The Art of Buying, Selling And Touring
All I want for Christmas is a mortgage and a nice tenant.
I felt pressure about my column coming out on Christmas Day. I mean, Jesus Christ (no pun intended), what could I possibly say that would represent a glorious holiday embodied by the singing Whos of Whoville and Cameron Diaz shedding her first tear in The Holiday (I am a media baby). So I decided to take the heat off my writing and do what I do best… write about what is going on. Because in Australia it’s already Monday.
I thought buying my first house on my own was hard. But buying a second place and renting the first one is an art of complexity that I have minimized to the point where I am so calm, I’m suspicious of myself. Under my civility is a woman going ‘You’re doing what?” but I keep buttering the toast and pouring the coffee like it’s any other day. This is how we create our new norm, right? RIGHT??? Mind you, when I posted the house on Zillow and started to reply that I would do tours, I had no idea what I was doing. As I uploaded each picture (stolen from the original pictures of the house on the MLS from the sale 3 years ago), under my breath I kept saying “Okay, okay. You got this.” Then the inquiries starting coming, and I would watch myself reply in an out of body experience. I am having an open house at 2 on Sunday. I AM? So I bought some flowers, made my kids clean their rooms and staged the place, learning this probably from two decades on movie sets (thank God that career is finally paying off).
What I have become acutely aware of is the overload of energetic exchange in offering tours for me as an empath. I have been told by healers that I am an energetic sponge so I need to protect myself more. It’s kind of hard to remember to put a cone of blue light around yourself when you are contemplating “Shoes on or shoes off” for the tour. This first open house was attended by three couples. My daughters helped (well my 17 year old showed how one lies on a couch with a phone in case the viewers didn’t know) but my 13 year old scampered all over, excited always by what mom is up to next in the rollercoaster of life and a master listener and reporter of all heard. That energy was fine as it was less intimate in the scope of an hour. But this week, I held four private tours and was witness to the wishes and dreams of adults. It’s not just kids who have wishes at Christmas.
I met a dad with two boys who wants to use my back shed for his tools as he makes furniture in his time off as a security guard. I met a mom, so pregnant, she sat at my kitchen table like it was her first rest in weeks, while dad did the tour with the one and three year old. All she wants is the kids in their own rooms and out of her bed already (or to be not asked to get up from my kitchen table). A young woman shared she has a Rottweiler she rescued in Covid who is now huge and no one will rent to her without asking for a $1k dog deposit. She doesn’t want to have to give him away. I met a woman from Jamaica who wants to make each room a healing center and paced outside looking for a divine answer. I see them scan my place, making mental measurements, asking a few questions, and I hear what I share about. Why I am moving, my love for my neighbors. We talk about commutes, and I show them the trees in the front that produce abundant fruit and I feel a great pride in my home. I get teary. I am going to say goodbye for at least four years to a home that held me and my daughters safe while Covid raged the world. Gave us the space we needed to do healing and growing. While I feel the pressure to find a tenant so I can move along a purchase where I next will dwell, the spirits inside me whisper, wait, the right family will come. You will know.
What I want for Christmas is not the perfect answer to a capitalist dream. It is my wonderful sweet house to be the home to the people who need it the most. Who can thrive, grow, laugh and feel like I felt when I moved in… like they got the greatest gift of all (and… cue Whitney Houston because it sort of fits and I really love a good background soundtrack).
If You Are Looking to do some writing:
Dialogue is the jewel of any form of writing. Okay, maybe not the poem although I do love me a good poet who drops a few lines of conversation into their prose even if it is talking to a sparrow in the willow. Screenplays, memoirs, how-to, all benefit from breaking off from the monotony of paragraph chunks to remind you we are people here - the writer and the reader. So to practice writing dialogue listen to it and engage in it. Become a student in what people do and don’t say. Just look around you. People are freaked the f out at the end of 2022. It’s been a challenging year. What that means to me as a writer is more opportunity for satirical writing from observation of people. While the holiday rush is over, next week people are going to continue to be processing what happened in 2022 and projecting a sense of (false) bravado about 2023. Engage in the grocery store line, chat up someone at the coffee shop, or how about getting in line at the post office. If nothing makes you have murderous thoughts more for the human race that you can write about, that place will do it. Going postal has all new meaning at holiday season.
What I wish someone would create:
While I am talking about the post office already, I might as well dive in. Come on, you have post office angst you need to let out too, even if you only went once this season. The post office had it going on for a while there with their self serve stations. You go in, weigh the package and buy your stamp and off you go. No lines. But suddenly you can’t find one to save your life, and its back to waiting in line endlessly again because there is one worker for twenty people. So how about some ambitious politician create a Proposition that allocates some funding from the billions in the government coffers to hiring more postal workers (after paying teachers more, of course) so we can mail a damn letter in peace.
Technology Tip:
My brilliant client Cynthia Hester who works at Google introduced me to Building Blocks which enables someone who works for you to write emails in a template form and share them before sending the wrong email to the wrong person. As I am notorious for delegating quickly and swiftly thinking the other person is mind melding with the thoughts between the lines, occasionally an email will go out congratulating four people on their puppies when that was only for one specific person. We all have it happen when we send a batch of emails pitching a product or making an announcement, but this really eliminates the errors so you don’t have to get a miffed email back from someone who took the time to tell you “ I DON’T have puppies.” Ouch.
Shameless Plug:
I am always looking for interesting, stimulating cost-effective ways to network with other on the go women. Jenna Banks has created a community of powerful women and I am all in. At only $79 a year, you can be in mentor groups, speak and connect. Click here to check it out, and also, read about founder Jenna… her story of triumph is incredible. I am joining for 2023 and I hope to see you in all your power and glory.
Also, my book is in pre-order. “A group hug won’t fix the long-term effects of denial, but seeing how it has affected every nook and cranny of your life will gradually help you realize that waiting to heal is no longer an option.”
If no one told you today they love you, I love you, xo