The addendums are still with lawyers. I don't think they've looked at them yet, as it will take about 35 seconds of effort to give them the OK.
That's my update. What follows is what inspired me to write today.
Most days, I go to the gym on my lunch break. Today was no exception. After my short and half hearted workout, I decided, as I do every day, to wash the stink off of myself in the shower before returning to work. While in the shower, I overheard a few fellows talking. One of the guys was talking about how he had a lung removed when he was buried at a construction site. Basically, he was in a hole and a bunch of dirt joined him in the hole. It crushed him and he considers it a miracle that he didn't die. He then went on to say that people take life for granted and blah blah blah.
A little later on in the conversation, the topic turned to his sister. He revealed to another nude fellow that she had cancer of the pancreas and liver. If you don't know much about cancers, then I'll tell you that pancreatic cancer is super duper good at killing people. He knows this as well, so he's pretty much resigned to the fact that she will get extra killed.
After the obligatory condolences from the nude fellow he was talking to, he went on to say that he prayed for her every night and morning, as 'that's the only thing that can cure her now.' I hate that crap.
Let's say that this woman makes a full recovery and somehow defeats her super deadly pancreas. I can only assume, that since the prognosis is so dire, that this man will sincerely believe that a ghost listened to him and healed her. Not that some crazy new treatment or her genetics cured her, but that something we can't see gave a crap about this one poor woman and decided that it was OK to take away the disease.
I have a lot of problems with religion in general and one of them is described above. Too much credit is given to a magician when things go well, and not enough blame is shifted when things go wrong. 'Miracles' are the fault of a mystic, but disasters are caused by everything but said mystic. It's absurd.
I understand that the above is probably poorly written and I am no expert of atheism vs. zealotry, but I felt like writing about it. You can thank two naked men and tragedy for it. Or maybe it is all part of the divine plan?
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Minor Updates
I've spent the last few days making phone calls, meeting with people and waiting for the Purchase and Sales agreement to be signed. It's kind of important.
The hold up was first with the seller's and bank's lawyers. They like to take their time, as they charge by the hour. When the agreement finally came back my way, it had a few addendums. Now those addendums are being looked at by my lawyer. Hooray. Once they give them the OK, I will sign off and that will be that.
As for all of the other stuff? I've been in touch with my Contractor to go over some things, and more importantly, my mortgage fellow. I met with him two days ago after work. His office is in his house. It was weird.
When I arrived, about ten minutes early, he invited me in and began tidying up his home office. He was a little on the frantic side. Once the office was relatively clean, he let out a big sigh and said, "Ryan, I'll be honest with you. I'm a smoker. Come downstairs and I will have a quick smoke, relax a little and gather my thoughts."
Somewhat stunned, I followed him into his basement, where one of his daughters was watching TV, and into his smoking room. Seriously. He has a small room with two chairs in it, an exhaust fan and what looked like an Ionic Breeze air filter. He closed the door, I sat down and he smoked a cigarette. In this time, I found out that he was taking his family to the middle east soon. I also learned that he is from Sudan and his wife is from Syria. Also, that he was engaged to be married long ago, but his fiance wanted to be a lawyer in New York. He's not a city guy. They decided to take six months off to figure things out and he travelled around the world for those six months. One of his stops? Syria. I'm sure his former fiance was thrilled with that development...
After the weird smoking break where I did my best not to breathe, we went back to the office and got down to business. He took all kinds of info and I'll probably get a loan. Huzzah.
Next up is getting that P&S signed, then getting the home inspected by both a professional home inspector and an agent of the bank (as I have that special 203(k) loan). After that, get the estimate written up, get my contractor to sign off and get my lawyer on the title work. It's going to be busy.
The hold up was first with the seller's and bank's lawyers. They like to take their time, as they charge by the hour. When the agreement finally came back my way, it had a few addendums. Now those addendums are being looked at by my lawyer. Hooray. Once they give them the OK, I will sign off and that will be that.
As for all of the other stuff? I've been in touch with my Contractor to go over some things, and more importantly, my mortgage fellow. I met with him two days ago after work. His office is in his house. It was weird.
When I arrived, about ten minutes early, he invited me in and began tidying up his home office. He was a little on the frantic side. Once the office was relatively clean, he let out a big sigh and said, "Ryan, I'll be honest with you. I'm a smoker. Come downstairs and I will have a quick smoke, relax a little and gather my thoughts."
Somewhat stunned, I followed him into his basement, where one of his daughters was watching TV, and into his smoking room. Seriously. He has a small room with two chairs in it, an exhaust fan and what looked like an Ionic Breeze air filter. He closed the door, I sat down and he smoked a cigarette. In this time, I found out that he was taking his family to the middle east soon. I also learned that he is from Sudan and his wife is from Syria. Also, that he was engaged to be married long ago, but his fiance wanted to be a lawyer in New York. He's not a city guy. They decided to take six months off to figure things out and he travelled around the world for those six months. One of his stops? Syria. I'm sure his former fiance was thrilled with that development...
