I think I mentioned that I bought a house last week. *pulls out paper bag and breathes deeply several times* I also put my wee Hoboken pad on the market. The thing is, she (much like my little brother) is not getting much action.
Obviously I’m not doing a very good job of keeping my pimp hand strong here. She’s been on the market seven days (*shakes fist at the heavens and shouts* SEVEN DAYS!) and exactly three people have turned out to peek under her skirt. One of those peeps was my neighbor from up the block that popped in for the open house just to see what our place was like so he could better determine the list price for his apartment that he’s about to put on the market. He’s not exactly the market I’m trying to reach.
Now I’m all obsessing about how to get my apartment sold. The good news is it half keeps my mind off my rapidly approaching scans. The bad news is IT’S MAKING ME FUCKING CRAZY. I’m talking Alec-Baldwin-on-his-daughter’s-voicemail crazy. Maybe even Lindsay-Lohan-when-she-can’t-find-her-coke crazy. I still haven’t reached Tom-Cruise-on-Oprah’s-couch or Paula-Abdul-on-strange-meds crazy but I fear it’s only a matter of time.
I need a plan. STAT.
As always in a time of crisis, I turned to the most level headed sage of the Interwebz – The Bloggess. She is also trying to sell her house. Her realtor told her to bury a St. Joseph statue upside down in her front yard right next to the For Sale sign.
Houston, we have a problem. Technically we have several problems.
1 – I’m not Catholic. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve spent some time in Catholic churches, but I’m always the gal sitting all alone in the pew while the rest of the congregation stands in line for the free samples they pass out near the altar. I’m not really looking to get struck down by a bolt of lightening for crossing some sort of line in proper non-Catholic etiquette…again.
2 – I don’t have any spare saint action figures sitting around the house. I have a Fish Out of Water pez dispenser that might work in a pinch. I suppose I could part with Red but I would have to be really desperate. Do you think I could just make a cross out of some plastic knives and call it done? Seriously, I kind of doubt they sell these things at my local CVS.
3 – I don’t have a front yard. I have a front stoop, or rather the building has a front stoop. I can’t imagine they’d be down with me jack hammering up a chunk of the concrete to place my faux catholic pez charade underground. As for the For Sale sign, it is bolted to the wrought iron gate in front of our stoop – it’s sharp legs, designed to sink into soft soil, scrape against the sidewalk when the gate moves. The best I could do at this point is duct tape my pez dispenser upside down to the back of the sign and hope that some partying Wall Street type doesn’t rip it off in a drunken stupor next Saturday night. Do you think that might stand a chance of working?
Help me Interwebz! Do you know any secret voodoo chants or ritual sacrifices guaranteed to speed up the sale of my apartment? If you don’t come up with something good, I’ll be forced to include links like this in my blog on a daily basis. Nobody wants that. (Well, obviously some people want that but I’m hoping not many of you like unicorns THAT much.)
While I’m being needy and asking you to do things, don’t forget to enter my contest/writing challenge/giveaway. It’s getting VERY interesting.