Monthly Archives: February 2018

No Shows

The last time I wrote, I was about to host my fourth homebuying class. Bubbey was all worried about no one showing up, but given that at least SOMEone had turned up at all of the last three times, I thought it was a an unlikely concern. Boy was I wrong. That day, the weather ended up being awful: cold, windy, rainy. I had invited a guest speaker too– a tax preparer who had created slides and everything for her talk. I had 7 people registered, and even now, days later, I CANNOT believe zero people came. It was awful. I mean, yes, I had already done my PowerPoint from before, but I dunno, there was the set up, the lugging of snacks and drinks, the handouts, the folders, I had prepped a new tax info sheet… all for nought. And then I felt so embarrassed for my loan officer and the guest speaker who had spent their time to do this with me.

When I texted him that no one came, Bubbey texted back a picture of Bentley. And he wrote “we love you and we believe in you.” And then my eyes started welling up… I mean, after seven long months (since my last close) and hustling most of the time along the way, how long is my family going to stay here just to battle it out, to fulfill my desire for “success”? John’s sick of the Bay Area, it’s bloody expensive, we don’t take advantage of half the amenities of being in Norcal… what is this all for? The tears stayed in, and somehow I managed not to cry in front of my loan officer. The tax preparer jetted as soon as it was 10 minutes past. But after I got home, I really felt like, “What’s the fucking point.” Just cash out on the house and move on already. Yet another failed career. Chock it up.

I mean, maybe all of this sounds overly dramatic, but damn, I felt like shit. I thought I was getting closer with the increased activity and the traction from the Iranian agent, but two months in, it wasn’t going anywhere. All action, no progress. The negativity was hitting an all-time high.

The Whim of Others

As you probably can guess, one of my favorite aspects of my new career is the control: I get to make all the decisions related to how I want to run my business and where I want to focus my energies. The shitty part, as I’ve mentioned before, involves lead gen and related to that, dealing with people. Seriously, I encounter THE worst kinds.

For example, the other day, my friend saw a For Sale sign in her neighborhood. Thinking that it might be an opportunity for her out-of-town parents, she asked me to look into it. I learned that it was a probate sale requiring court confirmation. My coach was attending a conference, but I called him to get the low down on how that stuff works. Sometimes, things can be a little complicated when involving the attorneys and courts. He gave me some thoughts, and I reached out to the list agent. Mind you, all over the listing, the agent wrote to call him for details about the process. You know, like it was complicated and needed explanation. I had been out and about, so I emailed him first asking for whatever info he could provide. I told him I would call the next morning. He replies with three lines: cash only, court date, bids above XYZ, vacant.

So Saturday rolls around, and I call him around noon. I was very polite. Do you have a few minutes to talk? Yes. So I start asking him about the protocol, including why the offer has to be cash only and how is the bidding done. I throw out what my coach says just as a starting point to confirm the accuracy, and then the agent cuts me off, saying my info is all wrong. I ask him a few clarifying questions, and he says, “Do you have a managing broker? You need that person to train you up on this. I’m not going to train you on my time.” I just say a few more words and then he cuts me off and says, “I’m done. Have you even seen it yet?” No, I was planning to see it tomorrow. “Call me after you see it.” Click.

He was so incredibly rude. I looked him up afterwards to see where a bastard like this comes from, and he was a former director of the CA Association of Realtors. Say what??? I mean, I get it. Time is precious and I probably should have read the special probate contract before calling, but I thought it would just take a few minutes and I wanted to glean some additional info about the sale. Nope. Could NOT be bothered. I mean, Jesus Christ. As a former director, he could at least be professional and nice. Just tell me you’re busy and advise that I contact my broker for more details… Sheesh. I was so annoyed by this behavior. And yet, what can you do. I have to just shake it off and move on. Part of the job. God, what an asshole he was!

Meanwhile, I’m still working with four buyers. All of them all over the damn place. Seriously. One day, a buyer’s adult daughter tells me he’s in the market for duplexes in Santa Clara County, $1.2 to $1.5M budget. Less than 24 hrs later, scratch all that: The Dad actually wants a mobile home. I don’t want to be elitist or anything BUT mobile homes are an entirely different beast, bc they are not real property. They are like vehicles. And the budget is $200-$300k with mobile home parks as far as south county.

I’ve been going out to see places with my other buyer. Never sees anything he likes. If there is something the slightest bit interesting, personal stuff keeps coming up (he has a newborn) and we never proceed to reviewing disclosures and writing an offer.

My third buyers are the Chinese couple from out of state. They keep wanting what is simply not in our market: new construction, large lot. I keep sending them the new actives, and nothing interests them. I ask if they want to alter their criteria. No, we want to wait.

Finally, this morning, they contact me about a new listing that’s new construction but smaller lot (so they ARE modifying their parameters). It opens tomorrow with all the disclosures posting then. By this afternoon, they say, forget it– it’s close to the Caltrain. I suggest another new construction in Menlo Park. What about this? What about a third new one in Mountain View? Nope. We wait. So here I am, two months of hard core hustling (still dealing with my cough, btw) and still at Square 1. I’m so frustrated.

