Dreaming of Condos

In that past month I have been seriously looking at purchasing a condo and believe that I have found the perfect one. Of course, everyone else thinks they have also found the perfect one so my hopes in getting it, even offering asking price instead of low-balling an offer, are rather slim.

Nevertheless, I'm still trying to work through the entire process of putting down an offer and getting educated on what needs to happen. And the honest truth on how I'm feeling right now? A) definitely overwhelmed, and B) on the verge of pissing in my pants out of fear. The condo is more than what I expected to pay for a one bedroom, but the features, size, and views of the city and the lake are absolutely phenomenal. So beautiful that you'd want to make an offer too. So beautiful, there are at least twenty other agents whose clients feel the same way.

Will I get it? I have no idea, but I'm going to try. I don't think I want to go into a bidding war, so I'm going to offer a rounded up asking price. The thought that this is actually going through is scary. So many things that I need to learn and understand, I'm not sure if I'm ready to make an educated purchase. Everything about it screams prime investment opportunity and it doesn't seem like I can go wrong. Just waiting on my Uncle to do a check on the building and then I'll know for sure if I want to go through with this.

The mortgage is another thing, and while I'm confident I can get approved for the loan, there are still many variables to consider. Like, if I want to use what I've saved up, can I still get it approved? Should I borrow from my parents? If so, how much? How fast can I pay them back? How fast can I pay the bank? How am I going to save any freaking money?

AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

Assholes, movies, and infertility

I do not watch movies all that often. Unlike a lot of my friends, I hate sitting in a theatre, and even when I watch a movie at home, I tend to either cry my eyes out, hide behind a pillow or underneath a blanket (which is why I hate the theatre because I can't do any of those things!). I'm not safe from any movie--

Romantic comedies: I cry because they truly are the most perfect fantasy. And then I cry harder because the possibility of that happening to me is bleak. I'm still waiting. Tap tap tap.

Historical: I hide because I can never handle blood, murder, war. Historical movies always seem to be tragic (I know I'm wrong about this, but I can't think of any happy ones)

Horror: I don't even bother because it'll give me nightmares

Sci Fi/Fantasy: I like. A lot. Often no tears, no nightmares, and depending on the movie, no hiding. Okay maybe a bit of crying.

Today, I watched Children of Men (with the very delicious Clive Owen), and cried quite a bit, hid behind a pillow during all the fighting and fast forwarded when I didn't want to see people getting shot to bits. It takes place in 2027, where women have been infertile for 18 years. The entire world is in chaos, and the sexy Clive is entrusted with the mission of delivering this pregnant girl to the Human Project. It was really good, I promise you. I haven't read the book by PD James, although I will definitely try and find the time, but I found the movie at least to be the sort where you're screaming in the end that everything will work out despite the fact that nearly all of the characters die off [I apologize for spoiling it for you]. Even more traumatic is how I felt I was contributing to the world's infertility. Not that I'm in a rush to bare children, but being surrounded with articles about infertility, the role of the career woman and the low low birth rate as a result of the likes of me waiting longer to have children didn't leave me all warm and fuzzy inside.

There was an article in Maclean's discussing the declining birth rate, the continuing evolution of women in the workplace and our lives defined by career and not by the traditional role as mother and homemaker. And the big question of the whole article was, "What can we do to solve this?" [ie what could the government do to remedy this]. And my immediate response was not about ensuring more family time, or guaranteeing flexible hours. It was, "well maybe if men weren't such assholes, we would have an easier time". And before someone goes, "woah woah woah, hold it right there" I'm not saying all men are assholes and I'm sure even the assholes deep down inside aren't 100% asshole-like. Just like how deep down inside I'm not 100% bitch. I've noticed with my girlfriends that there seems to be a drought of decent and genuine people. I think I've been screwed over more often than number of times I've met someone decent. However, I've moved onto a new mantra that Ter has taught me. For every 100 assholes, there is one good one. So far at the rate of approximately 4 assholes per year, it will be about 25 years before someone good rolls along. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

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Mimi, this entry was for you. Bha ha ha. Happy Birthday! I hope you found it amusing, Lady :P

Didn't you know? Kids had pet dinosaurs!

Lately I've been reading and watching a lot of BBC news. During high school I used to read the BBC news online all the time, but with the transition to uni, and then to work, I sort of fell out of the loop and really only had time for the CBC [which still warrants a swoon]. My sister has since gotten me back in the groove of reading it. I'd like to think of it as a cleansing of the mind after having spent so many weeks in the US for work. The CBC is improving the amount of their international content, especially with shows like Around the World-- far better than any international content that American stations claim to have. The "if it doesn't involve us, it's not world news" mentality is borderline brainwashing, albeit, there are some stations and papers which give Americans a very very good view of the world.

So the point of this blog entry is about something I watched on the BBC website: Kentucky's Creation Museum. I had heard of this place before, but it was my first look inside at the exhibits of the museum. I respect all faiths, however, I get quite confused when these very devout individuals or organizations twist history and science to back up what they believe to be true, and in many ways is sooooo not the truth.

For example, the curator's firm belief that homo sapiens did in fact co exist with dinosaurs. Little did I know that children would frolic with raptors and other reptiles with very sharp teeth. All the power to scientists and Christians who are protesting against this museum.

Click here to watch.

Peace of Mind

I've grown rather tired of being constantly reminded of my failures as a daughter. Part of it is my fault, I admit it. I talk back when I feel it's necessary because I can't understand why I always have to take so much lip from my parents. Why is it that I'm always wrong? Why do I always have to just take it, as my father would put it? As I left the house to go see the Stills and Hawksley Workman at the Harbourfront, I called my friend Matt to see if he was interested in going. We ended up chatting for a bit, and he asked if I was okay and that eventually led to a brief venting session. It turns out that I'm not the only one who goes through this garbage-- in fact he knows a few people who go through the same things as me. Is this a fucking cultural thing? Is it just with the Chinese? Apparently not, which makes it more unfortunate. I would have felt better knowing all this negative bullshit, and constant nonconstructive criticism was concentrated in one group of people.

So I left for the concert in half tears still hearing my mom in my head, screaming that it was ridiculous of me to go to a concert alone, and even more ridiculous to go with my camera. If I can't find anyone to go with me, why should I let that stop me? If a person is always afraid to do things alone, or feels embarrassed, how are they even going to live? I did go to the concert alone, and I sat there in front second row watching these two bands perform and realized what it is about music and especially live music that makes me so friggin happy. It's that she can't take it away from me. Whether I'm alone, or I'm with a group of friends, I'm just so happy at that time and place not much else matters. She can't ruin my concert experience. At the end of the night it's just the performer opening themselves to a sea of strangers, while a whole bunch of people sing along, cheer and scream for something that they all share in common. I think it's the communication, the expression, the emotion, and the bonding (however impersonal it might seem) in something as simple as as concert. If this relationship or exchange of words and actions is so easy, why can't it be that easy at home?

FYI, I got some kick ass pictures at the concert and I'll be posting it on facebook soon.