It's a very, very special day here at JeremyBear.com. Today, June 21, 2003 marks the official one-year anniversary of this Blogger. (For the ultra-nostalgic, you can read my very first entry by clicking here). Frankly, I'm surprised that I've yet to run out of stuff to say. For those of you who've faithfully read my ramblings, though... thanks. I'll try to be more consistent.

On with the chaos...


Part 1: Mea Maxima Culpa

Sure. Go ahead. Laugh. Point. All the comments that come to mind, say them right out loud:
"Oh, look who's come crawling back."
"Jeremy Who? OH, yes, sorry, I'd forgotten you were alive."
"Why post to the Blogger, buddy? The last one was really starting to grow on me..."

Well, sorry. Sorry sorry sorry. There's been so much that's happened in recent weeks, not that anyone visiting this page would know it. I've been neglectful. I know that.

So, sorry. But, big news on the home front for the wife and I...

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Part 2: Out with the Smeller

We all remember Susan, right? Smelly, creepy realtor-sans-hygiene? Well, the coda to that whole story: we dumped her. Goodbye, Century Twenty-One.

Here was the trouble: the woman was unable to get it through her greasy head that we simply could not involve ourselves with a one-bedroom place. Always the same thing, whenever she'd show us her latest discovery:

SUSAN: Well, this is it! I'm warning you, it's a real charmer!

US: It looks... nice...

SUSAN: It's in the upper reaches of your price range, but I think you'll see it's worth it. How 'bout that curb appeal?

US: Very cute. Um, so, how many bedrooms?

SUSAN: This one? Just one.

US: Ah. You do remember that I've got a business. I need an office. We can't have less than two bedrooms. That's, you know, that's the deal.

SUSAN: Well, sometimes it's worth it to sacrifice for awhile to get what you really want later on.

US: Hhh... it's not a 'want', it's... how many bathrooms?

SUSAN: One.

US: Uh-huh. Parking?

SUSAN: I'll have to check. I don't think there's any parking.

US: Uh-huh. And, so, what would be the advantage of moving here? Currently we've got two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a garage and we're paying less money than we would be here.

SUSAN: Well, you're building equity for one thing!

US: Equity. Right.

SUSAN: It's like money in the bank!

US: So's the ability to run my own business.

Really, she just couldn't understand the idea of base-level living needs and if she couldn't find a place that met them, well, there really was nothing left to talk about. At one point she even had me half-convinced that an extra-sized coat closet near the front door might just make for a jim-dandy office area.

A coat closet.

No, Smeller. No way.

So we bailed. We resigned ourselves to simply being too poor to be homeowners in So-Cal for the time being. Maybe in a year or two, if we could get our butts in gear, savings-wise. Maybe.

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Part 3: Meanwhile... -or- Don't F*ck with the Happiest Place on Earth

Carey and me at the Aquarium of the Pacific. For the sake of ambiance, we decided to pay the extra cash to have our picture taken at the bottom of the sea with a whale flying over our heads. I think it adds something, don't you? Click to enlarge.

Carey and me at DisneyLand. I asked them if it was okay to post this on my website and they said it was fine, but I have to mention that The Lion King - Special Edition is coming this October to Disney DVD. Catch the feeling! Click to enlarge.

Weeks passed, as did our 3rd wedding anniversary. 3 big years equals 3 big days of revelry in the Bear household, so we spent a day at Long Beach's Aquarium of the Pacific (refer to the right), another day at DisneyLand (refer to the right) and on the third day (our actual anniversary) we exchanged gifts and went out for a rather nice dinner at Bono's (you'll have to take my word for it).

The Aquarium was very interesting, albeit slightly stressful. It may have been the Memorial Day crowds that set our teeth on edge, but I have to say: there were more than a few sights to behold. Our favorites were the sea lion and jellyfish exhibits . Aside from annoyances like a 5-bucks-a-head 3-D presentation film that failed to work (not that that stopped them from taking our money) and puzzlers like seafood concession stands in the midst of all the fish exhibits and "preserve our oceans" propaganda... we had a very nice time. I'd recommend the place to anyone.

DisneyLand. "The Happiest Place on Earth" to quote the literature. This place was a marvel. Truly a triumph of modern ingenuity. From the second you pull onto the lot and into the massive parking structure, your experience is managed by nearly a century of theme-park know-how. The thing that impressed me most about the DisneyLand experience was the near-lack of waiting. Now, maybe we just went on a light day, but it seemed that Michael Eisner and his think tank had spent a few sleepless nights devising ways to get visitors in and out of attractions with utmost efficiency.

