It is a good thing I took the extra time to do something with my hair today. I mean, it is getting kind of long, and I got a gift certificate for Christmas for a cut and style, but I don't know what I want to do with it. So I have been trying all of these different things-pulling it back in a ponytail with a sideways part (it looked really nice like that when my sister got married, by the way, I had on bright red lipstick and a retro-looking dress; I looked very glam), using a clip, straightening it, using my diffuser to make it curlier...and the other day when I straightened it, the bangs wouldn't cooperate so I just pulled them back. I looked in the mirror and thought, "Oh, God, crack whore." Only not skinny. And with all my teeth. Anyway....
Today, my new landlord came in to the office to go over my lease, which is why I was glad my hair looked nice. I mean, nothing says "Hey, Rent to Me!" like the Crack Whore Look, but still. See, we looked at the house last night (keep in mind that this is NOT the same owner who thought I was going to let Owen shit everywhere; this is a different one, different house AND owner), and I called him to let him know we would take it. I was feeling under the slightest bit of pressure, as there were other people there looking at it as well, so I thought I better call and let him know that we were interested, even if we weren't 100% sure. So he came by the office to go over the lease and fill out the paperwork for the Idaho Housing Authority (which I very promptly faxed in), and I was glad that he could see me in my "professional mode." He didn't know a couple of the salient details about the construction year and such of the house, so I put on my "Insurance Agent Extraordinaire" voice (can also be confused at times with those 1-976 numbers) and called the Assessor's office for him...very cool. It is one thing to KNOW I have four kids and two dogs, it would be another thing entirely for him to meet me at my house and witness the chaos firsthand. I have the Crack Whore Look, and the Professional Look, but there is also the Slatternly Housewife Look; bandanna and curlers in my hair, a polka-dotted housecoat, with a cigarette hanging out of my mouth. No, I am glad he came here instead. We went over the stuff, I paid my deposit, he gave me the keys. That was it. He still has to have the house inspected, and I have to be there for that as well, at which point everything is Official and Final, but for all intents and purposes, the house is mine.
I will say that I don't LOVE the house, but I don't HATE it, either. Actually, I love the upstairs; two bedrooms up, a small living room, all with hardwood floors and windows that are perfectly situated for maximum light. In the room that will be mine, the sun will shine in and wake me up in the summer, which makes me very, very happy. The bathroom is small, but then so is the one we have now, and this one is nice. The kitchen is small (do you see a pattern here?), but with new linoleum and counter tops, and again, LOTS of light. I can have houseplants again!
The downstairs is more, "Meh." It is a basement with concrete floors, with two finished bedrooms also with concrete floors. Both bedrooms are painted some hideous dark blue color (but the landlord said he would take the $$ for paint off my share of the rent is we wanted to change it), but they DO have two high windows in each. Also, the rest of the basement is open, with those high windows, so it isn't like a dungeon or anything. My thought was that the upstairs-due to the size-would be the TV Free Zone; I could make it cozy and quiet with bookshelves and chairs and reading lamps, and then the downstairs could be the TV/game/play room. I think it will be fine with some throw or area rugs and a divider between the laundry area and the main room, even homey.
So. All the paperwork is complete, I am just waiting for the inspection to be scheduled and final approval made. This house has apparently been on the IHA program before, so the Landlord is familiar with the process and felt confident in going ahead and taking the deposit and giving me the keys. Keys, guys. Keys to the really nice, solid, NEW door with double-paned safety glass. Keys to the shiny, sturdy new deadbolt. Keys.
So there you are; there is some damn fine news, and while I try to not get TOO excited in case things go tits-up, this feels good to me. Thanks for all your good vibes and Karma and prayers or whatever. I am sure you will all get sick of hearing about this, but again, damn.