After the weird smoking break where I did my best not to breathe, we went back to the office and got down to business. He took all kinds of info and I'll probably get a loan. Huzzah.
Next up is getting that P&S signed, then getting the home inspected by both a professional home inspector and an agent of the bank (as I have that special 203(k) loan). After that, get the estimate written up, get my contractor to sign off and get my lawyer on the title work. It's going to be busy.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Purchase and Sales
Over the past few days, I've been in touch with my mortgage guy as well as my Realtor. The mortgage guy made me send a bunch of stuff to him. Here's the list of what it takes to get a 203(k) mortgage:
One month worth of Pay Stubs
Two month's worth of statements (checking, savings, 401(k), etc.)
W2 from 2008 and 2009
HUD settlement sheet (from the house I sold awhile ago)
Property address and purchase price
Contractor's name and contact info
Insurance agent's name and contact info
I sent what I could from that list along earlier this week (no '08 W2, no insurance) and am waiting on the next step in the process, the Purchase and Sales agreement.
This should normally take about 13 minutes to do, as it's just filling in some info in a pre-prepared document. It took a few days for this one. Why? Because John McCann, Realtor dragged his feet a little. Also? Because we had to put a clause in.
The first attempt at the P&S looked good, but it didn't have anything in it about making sure that the crazy squatters were gone. I need that clause for sure. The last thing I need after closing on this place is to have to call the police to evict stripper/drug addict and a soft spoken knifist. I made the request and John edited the document and sent it my way. I signed it yesterday, scanned it at home and sent it back. Now the seller has to sign it and we'll be well on our way to closing on April 9th.
There are only 7 million things to do between now and then, but at least a big step will have been taken.
One month worth of Pay Stubs
Two month's worth of statements (checking, savings, 401(k), etc.)
W2 from 2008 and 2009
HUD settlement sheet (from the house I sold awhile ago)
Property address and purchase price
Contractor's name and contact info
Insurance agent's name and contact info
I sent what I could from that list along earlier this week (no '08 W2, no insurance) and am waiting on the next step in the process, the Purchase and Sales agreement.
This should normally take about 13 minutes to do, as it's just filling in some info in a pre-prepared document. It took a few days for this one. Why? Because John McCann, Realtor dragged his feet a little. Also? Because we had to put a clause in.
The first attempt at the P&S looked good, but it didn't have anything in it about making sure that the crazy squatters were gone. I need that clause for sure. The last thing I need after closing on this place is to have to call the police to evict stripper/drug addict and a soft spoken knifist. I made the request and John edited the document and sent it my way. I signed it yesterday, scanned it at home and sent it back. Now the seller has to sign it and we'll be well on our way to closing on April 9th.
There are only 7 million things to do between now and then, but at least a big step will have been taken.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Eye Exam and Other News
So. Last week, on Thursday, I got my first ever real adult eye exam. My distance vision hasn't been as sharp as it should be for a few years, so since I have health insurance, I figured it might be a good idea to finally cave and get some glasses. If I knew how utterly horrifying an eye exam can be, I would have done without glasses for a few more years.
I went in figuring I'd get nothing more than the old, 'better, or worse' multiple lens test. I got that. Unfortunately, that was not the end of things...
Once the eye doctor had determined just how bad my eyesight is and written down what prescription I need, he decided to poke and prod my delicate eyes a little more. First, he shot a few drops of a terrible ochre colored numbing agent into my eyes. After wiping away the probably skin staining liquid running down my face, he brought over a torture device and made me stick my face into it. This is it:
Once my forehead was pressed against the upper, um, thing, he proceeded to turn on a blue light and slowly draw it closer to the center of my eyeball. This was an abjectly horrifying experience. I was staring straight ahead into weird blue light on the end of a dagger while it centimetered (inched isn't descriptive enough) slowly toward the surface of my eyeball. I kept my composure overall, but my sweat glands did not. I knew that I was in no real danger, but my brain was having a hard time believing itself. I knew that I was administered a numbing agent for a reason, and that reason was that dagger was touching my delicate eyeball. I was a mess.
Once he was finished with the first eye, he moved onto the second one. Same thing that time, the only difference being I was unknowingly backing away slowly. My forehead was no longer touching the top forehead rest thing and he had to ask me to get my head back on it. Continuing my sweating and elevated heart rate, I obliged, but was having trouble keeping my eye open. Not to worry though, the eye doctor used his fingers to pry my eyelids apart and finish up.
Ugh. I feel queasy just writing about it.
