Whispers
I've been keeping a secret from you, Internet. The secret has only existed for one day, but did you know that the passage of time is inversely proportional to the magnitude of a secret?
I haven't slept very much the last two nights, and when I have, I've managed to keep Simon from enjoying what few winks he's been getting: when he's just on the precipice of slumber after many hours staring at the ceiling or wandering around the dark apartment in his slippers and bathrobe, he's been victim to my sleep-thrasing, sleep-grunting, and sleep-kicking (only once, but HARD). We are restless and anxious and also very very tired.
In order to dispel any hopes/fears or neutral/disinterested thoughts that I might be pregnant, let me use pregnancy instead as a metaphor for what's actually going on. True, it might be my metaphor of choice when explaining everything from how to bake a cake to the best way to play the stock market, but it also, in this case, happens to be apt. Witness: the recent hours punctuated by nausea and cheek-clenched sprints, the appointments with experts, the "oh my hell what have we gotten ourselves into"s. I'm a bit of a limb-trembling, eye-twitching, ulcerating mess.
Keeping a secret like this, I imagine (and actually kind of know after my brief stint with that all-caps WHAT IF), that it's a bit like those early weeks of pregnancy, when you not only want to jump from rooftop to rooftop shouting the news because it's the biggest news evar but you feel like you have to because if you don't let it out, all that pent-up energy will blow off the top of your skull and shoot through the hole like Old Faithful. BUT ALSO a lot of us would feel like, with a secret this big, with a secret this unsure, we don't dare whisper a word about it to anyone, in fear of the Almighty Jinx. (Note: Although Jinx could ruin a wanted pregnancy, I don't think it can disintegrate an unwanted one. Can you imagine all the unwed teenagers posting positive peestick jpgs on MySpace as a way of after-the-fact birth control? Yikes.)
You know Jinx, don't you? The superstition that even the unsuperstitious indulge in from time to time as a way of imposing their control on the vast uncontrollable universe? Jinx, like religion, has the power to charm the fence-sitters--caught between Belief and Non-Belief, they reason "if it's all a sham, it won't hurt to play along; and if it is true, playing along will only help." Thus we have the masses of noncommital faithful and casually superstitious.
Now it's audience participation time: Please to be sticking your bellies out and Care Bear staring us some good vibes while we wait on some very important news. Yesterday afternoon we signed and initialled eleventeen hundred documents, the result of which was an offer on a house (best evar). It has foundation issues! It has termites! It is absolutely perfect for us, and I want to invite you all over for dinner and games! Oh, and you should probably bring your bathing suits when you come(!!!).
The bad news is that even though it's been on the market for a while--so long that the price was reduced $20,000--we now find ourselves in competition with three other parties for it. How this will end is anybody's guess, although Simon and I are definitely up for a fight if that's what it takes. We'll armor our fists with dollars in place of brass knuckles. (Please mail your checks and money orders to my attention.)
After this morning's discussion with Simon about the impotency of superstition, I'm still crossing my fingers and toes and eyes that your bloggy superpowers will nevertheless help. Besides, asking for your good wishes isn't any more or less superstitious than keeping mum about the whole thing until we're under contract (or tossed out of the ring on our homeless asses with much crying and rending of garments), which, until this morning, was my original plan. But then Simon had to go and tell his mom and her best friend and his bandmate and Larry King and Oprah, and so then I went ahead and told my parents and one or two others, and now here we are, you and me, writing/reading about it on the internet. I'm sure you'll agree that it's at least more fun this way, especially since when the verdict comes in (5 p.m. tomorrow!), it will be more exciting to have you rejoice/despair with us rather than raise your eyebrows and ask "House? What house?" (I really can't wait to tell you about The House. Hopefully soon, I'll be able to tell you about Our House.)
One more bit of superstitious silliness and then I'm off to cultivate my stomach ulcers. Although we are aware that it is unwise to get attached to something that might be snatched away from us forever, we haven't been able to help ourselves. In addition to mentally decorating every inch of its glorious hardwood square-footage, we've made friends with the next-door neighbor, outlined a "christening" schedule, and discussed giving up The New Yorker for Sunset. Today I also Googled my way to a picture of one of the house's former owners.