Tonight, I have my second homebuying class of the month. For the first class, eight people registered. Three came. People think just bc something is free they can blow through shit. It’s way inconsiderate, but then again, I dunno why I would be surprised. Tonight’s class has six people registered. It’s been cold and rainy. I texted people to say I look forward to seeing them… we’ll see if that does anything. I called John and he said he’s all stressed out for my classes. I was like, Huh? Why are YOU stressed? Bc it’s so much work and prep and setup and then no one comes.

I mean, it IS demoralizing. My second class last May was like 30 minutes past start time and NO ONE showed. I was about to cry. Now I feel ok though. I mean, I do have to schelp folders and handouts and drinks and goodies and all that. But at least I pretty much know my slides so it’s not like I wasted weeks rehearsing. Fingers crossed tonight will be a decent turnout.

Revelations

Earlier this month, after working with Bentley on his fear (he’s been hiding under the bed anytime he suspects an ear treatment or something similar is up my sleeve), I had to take him back to the vet for the second booster shot of the canine flu vaccine. I decided to fly solo on this mission bc Bubs was out of town and in anticipation of a bad experience, I figured it would be better to associate this with just one owner rather than both. He entered the lobby and exam room just fine. It was a different vet team that day and having gotten the memo, they asked me to put on a basket muzzle, which he let me do. But then he started getting worked up again. They couldn’t give him the shot bc he kept thrashing around. Ultimately, two other techs came in and had to pin him down. It was an overwhelmingly emotional sense of helplessness and despair. Why is he doing this? The panting, the thrashing, the barking… immediately afterwards, they let me remove the muzzle and he willingly took treats from their hands. But I was… I dunno how to describe exactly… but a little afraid but mostly just out of ideas on what was happening and how this was going to be a resolvable issue. I started crying and the staff tried to comfort me by saying that he wasn’t trying to harm anyone: he was just scared. Yeah, but why is he so scared? It just didn’t make sense. Is he crazy? They said he wasn’t trying to bite them; he was more bark than anything. It was like they were trying to console and convince me that he didn’t have bad intentions.

It was a bizarre experience. Afterwards, my thighs were all scratched and bruised. I had been wearing a dress and boots. I didn’t even feel the marks he had left in the moments of going ballistic. But I thought to myself: this must be what it feels like to have a special needs child– one where you don’t understand and you can’t communicate. But just in a matter of seconds he goes from calm and fine to 100% unrecognizable. I thought of our nephew C and how as he got older, the mounting frustrations of not being able to communicate, manifested as violent and sometimes destructive outbursts and behaviors. I thought about how scary it must have been for his parents. And I kept thinking to myself: what am I gonna do with this?

The staff gave me pamphlets and brochures on fear aggression and training and desensitization. I had read up on that previously. I mean, was the answer to keep taking him to the vet for treats? Build a relationship with one vet and one team? It all seemed so unreliable. Is he not supposed to get regular checkups and treatment? I mean, shepherds are notorious for health issues… he will NEED to get medical treatment throughout his lifetime. I went home exhausted and defeated.

Later that day, I spoke with my friend N, the vet. She said you know, there are meds you can give him to take the edge off. I dunno what I was thinking, but that option hadn’t even entered my brain. Well, duh. Yes, I will need to take that route. Is it a shortcut? Probably but you know what? I don’t know that I’m that convinced on building a relationship with a singular vet. I mean, that seems like a major time sink with not enough flexibility. What if she leaves the practice or isn’t on call the day we go? The reminder of a drug option gave me some comfort.

Oddly enough, later that same day, his previous owner texted me. How are things going, etc. I texted that he went ballistic again at the vets. Any insights? No. He never liked the vet or shots, but he never displayed fear aggression. Hmm. Then, lots of back and forth: she sent me his baby pics. Then, a picture of him wearing a cone collar.

That’s weird. What was that for? I’ve only seen those used for post-surgery. Oh when Bentley was living with my ex, he went missing for a few days and was found with a broken leg. It required surgery, he has a pin in his leg, and he was in confinement at the vet for more than two weeks. Ummm, yeah. That MIGHT just constitute a traumatic event, don’t you think?

I mean, I’m a gullible person, so I never think that people are concealing information from me. But Bubs adds that since we got him, it’s just been one extra tidbit after another that doesn’t quite jive. For example, he was listed as 2 y/o on the website. Turns out he’s 4.5 y/o. Then they gave us a bag of dry food. He wasn’t eating it at all. Turns out Mom made homecooked food for him. Then, no aggression issues/trauma and he actually broke his leg! I mean, dunno. Shit happens. There are a lot of details to relay to the new owners. And maybe for some people, these would have been dealbreaker issues that would have prohibited him from getting into a good home. I don’t honestly know. They aren’t dealbreakers for us, but certainly, we’re both engineers: we like to be thorough and comprehensive with our information, you know?

