Did I really get a loan modification or was it some other crap? Because my payment did not get reduced.
Ok, I know I've been thinking of little else and if I chance over to my own blog, I will write of little else as well. My words are of interest to few others than scammers and spammers, that's true.
This mistake has taught me very much about myself, but unfortunately I have no way of moving on. I can't walk away from the house, but I can't make the payment. I can't get a roommate because for some reason people don't want to pay me to live in a house without a working stove and a leaky bathroom sink and termites and a neglected yard.
I spoke with my mortgage company again today. Everybody says, "Talk to your mortgage company, don't ignore them!" They ignore me! I had to call three times before I actually reached someone instead of the call getting dropped. And I can't see how talking to them can help. They have my information. They know how much money I make, where all my money goes, and given that, I can't afford to make the payment. For my part, I know they don't want my payment to be any lower, they "can't" do anything more than all the great favors they did for me a few months ago, and they just want me to give them the date I can bring everything current.
We can't help each other at all.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Did I really get a loan modification or was it some other crap? Because my payment did not get reduced.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
I work all weekend every weekend. I don't have a chance to go to garage sales but that is what I would do if I didn't have to work. So there you have it. Why would a person rather be skulking around garage sales instead of hitting up pottery barn? I don't know! But that's how it is! Perhaps it is all about the mystery and the unexpected rather than the bleeeeeeh yeah that's cool but terribly overpriced.
Anyway it doesn't matter because I don't frequent either of those. I was just sayin' -as tmz would say.
As I was hard at work yesterday, my phone rang. It happened to be from a number that I did not recognize. I figured it was the wrong number.
This morning my phone rang again from the SAME number! I thought it might be some family member or friend who has suddenly moved, so this time I was sure to answer it. But before I even had a chance to say hello, I heard a LOUD, OBNOXIOUS ding dong and then "This is Suntrust Mortgage....." you know the rest. If you don't, just read Grapes of Wrath and that will do you up just fine.
I steadfastly maintained my composure, but this is yet one more sign that the end is beginning.
Poor house. Do you realize that after all these years of being loved by your original owners, some trashy biatch moves in and all of a sudden, you go to shit?
Oh hell. I would like to apologize to the former owner, but seeing as how she is currently surviving in her high-priced assisted living facility on the hundreds of thousands that I have yet to pay, I feel like it will be best to just leave well enough alone. The fucking place was built for less than $15,000 after all. And actually I am glad that she is benefiting from my folly. She lived all through the eighties and nineties and aughts with no dishwasher so she deserves her due. And yes, I am living without a dishwasher too, but come to think of it, the last time I used a dishwasher I was in 11th grade and that was twenty years ago. So I guess that was a really shitty analogy.
Suffice it to say, I am a piece of dung. I can't take care of a home and I am broke and Suntrust has officially fucked me like I deserve to be fucked and soon this house will have broken windows and graffiti all over the place.
In other news, I sold two books on amazon! How sweet is that?
Thursday, December 10, 2009
It was only a matter of time before my car decided enough was enough. I have continued to drive it, ignoring the somewhat violent shake, knowing full well that soon I would have to face the obvious- I can't afford my mortgage.
Earlier this year I applied for a loan modification, and I probably had too much wine late one night and chronicled the results of that fruitless effort. I'm too lazy to go back and read my previous entries, so I will refresh our memories. The mortgage company didn't lower my payment. In fact, it actually increased because somehow, even though the value of my home is only about 30% of what I am paying, my taxes went up! The result of my purchase two years ago of this roof over my head (the shingles of which regularly make an appearance on my lawn and driveway) has been a marked decrease in attention to other costs, like car maintenance.
I bought my car new. It was the first new car I had ever owned, and clearly I have not learned much since then, because I paid too much for that as well. I never missed a payment for FIVE YEARS. I paid STICKER PRICE. I was an idiot, but what did I do? YEARS LATER I bought this house which needed all sorts of work which I don't have the first clue about, plus it was out of my price range. None of it makes any sense. I look back at my poor decisions and I wonder why I did this to myself. I can't explain it, except I simply didn't know at the time that it was a poor decision.
I really did think that my car would retain worth! I really thought that my house would gain worth! I thought that if I took care of the car, like all the stories I hear about people who get their oil changed every three thousand miles, it would last for at LEAST ten years. I thought that I'd get a promotion because I was so close to it at the time, but I didn't. Then they started laying off people and now I'm one of the few left of my kind and my position is being eliminated AND I honestly don't know from one day to the next if I will have a job. The job market scares the living crap out of me. But I have kept on scraping along because I don't want to lose my home. I love it and I don't want its windows broken out or graffiti on the side of the garage or the copper plumbing stolen after the walls are kicked through. It doesn't deserve that. But then who suffers? My car, that's who. And when the car suffers, I suffer.
Last week the car loudly protested its current situation. I was in a fender bender a few months ago and yeah I got a really good deal on a quick body work fix, but apparently that wasn't all that had happened. Oh well, what's a noise or two here and there, I thought. I mean, the car is 9 years old, it has almost 80,000 miles on it and it IS a FORD. What do I expect? Dum de dum. Drove the car everywhere I wanted to go, used its noises as an excuse for NOT going where I DIDN'T want to go, and then one day I smelled antifreeze and my world fell apart.
