When the Going Gets Tough I Get Weird
This week has been taken up yet again with the roiling cluster fuck of our house purchase. The bank here in Costa Rica has refused for almost three weeks now to release our funds to us. I'm scampered around like a crazed chipmunk hording for winter, but the only things I'm hording is a flood of paperwork proving that the money is honestly ours from honest endeavors.
It's enough of a sum that's it has created massive stress levels in both of us. It's enough to buy enough CDs to support ourselves on the 8% return rate here in Costa Rica combined with enough to buy the house, the property and the guesthouse, buy some furniture, a washer and dryer and install a swimming pool.
Yeah, 8% return, a crazy high return when you cannot even get 1% in America at that bank. The government bank here is backed and insured so the money is safe, well as safe as money can be overseas. Here's the scary bit about about of this and why is was more of a hassle for us than most folks.
The scary. If the government thinks at all, or has the slightest evidence you might not be on the up and up, they can seize all of your assets that they can touch. That means every penny we're bringing in to invest in real estate and CDs.
That's how husband-murdering millionairess about to be retried yet again Ann Bender lost her millions. She illegally imported over 7 million bucks in gemstones and neglected to file any import paperwork or pay the impuesto (taxes) so the government seized everything of value in her home right down to the appliances. She's at the very least guilty of tax evasion and smuggling, but I suspect that she'll be convicted again. You cannot claim your husband committed suicide in front of you while the bullet entry wound is in the back of his head, forensics shows that the gun was fired from ten feet away and you are the only one with gun shot residue on your hands and clothing. I feel pretty certain she did it. Forensic tests do not lie.
Bender came up when we started house hunting. The estate lands have been officially divided up and the lots are on the market right now with beautiful views of the waterfall on their lands. I suspect she's trying to raise funds for a defense. The lot prices are lower than I would have thought. While the property is 30 minutes from the beaches and only a short hop over the mountain road to Copey de Dota it gives me the creeps to think about living in the shadow of someone elses dream turned gruesome cautionary tale.
Also complicating the matter is the fact that Jim told the seller's broker and our agent that he was refusing to pay the $850 escrow charge, that we would present a cashier's check to the seller the day of closing. Jim is thrifty, he always has been. But it's sort of gummed up the works a bit. Bringing in that money into an escrow account is apparently much easier than dealing with the banking regulators and the government for the import directly.
There has been praying, crying, screaming and ranting over that money for nearly three weeks now.
Our original closing date was supposed to be tomorrow, but the seller refused to schedule the closing until we showed him proof that the money had been released into our Costa Rican bank account. He hasn't even started to clear his personal possessions out of the house yet!
Finally this morning the money was released by the international banking division and the government and is sitting in our account right now. We fired out a letter from the bank stating that we have a sufficient balance to pay cash at closing. So now the closing is rescheduled until Wednesday and the family will be removing their odds and ends from the house. I will be posting photos as soon as we move in next week.
In the meantime I've had to deal with one very patronizing 'oh you little woman' type realtor. I've already told Jim I've had to restrain myself multiple times from going gangsta hardcore and telling him to shut the fuck up. I will be telling him after the sale how insulting his behavior is and how we're never using him again.
Yesterday he called me about a dozen times, nagging me to try and get me to nag Jim into taking care of the tiny details. I was gritting my teeth hard, I slept poorly and ground my teeth all night, getting up exhausted and super fucking cranky.
When he tried to start that shit up again with me this morning I started cursing up a blue streak and practically punching the walls. Plus I was getting it from other ends, from one of the attorneys involved with the sale. There was last minute legal paperwork to be filed, and in the middle of this my scanner died. Both the realtor and the lawyer refusing to accept faxes, insisting on scanned in copies. I tried downloading and trying out three different scanner apps for my phone and Ipad but nothing worked like it was supposed to so in the late afternoon I had some choice (obscene) words for the realtor related through my dear husband.
I'm standing in the office off the kitchen shouting out to Jim 'You tell that lousy sack of shit motherfucker that if he wants a scanned document he's going to have to fucking do it himself, that COCKSUCKER!!!' and Jim was translating it to him like 'Suzanne is having issues with the scanner and says you will have to take the documents back to your office and scan them in...'
Yeah, it was that kind of a few days, with me going nuclear obscene pissed off crazy woman only today. Usually when I get that super irrationally angry it means a very bad asthma attack is coming. I hope that's not it. I'm pushing meds, extra meds right now to nip it if it is.
I was busy crying on the shoulder of my friend who just visited here and tried to give me a come to Jesus around noon today. I confessed to her that I didn't want to use this realtor in the first place because he goes to church with Jim and has a Jesus Fish on his car.
We both started giggling and laughing over the fact that people in the business world that brag how Christian they are, or just have the fish on their cars, are usually the most incompetent and likely to scam you the hardest. They will know we are Christians by the Jesus Fish on our car. She's a Joel Osteen-loving, Evangelical that thinks Donald Trump is the bees knees of a president and that she should be able to carry her cute pink pistol into anywhere unimpeded. But she thinks exactly the same way I do about Christians marketing their business as Christian. But she gloats over the fact that Jesus will judge them for it one day. I'm not that confident that is the scenario that will go down at the end of the world. I'm mostly agnostic now.
As I started writing this I began to hear a wetish drip drip drip and discovered that the air conditioner here in the master bedroom has begun to leak into our closet. So guess what my Friday looks like tomorrow??? Massive amounts of laundry with some light yelling at the landlord. Yes, the ac has leaked all over all the clothes we own. The dryer is still dead so the back lanai will be festooned with an assortment of stuff.
A few more days, I keep telling myself just a few more days.
On a good note the new place got a full home inspection and passed with flying colors. That is unheard of in Costa Rica because usually there's earthquake damage or jerryrigged plumbing or electric. I guess it pays to buy the weekend beach pad of a rich lawyer in San Jose.
It's enough of a sum that's it has created massive stress levels in both of us. It's enough to buy enough CDs to support ourselves on the 8% return rate here in Costa Rica combined with enough to buy the house, the property and the guesthouse, buy some furniture, a washer and dryer and install a swimming pool.
Yeah, 8% return, a crazy high return when you cannot even get 1% in America at that bank. The government bank here is backed and insured so the money is safe, well as safe as money can be overseas. Here's the scary bit about about of this and why is was more of a hassle for us than most folks.
The scary. If the government thinks at all, or has the slightest evidence you might not be on the up and up, they can seize all of your assets that they can touch. That means every penny we're bringing in to invest in real estate and CDs.
That's how husband-murdering millionairess about to be retried yet again Ann Bender lost her millions. She illegally imported over 7 million bucks in gemstones and neglected to file any import paperwork or pay the impuesto (taxes) so the government seized everything of value in her home right down to the appliances. She's at the very least guilty of tax evasion and smuggling, but I suspect that she'll be convicted again. You cannot claim your husband committed suicide in front of you while the bullet entry wound is in the back of his head, forensics shows that the gun was fired from ten feet away and you are the only one with gun shot residue on your hands and clothing. I feel pretty certain she did it. Forensic tests do not lie.
Bender came up when we started house hunting. The estate lands have been officially divided up and the lots are on the market right now with beautiful views of the waterfall on their lands. I suspect she's trying to raise funds for a defense. The lot prices are lower than I would have thought. While the property is 30 minutes from the beaches and only a short hop over the mountain road to Copey de Dota it gives me the creeps to think about living in the shadow of someone elses dream turned gruesome cautionary tale.
Also complicating the matter is the fact that Jim told the seller's broker and our agent that he was refusing to pay the $850 escrow charge, that we would present a cashier's check to the seller the day of closing. Jim is thrifty, he always has been. But it's sort of gummed up the works a bit. Bringing in that money into an escrow account is apparently much easier than dealing with the banking regulators and the government for the import directly.
There has been praying, crying, screaming and ranting over that money for nearly three weeks now.
Our original closing date was supposed to be tomorrow, but the seller refused to schedule the closing until we showed him proof that the money had been released into our Costa Rican bank account. He hasn't even started to clear his personal possessions out of the house yet!
Finally this morning the money was released by the international banking division and the government and is sitting in our account right now. We fired out a letter from the bank stating that we have a sufficient balance to pay cash at closing. So now the closing is rescheduled until Wednesday and the family will be removing their odds and ends from the house. I will be posting photos as soon as we move in next week.
In the meantime I've had to deal with one very patronizing 'oh you little woman' type realtor. I've already told Jim I've had to restrain myself multiple times from going gangsta hardcore and telling him to shut the fuck up. I will be telling him after the sale how insulting his behavior is and how we're never using him again.
Yesterday he called me about a dozen times, nagging me to try and get me to nag Jim into taking care of the tiny details. I was gritting my teeth hard, I slept poorly and ground my teeth all night, getting up exhausted and super fucking cranky.
When he tried to start that shit up again with me this morning I started cursing up a blue streak and practically punching the walls. Plus I was getting it from other ends, from one of the attorneys involved with the sale. There was last minute legal paperwork to be filed, and in the middle of this my scanner died. Both the realtor and the lawyer refusing to accept faxes, insisting on scanned in copies. I tried downloading and trying out three different scanner apps for my phone and Ipad but nothing worked like it was supposed to so in the late afternoon I had some choice (obscene) words for the realtor related through my dear husband.
I'm standing in the office off the kitchen shouting out to Jim 'You tell that lousy sack of shit motherfucker that if he wants a scanned document he's going to have to fucking do it himself, that COCKSUCKER!!!' and Jim was translating it to him like 'Suzanne is having issues with the scanner and says you will have to take the documents back to your office and scan them in...'
Yeah, it was that kind of a few days, with me going nuclear obscene pissed off crazy woman only today. Usually when I get that super irrationally angry it means a very bad asthma attack is coming. I hope that's not it. I'm pushing meds, extra meds right now to nip it if it is.
I was busy crying on the shoulder of my friend who just visited here and tried to give me a come to Jesus around noon today. I confessed to her that I didn't want to use this realtor in the first place because he goes to church with Jim and has a Jesus Fish on his car.
We both started giggling and laughing over the fact that people in the business world that brag how Christian they are, or just have the fish on their cars, are usually the most incompetent and likely to scam you the hardest. They will know we are Christians by the Jesus Fish on our car. She's a Joel Osteen-loving, Evangelical that thinks Donald Trump is the bees knees of a president and that she should be able to carry her cute pink pistol into anywhere unimpeded. But she thinks exactly the same way I do about Christians marketing their business as Christian. But she gloats over the fact that Jesus will judge them for it one day. I'm not that confident that is the scenario that will go down at the end of the world. I'm mostly agnostic now.
As I started writing this I began to hear a wetish drip drip drip and discovered that the air conditioner here in the master bedroom has begun to leak into our closet. So guess what my Friday looks like tomorrow??? Massive amounts of laundry with some light yelling at the landlord. Yes, the ac has leaked all over all the clothes we own. The dryer is still dead so the back lanai will be festooned with an assortment of stuff.
A few more days, I keep telling myself just a few more days.
On a good note the new place got a full home inspection and passed with flying colors. That is unheard of in Costa Rica because usually there's earthquake damage or jerryrigged plumbing or electric. I guess it pays to buy the weekend beach pad of a rich lawyer in San Jose.
Comments