One of the cleverest DisneyLand ideas had to be the FastPass. The FastPass is a little console at the start of the line on the major rides and attractions... slide your ticket through the console et voila! Your place is saved in line and a printout tells you when to come back to jump in the game. Smart, I tell ya! Smart!

Carey's favorite was the Dumbo ride. Granted, it's not much: sit in one of about 15 big, plastic Dumbos and spin around, carousel style, with a little joystick up/down control on a panel in front of you. Make no mistake, though: there is indeed some stern competition when it comes to the Dumbo ride... for when the gates open, there's a mad dash of greedy children, all after their coveted favorite color of Dumbo. It's an unspoken pecking order: purple and pink Dumbos are your premium picks. Blues follow close behind. Greens and Oranges are fine if there's nothing else left. Yellows are for the chumps. The handicapped kids with slow parents end up with the yellows. It's not pretty. Carey had her eye on a very specific pink one, so when our turn came up, the race was on. I've never seen anything like it.

ME: Go! Go! Go!

CAREY: The pink one on the far right! We'll never get there in time! The little girl in the unicorn sunglasses is all over it!

ME: No way, we're faster! Come on!

CAREY: Here's a purple. It's a dead lock. Let's cut our losses and--

ME: Forget it, we're getting pink. Look, she's hesitating! Move!

CAREY: What if she--

ME: What, do you want to end up with a yellow?! Move! MOVE!

And, fortunately, we did get a pink. It's all about keeping your eye on the prize at DisneyLand.

But, woof, the cleanliness of this place! That might have been what impressed me the most. Not one piece of trash anywhere. Not one stain. Not one sidewalk crack. The life advertising has always promised us can really be yours at DisneyLand. I considered spitting my gum out onto the ground, but hesitated. I asked Carey what she thought and she shook her head: uh-uh, buddy. You want 50 trained Disney cast members descending on you like Greek Furies? Mind your Ps and Qs.

A really great day. And our tickets were free, courtesy of our fine friend Michael DePuy. Much thanks, sir.

Oh, and the following day was May 28. Our official anniversary. Dinner at Bono's (of Sonny and Cher fame... their daughter, specifically) was delicious. Carey got me a DVD I'd been wanting and a very, very cool money clip (so, now, I'm not only chain-less... I'm also wallet-less. Hah.)

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Part 4: House-Hunting Slick-Willy-Style

Realty is a shady racket, it really is. Let's say you're living in Southern California, paying about $1000 in rent for a two bedroom, 1.5 bath place. (Actually a pretty phenomenal deal for these parts). So, one day you open up the newspaper and you're assaulted with realty ads:

"Only $1,500 down and $800 a month to own your own 2 bed, 2 bath condo! Call now!"
"No money down and $1100 a month for your very own house near the beach! Take advantage of these interest rates while they last!"

So, of course, you think "huh! I could be owning something better than I'm renting now for basically the same amount of money! Sign me up!" Then, of course, you call and the realtor tells you "whoops, those are all gone, but come on in and I'll show you some terrific one-bedroom places for just under $1900 a month." By the time you get the truth out of them (these deals never DID exist in the first place... or, at least, not the way they're represented in the ads), you've already invested hours and sometimes days listening to their schpiel and you're ready to start compromising all the decisions you'd originally made for the sake of owning instead of renting.

It sucks. It's dishonest.

I'd become jaded, at this point, to the realty ads. Carey, however, had not. She was sure that there must be SOMEbody who was representing themselves authentically in these ads, which is how she came to call Choice Real Estate. She came to me a couple of weeks ago and said, "Jer, I've made an appointment with a guy to look at some condos."

"Care, come on. We've been 'round this a dozen times. We can't afford to own right now. That's it."

"No, I talked to the guy. He's nothing like the Smeller. He can help us out."

"Help us out with what? We can't afford anything in Long Beach that has more than one bedroom."

"This guy says he thinks we can. He's gonna show us some stuff."

"Who guy?"

"His name's Keston. Listen, it's just a meeting. Who knows?"

"Hhh... Keston, huh?"

"Yeah, but... well, I should warn you. He's slick. Like, with his words. He's the kind of guy who could talk you into anything if you let him. You know those kinds of guys?"

"Carey."

"But I have a really good feeling!"

"CAREY."

So we went and met Keston. As it turns out, he was completely odorless. Well-dressed fellow. Groomed. Nothing greasy at all, which was a good sign.

