2002-07-15 - 3:00 p.m.

On the internal soundtrack: "Movin' Out", Billy Joel

Memorandum

TO: Women with red hair, dyed or not
RE: Wearing Barbie-pink clothes

Please. NO.

The wisdom tooth panic continues. Although I think I've gotten it down to a level where I will not need to ask for an Atavan or Valium. I'll probably need to take a green pill in the morning, though. Sigh.

My parents called on Saturday morning and invited us up for Saturday dinner. We went. We were home in bed by midnight. It's been six months and this kind of thing still makes me all bubbly joyful.

I must remember the "bubbly joyful" sort of thing whenever I read about the stranglehold the unions and government has on people here in Philadelphia. This city and state are a libertarian's nightmare. It really is. Here's the latest: the wine-and-spirits industry here is completely state-run.

There's apparently a "Liquor Control Board" here instead of independent liquor stores. The government folks in Harrisburg decide what gets sold and how much to charge. Restaurants are NOT allowed to buy out-of-state, and there are almost no discounts for bulk purchases. And the LCB tacks on the handling charges and taxes, driving the price of a bottle of wine over what stores charge in other states. Technically, individuals aren't allowed to buy out-of-state either ($25-per-bottle fine) but that doesn't stop any of 'em from doing it anyway. I don't think I'm going to be buying MY wine from state stores. I'll get my parents to "give" it to us.

Now I know why there are so many BYOB restaurants. My one consolation in this matter is that my situation wouldn't improve if I moved to the suburbs.

(BTW, did I ever mention that the real estate taxes in most suburban areas we like are so much higher than city real estate taxes that the difference is sometimes more than my wage tax? That was pretty much what clinched the decision to buy in the city.)

Yesterday I went to two open houses in the Fairmount area. The first one was a huge, HUGE house, only 14 years old. It could have been a beautiful house, and it almost was, except for the following details:

- CAT PEE. Assaulted the nostrils upon entering the house. Ugh.
- Neglect. Worn floors, a filthy oven door, scuffs all over the walls, an overly mildew-y bathroom ... everything just felt dirty. Even their glass dining table was all smudged.

The house could have been an incredible showplace, especially because it was owned by a gay couple who had a flair for decorating. But the house was just so shabby, and it looked like they were complete and total slobs who had made a halfhearted effort to clean for showing the place. It was a shame.

It was a lesson to me. I *must* work hard to keep my next house nice. I will NOT have a house that looks like that in 10 years. My house in Virginia still looked new after two years -- we were really anal about not wearing shoes in the house and we did a lot of spot-painting -- but I need to watch it.

So anyway, I was standing there looking at the kitchen, and one of the owners came by and told me that the kitchen has a garbage disposal.

"OK," I said, confused. (So? I have always had a garbage disposal except when I grew up in NJ, where they are illegal.)

He didn't seem to like this reaction, so he elaborated: "It's a top-of-the-line, huge garbage disposal, heavy-duty."

WHAT is the BIG DEAL about a freakin' GARBAGE DISPOSAL? We rarely look at a house that doesn't have one. And Poindexter priced garbage disposals well under $200. Am I missing something? Why does everybody get so excited about garbage disposals?

I like garbage disposals just fine, but it's like people who try to sell you their used car and brag that they put in a new battery. Big fucking deal. I can put in a new battery by myself.

Anyway. The second open house was a surprise. I walked in and got a very strong sense of deja vu. And then I realized the house WAS "deja vu", in the literal sense: Poindexter and I had gone through it when it was on the market last September. Amazing. I dug through the records online and found out that was sold in October 2001, and that the new asking price is $70K more than what she paid for it then. I wonder if she'll get it all.

In between the two, I walked around a bit. That place is too quiet. The stores and restaurants are too far apart. I don't think I want to live there. At this point it's looking like there's only one neighborhood we really want to live in. There are two others I like, but we can't afford them. Blar.

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