Peacocks and Other Thoughts: February 2009

My Theories on the Squidmasters

For any and all who have not heard my theories on squid and octopi, mark my words - if these critters figure out how to develop a skeletal system capable of sustaining them on land, they will rule the world. Calamari is self defense.

So needless to say, my attention was captivated by the linked article, which is titled "SoCal Aquarium Blames Flooding on Curious Octopus." Apparently a "gregarious" female octopus manage to turn a valve in her tank and flood the aquarium offices with hundreds of gallons of water. According to the article "no sea life was harmed by the flood."

A few points here . . .

1. What genius put a valve in the octopi aquarium that could cause hundreds of gallons of water to flood the administrative offices when octopi are capable of unscrewing the lids off mason jars?

2. Do they still have a job?

3. Of course no sea life was harmed . . . the octopus was obviously just trying to share its lovely habitat with its "friends" . . . in the same way the man following you down the dark alley with a crowbar was simply fixing a flat tire and is now being a good Samaritan and trying to return the $10 bucks you dropped on the sidewalk.

4. Pray tell . . . how can sea life be harmed by adding hundreds of gallons MORE sea water?

I'm not exactly sure who won that round. The octopus is still captive, but it has managed to showcase the naievety and stupidity of its captors. I'd call it a draw . . . unless we get together a group of like-minded people and make a trip to Red Lobster. Calamari, ho!

Plug for Zillow.Com

For anyone searching for a new home, I highly recommend that you check out Zillow.com. While it's information is not always the most accurate (I think it gathers most of its information from public records off the Internet, and we all know those are always 100% accurate, right?), the more features I stumble across, the more impressed I have become.

My personal favorite used to be the cute little chart they have showing the fluctuations of your home's value. Well, most people fluctuate. Mine looks more like a cliff that lemmings dive off (ha ha ha . . . if you have to laugh or cry, I choose to laugh - otherwise I would spend way too much time crying).

But my new favorite feature is the "Make me Move" price. You can log in, verify you are the owner of the home, and set a price that if some Joe walked off the street and said "I'll give you $______ for your home" . . . you would say "Righty-O, then" and call a moving company.

I've also discovered it will show you an aerial map of neighborhoods with cute little house icons next to everyone who is selling or FORECLOSED (no paying a monthly fee or signing up for endless email spam - HOORAY!) . . . and if you click on the cute little house icon, it gives you all the information you could want (though once again, I repeat, you may want to verify for accuracy).

For those of you who are thinking I'm a complete dork . . . no denials from this direction. If you need me I'll be in my closet . . . with my computer . . . playing on Zillow.

Perseverence

Lately I've been changing directions so often I think I have some sort of virtual whiplash. And here comes yet another sharp curve and the sharp bark of tires on a curb. Le sigh.

For those who have never heard my housing sob story, allow me to hand you a box of kleenix and turn on the violin music . . . In a nutshell, we paid around $124,000 for a cute little townhome six years ago with the concept that we would live in it for 2-3 years and flip it for a down payment on a larger family home. Then the economy went to hell in a handbasket - and I got pregnant - which were both entirely unpredictable events. Within that 2-3 year period, the value of our house dropped to $80,000 - leaving us roughly $45,000 upside down. I won't say that I haven't had a great deal of enjoyment laughing at every financial individual who suggested I look into home equity loans . . . , but it is a little frustrating that I have been a good girl and faithfully made all of my payments for the last six years, and at last . . . at long last . . . we are only $10-15,000 upside down.

But now my baby is 5 and is ready for school, and it turns out we are districted for the most troubled school in the neighborhood. Not just a bad school. The school that is whispered about in back alleys other parents threaten to send their children to if they misbehave. So now a gigantic clock is ticking, and I need to figure out how to unload my elephant of a house without destroying my credit. I was considering calling the We Buy Ugly Houses folks - but from all accounts on the Internet, it sounds like they'll offer me roughly 40% of the value of my home . . . which is not feasible. Renting is a frightening option . . . given the quality of folk in the neighborhood - I'm afraid they would trash the place and make my situation worse.

So now I think I need to contact a bi-lingual realtor who is willing to sell my place for enough to pay the bank and cover his/her realtor fees . . . and not a penny more. I don't want any profit. I just want to be out from under my mortgage with my credit intact.

Any ideas? Any resources you think I should try? Anything a cousin or a friend did that might work for me? I'm open to suggestion!

Backyard Renovation

The walls are officially bleeding and the voices are saying "get out" (and trust me! We're trying!). Last night at 2:30 a.m. T. heard a very loud bang, similar to a gunshot, followed by another sound and an impact vibration that shook the house and woke me out of a sound sleep. Lo and behold . . .

There was a car that came through our back fence. Scary? It gets it scarier. See the little black thing in the pool of light?

That's her bumper. This car that came through our fence was PARKED. Whoever hit the parked vehicle, hit it fast enough to send it roughly 40 feet, over a curb, and through our fence WITH THE EMERGENCY BRAKE ON.

On the bright side, no one was hurt and my household (including the fuzzies) are all safe. The HOA is responsible for the outer fence, and they are going to try and fix it by Monday - hopefully before the opportunistic vultures steal all my patio furniture. And the best news . . . the car that did the hit and run busted off their license plate (although it may not do any good since the perpetrator will probably call in their car as stolen ::sniffle::). Still, hooray for karma!!

There used to be a gate in our fence, before we found people hiding in our yard. Then we parked our small Toyota out there - until it was totaled in a similar hit and run. And now a parked car came flying through our fence. It's time to MOVE. I don't need any more messages from the universe.

Magnetic Poetry

A friend gave me a magnetic poetry set for Christmas. We shall not discuss how long it actually takes to put a full set of magnetic poetry on a refrigerator. Suffice it to say, any time you are at a party and notice someone actually has their magnetic poetry set on display, you can be certain there was a day when they were bored out of their mind for a few hours with nothing else to do. Having said that . . . my first magnetic poetry poem is in!

A Woman is A Dream

A woman is a dream -
the cicada,
the yellow blossom,
the journey between morning and evening -
this is how we recall eternity.
We picture a dream.
We watch the rain pounding the leaves of the birch.
We incubate a summer
so a smile can bloom
and a hot drop of lust melt time.
The moon shines -
a gift which shakes the ice from summer.
A woman's breath calls to the spring.
The flower of her laughter shining -
its petals of light,
the language of the sun.

A Mommy Moment

We've all had those days when you come home bone-weary, and all you want to do is kick off your shoes, sit on the couch, and order pizza, but you're not even sure if you have enough energy to dial the pizza place, let alone rifle your wallet for spare cash.

Unfortunately, my last bone-weary day included medicating the cat, making a trip to Petsmart for pet food and Sams Club for people food, cleaning the dog kennel from top to bottom and inside out after yet another canine butt explosion, bathing the dog for the same reason, and cleaning spilled gatorade off the couch before sitting down and calling my mother to beg for a reminder of why I put up with cats, dogs, and kids . . .

Then again . . . a picture can be worth a thousand words. Here is Ms. Callie, home from the vet and able to see . . . baking what brains she has left in the sun: