Nobody Knows Anything

Welcome to Diane Patterson's eclectic blog about what strikes her fancy

Archives for July 2003

Checking in

Posted on July 23, 2003 Written by Diane

I almost titled this entry “Cracking up” but I have this thing about the power of words and self-fulfilling prophecies.

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I also almost wrote an entry detailing why things are difficult for me right now, but not only would I not get any sympathy from y’all, I’d probably get active hate mail. So let’s just put it that my life has changed dramatically from the first part of May. For example, Darin worked at home. So when I needed a break or to run an errand, he was there. This is not the case now. It’s different, and I haven’t adjusted yet.

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We live in a small town. The local weekly has on its cover this week the story of two English teachers at the local high school who fell in love and got married. It’s a cute story, but…um…slow news week?

Well, it’s better than yet another story about the Rampart district. Or cleaning up the Belmont site.

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Since I posted my discovery that I could go exercising after dropping Sophia off at preschool, I think I’ve gone out maybe once. So of course I get discouraged and think, “I’m never going to exercise or lose this damn weight!” and go out for a Frappucino. With whipped cream.

It’s amazing I’m not 300 pounds. There have been a lot of self-soothing Frappucinos of late.

Update: Um, of course what I meant to say is, “I have been using Frappucinos as self-medication” or something along those lines, not “Frappucinos are lonely and need love.” But you knew that.

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Part of the difficulties of adjusting to this move have been that I don’t have many friends around here. Actually, in the immediate five miles, I don’t have any. I think other moms have put out the word: “She’s coming! You know, the one who’s desperate to talk to other adults! Run!”

I’m trying. Evidently some of our neighbors have kids the exact same ages as ours. I called their number, haven’t heard back. These things take time. It’s hard to have that perspective when every day brings a new exercise in “What do I do with the kids today?”

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Sophia has the funniest line that is guaranteed to make Darin and me crack up whenever she says it. Whenever she puts forth an idea for something she wants, she says, with her biggest, sunniest smile: “Can we go to the bookstore now? Yeah? Is that a great idea?”

Not a good idea. A great one.

No idea how she came up with that one.

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For several months there Darin had to read Mike Mulligan and his Steam Shovel to Sophia every night, mostly because he made the mistake of telling her that it had been his favorite book when he was a boy. Darin turned the nightly recitation into an audience participation event, with Sophia finishing half the sentences.

We finally (yes! finally!) opened one of the boxes of the kids’ books and one of the books was Mike Mulligan. Sophia asked me to read it to her last night.

She didn’t remember any of it. Mike. Mary Anne. “Neat and square.”

Which might mean she’s already forgotten a lot about Los Angeles. Not everything: she still brings up her friends from time to time.

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I didn’t mention that one of the biggest stresses we’ve been under is that—ta da!—the buyer for our house in Los Angeles backed out a week before we were supposed to close escrow. And she didn’t even tell us, we found out when the escrow agent called to tell us. And because we’d set up the purchase between friends, we didn’t even get to keep the down payment.

Which would have really, really helped, given that we’ve had two mortgages going for a few months now and had to pay for some stuff to be fixed at the old house. (Like termites. Yes, my house got tented and I didn’t even get to see it.)

Reportedly everything is fixed now—we have the most amazing real estate agent in the world who is handling everything for us; if you are buying or selling a house in LA call Jeanne Valvo at Coldwell Banker, you will not be sorry—and the house should go on the market soon. Jeanne may already have a buyer for us. I just want to see the check.

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I’ve promised all my friends that I will stop complaining to them all the time. I don’t know when, though. I’m just a little stressed out right now.

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Filed Under: All About Moi

Housing prices, French-style

Posted on July 18, 2003 Written by Diane

In the book A Year In Provence, Peter Mayle describes buying a home in France. Evidently everyone lies about the actual prices of homes in France, because of the taxes, so that when the house sale is actually transacted, the government official conveniently leaves the room and the buyer gives the seller the real amount of money.

Having just bought a home here in the great state of California, I find myself wondering if the same sort of thing doesn’t go on here. I haven’t heard that it does; I just find myself wondering.

Property taxes in California are calculated based on the sales price—initial property taxes are 1% of the sales price, and the taxes can only rise 2% every year thereafter. (Yes, Proposition 13, and no, we won’t get into how it’s a complete windfall for corporations and everyone else gets screwed.) So if you buy a house for $100,000, your initial taxes will be $1,000 a year. (You will also be very popular, because I am willing to bet there isn’t a house in the entire state for under $300,000.)

But if I say my initial purchase price was $50,000, and I pay you $50,000 under the table, then my property taxes are only $500 to start with.

When you start adding lots of zeroes to all of these prices, you can see why people might want to do this.

Other than the fact that it’s illegal—and in today’s climate, ripping the entire state of California off for billions of dollars doesn’t even rate probation, let alone jail time—why aren’t people doing this with home sales? Or are they and I totally missed out?

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Filed Under: Questions

Greece! Rome! Monsters!

Posted on July 17, 2003 Written by Diane

Ever since Sophia’s birthday, we’ve had a little problem with her: she wants Princess everything. Most especially books. (Well, and music in the car. I bought her the Disney Princess CDs and I rue the day I did, because all I friggin’ get to listen to now is Judy Kuhn wail about the “Colors of the Wind.” You never know what you’ve lost until you can’t listen to NPR any more.) Whenever we offered to read her a book, she wanted a Princess book, and finally Darin put down his foot: when we’re at the bookstore reading books, no Princess books. He even hates reading them to her at bedtime.

So while we were at Kepler’s the other day we noticed a new book that was co-created by the author of one of our favorite children’s books. Calef Brown did Polkabats and Octopus Slacks, which is hysterical: if you have kids, or you like poetry, or both, run out and buy this book. (Its companion, Dutch Sneakers and Flea Keepers, is good but not superlative; we read Polkabats a whole bunch and Sneakers only a few times.)

The book we found at Kepler’s was Greece! Rome! Monsters! written by John Harris and illustrated by Calef Brown in his offbeat, folk art style. Darin and I have always loved the Greek myths, and we thought Sophia might enjoy this book. Then we opened it up and read a bit and thought, Hmm, descriptions of flesh falling off bones and monsters with three rows of sharp teeth and cutting off the Medusa’s head. Perhaps this is too scary for a three-and-a-half year old.

Wrong again, mater.

Sophia loves this book. She isn’t scared by it at all; she wants to hear it over and over again. If she could get both Darin and me to read it to her before bed, she would. She likes to point out the various monsters in the opening spread and she can name them all. Manticores and basilisks and Cerberus oh my! My little girl isn’t fazed by the tale of the Minotaur in the least.

I found D’Aulaires’ Book of Greek Myths when I was eight and on vacation in Bermuda. Yes, even at eight you couldn’t get me out of a bookshop. And I was looking forward to the day when I would get my kids and copy and sit down with them and discuss the Greek myths with them.

What can I say? That day may be now.

And she hasn’t asked for a Princess book lately, thank goodness.

If you have a tot who needs something a little offbeat, check Greece! Rome! Monsters! out. Or Polkabats and Octopus Slacks. They’re both excellent.

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Filed Under: Books and Magazines

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