuse me, Trader Joe's but this goat cheese is only three dollars a pound at Costco. What are you going to do about that?"

Anyway, saving several thousand dollars on closing costs has pretty much been the highlight of my week so far so forgive me if I have precious little to tell you aside from that. I've become the worst sort of boring homeowner drone recently; my 19-year-old self would be appalled. On Friday night, I was stalking this bid I'd made online as the end time of the auction drew closer and closer, and I suddenly had this awful out-of-body experience where I was staring down at myself, finger hovering relentlessly over the refresh button at 9:58pm on a Friday night, and I was like SELF, WHO HAVE YOU BECOME? I mean, it wouldn't have been that bad if I'd been bidding on cute vintage shoes or something, but I was bidding on THE SERVICES OF A CARPENTER. So I guess that answers the question I asked myself: basically, I've become a person who stays home on Friday night to bid obsessively on the services of a carpenter. Rock n'roll! 

Let's change the subject. Otherwise I'm just going to talk your ear off about My First Place, which has recently knocked off HouseHunters for the number one place in my HGTV-loving heart. I even got a message on Twitter from a lovely lady named Kat the other day who told me that My First Place was looking for first-time homebuyers in the Bay Area and at first I was all WE ARE TOTALLY DOING THIS, but then I kind of took a step back from it and thought.....eh, no. At the end of My First Place they always leave the new homeowners a little "surprise" to welcome them to their new house, see, and I just wouldn't be able to keep it together on national TV if the production team had decided to astroturf my walls as a wacky housewarming present.

Oh right, we were changing the subject! Almost forgot. Well, here's a picture of a delicious breakfast my mother made when Sean and I went down to San Diego a few weekends ago.

This was also the weekend that we accepted the counter offer on our house, so it was all kind of fraught with excitement, but also maybe the creeping realization that we would never again be able to do anything fun ever in our lives. I don't know about you, but I find bacon and eggs will help with that.

Here is a picture of Sean and his best friend Tony, who lives in San Diego and who was the best man at our wedding.

Here is what happened when I told them to get a little closer and actually make a convincing show of looking like they like each other, instead of standing like two strangers waiting at a bus stop.

Tony is very tall, which makes Sean look like a 12-year-old. He's also single, ladies. What do you say? Look at those turn-ups!

Here is a picture of the 1957 Bentley my dad bought about 20 years ago from a friend who was selling it. This was going to be our wedding car, but it didn't get shipped over from England until a few weeks later. This was kind of sad to me, as I'd always sort of hoped to be able to ride in it on my wedding day---when else can you ride in a car like this? It's not really what you take when you run out to the grocery store for some milk---but I guess the car we went with in the end was turquoise, so there's that.

As you can see, Sean is in the driver's seat.

Here is a picture of my dad and Sean right before Sean got in the driver's seat. I like to imagine my dad is saying "if you crash this, son, I'm going to rip those pretty eyelashes out one by one, you mark my words, and you will never be welcome in this house for Christmas again." But he's probably just showing him where the brake is.

This is Sean driving. My dad looks a little nervous.

This is me driving. My dad is propping his head up so he doesn't faint from pure fear.

I mean, I can't even drive my stupid Jeep Liberty in San Francisco because I'm too afraid, but somehow this is doable? 

Finally, because there is no cohesive narrative to this post anyway, and I need to wrap it up because I've DVR-ed, like, fifty new episodes of My First Place that I have to get off the DVR before Sean notices, here is a picture of a potato I found that looks like a heart. I mean when else are you going to put up a picture of a potato that looks like a heart, you know?

I think right now. Right now is the perfect time. How crazy is that? I should have strung a chain through it and sold it as a necklace on Etsy.