Ann, my mortgage broker, just called and I’ve not only had my home loan approved (well, pre-approved; I don’t have the money, I just know it’s there if I need it) but I’ve got excellent credit to boot. She’s sending all of that info to me in the mail, and she’s told me that she put a smiley face next to my credit rating to indicate how awesome it is.

Looks like it’s time to focus on finding that house. We’ve got a couple of walkthroughs on Saturday scheduled, and hopefully by then we’ll have something new to look at, too.

We have an extra special Traffic Asshole this week. Even more special because it wasn’t even me involved. (Which means you’ll have to forgive details, since I’m sort of filling in the blanks. Also, this is by no means any legal account of what happened, it’s just what I heard, so if you’re with the insurance company, this ain’t for you.)

Jenn was on her way home yesterday from work and was going to stop at the store to return some bottles. Six blocks from the store, she’s stopped at a light. Behind her, a bus. About a half car length in front of her, a lady in a Buick.

Sitting at a light. Getting ready to go.

Out of nowhere, the Buick lady throws it into reverse and steps on the gas. Jenn, stunned, starts honking madly.

Still honking, Jenn gets… uh… front-ended(?). The lady gets out of the car and asks probably the two stupidest questions I’ve ever heard a human ask. Again, I wasn’t there, and Jenn answered probably a little more diplomatically than I would, but let’s re-enact the conversation, substituting me in for Jenn.

Stupid Lady: I didn’t see you! Where were you? Me: Behind you, you fucking tard! Where else would I be if you were backing up and hit me? In front of you? Stupid Lady: How come you didn’t honk? Me: How come you were fucking backing up? We’re on a major road in rush hour, here! Where the hell did you think you were going? And why didn’t I honk? Are you deaf? My arm’s still sticking through the window of my car with the horn on full right now. Maybe I should get the cops to come check this out, not only for my insurance, but so they can shoot you.

The killer thing is, it hasn’t ended here. Jenn got the lady’s name, license plate number, and insurance info and came home. Jenn called the lady’s insurance company, and there’s no policy for the lady. Jenn got bogus insurance information! What is the world coming to? My insurance is sky high and she’s driving around handing out bad info?

Bah.

Let’s go to tape:

Here’s a bit of a side view. You can see the worst of it - the license plate and frame are now embedded in the bumper and there’s quite a gouge out of the bumper just to the side of the plate.

Here’s a better look at that gouge.

And a top view of the plate so you can see how messed up it is. Jenn hasn’t even had her first oil change in that car - the plate used to be brand new.

Jenn has since left a message with the lady (we actually did get her real phone number) and is asking for revised insurance info. Otherwise, Jenn’s going to have to file an uninsured motorist claim… and that’s no good at all.

I checked my email this morning to find that MortgageDesignGroup.com had finally sent me the estimates they promised me, last night around 5:15p. So, only about a day-and-a-half late.

Somehow, when someone’s dealing with my money, I’m huge on punctuality. Don’t tell me one thing and then do something else. That may seem petty in a case like this, but I feel like sometimes these little things are indicators of something larger.

After I looked over their estimates (closing costs were way higher than everyone else, so you’re definitely paying for their service), I called Ann over at NW Mortgage Group to tell her she’s the one. She was pretty excited, and I’m glad because I feel like that’s enthusiasm she shares with me in the whole process. Plus, she’s always easy to get ahold of and is very punctual about things. Maybe if I had gone through this process before I would consider doing something based solely on the money, but the first time I run through it I definitely want the service and I think that’s what Ann’s providing.

I gave her all of my vital stats and she’s running my credit and coming up with a new, more accurate estimate to walk me through. She’s also sending me a packet of stuff to look over which basically signifies the beginning of the paper trail that will end in my home loan.

One interesting thing she pointed out, which I think is a smart deal and I’m not sure if all new homebuyers do this: When someone asks you for a loan pre-approval letter, many times that letter shows the total amount the buyer is approved for. If you’re the buyer, that’s tipping your hand to the seller, who is trying to get the price to go up. What I’ll end up doing is calling Ann to get a letter tailored to my offer, so the approval will only show the amount of money I’m willing to pay for the house. Sounds good to me.

Jenn and I didn’t do a whole lot this weekend, but we did go to a Superbowl party at a friend’s place.

Interesting way I met these friends, actually: I was in a geology class at PSU and was talking to a classmate, telling her that I was going to get a job at Lattice Semiconductor. She said her husband happened to work there (small world, right)? So I ended up going to school with her and working with her husband.

Anyway, they’re cool people and always have a great Superbowl party (lots of people and food) but I haven’t gone in the past couple of years, so it was good to go this year. Not only did I catch up with them (and see their kids finally) but I also got to see a lot of friends I used to work with who I have lost touch with. It was really great to see all of them, and hopefully I won’t be so long in seeing them again.

This week I’m bringing you an extra-special Traffic Asshole.

I went to visit one of my potential mortgage brokers on Friday afternoon and, seeing as how it was 2:00p, figured I’d head home and work from there. You know - beat the traffic, so to speak.

Imagine my surprise to get into this:

What the hell is going on here?

I continued into this quagmire, merging with some other traffic, equally backed up:

And when I finally got to the head of this thing, what was it? A wreck? A death?

No, something much more insidious still:

A metered on-ramp.

What a load of shit, man. Whoever figured out this metered on-ramp thing should be fucking shot. What else could cause such traffic devastation in the afternoon?

I sure as hell won’t miss that once I’ve moved closer to work.