An Engaging Predicament

The land has been conquered! Well, more bargained for. After a half a week of negotiating the sellers have decided to accept our final bid. We close in mid December and will have secured our little nest egg almost a year before schedule (my schedule, not Missy's). We'll have the rest of the time to figure out the minute details of the wedding, plan a financially responsible honeymoon, fix the house up and make it ours and determine what the hell we're going to do with all that space.

The house is almost 1600 square feet not including the attic which would bring that total up almost 1000 square feet. This is almost surreal. With all we've saved up, this radical venture we're undertaking won't be as hard on us as we first assumed. The major problem that will keep me up at nights is security. But we're in the process of improving our lives. Nevertheless, I will keep knocking on wood like an obsessive compulsive.

I've often referred to the suburbs as the purgatory of this world, a social limbo where life isn't too fast or too slow, too exciting or too dull, its just bland rice patties with tofu. For a long time I never thought I would be the one to willingly choose the 'burbs instead of an apartment in the city. Well, I didn't think I'd ever get married either. See how plans change.

Anyway, we are bidding on a house in Lombard. Its a modest bungalow, in need of some minor repairs, but a good deal if the seller could come down twenty grand. This is the closest Missy and I've ever come to actually staking a claim on some land (that chunk of air space in Oak Park doesn't count).

Now that we're so close I'm starting to see all those doors open to possibilities closing. Its kind of sad. I'll never live a couple blocks from a chic coffee shop where I would frequent for my morning java fix and nightly artistic craving. I won't buy a boat and live out on Lake Michigan maintaining nautical interests. I most likely won't be able to find the time to focus my efforts on writing a book or publishing my editorial cartoons or any other artistic endeavor I hoped to accomplish.

I'm not complaining, its just that for so long I asked myself, "is this what I should be doing?" And now I'll have no choice in the matter. When I was in high school I often thought that the people in socialist countries were lucky because they always had someone telling them what to do. Now I realize that having a set path to follow can make one feel claustrophobic. Nothing too major, just enough to make you appreciate those times when there were alternatives.

Despite my nostalgia for the past, I think that owning a home will be a great step forward for me. An adult life is a growing process, and I've been hibernating for too long. I think it is time for me to take on the responsibility of a house. Also I think Missy and I will do wonders to this house. She is very crafty and a hard worker.

All in all, I can never know for certain what doors are closing in my life. Only time will tell and even then it is most likely due to a lack of effort why a possibility is no longer feasible. So even more reason to use more of this energy I have pent up, only this time in a place I can call my own.

I know what you're thinking, that's an oxymoron, but no, Missy and I have stumbled upon one. We've waded through caterers that charge cake cutting fees, corkage fees, and that charge for the servers to be present but an additional cost for them to do any actual work. Today, though, we visited a caterer that actually gave us a price quote before we left and said it was a liberal estimate. This quote was more than within our budget and still had all the frills that caterers charging twice the amount included. Most of the other caterers would hem and haw about providing a figure to work around, no doubt hoping to squeeze us for every cent we had and could possibly borrow.

During our visit today, I had a hard time containing my joy. With great effort I was able to maintain my poker face, and actually forced a scowl when she gave us the wonderful price per guest. She reassured me that the price would go down when we had more specifics and I made my best effort to look skeptical.

When we left the wedding planner said that she would have the proposal in the mail in less than a week. The other caterers we visited have yet to send us their proposal, and will most likely refrain from doing so until a month before the wedding date, no doubt following a secret caterer code that prohibits caterers from allowing couples to breathe easy, ensuring the greatest advantage for the caterers to glean whatever amount of money they wish from the couple's with no choice but to agree to financial rape - a sort of marital right of passage on par with a bris.

The moment Missy and I were through the doors we looked at each other and simultaneously agreed that we've found our caterer. Even though we have other appointments with other caterers, and plan to keep those appointments, we have no doubt that the price won't be beaten.

I feel so relieved. The caterer the absurd post-wedding stress inhibiting, pre-wedding stress facilitator, has been decided upon and all we have to look forward to is surprise hidden costs that hopefully won't arise. I'm crossing my fingers.