This is Henry, newly endowed (by me) the Patron Saint of Buying This House. He lived in the (our?!) house in the 1940s. In addition to being quite the dapper fellow, he was also a member of a local ornithological society and the author of several books on birds. Perhaps it was he who was on the scene yesterday when we visited the house after signing bid documents all afternoon--Henry, the hummingbird, mistaking my ear for a cala lily and flying in close enough to whisper his blessing.
OMG that is so exciting!! I will be crossing my fingers for you!
Good Luck!
All appendages crossed, and yes, it does make things very difficult re: typing.
I'm doing a preliminary house happy dance for you!
Ohmigod! This is fantastic! Once the house is yours (see the positive thinking?) you are under STRICT ORDERS to post photos of every inch of that house, allowing those of us unfortunate perpetual-tiny-apartment-dwellers the ephemeral pleasure of living vicariously.
Gooooood luuuuuuuuck!
So, my great grandmother was known in our family as the four-leaf clover finder. She was always a rather lucky sort. Anyway, I have never, in all of my twenty-seven and a half years, found a four leaf clover. And today, while lying on the grass in the park with my boyfriend and my dog, I found FOUR of them. FOUR. I am happy to send some of that luck your way, though not all of it because I am getting on a plane in less than a week (!!!) and going to England.
Crossing all my bits for you both and sending all my positive thoughts across the Pacific to you...looking forward to hearing the 'official' good news! :)
He looks like Tom Skerritt. Good luck!
ah, bay area real estate wheeling and dealing is a bigger deal than pregnancy.
juniper was conceived after I had a mid-afternoon nervous breakdown when our offer was accepted on a 2BR place in the lower haight.
good luck!
Weeeeeeee!!!! Best wishes coming my way. Besides, we need somewhere to stay when we do our road trip ;)
I meant best wishes coming YOUR way. From me. Blame it on three kids making an awful racket in the background :)
House is HUGE!!! I can't wait to hear more!! I know of the Jinx and I know of the house mojo and I am sending you much vibage because clearly Henry wants you to have his house and make it your house! Woot!
Thrilling. Nerve-wracking. Exciting. Panic-Attack y.
I REALLY hope this works out for you two!
Your house-to-be has a pool?? Oooh I love when my favourite bloggers acquire property...just think of the photos! I'm thinking you all kinds of good thoughts :)
Awesome! I am sending lots of good luck and finger crossing to the west coast! :)
Good luck, I'll get my swim goggles ready.
Best of luck and fingers crossed! We've been through this process very recently and so I can relate. I wasn't "off edge" until after the inspections and negotiations, so be prepared. If it's the Right House, it will be Your House soon!
I like your positivity, and I'm sending some positivity of my own your way.
Go house go! I mean stay!
What a suspenseful entry! I'm on the edge of my seat here. Good luck!
good luck! I was a nervous wreck for the week!!! we had to wait to find out if we got our house. I hope you get good news today!
Eeeek! Good luck!
Fingers crossed!
Good luck! The offer waiting can be nerve wracking. (Just don't be dumb and leave your cell phone at work, which is your only means of communication with people, on the day it all happens. Sigh. That was really dumb. Really.)
Good luck! Good luck! I've watched enough House Hunters to know that the "will they accept the offer?" part is nail-bitingly excruciating. I'm rooting for you, maybe even a little bit because I know that your posts on moving/decorating/owning will be awesome. But mostly because you deserve it!
Wheeee! Join us in binding mortgage fun!
Awesome! Good luck!
Good luck! I will cross an odd number of fingers for you (that's my superstition.) Yay yay yay. BTW, I'm no dummy, I know house = one step closer to babies!
Lainey--If we get this house, I promise to shut up about Baby for at least three weeks. ;)
Excuse me, $20,000? Or $200,000? And if it's EITHER of those, can you please tell me how to find a house for that price in the Bay Area???? ;o)
Kate
Reduced BY $20,000, not reduced TO $20,000.
AWESOME!
just wanted to chime in with my OMG!!!
when will you know???
and to what address should we send whatever we find under the sofa cushions?
I've got 3050 sq. ft. on a golf course in Arizona. 5br, 3bth, 3 car garage. Great place to raise a horde of young'uns.
I'll take half of what that would go for anywhere in CA.
Make me an offer.
That is entirely too exciting. I'm hoping you get the house!
Incidentally, that same linear relationship holds for Money versus Problems. See the work of N. B.I.G. 1997.