I wanted to mention this dream I had the other night

The day before yesterday, I spent much of my free time catching up on Somewhere on the Masthead. Magazine Man’s posts are nice and long and I usually want to give them my full attention (because they rule), and due to how busy/disconnected I’ve been lately I ended up reading about 12 posts at once.

Because I was lodged firmly in Magazine Man World, he ended up in my dream that night. I dreamed that he found out about our apartment fire, and, to make me feel better, altered his subscriptions to some architectural magazines so that they would come to me instead of him. The thing was, the magazines still had his full name and address printed on them. (For some reason, in my dream he lived in Boston, when all evidence I’ve seen points to him living somewhere near NYC.)

This was monumental to me. Magazine Man is a mystery, as faithful readers know. He’s an editor for a huge national magazine, but he won’t tell us (straight out) who he is. At first this was for dooce reasons, but as time has gone on he’s dropped more and more clues, enough that two people have figured out who he is. At this point I don’t think he cares if people know, but he’s maintaining the mystery for fun.

At any rate, to me, in the dream, his revealing his identity to me was the supreme act of kindness. Sure, the architecture magazines were cool, but it was the fact that he didn’t worry about his secret identity when he decided to help me that really made it special. It was like he was letting me in on his secret.

Of course, I guess there’s something like pity in an action like that, but you know what? I want to be pitied. This is just like when I was recovering from cancer and I went around telling everyone about it. It’s apparently how I deal with trauma.

Don’t worry, I’ll get over it.

In the meantime, if it’s getting too depressing for you all over here, check out Somewhere on the Masthead. It’s always good for either a laugh or happy tears (or both).

Ugh

Feel kinda crappy today. I’ve been eating way too much, and all the wrong foods…and I’ve been drinking a lot of sodas with caffeine in them. Need to stop that.

I’m supposed to get a new bike at the end of the month, and that will help.

Yesterday I found a nice house: 3 bedroom, 2 1/2 bath, 2 story, with a fenced-in backyard and a patio. It’s all brick and has carpet, vinyl, and wood flooring. This is all from the ad; I really can’t say anything about the interior or the yard because all I could see was the front. But it’s really pretty; it’s got a wraparound front porch, and the brick is kind of a warm brown/orange color that’s rather comforting. It’s on a cul-de-sac, which means less traffic, and it’s in a subdivision near where Sean’s parents live, which means it’s decently convenient to both our jobs.

I showed the Internet listing to Sean and he said, “I don’t have a problem with that.”

Now I just have to hope that it doesn’t sell before next week, which would be the time we could get a NACA-certified real estate agent to show it to us. (I would ask one of the many agents I’ve been referred to, but I don’t want them to feel used if we go the NACA route. They would make no money and I would feel like a heel.)

I don’t know if it’s the right house, but there’s something very nice about it. I at least want the chance to see the whole thing.

Suddenly I’m falling apart

I guess that “delayed mourning” thing is really kicking in…I left the internship early today so I could be alone in the house for a change, and because I couldn’t concentrate and wasn’t getting anything done. Then I pretty much cried the whole way home.

I stopped at Springhouse. They wouldn’t let me into the apartment, of course. I don’t know what I was thinking. That I’d sneak in? I was told to talk to the apartment manager, so I did. She said they wouldn’t know if they could recover anything until the demolition guys evaluated the situation, and they don’t know when that’ll be because they haven’t even made an appointment with the demolition guys yet. She said they’d call. I don’t know if I trust them to do that, given their history.

I feel like I should try to resign myself to losing all my writing. It’s the writing that really got me, beyond even the pictures. I just want my hard drive. But if they can’t even, like, rake the debris out of the structure and let me sort through it…maybe I should just give up now and stop hoping.

I’m tired of these situations. I’m tired of life telling me to give up on my hopes.

I have a horrible headache right now. Earlier I felt like I was going to throw up. Now I just want to turn off my brain and hide from life.

"Delayed mourning"

That’s what I called it when Cheryl asked me what was wrong. It’s about the stupidest phrase ever, because it makes no sense.

“Mourning? Over what?”

“My apartment burned down,” I said. By this time I was struggling not to cry.

Cheryl launched into a speech about how nobody could do anything about that, and she wished she could but she couldn’t. All I could think was Duh, so you shouldn’t have pressed me about it. Why couldn’t you have just left me alone? But I just nodded and did my best not to start wailing in the middle of the stupid driveway. “Why today? What’s wrong?” she said.

“Yesterday they said that people couldn’t go in and get their stuff because it was too dangerous, and I’d been hoping my hard drive would be in there, and everything I’ve ever written was on it.” I was being brief because I was about to burst into tears, especially there towards the end.

