Tales from the House Hunter

In case you ever decide to post a rental listing, let me give you some advice.

1. Post photos. Do you really want to waste your time showing me a place I could have said "no" to by seeing the photos?
2. When posting photos, post photos of the INSIDE. Yes, the outside is nice too, but I couldn't care less what the trees in the yard look like - or the swimming pool either, for that matter. I want to see the inside, particularly the kitchen and the bathroom(s).
3. Don't tell me to drive by it first and then call you. I can use Google Earth to view the neighborhood and do a virtual drive-by. If I call you, I'm interested
4. We're in a RECESSION. In one of the worst housing markets in 60 years. Don't ignore me. If I call you, I'm interested. Don't make it difficult. Don't play games. Don't take 5 days to get back to me. If you want to rent it, act like it.
5. Don't rave about the fabulous new kitchen, remodeled things or amenities and not include photos. That's like telling me I've won the lottery but forgetting to tell me how to claim it (sort of)
6. I've worked in real estate - I know the goofy terms people use when there is nothing else to say about a place. "Plush carpeting" and "sparkling pool" do nothing for me. Carpeting is carpeting. Pools sparkle if there is sunshine out. Tell me something not obvious.
7. Bonus points if you include the square footage in your listing - this eliminates me having to call you to ask, wasting both of our time if your 3-bedroom rental is only 900 square feet. Yes, I realize you can cram 3 bedrooms in that amount of space. Unfortunately, I'm not interested in cramming 4 people and all of our stuff into that space. Thanks anyway.
8. If your rental doesn't include something major - like, oh, a refrigerator - raise the rent $50/month and buy one for crying out loud
9. Don't act like there are renters banging down your door. They aren't. Promise.
10. Include an e-mail address. It's much more efficient for both of us to ask/answer initial questions (you know, the ones you forgot to answer in the listing - like whether or not there are W/D hookups and how big the place is) via e-mail. Goes back to me not wanting to waste your time or mine.
11. Do NOT, under any circumstances, tell me that my husband needs to come see it as well. We'll survive if only one of us has seen it. He rented the place on Malibu Palms (ghetto). I rented the Hobbit Hole (short ceilinged basement apartment). We're still married. End of story.
12. Don't make me wait until your open house. I won't be in town then. If you want to rent the place, rent it. If you want to only show it to people at one time, say it in your listing. I'll cross it off my list. There are hundreds of other options.
13. Know what the neighborhood rental rates are. Don't think that because I'm from out of town I won't find out your house/unit is overpriced.
14. Don't ask me how many children will live in the house, how old I am (you can get that on the rental application) or if I'm Mormon (you know, since I'm moving from The Frontier and all). It's technically illegal, and I really would rather not give a complete stranger my entire life's story before deciding on a house. You will get all the necessary information. You can't deny me housing as a result of my answers anyway. In return, I won't ask you about the crime rate, what the neighbors are like(specifically) or other things you aren't required by law to disclose. I have my sources.

I've only just begun the Great Housing Hunt, and I'm already fed up. It amazes me how many hoops a person wants one to jump through, how many assumptions one must make, how much time one must waste to find suitable accommodations in one of the most populated cities in the country. Egads!

Beach Vacation, Anyone?

First, I'd like to formally welcome Anna Katherine, the newest member of the extended blogging family to the world. Congrats, Oliver & Kristin!

That aside, now that I've had several days to contemplate the eternities, er, rather contemplate yet another hundreds-of-miles-away move to a new city/state, I'm feeling a bit more settled. Don't get me wrong - packing, moving, unpacking, new doctors, new hospital, new digs, etc. exactly two years after the last major move (and less than a year after the Hobbit-Hole-to-70s-Palace move) is not, in the least bit, exciting. Just thinking about it exhausts me. My only consolation is that this move will involve company-provided movers, meaning THEY can lift the thousand-pound washing machine out of the basement. Poor washer. They weren't made to move this often. The neighbors, however, are cheering, I'm certain ... helping us move twice in the span of a year is a little taxing.

We have NOT formally accepted the offer yet - and won't until month's end - after Himself and I (separately, due to an already planned-for-trip I have for business) do some snooping around for housing and such. However, we are 95% certain that The Beach (expensive housing and all) will be our new home come late spring/early summer. We've been making up Pros list, so as to negate the Cons list that I already had in place before we even had any formal offers about moving.

-70 degrees. Year-round. Okay, not quite, but almost. No Frontier snow, but also no crazy Desert summers. 300 average days of sunshine. A girl could get used to that, especially since the move also comes with water nearby.

-I've actually been there (Himself has never even been to the state, at least one of us has spent a fair amount of time there). This is a bonus, given that I at least can personally vouch for the weather, the food, the things to do, and the public transit.

-Lots to do - Sea World, the zoo, outdoors things, the beach ... and the economy means that "locals" get jaw-dropping discounts.

-A single commute. Himself would be commuting, which means we can centralize our housing search in proximity to his job. I got the full green-light to telecommute and keep my Frontier job. This also adds to the list:

• Reduced childcare costs (I will only need someone one day/week for meetings)
• I get to be AT HOME with Woodstock and Baby X. Time will only tell if I'll stay sane being at home and working, but ... for now ... I'm thrilled.
• Flex time. The Beach is an hour behind The Frontier, meaning I'll get off earlier, but telecommuting also means I can work whatever hours I want. Meaning a mid-day trip to the Farmer's markets in La Mesa on Fridays is not out of the question.
• Ironically, it means an increased ability to meet people. No, I won't be in an office, but a flex at-home schedule gives me the option of meeting SAH and WAH moms as well, if we pick the right neighborhood.

All of this makes the cost-of-living increase slightly more palatable.

-Have I mentioned the weather? Because it snowed 11" last week in our corner of The Frontier. Apparently, the calendar forgot to remind Mother Nature that it is now Spring and all wet stuff should come in the form of rain. Woodstock and I built a snowman Monday for crying out loud.

-Better place for visitors. Who really wants to visit The Desert unless it's the middle of a deep freeze? No one I know - well, except for Heidi, but she's from there, so that doesn't count. Even my city-adverse father said, "Hey! The Beach would be a much better place to come visit, and it's closer."

-It is, in fact, closer to The Parentals than The Desert (mine, anyway, it will still involve an airplane to Himself's). Okay, truly? Mileage-wise it's about 50 miles further. Time-wise, it's a few minutes closer, due to interstate-only travel (this is, of course, pending you don't leave during California's infamous day-long rush-hours). It doesn't really matter. Family is excited about new pending vacation spot.

It's really happening. I could be the resident of another state within 2 months. Woodstock could be living in her third house in 20 months. Poor kid. I promise we'll slow the moving down when you're in school.