I still think she was a good owner who loved him very much. She tried her best to give him a safe and stable home. And I’m sure the surgery cost A TON, which is not easy for most families. J feels like they have lost credibility. I still choose to like them and honor them. After all, they gave us Bentley. And even with his issues, Bentley is a good boy and we feel lucky to have him.

Sick As A Dog

Well, I have now been sick for over a month. Fucking A! It all started at the turn of the year. Picked up the flu when I went to the doctor for my wellness exam and flu shot. Learning from my past lessons, I did not delay and contacted the doctor as soon as the symptoms came on. Went on Tamiflu. Then, at week 3, still had a lingering cough and still fatigued super easily. Called the advice line. Doctor prescribed five days of Zithromax antibiotics. Another week later (week 4, if you’re still keeping count), STILL coughing (dry cough) and still tired as fuck. Add in stuffy nose and sneezing fits. Yesterday, I called the doctor again. She insists that her constitution is like mine: she gets sick a LOT and for a long time each incidence. She thinks the cough is lingering bc now with the hot weather (yes, it’s been high 70s– unseasonably warm), our allergies are getting triggered, which makes recovery from the flu/cold take longer, plus the throat/nose are irritated. Ugh. It really is a pain in the ass getting tired every few hours. I know, this damn Year of the Dog has got me sick as a dog.

Meanwhile, my Peruvian posse visited last Saturday and left yesterday morning: this time 3 adults and 2 kiddos (4 y/o and 1 y/o). Due to work, which has been picking up like a mofo, I mostly just saw them for breakfast and dinner. Still, it was a good visit. I’ve hung with P’s youngest sister several times but this was the first time meeting the eldest, on her inaugural trip to the USA. They are super duper whirlwind travelers: In 15 days, they are doing SF, Vegas, and Disney/LA. All by car. Makes me tired just thinking about it.

Btw, I’m happy to report that our tiny houseboat has a sustainable carrying capacity for five adults, two kids, and one polar bear. I think I’ve finally got the Houseboat on a system where stuff is clean and things are relatively organized. My office/guest room is looking pretty good. Last year, I got storage cabinets and drawers for my work files so the paperwork is organized (mostly); the CB2 Lubi lounger is working out well as an expandable guest bed; and the room is really bright and colorful. My latest addition is a purple rug that I picked up for free two doors down. Who knows what it was used for previously, but my neighbor is a retired realtor who has a beautiful home, so I’m going to assume it wasn’t a shit-encrusted rug.

John also rearranged his desk recently so now his office is way bigger. We were able to fit a monster air mattress in there for my friend P. The babies were incredibly good. I mean, the 1 y/o is super active and gets into EVERYTHING. His poor mother is exhausted! Our home is not kiddie-proofed at all, so suddenly, all my remotes and coasters and decorative pieces ended up high up on the fireplace mantle. But those kids. SMH. They left the house for SF touristy activities and were out ALL DAMN DAY, like 12 hours?!?!?! I mean, not to be judgey but how come some kids can only last 2 hours max? Is it the kids or the parents? I dunno. But again, all of this just re-enforced how happy I am to NOT to be a human parent.

That said, Bentley is having his quirks. I tried to switch him to 100% dry food and he went on a hunger strike for days. WTF. I mean, it’s like a test of the wills over here, and it’s not pretty. Bubs made me cave after two days so I threw in my Rover dog’s canned food that was left with us. Argh. Fine, now I’ve ordered some canned to mix to go with the dry. Fucking picky eater. I was wanting the all dry food diet to keep his teeth clean… guess I have to pick and choose my battles with this special needs dog.

Also, he is still exhibiting trust issues after I had to do the ear flushes. He’ll let me do it still (now only weekly instead of daily) but he still tries to run away and he whimpers about it. Big baby. Then there was an incident where the 4 y/o was petting him and then she was going to brush him. He lied down all submissive and then suddenly barked and growled at her. I’m telling you, that’s going to be my biggest stressor– his unpredictability. Sure, he’s only been with us four weeks. Still. I mean, he’s at a size where he can really hurt someone, so after that, I am being hyper vigilant.

I mean, from what I’ve read, with fear aggression (vs. territory or possession or dominance aggression), he will try first to run and hide. The barking is also a signal to leave him alone. With other forms of aggression, the dog is more dominant and confident and will attack/provoke but… still. I just feel like I can’t let my guard down. I have to watch for his body language and signals. Thankfully, the girl was hardly even phazed. I was so surprised that neither she nor her 1 y/o brother were intimidated by Bentley’s size.

I’ve been reading up on dog training. That shit sure has changed in the last 15 years. Maybe it’s similar to how much parenting has changed: it’s all about desensitization + positive reinforcement for troublesome scenarios. No more training where you rule through fear.