“Nobody’s found anything?”

“I haven’t heard anything.”

“Cry, honey, just cry,” Cheryl said. I did not want to cry. She started saying the usual crap about letting it out. Well, that’s great and all, but I want to cry on my own terms. That’s why I was out in the middle of the driveway in the first place. I was trying to move stuff around, to exert control over my environment. I was trying to get rid of the clothes that people had donated that didn’t fit or weren’t quite our style. I had been going to put them in my car, and Cheryl had followed me outside because she’d meant one box for the Abilene Church. And then she’d just sunk her teeth into me until I was struggling to keep from collapsing.

I’m not the type to bawl in front of other people. I’ve done it, but I don’t choose to. I did not want to cry in front of Cheryl. There’s nothing wrong with her, and I love her, but I did not want to cry in front of her. But she kept telling me to.

“I’ll do it later,” I said. She finally backed down and we put the box of clothes in the garage. Then a neighbor appeared and I was able to escape.

I cried a little in the bathroom and in the guest bedroom, but it wasn’t enough. I just can’t cry here. It’s not my space.

Maybe sometime tomorrow I will drive off somewhere private and cry in my car.

Losing my writing

There were short stories on my hard drive that I hadn’t put on the web anywhere. None of them was finished, and none of them was particularly good. The first novel I ever tried to write was there, an epic fantasy in two parts (yes, I was writing a fantasy series…hahaha), and so was the other novel, the one about the bald guy and the conspiracy.

It occurs to me that losing them might be a good thing, because now I’m unfettered by the actual writing I did those years ago. I only have the ideas. Maybe I can turn them into something worthwhile now that I don’t have my prior, fumbling attempts to restrain me.

The book I tried to write last November was also there, and I removed it from this site…and unlike those older things, this one actually had relatively decent writing.

Thank goodness for the Wayback Machine. At least I still have the last (and weakest) chapter…

Another update (I forgot to mention something)

Last night we went to a get-together at Springhouse for all the residents affected by the fire. The firemen came too. Unfortunately, Sean and I didn’t see many people, as the office at Springhouse didn’t inform us of the time of the party until the middle of the day. They called my phone and left voicemail that it was at 6. I don’t get phone service out at work, so I didn’t get the message until 6:10.

:>

Sean, on the other hand, was still at work when I called to tell him about the call. He hurried home and we went over there, arriving about an hour “late”. This after being asked repeatedly to please come because they wanted to do something special. It would have been nice to give the guest of honor (our hero Sean Meadows, who pulled a fire alarm) more warning about the time of the party.

In any event, he got a goofy-looking certificate that said something like “Good Job Award” and we ate some WifeSaver. Mmm, chicken.

We did learn something important, though: apparently it’s so dangerous in the burned-out building that even people whose homes were barely touched aren’t allowed to salvage their perfectly unscathed items. They won’t let anyone go in there. So the chances of our recovering our hard drives just went from “minimal” to “no chance in hell”.

Bleh.

Update

So many people have been so generous to us. Thanks to the kindness of Sean’s parents in allowing us to stay with them, we are able to save the majority of our salaries, as well as all the money we’ve been given by our wonderful friends and families. This means that we should have enough money in a few months to get a place to live and replace most of the things we lost. It’s not perfect, but it’s far better than it could have been.

We currently have laptops and an Internet connection, and some of our friends have ordered replacement goodies from the Amazon list. We’re planning to get me a new bicycle at the end of the month. Several people have offered us furniture, and many of them are able to hold on to the pieces until we get a place to live. At this point, due to kind donations and gift cards, we no longer have need of clothes.

If there’s anyone out there who still wants to help in some way (though I really can’t imagine that–we’ve already been given so much), money is probably the best option at this point, because it takes up the least amount of space. However, I still feel funny asking people for money, so the other thing you can do is just wait until we get a house and then buy something from the Amazon list.

We want to thank everyone who has given us gifts. You’ve helped us more than we could ever express. We have just been overwhelmed by the amazing outpouring of love and generosity. Thank you all so much.

Lunch at the beach

If I leave work to the right, pass the way home, and drive for awhile, I end up reaching a bridge over part of the sprawling J. Strom Thurmond/Clarks Hill Lake. There’s a boat ramp just past the bridge to the right. I’ve stopped for lunch there before.

Today I decided to go there because I didn’t feel like driving all the way down to the longer bridge, the one that has two roads leading down to the water. I just wanted to eat and relax–but I didn’t want to go to the Historical Park, because I just went there yesterday.

I was expecting to just park in the shade and stand around staring down the boat ramp at the lake. But when I pulled in this time I noticed that there was a little road leading away from the ramp. Being a curious little bugger, I drove up to it. There was a sign there reading: “Park open April 1 to November 1”.