Once the torture was finished, he then put more eye drops in each eye. This time, they would dilate my eyes. Once the drops were in, he sent me to choose some glasses while the drops took effect. I don't know if you've ever had your eyes dilated by a doctor, but I couldn't see a damn thing. It was impossible to choose a decent pair of glasses. I only have a vague idea as to what my chosen pair looks like, but luckily Amanda was there to help out. I can't even be sure what color they are.
It was a terrible experience, but at least I will now get a nice surprise when I see my glasses for the first time ever...
Now that that's out of the way, on to business:
I decided last week that if I did not hear back from the bank, I would put an offer in on the other property on Monday (yesterday). John let the seller's agent know that if we didn't hear anything by Friday, we would pursue other opportunities. Friday came and went with nary a peep from the seller's agent. Since I had a bunch of meetings yesterday, I could not get to John's office to sign anything. It would have to wait until today at lunch.
I made my way to John's office in Providence at lunch, with my checkbook (for a good-faith deposit) and letter saying I could get the money if I need to from my mortgage company. I walked into the building, said hello to the receptionist and walked over to John's desk.
I saw that he was on the phone, so I stopped, but he waived me over. He hung up shortly thereafter and informed me that he was literally just talking with the seller's agent. The bank accepted the offer.
Crazy. $65k.
I will be signing a bunch of crap and getting the purchase and sales together by tomorrow. With any luck, we'll close in about a month.
I went in figuring I'd get nothing more than the old, 'better, or worse' multiple lens test. I got that. Unfortunately, that was not the end of things...
Once the eye doctor had determined just how bad my eyesight is and written down what prescription I need, he decided to poke and prod my delicate eyes a little more. First, he shot a few drops of a terrible ochre colored numbing agent into my eyes. After wiping away the probably skin staining liquid running down my face, he brought over a torture device and made me stick my face into it. This is it:
Once my forehead was pressed against the upper, um, thing, he proceeded to turn on a blue light and slowly draw it closer to the center of my eyeball. This was an abjectly horrifying experience. I was staring straight ahead into weird blue light on the end of a dagger while it centimetered (inched isn't descriptive enough) slowly toward the surface of my eyeball. I kept my composure overall, but my sweat glands did not. I knew that I was in no real danger, but my brain was having a hard time believing itself. I knew that I was administered a numbing agent for a reason, and that reason was that dagger was touching my delicate eyeball. I was a mess.
Once he was finished with the first eye, he moved onto the second one. Same thing that time, the only difference being I was unknowingly backing away slowly. My forehead was no longer touching the top forehead rest thing and he had to ask me to get my head back on it. Continuing my sweating and elevated heart rate, I obliged, but was having trouble keeping my eye open. Not to worry though, the eye doctor used his fingers to pry my eyelids apart and finish up.
Ugh. I feel queasy just writing about it.
Once the torture was finished, he then put more eye drops in each eye. This time, they would dilate my eyes. Once the drops were in, he sent me to choose some glasses while the drops took effect. I don't know if you've ever had your eyes dilated by a doctor, but I couldn't see a damn thing. It was impossible to choose a decent pair of glasses. I only have a vague idea as to what my chosen pair looks like, but luckily Amanda was there to help out. I can't even be sure what color they are.
It was a terrible experience, but at least I will now get a nice surprise when I see my glasses for the first time ever...
Now that that's out of the way, on to business:
I decided last week that if I did not hear back from the bank, I would put an offer in on the other property on Monday (yesterday). John let the seller's agent know that if we didn't hear anything by Friday, we would pursue other opportunities. Friday came and went with nary a peep from the seller's agent. Since I had a bunch of meetings yesterday, I could not get to John's office to sign anything. It would have to wait until today at lunch.
I made my way to John's office in Providence at lunch, with my checkbook (for a good-faith deposit) and letter saying I could get the money if I need to from my mortgage company. I walked into the building, said hello to the receptionist and walked over to John's desk.
I saw that he was on the phone, so I stopped, but he waived me over. He hung up shortly thereafter and informed me that he was literally just talking with the seller's agent. The bank accepted the offer.
Crazy. $65k.
I will be signing a bunch of crap and getting the purchase and sales together by tomorrow. With any luck, we'll close in about a month.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Offered.
Yesterday morning, I talked to the fellow who will be handing me tens of thousands of dollars on behalf of his employer. He sent along a nice little letter stating that I am, in fact, worthy of receiving the money we spent a few minutes talking about.
Once I had that pre-qualification letter, I was ready to make an offer on the multifamily of my dreams. That is, if I dream about poop and probable narcotics abusers...
Backtracking a little bit, I spoke to John McCann, Realtor the previous evening to decide on an offer price. After some discussion about the merits of low balling vs. fair pricing, we arrived on a number. This number took into consideration both the amount of work that needed to be done, and the final selling price that I had arrived upon previously after much mathematics.