You ever hear those anecdotes about how families are one paycheck away from the street? Well that's were me and kitty and Minchie are. This week was horrible, and I know it feels much worse than it sounds, especially since I am not as young as I used to be, and I get nervous and hysterical more easily. After depositing my car at the mechanic's shop, I borrowed my brother's beater car, which he keeps parked at my mom's house...which is 25 miles from me. Late the night of the breakdown, I pulled the little Beater into my driveway, breathed a grateful sigh of relief, and forgot about the whole mess. Early the next morning, I had to work. My job is not one of those jobs you can call in sick for. There is nobody around to do it, and many people expect me to be there to do it. If I am not there, it can have some very serious results to the detriment of those who depend on me, and who are in no position to have their time wasted in such a way. Plus it's unprofessional blaaaah blaaaah blah.
I had to walk. Actually I had to run. I was still late, but at least I made it. After the essentials were completed, I RAN back home and called my brother. He told me to go buy all sorts of crap at the car parts place. I did. I ran back home and then sat there wondering what the fuck I was going to do with all of this shit? I don't know the first thing about any car workings and even if I did, I am hard-pressed to scrounge up a pair of scissors, much less some car tools. I called AAA. They sent some cracked out tow truck driver who actually did help get the Beater started, but then he asked me for money. I knew he probably deserved it since the car didn't get towed and he DID spend two hours messing around with the car freezing his ass off too, plus he didn't have time to smoke any crack for at least two hours, right? So I gave him the sixty bucks. I sort of kicked myself because UM that's why I pay for AAA right? But you know, when you are a single woman STRANDED at home, and you have this guy knowing where you live, you just give him the sixty bucks, smile and thank him kindly for "everything."
I heaved another sigh of relief. Ok. He got the car started. It's ok now. I had to take a half day off work but tomorrow I won't be late again and everything will be alright. Next morning I awoke with an uneasy feeling somewhere. It wasn't in my heart and it wasn't in my stomach, it was somewhere in between those two. I hurried my butt up and zoomed around the house, getting a backpack stuffed full of everything a bag lady needs to survive on the street. I got in the car, PRAYING that it would do the same thing for me as it did for the crackdriver. But it didn't. It didn't start. I ran to work.
I ran home. It was raining, but at least it was above freezing temperature. I called my brother. He told me how it could be this or that or this or that. But just replace the battery and see if that works. I wanted to fucking kill him at this point, but of course it wasn't his fault and he couldn't do much to help me any more than he already was.
But having already spent $200 on the car, I didn't WANT to buy a battery. But I did it anyway. Who knew batteries are so heavy? I am sure anyone watching me lugging that fucker home would have gotten a huge laugh out of it. I tried many different positions, but by far I have to say that the easiest way to transport a battery is to roll it by gently kicking pushing. Yes, it does take forEVER, but if you can't carry something you have to be inventive.
That worked. Actually, I had the car parts store guy tell me EXACTLY what TOOLS I will need for this job. And I paid retail for THEM, TOO. But I got the battery in the car and it did run for the next two days until today when I dropped THAT off at the mechanic and picked my car up. After I paid over a thousand dollars, I went to the ATM to see how much money was in my bank account. I had enough, with ten dollars to spare.
That means I have a car that runs, so if I don't get laid off this year I will at least be able to make it to work. I hope. That means I have exactly 5 days to come up with $1300. That means I am looking at this computer screen wondering where the fuck I am going to get $1300. Which is probably why I keep on typing, not saying much.
It's all my fault, I know it. I was irresponsible or stupid. I did not purchase any luxuries except an occasional bottle of $6 wine and I live a frugal life. I would have been just fine if I would have stayed in that old apartment but my problem was that I just HAD to buy a HOUSE. It is something that I don't know if I will ever be able to explain, even to myself. The need was so strong, perhaps it represented to me exactly the opposite of what it really was: stability.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Oh, Tiger. Go ahead and whine about privacy and dealing with your transgressions with your family blaaaaaaaaaah blah blah. That's ok, you don't have to talk to the press. Your ladies are doing it for you because you are SO concerned about your family.
Say goodbye to AT&T and Gillette. Um, and I'm pretty sure Cadillac won't be knocking at your door anytime soon.
Here is your problem now. Your credibility as a stellar PERSON as well as a great golfer has been shot because you can't control yourself.
It just goes to show, ladies. A great family will not stop a man from throwing it all away on a 24 year old waitress.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
I have been following this story but since I am not a career blogger, I don't usually post about news items.
Until today. I just can't stop myself.
I am glad we have a system in which a person is considered innocent until proven guilty. Sometimes we punish people who are innocent. Sometimes the punishment does not fit the crime and that's why we have the media who LOVES to publicize pieces like that. I hope anyone who has been proven innocent is compensated for the crime committed against him or her.... so with THAT out of the way..
And even more often, people get away with crimes by never being caught and also by lawyering up - oh and also by being juveniles.
So to all of you juveniles out there, I just want you to note the following in that juvenile, not quite mature or legally adult brain of yours: I vote every chance I get. I vote for harsh penalties and I vote for prison time. I am a democrat but guess what. I came from economically challenged parents who had no education and nothing going for them and I know what is expected of me because from an early age I knew I had enough problems, and didn't need to create any more for myself. I don't feel SORRY for others who don't want to be productive citizens.
Here we have young people who simply have no respect for others. They think it's okay to victimize another human being and do you think they would hesitate to kick your DOG? Hell no. Prison. Whatever. Get rid of them. They are worthless. They are using up precious resources and taxpayer dollars.
I deal with people like these fuckers every day and I know that there is no amount of "therapy" or "cognitive (ha!) intervention" that will persuade a criminal to stop preying upon those who are weak, especially when their sexuality enters into it. After they get themselves off on victimizing another person, forget about it.
Letting them stay in the community is cheaper, that's true. But guarantee it that these people who raped this girl will do it again WHEN they are released, and I do mean WHEN.
Not that it matters.