Public property! I drove down the skinny winding road…and discovered a beach.

shot while standing in water

It was so gorgeous that after I ate lunch at one of the many picnic tables scattered around the woods, I had to take my shoes and socks off and splash in the water.

I'm pretty pale, aren't I?

It was just so nice. I had a lovely lunch.

maple leaf floating in the waterme acting cutesy

Now I’m trying to figure out the logistics of going for a swim over my lunch break. I’ll need a swimsuit, a towel, and probably a shower cap to keep my hair dry…

Zzzz…

Yes, I’m a wuss. I’m not used to getting up at 7 am every day. I’ve done just that for seven days in a row now. That plus the hourlong commute and the sudden burden of having to do creative work all day (I had no idea how tiring that would be) have resulted in a very sleepy Heather.

I’m very lucky to be here. I just need to stay focused and charged up as best as I can.

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Photos!

I just discovered that 52 (of the approximately 75 hojillion) honeymoon pictures are still in my Photoworks account (along with the wedding pictures I’d had prints made of, and some pictures from Logan’s birth). It’s not all the honeymoon pictures, and I have no idea if I can get the full-size images back from Photoworks, but at least they’re there, and I can download them at 800×600, and order prints!

For your viewing pleasure, here’s one of my favorite shots, of an old man and a deer walking through Nara Park:

old man and deer out for a stroll

Satellite images of Katrina damage

I have to admit, what with dealing with losing all my possessions and trying to adjust to living with the in-laws and getting used to my new job, I haven’t been extraordinarily attentive to the situation in the Gulf. It’s been in my periphery–I was aware on an academic level that things were terrible, but I had never truly comprehended.

This totally blew my mind.

Just look at that. Zoom in on it. The houses are like little islands in a sea. Look at the bridge surfacing out of the lake that is New Orleans, then slipping back under the water.

It’s horrific.

(And yes, it is much worse than what I’ve been through, as several people have mentioned.)

I have a friend who was living in Biloxi, MS last I heard. I don’t know what the situation is in that city, or even if she is still there. Margaret, I have no idea if you ever read this thing, but if you’re out there I’d appreciate a note–I’ve lost your email address.

Three reasons to be cheerful

John Kovalic thinks he’s starting a meme. I found it via Wil Wheaton.

Anyway, listing things that make me cheerful would be a nice thing to do right about now, so here I go.

1) Thinking about how the people we love have reacted to our apartment fire. This is the biggest one because it’s at the forefront of my mind. Everyone has been so generous and wonderful. It’s overwhelming and humbling and it just makes me feel so loved.

2) Water. Lakes, streams, creeks, ponds, waterfalls, the ocean…I love water. I’ve said it before a zillion times, and I’ll say it again: water rejuvenates me.

3) Looking at Sean. I love to just watch him. He has the cutest smile ever. I won’t get into the other things I love to watch too specifically, because I’m sure you’re all groaning already, and I don’t want you to have to vomit too. Let’s just leave it at this: my husband is the most attractive man in the world.

There. Hmm, I am feeling pretty cheerful :)

Home ownership for cheap

Sean and I attended a preliminary workshop for buying a home through the Neighborhood Assistance Corporation of America, or NACA, today. The program offers people the chance to own their own home with no down payment, no application fee, no closing costs, and an interest rate 1% below current market rates. I’d mentioned to a few people that we were going to look into this, only to hear plenty of warnings that there had to be some sort of catch, something they weren’t telling us. It did seem strange. How did they manage to swing that kind of deal? Would you be paying ridiculous amounts of money for your house for the rest of your life?

Actually, no. What they’ve done is rather clever. NACA, a nonprofit organization, is an advocacy group that has been trying to reveal how banks take advantage of people, and offer an alternative. They have managed to do the latter through a combination of lobbying the government and negotiating with individual financial institutions. If you look at their timeline, you’ll see how they’ve gone to “war” with several well-known banks.

The nuts and bolts of the system they’ve negotiated is the root of the whole thing, and what convinced us that this isn’t some sort of elaborate scam.

The main thing NACA does is get the bank to take care of the majority of your up-front fees, including the down payment and most of the closing costs. The bank also agrees to a base interest rate of 1% below the market rate for NACA members.