Now I can't lie about old Keston: Carey was right about the 'slick factor.' We told him our respective incomes and he asked us why on earth we were only looking in the 175k range. We told him that was as good as we could do, especially since we didn't qualify for the FHA loan (a government loan for young, first-time professionals looking to eventually haul big money into the urban areas if they can just manage to get on their feet. Great interest rates with easy payment options). "I can get you that loan," he said, "no problem."

So, boom-boom-boom, we were pre-approved and Keston penciled us in to look at 3 places downtown on a Tuesday evening. Before we left to go meet him, he gave us a call to confirm we were coming. Before hanging up, he said five words to Carey that made us panic a bit:

"Oh, and bring your checkbook."

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Part 5: A Dream Come True or a Nightmare on Elm Street?

The first place Keston showed us was exactly what we'd imagined when we began thinking about owning a condo: very spacious living room and two bedrooms (certainly more than what we've got currently), a secure garage with two spots (!), nice 4th floor view of the city, two full baths, good-sized balcony, full-sized washer-dryer, dishwasher, etc. etc. The place was simply nice. We loved it from the start. It was right at the edge of all the new areas being developed downtown, too, which made it a very sensible investment. It was on Elm St. and asking price was slightly above 200k (a bit below market for the property and the area).

After we'd looked around, Keston asked, "do you like this place?"

"Yeah, it's great."

"Could you see yourself living here?"

"Well, sure, you know. Of course. If we can afford it."

"Okay. Good. Let's move on."

The second place was also good and was asking less than 180k. Two stories, three bathrooms, and all the usual goodies. Not quite as pristine as place #1, though. Cool nonetheless.

"Do you like this place?"

"Yeah."

"Could you see yourself living here?"

"I think so. If the price was right, sure."

"Okay. Good. Let's move on."

Place #3. Asking around 215k. Easily the highest-end of all the places. Beautiful decor (tight living space, though). In a unit containing an indoor pool and a gym. Glass elevators. Lovely garden areas. Kind of like a tropical resort. Very, very nice. Almost too nice. And, Carey's dream-within-a-dream: hardwood floors.

"Do you like this place?"

"Oh, yeah. It's terrific."

"Could you see yourself living here?"

"Man, I don't know. It's pretty nice, especially for us. But if the cash makes sense... sure. Why not?"

"Okay. Good. Let's move on."

We headed back to Keston's office. He confirmed our feelings about all three places and asked our order of preference. After some deliberation, we told him: Best-#1. Next best-#3. Least-#2. But, of course, we loved all of them.

KESTON: That sounds good to me. I think your order of preference makes sense, especially considering the things that are most important to you. So, are we ready to write an offer?

JER: Wh--! Tonight?!

KESTON: Sure. You liked each place, right?

JER: Well, yeah, but...

KESTON: You can see yourselves living there.

JER: I guess so... uh--

KESTON: And the financials seem to make sense, right?

JER: Yeah, I guess I just... look, can you give us tonight to talk it over and we'll call you in the morning or something? It's just so fast.

KESTON: Sure. Talk it over. In the meantime, we need to write an offer, though.

JER: Er, isn't that backwards? Shouldn't you talk-then-offer?

KESTON: Not in Southern California real estate. All three of those properties could be gone in the morning and they were all listed in the last couple of days. If you need to back out, I can take care of that for you. But if you're even considering, you need to make an offer. It's how the game is played.

JER: Man, I don't know.

CAREY: Let's do it.

JER: Care...

So, in the end, we held our breath and jumped in. At Keston's counsel, we wrote offers on all three places and (good lord), we even wrote a $3,000 "good faith" check in the event that any of the offers were accepted. It was precisely what I'd planned not to do, and there we were... doing it.

We went home. We waited.

A couple of days later, Keston called: we were sorely out-bid on places #2 and #3. Not even a chance. But, good news... #1 (the Elm property) read our offer and thought it sounded like a good deal. They accepted.

"Congratulations," he told us, "you're going to be homeowners."

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Part 6: Making Sense out of Dollars -or- Lost in Escrow

Needless to say, our lives have been thrown into overdrive. I started calling in all debts and working my tukus off. Carey, fortunately, was just promoted to the position of Floor Manager, which came complete with a nice little raise. (And that's its own story. More later.)

On Wednesday, we went in to sign a friggin' mountain of papers and to fill out our official FHA application. We've been given more information in the past two weeks than any person of moderate intelligence and/or sanity could possibly expect to organize and catalogue, much less remember.

