I totally know what I'm doing...I think.

Guess who just got approved for a home loan yesterday?


*points thumbs at self*

That’s right, people. You’re looking at a future homeowner here. It’s a pretty exciting time, and a little overwhelming as well. I feel like I’ve now been officially inducted into the “Grown-up Club”. I mean, I already fit all the other criteria:


1. I am completely self sufficient. …Ok so maybe I pay a teenager to mow my lawn. Big deal. Like I’m gonna get all sweaty and manual labor-ey? Yeah, right.

2. I graduated high school. Barely.

3. I drive a car that is totally paid off – and the fact that it’s paid for is the only thing I like about it.

4. I balance my checkbook twice a week. And 90% of the time I even do it accurately.

5. I know how to unclog a toilet. I will plunge that shit like my life depends on it. (Pun totally intended.)

6. I no longer cringe at the idea of touching poo, boogers or scabs. After being a mom, you can’t shock me. Gross things are my forte.

7. I have things like Vick’s, Breathe Right strips, and heating pads on my nightstand.

8. I can buy alcohol. And Cigarettes. And porn! And I have proudly exercised each of those rights at one point or another. …Except the porn. Okay, okay. So I’ve bought porn. Like you haven’t?

9. I’m old enough to fight for my country. But I swear to God, if there’s ever a female draft for the army I’ll be the first bitch running to Canada, ey. I mean, I love the good ol’ U S of A, but my idea of a fight is a “Yo Momma” battle. And somehow I don’t think that would go very far in keeping me alive during combat.

10. I say things like:

“Because I said so.”

“Do as I say, not as I do.”

“As long as you live in my house, you’ll live by my rules.”

“Knock it off or so help me I will turn this car around!!”



All in all, I think I’m ready to finally have a place to call my own. Where there will be no looky-loos peeking in my windows or realtors constantly traipsing through with strangers. Where landlords will be a thing of the past, and I’ll be paying mortgage instead of rent.

And what’s the best part about looking at houses, you ask? Sweet, sweet revenge. Revenge for all those assholes that knocked on my door during dinner, asking me to show them my house without an appointment. For the jerks that walked through my house with muddy ass boots, while saying my bedroom paint job is hideous and that “something must be done about it.” For the realtor constantly asking me why his sign isn’t in the yard where it should be.

It’s not there because I hid it behind the tree. And I would do it again, too. Because when people don’t see the “For Sale” sign, they don’t circle the block six times to look at the house. Don’t they realize that every single time they drive by, my dog goes ape shit? And damn, let me tell you - that dog has an unbelievably shrill bark. I’m pretty sure it breaks the sound barrier.

But since I know absolutely nothing about pilot lights, roof maintenance, foundations, cabinetry or anything else home related I’ll have to take someone with me to look. Hell, a house could have a missing roof and I would totally buy it if it had a dishwasher.

Man, would I love a dishwasher. Dare to dream, my friends. Dare to dream.