With this number in mind, I asked my lender contact to draft a pre-qual letter stating the exact figures John and I discussed. This would show the bank not only what I was offering, but also the precise amount I had for renovations. The money was split up thusly:
Total loan amount - $115k
Amount for renovations - $50k
Amount of offer - $65k
Now, the above can definitely be construed as a 'low ball' offer, especially considering I know what the previous, and accepted by the bank of the owner (it is a short sale after all), offer was ($82k). I don't want to pay $82k for the house. Too much needs to be done and I actually want to turn a decent profit when it is finally sold. John and I arrived on the $65k hoping that the seller's bank would be tired of the property and would want it off of their books. This is a terrible assumption, because it assumes that banks run the real estate arms of their businesses using sound reasoning.
If I learned anything from the three months it took to finally close on the previous house we flipped, it is that banks operate the real estate arms of their empires using an infuriating combination of apathy and disdain for their work. They take forever to do anything. And it sucks.
That said, I definitely expect the offer to be rejected (eight weeks from now) and I will need to get an updated pre-qualification letter for offer number 2.
In short, I signed an offer last evening and it was faxed over to the seller's agent. I will hopefully hear back about it by the end of this week. Realistically? I will not hear back about it until much later than that.
Good day.
Once I had that pre-qualification letter, I was ready to make an offer on the multifamily of my dreams. That is, if I dream about poop and probable narcotics abusers...
Backtracking a little bit, I spoke to John McCann, Realtor the previous evening to decide on an offer price. After some discussion about the merits of low balling vs. fair pricing, we arrived on a number. This number took into consideration both the amount of work that needed to be done, and the final selling price that I had arrived upon previously after much mathematics.
With this number in mind, I asked my lender contact to draft a pre-qual letter stating the exact figures John and I discussed. This would show the bank not only what I was offering, but also the precise amount I had for renovations. The money was split up thusly:
Total loan amount - $115k
Amount for renovations - $50k
Amount of offer - $65k
Now, the above can definitely be construed as a 'low ball' offer, especially considering I know what the previous, and accepted by the bank of the owner (it is a short sale after all), offer was ($82k). I don't want to pay $82k for the house. Too much needs to be done and I actually want to turn a decent profit when it is finally sold. John and I arrived on the $65k hoping that the seller's bank would be tired of the property and would want it off of their books. This is a terrible assumption, because it assumes that banks run the real estate arms of their businesses using sound reasoning.
If I learned anything from the three months it took to finally close on the previous house we flipped, it is that banks operate the real estate arms of their empires using an infuriating combination of apathy and disdain for their work. They take forever to do anything. And it sucks.
That said, I definitely expect the offer to be rejected (eight weeks from now) and I will need to get an updated pre-qualification letter for offer number 2.
In short, I signed an offer last evening and it was faxed over to the seller's agent. I will hopefully hear back about it by the end of this week. Realistically? I will not hear back about it until much later than that.
Good day.
Monday, February 1, 2010
The Book of Eli
He's a blind person.
With that out of the way, here's a quick house hunt update:
Last week, Al Medina, General Contractor met me at the two properties still under our consideration. Thereafter, he gave me an estimate on each one. The first place we saw (the one with the feces), came in at about $40-$45k to fix up. Yikes.
The second place (the one with the paintball shots), came in at roughly the same. This surprised me. The reason? I'm an idiot and didn't notice that the second and third floors don;t have a decent, or existing, heating system.
In order to get heat? I need to pay someone to install and run lines for two small boilers. Woof. The cost? About 4 grand.
It just so happens that that will be the approximate cost to run copper throughout the other building. That makes everything about equal. Since the costs are roughly the same, I'm going to make an offer on the one with the extra (albeit illegal) unit and that's in a better neighborhood.
I talked it over with Amanda last evening and my mortgage fellow this morning. We'll be making an offer on Feces Gables early this week. We'll see how it goes...
With that out of the way, here's a quick house hunt update:
Last week, Al Medina, General Contractor met me at the two properties still under our consideration. Thereafter, he gave me an estimate on each one. The first place we saw (the one with the feces), came in at about $40-$45k to fix up. Yikes.
The second place (the one with the paintball shots), came in at roughly the same. This surprised me. The reason? I'm an idiot and didn't notice that the second and third floors don;t have a decent, or existing, heating system.
In order to get heat? I need to pay someone to install and run lines for two small boilers. Woof. The cost? About 4 grand.
It just so happens that that will be the approximate cost to run copper throughout the other building. That makes everything about equal. Since the costs are roughly the same, I'm going to make an offer on the one with the extra (albeit illegal) unit and that's in a better neighborhood.
I talked it over with Amanda last evening and my mortgage fellow this morning. We'll be making an offer on Feces Gables early this week. We'll see how it goes...
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