We've officially begun the Escrow process, which is 45 days. That means that IF both parties continue to feel good about the whole thing and IF the government doesn't find anything fishy with our loan applications and IF we can manage to stay on track with our current finances and IF the city of Long Beach can avoid some sort of natural disaster... well, then, we're in business come the first weekend in August. (The weekend in between my sister's wedding and my dad's wedding, as it happens. Cripes.)

We're feeling good. A few things have made me uneasy, I'll admit. For one thing, Keston called his wife in to do our loan processing (which seemed, accountability-wise, to a be a slight conflict of interest for us. I dunno). I'm still unclear on how the tax-break works out for us and how we can manage to snag it on a monthly basis, rather than a yearly basis (without the tax break, we truly can't afford this whole endeavor).

Mathew, the seller, agreed to include the fridge and washer-dryer and everything in the deal, thank goodness. We've written a few more checks since then to cover costs like official inspections and appraisals, etc. Make no mistake: first-time buying is an expensive proposition.

Fortunately, the FHA loan (fingers crossed) will be giving us an utterly incredible 4% interest rate (adjustable), which is the lowest interest rates have been in nearly 50 years. Every person I've talked to about our home-buying situation has agreed: yes, this is the time to get in. We have a lot of friends here in So-Cal that rent and the comment I hear most often, by far, is "wow, congratulations. That's great... damn, I really need to do that."

So, when all is said and done, the outlook is good but we're not out of the woods by any means. Probably the biggest risk right now is the FHA loan. From what we understand, it's very easy for the government to wrinkle its nose at your financials and give you the wave-off, even if the process is well underway. Nothing is 100% and anything could go wrong. But, we're hoping and praying. Thanks for doing the same.

It's a really grown-up thing and, frankly, no, I don't feel ready. But, this may be as ready as I'll ever feel. So, out with renting baby! It's dead to us! Time for the idea of rent to hit the karmic wheel and let escape velocity take care of the rest. Heave ho!

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Part 7: A Few 'By the Ways'

Other things have been going on in our lives. Stuff that I'd usually report on, but most of it seems to pale a bit in light of our current big news. But, just for giggles...

- I'm co-writing a musical. It'll be produced this December in Huntington Beach.

- I've switched hosting companies. Seanic is officially history and my life has improved leaps and bounds. Enter CrystalTech, who's service is astoundingly good and astoundingly inexpensive.

- A lot of interesting art projects lately. Not to mention several websites of mine that are completed and live. I really will post them/link to them. Really.

- I've named my own business and have begun to concept my new business identity and website. Very soon, JeremyBear.com will simply be a personal spot for me to romp and play around, rather than a place to hawk my wares. My new business? Eh... I'll save that one for later. Keep checking.

- If it's not already obvious, I'm taking a minor respite from the 1-page suggest-a-script bit. Life is far too insane at the moment. I may do the odd one here and there, but don't expect much for the next couple of months. I'll get back to it, but I really need a breather.

- Another screenplay in the works and it looks as though this one could most certainly happen. Ben Bays is attached. More later.

- My hair has reached personal-record length and scraggliness. It's getting out of control and I'll soon need to rectify matters. A few days ago, the wife pony-tailed it. Sheesh.

- Thanks to anyone (if, indeed, there was anyone) who heeded the message on my homepage concerning Fantagraphics Books. I'm told they are indeed out of the woods, financially speaking and I'm certainly enjoying the books I ordered from them to help out. It's not to late to order some great stuff, though. Just so you know.

- Andy Jewett (not only a friend from the college days, but one of my few fellow art majors who's company I genuinely enjoyed and who's talent I genuinely respected) has redesigned his website, so I thought I'd give him a plug, even though the nervy git's homepage outshines my own in every way. Feh! He does link to me, though, so I guess I can't complain. Nice stuff indeed, Andy! Go visit.

- Next weekend, I'm going to see my very favorite performer for the last 5 years or so live in concert for the first time, thanks to my wife's generosity. I'm dizzy with anticipation: it's Beck at the Verizon Amphitheater. Yahoo!

- Next month, another little dream comes true: I'll be attending the world's largest comic convention in history... San Diego's Comicon 2003. I've wanted to go since... zounds... middle school. It'll be a hoot, I'm sure.

That's all for now. (Whew!) Here's to another year of quality Blogging.

posted by Jeremy Bear 12:07 PM

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