BulgingButtons

Not bad for a fat girl


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A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Complacency

real_estate_graphic__sold_sign_1339735192689I was all set to “love it” since I already tried to “list it” and didn’t have any takers. I’m talking about my house, of course, and the premise of the HGTV series “Love It or List It.”

The idea is to challenge homeowners who are fed up with their homes and are ready for change. The show is filmed with couples, one who wants to stay and make changes, the other who wants to cut bait and move on. One host does a home remodel to try to fix the home’s issues while the other host takes the couple house hunting. After the reveal they have to decide whether they’ll “love it” and stay, or “list it” and move. I’ve seen it turn out both ways.

As I said, I was set to love it. I was ready to settle in and start picking out new tile to replace the original tile, which is starting to crack in places. I was set to decide on new carpet for the bedrooms, and I was ready to research granite counter top options. Moving just didn’t seem to be in the cards.

Then, out of the blue, it happened. I got an offer. A real offer. One that would allow me to make the move into the type of home I was after. One that was a little bigger. One that was a little closer to work. One that wouldn’t be across the street from a multi-family dwelling community. I accepted. Woo Hoo!

The house wasn’t even on the market anymore. I had taken it off three days prior. The couple buying it had seen in but just weren’t sure. By the time they made up their minds, I was already feeling like it wasn’t meant to be. Apparently I was wrong. Although I don’t want to jinx it. Let’s just wait until the ink is dry on all the mountains of paperwork before we celebrate too much. Still, I’m out of complacency mode and on to moving mode.

This should be an entirely new chapter of the seemingly endless saga of “sell this house.” I hope it’s a good one. Stay tuned to find out.


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Check Me Out – But Not Too Closely

Blog stats are a funny thing. They can give a blogger a sense of what people are interested in reading, and they can practically make a blogger (ok, me) giddy when they spike. I want to be read! I also get a kick out of checking out the map. I enjoy it when people from far-flung places visit, even if I suspect the majority of them aren’t actually reading the content.

That being said, I still have to write content that’s worth reading. My dear readers, I know I’ve been missing that mark more times than hitting it lately. What can I say, other than, I’m sorry? I promise to try harder.

Still, you continue to hang with me, and some of you are even getting out your tool belts and rolling up your sleeves to dig around BulgingButtons to unearth some oldies but goodies. I think it’s often the catchy titles that attract readers to start with. Some of the posts with the most hits have odd titles, like “Goodbye Zebra Mules,” and “The Devil, Karma, and Frito Pie.” Hopefully, though, you enjoy more than just the title.

Hopefully you enjoy reading about my daily ups and downs, and the perils of being a fat girl in a skinny (or desperately trying to be skinny) world. stained-shirt-300x225Today’s fat girl problem: the shelf. You know, that place along the boob line where dropped food always seems to hit before careening off into the unknown (or just settling there).

As I write, I am wearing yet another shirt with a stain along the shelf. Why? Because salad dressing stains. Yes, I got it on myself while I was at lunch with my friend. The food never goes straight down when it falls off the fork (and why exactly does it fall off the fork in the first place? I don’t know). It invariably hits the shelf and leaves a tell-tale mark, which, 90% of the time leaves a stain.

This is why fat women wear prints. The stains are far less noticeable on a print than they are on a field of solid lavender (like the shirt I have most recently stained). This is also why this fat girl hates to spend much on shirts or dresses. About 1 in 5 never make it past the first wearing. 20% people! This is a distressingly high statistic. It’s alarming, really.

What can be done? I don’t know. A better fork? Less messy food? IV fluids only? It seems like there are some options out there. This problem needs a solution, and it needs it fast, because I’m running out of clothes, and I really don’t want to go shopping.

 


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Pulling the Plug

nfs_lg-300x178Enough already. I tried. I really did. I cleaned, I feng shui-ed, I put in flowers, I made attractive flyers, I staged, I did it all. I’m done. I’m throwing in the towel. This house is NOT for sale. The May mantra is no longer “sell this house.” Now it has become “love this home.”

I wanted to sell. I wanted to make the change for several reasons, but never because I didn’t like my house or neighborhood. I like both, I can afford my home, and I’m staying.

My timing was off. Selling during construction season is to be avoided at all costs, believe me. The further along the construction progresses, the scarier it is to potential buyers. Nobody is biting, and prices in my area, and others, are dropping.

At this point, the type of home I would be able to afford wouldn’t make the move worthwhile. I’d rather stay here and make some changes. After all, I do have some equity in the house, and some ideas about what I’d like to do here.

Now that I’ve made this decision, I feel like a weight has been lifted. I won’t constantly check my phone, afraid that I’ve missed a call from some realtor who wants to set up a showing. I won’t run around every morning like a chicken with its head cut off making sure that every little thing is exactly perfect. I won’t wonder who might be in my home. I feel better already.

Tomorrow the sign comes out of the yard, and I start to relax in my own home again. I can honestly say, I’m looking forward to it.