The savvy thing to do, and what NACA highly encourages, is to put money towards buying “points”–paying down your interest rate from the get-go. This is much easier to do if you don’t have to make a down payment or pay lots of fees. Paying down your interest rate saves you an inordinate amount of money in the long term. Most people end up grossly “upside-down” on their houses by the time they reach the end of their mortgage; the representative said that most 30 year mortgage holders end up paying three times the purchase price due to interest. Knock down that interest rate at the beginning and you can curtail that kind of rampant spending. Or, in NACA verbiage,

The Interest Rate Buy-Down is a tremendous opportunity to increase the Maximum Purchase Price without increasing your Maximum Mortgage Payment. If you do not want to purchase a more expensive home, you can also use the buy-down to reduce your monthly mortgage payment. For each one percent (1%) of the mortgage amount–or “point”–you pay up front, the interest rate is reduced by one-quarter of a percent (.25%) for the life of the mortgage.

This unique option in the NACA program will increase the Maximum Purchase Price much more than using the same amount as a downpayment. You can use any source of funds to pay for the buy-down, including seller contributions, city grants and government programs, employers, unions, other programs, or your own savings.

NACA has apparently helped people get their interest rates down to as low as .5%. That’s one half of a percent! Can you imagine that? :> We probably won’t be that lucky. Sean estimates that we can get ours down to 2.5%, but we won’t really know until we’ve gone through the application process.

Of course, you don’t have to take the option of paying down your interest rate, but that’s what Sean and I plan to do. You’d have to be an idiot not to, if you have some money to throw at it. (You can pay down your interest rate without going through NACA, but your average real estate agent isn’t going to know how to negotiate this, and your average mortgage broker isn’t going to want to do this.)

Now, you might be wondering how exactly this works for the bank. After all, they are trying to make a profit, and if you chop down the interest rate and force them to shoulder the up-front costs, they don’t seem to make as much money. The benefit for the bank, though, is that people who go through NACA’s program are far less likely to default on their loans, because they will have been educated by NACA in how to live on a budget. Another plus is that NACA members are typically in it for the long term; they truly want to own the home they are buying. The bank can therefore count on years and years of steady income, even if it is less than they could get in a higher risk situation. (A final reason that this is appealing to a bank is that it shows they are socially responsible, but as Mr. Christopher said, “How am I supposed to enter that into the ledger?”)

The buyer covers the “pre-paids”/escrows, and the bank covers the rest as part of its deal with NACA–in other words, the other fees are negotiated into the mortgage. NACA works with you every step of the way, first getting you to work out a realistic budget, getting you approved for your loan, helping you find a house, and helping you pay the interest rate down if you choose to. A young couple came into the workshop today and gave testimonials that indicated the process was extremely easy, completely unlike most home purchasing horror stories.

One other important benefit of NACA is its “NSF”, or Neighborhood Stabilization Fund. When you buy a house and borrow over 80% of its value, you are typically required by the lender to purchase Private Mortgage Insurance. This insurance does nothing for you–it just ensures that the lender will be paid if something happens and you can’t make a payment. You, however, typically end up putting out a “For Sale” sign if that happens. With NACA, when something happens and you can’t make a payment, you can meet with the NSF committee and plead your case, and if you’re approved, NACA will dip into the NSF and make your payments for you until you’re back on your feet. The NSF costs NACA members $50 a month for the first 5 to 10 years of their mortgage; PMI insurance can cost upwards of $200 a month. Both ensure that the lender gets paid, but the NSF also ensures that the homeowner gets to keep the house. You can apply for NSF benefits for as long as you own the home.

Here’s a breakdown, taken from the Home Buyer’s Workbook:

NACA Program Features

  • No down payment
  • No closing costs
  • No fees
  • No yield spread premium
  • No pre-payment penalty
  • No balloon payment
  • No required credit life or other unnecessary and overpriced insurance
  • one-on-one financial and credit counseling

NACA Program Fine Print

  • No member of the household can have an ownership interest in any other property.
  • You must occupy the home for as long as you have the mortgage through NACA.
  • You must contribute to the NSF.
  • You must participate in at least five “Actions and Activities” per year in support of NACA’s mission.

For the Augusta region, which includes the priority areas of Richmond, Columbia, and Aiken counties and the city of Savannah, the maximum purchase price for a single family home is currently $172,632. Any NACA “Qualified Members” can purchase homes in the priority areas, and those with “low and moderate income” can purchase in additional areas.

So far, this thing seems to be a very good deal. We’ll be meeting with the coordinator on September 22 to discuss the matter further. Hopefully this will mean we can save a lot of money and get a really nice house. We’d have to pay off our house before using it as a rental property (unless we wanted to rent out a room while we were still living in it), but that’s not a big deal to us right now.

As a nonprofit organization, NACA doesn’t have much money to spend on advertising, which is why you may not have heard of it. NACA depends on its members to spread the word, via postcards, flyers, word of mouth, anything. I figure this nice mention on my website should count towards one of the five advocacy activities we’re required to do per year as members of the program. ;>