Welcomes; No Apostrophe.

I'm a little worried as I am looking at an evite that was sent out to announce our place and the party that we're having on September 1st. I'm looking over all my old files as I'd like to go ahead and redo the evite for some friends (and without mentioning the word 'gift') and I realize that there is a huge mispelling on the flier.

No bueño, especially since I created it. Regardless, in case you were wondering how long it would take me to notice the error; it was more than a couple days. Yes, so things here are a little crazy being in our first house and trying to get up and running with everything situated but in the end it makes no difference. This is something Dick will never let me live down. The most surprising thing is that Bethany kept it a secret this whole time (her tongue must've been raw). I'm convinced that she knew but didn't say anything. Well, anyway, I hope the error does not question the authenticity of a rockin' party. There will be lots of fun, some alcohol (rumors of a keg?), lots of food and of course you and a thousand of our closest friends that we haven't seen in 10 years, some family, coworkers and our dog Juno. We hope to see you there...

Ticking Time Bomb

I somehow managed to forget about the money we need to put down at closing. We have it but it isn't easy to get to. So I woke up Monday realizing that I may have screwed us. It has been a stressful 3 days getting the money from one bank to another, and then wiring it to a 3rd bank. The last step is the cashier's check tomorrow, and we can breathe a little easier.

The seller is a little nutty. Too many stories to describe. But we originally scheduled the settlement at 4pm. A couple of weeks ago, she asked to move it up, since she has to drive to Maine afterwards. So we moved it to 10am. Then, when we met with her to "tour the gardens," she mentioned that she would need a couple of extra hours after closing to get her stuff out, "But you'll still get the keys." After a few minutes, I realized that didn't sound right...and our realtor agreed. So now she is complaining that she won't have enough time to do a walk-through and get her stuff moved out by the 10am settlement appointment. I'm not sure if she knows she's selling the house, and at the end of it all, she has to get the hell out.

Meanwhile, our apartment is packed (mostly). It's a disaster area. The dog is surrounded by a labyrinth of boxes, like in "The Shining." Except all she has to do is chew her way out. Someone asked me, "is that [big hole in the box] from mice?" No...that's Juno, the box-eating dog. No, she's not a lesbian. Well, actually, she does hump female dogs, but that is for another blog at another time...

Sitting 36 hours from being a homeowner, I desperately want to be out of boxes and have a bottle of wine. I can't wait til this is over and we're moved in.